Chapter 14

After breakfast, the next morning, we all went our separate ways. The Padre, Yolanda, and Sofia were taking her kids to school while Alejandro went out to visit his cousins on the upper plateau. He was a little sad to see the others leaving but brightened up when Anna said he would be starting school in a few days and would go with them in the mornings. Tom and Giuseppe went off to check the dams and the quarry. I told Cristina we were going to be using the study most of the day and asked her to keep us well supplied with coffee.

Anna and I spent the day in the study, quietly talking about the plans for the next five years. I took her through the three categories of power again, as well as the logic I used to develop them. I showed her the overview of the plans for each area I thought needed to be developed, the few specifics I’d come up with so far, and my thinking on which years each one should be focused. She added some really solid suggestions and blew a few of my plans out of the water with unassailable logic, forcing me to go back and reexamine the issues involved. She then helped me come up with new focus areas and identified both broad planning areas and specific activities to explore.

We finished up just before supper time and cleaned up before joining everyone in the dining room. For the first time Izabella joined us with Tom bringing her down at the Aunts’ request. When supper was ready Celia brought her out a special plate, with everything already cut up into bite size pieces. Izabella had a little trouble using a fork due to both her unfamiliarity with it, and using it in her left hand, but she stuck with it instead of using her fingers or a knife.

After supper I scooped Izabella up and took her into the living room sitting her down on a couch with Anna, who of course asked me to play the piano. I played some of my favorite pieces before Izabella said she was feeling sleepy and needed to go to bed. I carried her upstairs putting her on the bed. One of her Aunts gave her a Vicodin and a penicillin pill before she laid down in bed. We told her to sleep well and both gave her a kiss on the forehead.

The next few days flew by with Anna and me disappearing into the study to work on our plans right after breakfast, taking a break for lunch, reviewing what we’d come up with, and trying to poke holes in the overall plan in the early afternoons.

Izabella grew a little stronger each day, and I was heartened to see her sleeping a little less and becoming more involved in supper conversations. Anna and Yolanda started teaching her English supported by Sophia, Angelina, and Carlo. Cristina, Celia, and Carla helped when they could, but they were still learning English, so their help was limited. It rained Friday afternoon and evening, but the storm wasn’t as bad as the last two, so we were fairly certain we’d be able to leave Sunday morning as long as it didn’t rain Saturday.

As we’d hoped, Sunday dawned bright and sunny. Anna and I said our goodbyes after breakfast and rode across the river that was still higher than normal but not unmanageable. Anna was obviously happy to be back in the saddle, and I mentioned to her that she needed to keep spending some time riding every day. She gave me a smiling nod and reminded me that so did I, after the last week holed up in the study.

We rode the morning through, side by side, talking as we rode. I was riding the palomino now, since one of the cousins had decided it wasn’t getting enough exercise. He’d spent a day riding the dun around the backside of the mountains and in through the boulder trail and coming back on the palomino. The boys responsible for watching the horses on the upper plateau had been riding the palomino almost daily, but even as big as the upper plateau was, there just wasn’t enough room to truly give a horse a good long exercise.

We rode into the Mendoza stables just after lunch. We arrived a little later than I’d expected, but we’d been letting the horses set their own pace. We wandered through the back of the stable and out to the table where Mr. Mendoza was ensconced in his chair working on the never-ending task of repairing horse and mule tack. He looked up and when he saw Anna a big grin broke out on his face. He stood up engulfing her in a long hug. When they finally broke the hug, he held her out at arms-length and looked her up and down.

“When did you have time to grow up? It seems like only yesterday you were running through the stables in pig tails,” he said in a soft voice.

Anna laughingly replied, “It was a gradual process. You were just too busy repairing harnesses to notice.”

He turned her around, swatted her rear end, and firmly said, “Go see your grandmother in the restaurant so I can get back to the important work.”

She laughed, grabbed my arm, and we walked back through the stables, picking up our gear on the way out.

