“Which means?’
“One of two things.”
“I’m listening, Berto.”
“They are probably going to Trinidad.”
“What’s there?”
“Supplies,” Colon said. “Also, if they go to Trinidad and then head north, they avoid going over the mountains.”
“So they’re takin’ the long way around.”
“Which works for us if we’re right about where they’re heading,” James said.
“But you said two things.”
Colon looked at James. “Perhaps they still stop in Trinidad and then go south.”
“Which means Thomas and Ralph are goin’ the wrong way.”
James thought a moment, then said, “Well, either way, they’re headin’ for Trinidad, right?”
“It would appear so.”
“And how long will it take us to get there?”
“About an hour.”
“Let’s go, then,” James said. “If they’re there when we get there, we can decide what to do.”
“And if not,” Colon said, “if they have already left, we’ll know whether they are riding north or south.”
“Yeah.”
As they headed toward Trinidad, James was acutely aware that his brother was up on a mountain because of his idea. If the bank robbers headed south, Thomas was going to be completely out of this hunt, and it would fall to him to apprehend them and bring them back.
Or kill them.
Suddenly, he wished he had “Ralph Cory” with him rather than Berto Colon.
60
“What mountains are these?” Thomas asked as he passed Cory a hunk of beef jerky. They had no coffee, but had built a fire for the warmth. They were washing down their beef jerky dinner with swallows of water from their canteens.
“The Sangre de Cristo Mountains,” Cory said. “When we get to the other side you’ll see the Spanish Peaks.”
“Spanish Peaks?” Thomas asked. “We have to go over more mountains?”
“No,” Cory said, “we’re gonna go north of the peaks to the old Taos Trail. In fact, we don’t even have to go to the top of these mountains.”
“Why not?”
“We can take the Sangre de Cristo Pass. It’s a branch of the old Sante Fe Trail.”
“So goin’ over may not be as rough as you said.”
“Maybe not,” Cory said. “The passes just have to be open. I haven’t been there in a lot of years.”
Thomas took a bite from his beef jerky and sat back, wondering where James was at that moment and what he was doing. If he and Colon managed to catch up to Cardwell and Jacks, and something happened…well, he’d have a lot of explaining to do to his father about why they split up.
Thomas looked over at Cory and found the man staring up the mountain.
“Ralph?”
“Hm? Oh, I was just thinkin’…I’ve been doin’ a lot of things lately I thought I was done with.”
“You mean like ridin’ over a mountain?”
“Yeah,” Cory said. “I thought I’d be spending the rest of my life behind the counter of some store. I’m too old to be doin’ this.”
“You’re my pa’s age,” Thomas said. “That ain’t too old.”
“No?” Cory asked. “Ask your pa next time you see him how old he feels, especially when he’s in the saddle.”
“You seem to be doin’ okay.”
“My ass is killin’ me, Thomas,” Cory said.
“But you told me you were enjoyin’ it.”
“Some of it, yeah,” Cory said. “Readin’ sign is somethin’ I’ve always gotten satisfaction from doin’. It’s like this writing in the ground that only some people can read, you know?”
Thomas nodded. He didn’t know, so there was no point in commenting.
“And my ass ain’t hurtin’ as much as it was,” Cory went on. “But I’ll know more about myself once we get over this mountain.”
“And then when we get where we’re goin’?” Thomas asked.
Cory looked down at the gun on his hip, and then touched it.
“Yeah,” he said, “that’s when we’ll really see.”
Thomas sat forward and stared at Cory.
“Ralph,” he said, “You gotta tell me now if you’re gonna be able to use your gun when the time comes. I’ve gotta know if you’re gonna be able to cover my back.”
“Thomas,” Cory said, “I’ll cover your back better than anyone you know, but I don’t know what’s gonna happen after that.”
Thomas knew he should be concerned with the man’s well-being, but he was more concerned with catching these men after tracking them for weeks. Maybe there’d be more guilt for him when this was all over, but he’d have to deal with it then. There was a lot to be settled when this hunt was all over, so how could it hurt to have one more?
He sat back against his saddle and said, “Okay, then.”
“Okay,” Cory said. “You want first watch, or should I take it?”
“Who’s gonna come up on us from behind?” Thomas asked. “Or from this mountain?”
“Thomas,” Cory said, “we’ve gotten into the habit of settin’ watches. That’s not a habit you want to break right now.”
“You’re right,” Thomas said. “I’ll take the first watch. I’m not ready to sleep yet.”
“That’s because you’re young,” Cory said. “I’m ready to sleep for days.”
“Good,” Thomas said. “I’ll wake you in four hours.”
61
Cardwell and Jacks entered the lobby of the Columbian Hotel in Trinidad, Colorado. The lobby was busy, but there was no sign of Bart Durant.
“Where is he?”
“Relax,” Cardwell said, hefting his saddlebags up on his shoulder. “He’ll be here. Let’s get a room.”
“Rooms,” Jacks said, tapping his own saddlebags. “I want my own this time.”
“Fine.”
They walked to the front desk, where the clerk gave them a dubious look. They were covered with trail dust from days in the saddle and sleeping on the ground.
“Can I help you?”
“Two rooms,” Cardwell said.
