The Loner: Inferno

Chapter 31

Before The Kid could respond to that, Jess elbowed her way through the ring of troopers and forced herself between Nicholson and The Kid. “Are you insane? You can’t arrest him! He saved us! He went into Mexico and rescued us from those ... those monsters!”

“Exactly, ma ’ am , ” Nicholson said. “Mr. Morgan crossed the border without proper authorization—”

The cavalrymen began to step back and come to attention as another officer strode up. He was a short, wiry man with a salt-and-pepper beard.

“Lieutenant,” the newcomer said sharply, “we’ve talked about this!”

Nicholson holstered his pistol and stood stiffly at attention. “Yes, sir”—his eyes were straight ahead—“but it still seems to me—”

“I don’t care how it seems to you, son,” the other officer said, then turned and extended a hand to The Kid. “Let me help you up, Morgan.”

The Kid clasped the man’s hand and got to his feet. With a nod, he said, “I’m obliged to you, sir.”

“Colonel Stilwell,” the officer introduced himself. “I rode in with a patrol of my own a couple of days ago and found the lieutenant waiting here in case you came back from your little jaunt south of the border. When he told me who you were and that you were trying to save some kidnapped American women, I figured if anybody could bring them back, it’d be you. So I decided to wait a little while, just in case.” Stilwell chuckled. “I didn’t expect you to bring a bunch of Rurales back with you, too.”

“There’s going to be trouble over this, sir,” Nicholson warned. “We engaged Mexican troops without authorization—”

“By my order, Lieutenant,” Stilwell snapped. “My authorization. I’ll take the responsibility, and by God, after forty years of fighting Indians and outlaws out here on this frontier, if anybody tells me I’m not allowed to defend American soil from a foreign invasion, I’ll retire, blast it!”

“The Rurales didn’t actually cross the border—”

“That one did.” He pointed at Guzman’s body. “And the others fired over the border and endangered American citizens.”

Edwin Sago stepped up. “I’ll testify to that, Colonel, if I need to.”

Nicholson sighed and shook his head. “Very well, sir. But it’s all highly irregular.”

“When you’ve been out here for a while, son, you may see things differently. Irregular is the order of the day on the frontier.” Stilwell took a cheroot out of his jacket pocket and put it in his mouth unlit as he turned to The Kid. “Now, Morgan, I’ll bet you could use a drink and something to eat.”

“Yes, sir, I could,” The Kid agreed. Jess was beside him, smiling. He slipped an arm around her, partly out of affection and partly because he was so tired it felt good to have someone to lean on.

Sago said, “We’ll all pitch in and clean up that mess on the other side of town, Colonel.”

The Kid looked in that direction. Some of the Rurales had fled, but a number of them were dead.

Suddenly, at the far end of town, a rider moved into the light that spilled through an open window. The Kid tensed as he recognized Mateo. He hadn’t seen the Yaqui during the fighting. Mateo appeared to be unharmed, and he had a rifle in his hand. For a second The Kid thought he might lift the gun and take a last shot.

Mateo raised the Winchester. Holding it above his head for a second, he wheeled his horse and vanished into the gathering darkness.

Had that been a salute? The Kid thought it was. Mateo was done with this fight.

But if their trails ever crossed again, The Kid mused, he suspected he would have himself one more deadly enemy.

“Come on,” Jess said softly. “The others want to see you and thank you.”

The Kid nodded and let her lead him away.

Other than a bit of lameness that disappeared with rest, the dun hadn’t been injured in the fall. The Kid was grateful for that. He and the horse made a good team.

Two weeks later, he and Jess sat in the luxurious lobby of the Camino Real Hotel in El Paso. A couple of years earlier, Conrad Browning had met with Frank Morgan at that hotel, to ask for Frank’s help, and that was the beginning of the growing friendship and respect between father and son. The Kid hadn’t been back since.

The saber cut on his hand was healing. Luckily, he hadn’t needed to use his gun during the past two weeks.

The skirmish at Sago had been brushed under the rug, as far as The Kid knew. Maybe there had been a few angry letters exchanged between Washington and Mexico City. Maybe not. None of that mattered to him.

With a smile, Jess said, “I can’t help but wonder how a drifting gunfighter can afford to stay in a fancy place like this, let alone pay for four women to start new lives. It wouldn’t do any good to ask, though, would it?”

The Kid shrugged. “Everybody has secrets.”

“You know just about everything there is to know about me, Kid. The good and the bad.”

“I don’t know anything bad,” he told her with a shake of his head.

“Most people wouldn’t see it that way.”

“Most people are damned fools in one way or another.”

She smiled. “I suppose you’re right about that. Speaking of damned fools ... are you sure I can’t talk you into going to Dallas with me?”

“Leah’s going to be staying with you for a while. The two of you will do fine.”

“I know,” Jess said. “But if you ever change your mind ...”

“I’ll know where to find you,” The Kid promised. He got to his feet, holding a black Stetson in his hand. The Rurales uniform was long gone. He wore a black suit, white shirt, and string tie. And the Colt on his hip, of course. He was never without it.

Jess came into his arms and hugged him, resting her head against his chest for a moment. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’ve said that plenty times already. No need to say it again.”

“Never enough.” She tipped her head back to look at him. “Come see me sometime.”

“Count on it,” The Kid told her, although he didn’t know if that promise would ever be fulfilled.

The dun was waiting outside, and the trail to ... somewhere ... beckoned.

Kid Morgan was ready to answer that call.