I wasn’t long in the restaurant. After the small screams of happiness from Mrs. Mendoza and all the aunts and cousins, followed by the hugs; I quickly determined it was going to be a gab fest, and beat a hasty retreat to the stables. We spent the afternoon in companionable silence broken only by the occasional question or comment.

The two of us joined Mr. Garcia in the restaurant as supper time neared. A few moments later, Anna came in with coffee and sat down to talk and wait with us for supper to be served. Mr. Garcia asked Anna how things were going at the Estancia and she told him there was never a dull moment between all the things I had in motion, the cousins coming and going, and the planning we were still doing for the future. He sat thoughtfully for a while and asked what she thought he would do if he came to visit.

Anna gave him a smile and said, “There’s plenty of things to get involved with. There’re always people coming in and out of the Hacienda to talk to. The older boys from the cousins’ families are watching the horses on the upper plateau just outside the house. All the kids between the ages of six and fourteen are in school and learning the languages of the Apache, Spanish, and English, as well as the customs and traditions of all three. All the men have to go through Apache training and we’re getting ready to start a new advanced course for long-distance scouts. All of these things could use your experience in teaching, not to mention we have a group of old ones developing a youth program aimed at boys and girls from the ages of eight to fifteen. The goal of that group is to expose the kids to all the facets of Estancia Operations. We want to broaden their outlook on the types of jobs available to them, both on the Estancia and off, and give them leadership experience in the process. Of course, if you just want to sit on the terrace and watch the river and the desert you can do that, too.”

He grunted at that comment and lapsed into a quiet thoughtful mood, drinking his coffee, and listening to the three of us talk as she told Mr. Mendoza of the adventures we’d had on our trip to Santa Fe and back.

During supper, someone asked Anna what she had planned next, and she took the opportunity to talk about how we would probably make another trip to Santa Fe and Taos in the coming year, staying gone almost as long, but taking the scenic route instead of going straight up the Camino Real.

I grinned when someone asked what she meant by the scenic route. Anna explained that as US Marshal my territory extended west all the way to the Colorado River. She wanted to see the country I’d talked about visiting when I was younger as well as getting a better understanding of the land I would be traveling over if I had to chase fugitives.

She told them the route we were looking at would require us to travel from the Estancia to Colorado City on the lower Colorado River, then up the river and back across the territory to Santa Fe. There were a lot of concerned looks at her when she was done talking. Anna laughed telling them that not only had she discovered that traveling was fun, but that she was good at it.

When everyone looked at me, I just nodded and told them she was right. I wasn’t going to argue with her, although I did remind her from time to time that long-distance travel meant no hot baths or soft beds and we had to eat our own cooking.

Looking me straight in the eye, she said she’d put up with all that, as long as I stayed away from the coffee pot. That brought laughter from everyone.

At breakfast the next morning I told Anna I was going to try and see George at Fort Fillmore, if there was enough time between the interviews and our meeting with Juan and Jorge. I asked her if she wanted to go with me. She said she’d enjoy seeing George again, and would be ready whenever I was.

When we finished with breakfast Anna cleared off our plates and brought me some coffee before heading back to the kitchen. I was waiting for the first of the two men to show up when a short, thin, dirty man in his early 20s came into the restaurant. I watched with interest as he looked around, saw me, and walked toward me.

His looks combined with his very demeanor reminded me of a shifty weasel, and I took an instant dislike to him before he even opened his mouth. I was sitting in my usual chair near the wall with my right side to the door. He walked up and stopped, standing on my right side taking in the badge on my coat and the gun on my thigh hanging from under my coat. With a smile on his face he asked me if I was the new US Marshal.

I told him I was and asked how I could help him. He told me he was here to interview for the Deputy job. I put my left hand on my belt buckle near the butt of the pistol just in case before asking him who he was and who referred him to me about the job.

“You can call me Miguel, and no one referred me. I heard through the grapevine that you were hiring,” he replied with a smarmy smile.

In a curt voice I said, “I’m only interviewing prospective applicants who have been referred by people I trust. Since you weren’t referred, you won’t be considered for the job.”

He got a nasty sneer on his face as he said, “I’m fast with a gun and I’m not afraid of anyone.”

I nodded. “Those are both qualities valued in a lawman but a knowledge of the law and a reputation for being trustworthy and honest are more highly valued.”

“You’ll soon change your mind. Look me up in Mesilla when you finally come to your senses,” he said over his shoulder as he stalked angrily out the door.

I watched out the window as he mounted a flea-bitten nag and rode down Main Street towards Mesilla. When he was out of sight, I shook my head and returned to my table, wondering how he’d heard about this morning’s interviews.

Mr. Mendoza came into the restaurant a few minutes later, leading a man of medium height who looked to be in his early to mid 30s. The clothes he was wearing were worn but clean, and he moved with the rolling gate of a man more used to being on horseback than on his feet.

I stood up as they approached and was introduced to Esteban Gonzalez. With the introductions over Mr. Mendoza turned to leave but I stopped him and asked him to stay. He looked puzzled but sat down in the chair next to Esteban and accepted a cup of coffee from Maria when she came over bringing fresh cups for all of us.

Taking a drink of coffee, I swallowed and asked Esteban to tell me about himself. When he started to respond in Spanish, I asked him if he spoke English. He gave a little grin before telling me he understood it much better than he could speak it, but yes, he did speak English. I shrugged and told him to go ahead and tell me his story.

“I grew up on a small ranch south of El Paso and have always been more comfortable on horseback than anywhere else. I’ve spent most of my adult life working with horses on or near ranches usually making my living breaking horses and supplying meat to the butchers and restaurants in Las Cruces and Mesilla. I was married for a few years, but my wife died in childbirth, and our son died shortly thereafter. I haven’t found another woman yet, but I haven’t lost hope.”

I questioned him a little more and discovered that as I’d suspected, he knew next to nothing about the laws of the United States, but he could read and write Spanish. He could read English but his writing skills in that language were limited.

When I asked him about the weapons he owned, he said that he had two muzzle loading rifles that he was an expert shot with, but that was all he had. We talked about the difference between tracking men and tracking animals for a few minutes before I asked him what he knew about me.

He shrugged, “About all I know is that you are a friend of Mr. Mendoza’s and need a Deputy to live and work in Mesilla, while hunting down fugitives from the law.”

I looked at Mr. Mendoza and asked, “Do you think Esteban has the temperament and patience we talked about?”

He quickly nodded saying that he did.

I stared at Esteban for a few moments. “You need to know a little more about me.”

Over the next several minutes, I gave him a very condensed version of my history ending with my being married to Mr. Mendoza’s granddaughter, and owning the Estancia Dos Santos which was north of town. We talked about the pay, the building I’d bought where he would be living and working when he was in Mesilla, and what he could expect if he took the job.

I asked him if he still wanted the job, and he simply gave me a single nod. I sat back and thought for a minute before asking him when he could start work. He told me he was available anytime I wanted him to start, so I told him he would start today.

That surprised him, but he said that was fine by him. I told him to get his horse and tie it up in front of the restaurant, as we’d be going to Mesilla to look at the building after the next interview.

I thanked Mr. Mendoza for bringing Esteban to me, and for his time as well. He waved it off, clapped Esteban on the back in congratulations, and they both left the restaurant.

Maria came by to check on me a few minutes later, and I told her I was expecting Juan and another man soon and asked her to bring us all coffee when they arrived. She smiled saying ‘of course’ before taking the empty cups away.

Juan came into the restaurant five minutes later, leading a young man two or three years older than me, who also walked like a man more used to horseback than walking. He looked like an Anglo, was slightly taller than average with sandy brown hair, and an infectious smile.

Juan introduced him as Eduardo Montoya who quickly said to just call him Ed in clear unaccented English. I smiled at him and asked him in Spanish, if he also spoke Spanish. He replied that he was as comfortable in Spanish as he was in English.

Juan started to leave and again, I stopped him and asked him to sit down with us. Maria already had coffee on the table, and I thanked her before turning to Ed and asking him to tell me about himself.

His story was a little different than Esteban’s. His mother had been an English woman hired by a rancher in southern Texas as a governess for his two small children. His father had been a vaquero working on the same ranch. They’d fallen in love, married, and he came along shortly thereafter. They lived and worked on the ranch until a few years ago. He came back from a supply trip into town and found the ranch destroyed and everyone dead from a Comanche raid. With nothing left of the ranch he drifted west, working on various ranches and even working for Juan for a little while hauling adobe and lime around Las Cruces. He was single with no romantic interest at the moment and was looking for a job that could be done from the back of a horse, rather than the seat of a wagon. He could read and write equally well in Spanish or English.

I went through the same process as I had with Esteban asking Ed what he knew about me and giving him the same condensed version of my life. I turned to Juan and asked him if he thought Ed had the temperament and patience we’d talked about and he firmly said that he did. I turned back to Ed and asked him if he still wanted the job. He gave me that infectious grin, telling me he did. I asked him when he could start work and he told me the sooner the better. I told him to get his horse and tie it up out front of the restaurant since he was starting now.

Juan smiled and congratulated him before telling me he’d see me later this afternoon to go over what he and Jorge had come up with.

As Juan and Ed walked out of the restaurant, I waved Esteban over from where he was sitting at another table. He brought his coffee cup and sat down looking at me expectantly. I told him as soon as Ed got back, I’d introduce them and then we were going to take a ride to Mesilla. He nodded as I got up. I told him I’d be right back and walked into the kitchen looking for Anna.

She was sitting at the counter talking to Maria, and gave me a big smile as I walked in. I gave her a hug and a kiss before telling her that I’d hired both men. She thought that was wonderful even after I told her they both needed training.

At her questioning look I explained, “We’re going to take them back to the Estancia with us and put them through Apache training, followed by the scout/sniper training Yolanda and her team are putting together. I also want to delay our visit to cousin George until another time and use the time we have today to see the house that Juan and Jorge are going to turn into the new office.”

She told me she’d like to see it as well, so I told her to come with us, and we’d eat lunch in Mesilla. We walked out, and I introduced Anna to Esteban telling him we were going to get our horses and would be back in a few minutes. We saddled up and walked the horses over to the restaurant, tying them to the hitching post before going in.

We waited in the restaurant for another five minutes before Ed rode up to the restaurant. We met him outside, and I introduced Anna and Esteban as we mounted and left for Mesilla at a canter. Anna and I pulled in closer together and slowed down to let them ride up beside us.

“Gentlemen, today’s plan is to visit the house that I’m having turned into an office and rooms for you. We’ll have lunch, and then ride back to Las Cruces. There we’ll meet Juan and Jorge to review the drawings and make any additional changes we want made.” At their nods of acceptance, I asked, “Do either of you have any ties to the Las Cruces area like paying rent or a ranch?”

Ed said, “I’m renting a place by the week and the current week is just about up, so no.”

We all looked at Esteban. “I have a few acres of land I’m trying to ranch, but I’m happy to let it go if I have to.”

“How many head do you have?” Anna asked in curiosity.

“I’m down to the last ten head and they’re pretty mangy. No one wants to buy them, so riding away from them is no real loss.”

“In that case, both of you meet us in the courtyard between the restaurant and the house at sunup, tomorrow morning.” I explained when I saw their curious looks. “We’ll get a start on your training. After that we’ll have breakfast and leave.”

Esteban, even more curious now, asked, “Where will we be going?”

“We’ll be going to the Estancia Dos Santos, where you’ll be taught to track, shoot, and survive in the desert by some of our Apache cousins.” That expression of surprise came back on their faces when I finished that short statement.

Ed finally asked, “How long will we be at the Estancia?”

My reply ensured that they remained surprised. “You’ll be there at least two months and probably closer to six before going to Mesilla to start work as US Deputy Marshals. In the meantime, I will pay you to learn.”

Ed, over his surprise, seemed to be a little upset. I was just about to ask him why, when he fired off a couple of questions letting his anger slip out a little.

“Why do you think we need to learn to shoot? And why on earth do you think we need to learn to track?” Before I could answer he continued. “Speaking for myself at least, I’m pretty damn good at both and don’t see much of a need to waste time learning something I already know.”

I asked, “Ed, have you ever had to shoot at a man who was shooting back at you?” I got the expected, yes, back from him. “Have you ever had to track a human who was trying to hide from you?” This time I got the expected no. “Who do you think is the best pistol shot among us?”

With a laugh, he said, “I’m the best shot here. It doesn’t matter whether it’s with a pistol or rifle, I’m the best.”

Anna and I smiled at him. I pulled my horse up to a stop, and the others followed suit. I pointed to a barrel cactus twenty yards out in the desert to the left. “Draw your pistol Ed and hit the cactus as close to dead center as possible.”

He looked at me with a funny expression on his face, but then set his jaw, pulled the single shot pistol from his saddle holster, and fired. He hit the cactus low and near the right-hand edge. Grinning, he turned towards me. I drew my pistol smoothly, and almost in the same motion, shot the same cactus he’d shot drawing a cross inside a circle.

I changed magazines and holstered the pistol while looking at him. He was looking back and forth at me and the cactus unbelievably. “Ed, most of the gunfights you’re going to be in, are going to be when you’re that close or closer to the men you’ll be trying to arrest. At times, you’ll be facing multiple men all by yourself. The ability to hit exactly where you want, while under the stress of being fired at, is going to mean the difference between life and death.”

He started to say something when I stopped him with a raised hand. I looked at both him and Esteban. “There’s one thing you both needed to remember. There are a few women fugitives amongst all the men you’ll be after, and women are just as capable of shooting as a man is.”

I turned to Anna and nodded to her. She drew and fired at a cactus thirty-five yards away and drew her now well practiced smiley face. She changed magazines and holstered her pistol as both men looked at her and the cactus in disbelief.

In a stern voice I said, “Never, under any circumstances, discount any women among the men.”

Then I smiled. “By the way, Ed; at best, you’re the third best pistol shot among the four of us.”

Anna and I got down, picked up all the empty brass, putting them and the partial magazines in our saddle bags, and putting a full magazine in our pockets.

As we resumed our travel I said, “The men you’ll be tracking won’t be interested in going to jail and will do everything in their power to stop you from arresting them. They will try to hide their tracks, they will set up ambushes, they will create false trails to misdirect your pursuit. Apaches are experts in all of these things and more. By learning to shoot, to read tracks, and how to survive in the desert, you’re giving yourselves the best possible chance of staying alive.”

Anna chimed in telling them that they would also be learning a new way of hand to hand fighting, that she knew firsthand was better than anything else they’d seen or heard of. It would take constant practice to learn it and to keep their skill up afterward, but they would be thankful they knew it at some point. By the time we rode into Mesilla they were both looking much differently at the job, and the training they were going to be getting.

I led us to the house across the street from the church and dismounted. “This is it folks. This will be your office and home once we get it fixed up. At least until you get married, or I’m replaced by someone else.”

We walked around the house and looked at the back yard before heading back to the front. The priest was walking towards us with a smile on his face and greeted me warmly. I provided the introductions all the way around starting with Anna. Everyone said their mucho gustos, and the priest handed me the keys to the house, telling us that it had been cleaned as promised.

I thanked him again and let him know Juan and Jorge would be out soon to start making some changes. I apologized in advance for any problems the noise would cause. The priest laughed and told us that in a growing town like Mesilla noise was a good thing. He blessed everyone and turned to go back to the church.

I opened the door and told everyone it was just a single room, and that Jorge would show us later today how it was going to be remodeled into a small office, a large kitchen, and two bedrooms. We poked around for another ten minutes before I told everyone it was time for lunch and took them to the little cantina Jorge had taken me to last week.

We were about halfway through lunch when something that had been niggling at the back of my brain finally clicked. I’d wondered, when I first saw him, why the little weasel who’d tried to get the Deputy job had seemed so familiar. I knew I’d never met him or seen him, so I’d put it out of my mind; but now, I’d remembered.

I excused myself for a moment and went out to the horses. I pulled out the packet of papers the Judge had given me in Santa Fe and walked back into the cantina. Sitting down I explained while I went through the papers looking for a warrant for the weasel. I found it near the bottom of the stack. There was no picture, but the description fit him to a tee.

I passed it around the table and asked if anyone had ever seen him. Anna and Esteban said no while Ed looked thoughtful for a moment or two before telling us, “It sounds like a guy who was in the bar in Las Cruces last night.”

According to the warrant, his name was Mike Spencer, known as Shifty to his friends. He was a convicted murderer, highway man, and would be gunfighter. I asked if either Ed or Esteban knew how many saloons there were in Mesilla.

Ed said, “There are only three saloons in Mesilla but there are more than twenty cantinas.”

I looked at the warrant and then back up at Ed and the rest. “I don’t think Shifty is the cantina type, so we’ll check the saloons before going back to Las Cruces. Anna, please give Esteban your shotgun and I’ll give Ed my revolver. Ed, give me your horse pistol so my holster is filled.”

Before we left the cantina, I gave them both a badge and had them pin it on. As we approached the first saloon I knew that there was no way Anna was going to sit meekly on the sidelines, so I asked her to go in the back door of the saloon and cover us as well as make sure no one tried to leave through the back door. She smiled at me and went around the corner.

The three of us stopped outside the door and I gave instructions. “Esteban, I want you with the shotgun on my left. Ed, I want you with the revolver on my right. Follow my lead and only start shooting if the situation goes to hell, I start firing, or someone pulls a gun.”

They nodded their understanding and we waited another minute for Anna to get in place before we entered. The place was almost deserted, and there was no sign of Shifty. I looked towards the hallway to the back door and Anna shook her head telling me that no had passed her. We all turned around and walked outside, turning towards the next saloon, just down the block.

As we neared the saloon, I noticed the flea-bitten nag Shifty had been riding this morning was tied up to the hitching rail along with five others and pointed it out to everyone. I motioned Anna around to the back and the rest of us stood at the side of the building giving Anna time to get in.

I gripped my coach shotgun in my hands and led my two deputies inside. Shifty was sitting at a table at the end of the long narrow room with five other men. Stopping ten feet from the table I called his name.

He stiffened and sneeringly asked, “What do you want? Did you come to your senses?”

“Shifty, you’re delusional if you think I’d ever hire you as a Deputy,” I said. “No, I have a warrant for your arrest. Now, you can walk out under your own power, or the undertaker can carry you out. It’s your call.”

He stood up, as did the big man next to him. Without taking my eyes off Shifty I said, “Mister, this isn’t your affair. Do yourself a favor, sit back down, and stay out of this.”

“Well now, Marshal, since Shifty just joined my gang, it is my fight,” came the unexpected reply.

I looked at him curiously. Not expecting an answer, I asked, “What’s your gang’s name?

Some folks are just born stupid, I guess, because he proudly answered, “Most folks call us the Stevens Gang.”

I smiled at that, as another brain cell clicked. The Stevens Gang had been terrorizing small ranches, crossroad stores, and stagecoaches, for over three years, killing anyone who got in their way.

“In that case you and your gang are under arrest as well. I have warrants for your entire gang.”

I gave all five of them the once over and then pointed at the one standing and called him Red. He nodded, and I said the others must be his brothers Bob, and Jeff, and the hired help, Manny, and Big Tony. He laughed and they each nodded his head when I called a name.

“Alright,” I said. “All of you stand up with your hands empty and we’ll try to do this the civilized way.”

Red sneered, “The civilized way is overrated as far as I’m concerned.”