Nick Stolter Read online

  “We all have things we’d like to change, Zippy. This has been eating at me for a while. Like a loose end that I can’t get smoothed down,” Whelihan said as he shook his head.

  Stolter looked at the fire crackling in the wood stove. As if in a smoky, vague dream he could remember the shattered short glass as it slammed into the jaw of the man, and had forced him into the wood front bar. The quivering last desperate attempt at self-defense brought out a knife with a vicious swing at Stolter. The tall gunman caught the wrist and with considerable strength brought the arm around so a thin, red streak erupted from the man’s neck. The saloon patrons had crept back in to peer at the bloodied heap on the floor. No one had claimed to have known him as he bled out. Stolter tried to shake the memory out of his thoughts.

  The scent of sage and animals carried on the breeze. A scruffy dog gnawed on a bone on the porch. The top branches of the cottonwood rustled in the light breeze. The darkness of the early morning hid the tall grass of the valley beyond.

  “So how long have you two been riding together?” Zippy asked.

  Stolter said, “Couple years back, we got thrown together on a stage run over to Kansas.” He gestured to Whelihan with his chin to take over the story.

  Chapter 4

  Stolter stretched out one foot. “Out west of Dodge, I’d say about seventy miles there is a wide wooden bridge that crosses the Arkansas River. Another road branches off north and goes up to the fort and there might be one hundred soldiers there. If you ever go by there with any regularity, you’ll see them mounted up with a waving flag out front patrolling.” Whelihan cleared his throat.

  “Right there at that crossroads of sorts is big bar restaurant and hotel establishment called Susanna’s Inn. It’s a popular stop with good food, place where a man can camp out if needed. There is a back porch that is screened in so folks can sleep in the air rather than inside. After you get across the bridge, maybe fifty yards, there is a road that turns down into a valley and goes south almost all the way to the Mexican border. That’s the cutoff road. At a gradual swing west it heads for Santa Fe.” Whelihan signaled for another cup of coffee.

  Stolter grinned and said, “Most of the stages headed for Santa Fe stayed on the well-traveled road that went by a few forts. It was safer considering the Indians liked to steal the horses and kidnap women travelers. It was and still is a very busy road.” Whelihan nodded as he stirred a spoon of sugar into the black liquid.

  Stolter rubbed his jaw and grinned. “We were laid over in Susanna’s before we made the run back to Franklin and a wire came in that another stage had met up with some trouble on the cutoff. Some local rancher had taken in the passengers and had tried to make them as comfortable as possible. They were waiting on a stage to come pick them up. We weren’t due to roll out for another two days. We were going to get drunk and chase around after the pretty ladies.” He chuckled and winked.

  Whelihan grinned and said, “I was comfortable in the barber chair getting a shave when Carmichael leaned in the door and asked if we wanted to make some cash. Twenty dollars for twenty miles. Overland was paying as it was one of their stages had stopped. I won’t turn my nose up at twenty bucks so I said yes.” He looked over at Stolter.

  Stolter said, “I was getting my hair cut and waiting on my turn for a shave that evening. I remember that. It didn’t understand why the twenty dollars because I’ve been paid five to take a stage out to pick up passengers and bring them back. I’d say that I wasn’t exactly suspicious but something about it didn’t add up to twenty dollars apiece.”

  Whelihan rubbed his face and continued. “Overland already had the team hitched. They were just waiting to see if we’d take the job. I don’t know if there were other outriders. All I knew was that the driver asked for us.” Zippy nodded.

  Stolter said, “We saddled up and followed the stage out probably an hour before sunset. Carmichael knew the road like the back of his hand, plus I was familiar with it so there wasn’t much concern on that score.”

  Whelihan took another drink of coffee and grimaced. “About five miles out the stage pulled over to the right for an oncoming freighter. It was Mike Cushing, who held up. Mike told us that down by Red Trail Creek there had been some trouble. He pointed to me and Stolter and told us that we might be using our iron so get ready.”

  Stolter shook his head. “That’s when we found out a stage had been burned down onto the axles. The driver was gone, two of the male passengers had been killed and three little kids had been left screaming and crying alongside the road.”

  Whelihan voice was low. “It had happened about four hours before Mike got there. Someone had taken the kids to a house nearby to feed them and calm them down. We didn’t know if there were outriders or shotgun riders on the stage. Overland was paying us to bring back the bodies and the kids.”

  Stolter grimaced like he was in pain. “Mike said he was going on to Susanna’s and that he’d be there until day after the following, in case his freighter was needed. He was running empty and his horses were tired and he figured not too much else could be done until daylight.”

  Whelihan leaned his arms on his knees and shook his head. Zippy observed the tall man. “We could smell it in the dark before we got right up on it. You can smell burnt leather and wood. In the dark we couldn’t make out too much, but someone had made sure that stage was destroyed. If it was Indians, they would’ve taken the children or killed them. I can still remember that ugly smell,” he said with a shiver.

  Whelihan stood up and walked to the window sill and leaned against it. “Half a mile on there was a driveway leading up to ranch house where the kids were. Swanlund or Swanson or something with a swan in it. The missus had cleaned up the kids and fed them some dinner however, according to her, they didn’t eat like a normal child would’ve eaten dinner. You could tell she was nervous about it.”

  Stolter leaned back and took in a deep breath. “Brothers Davy Maitland, seven years old and Joey Maitland, nine years old were traveling with their father, James Maitland. They had been to Hattiesburg to look at horses. The little girl was seven year old Monica Devries, who was traveling with her father and mother, Frank and Camella Devries. Camella was or is younger sister to James Maitland. So it was a family traveling together.”

  Zippy sat up straight. “Why does that name sound familiar?” Whelihan held up a hand to stop him.

  Whelihan crossed his arms over his chest. “Everything they had owned burned in the stage. Their parents had died in a stagecoach. They had almost lost their lives in a stagecoach. You might be able to imagine how they might not want to get back into a stage.”

  Stolter said, “Even with the bodies wrapped up in blankets and rope, you could smell that they were burned. Ginger and I loaded them on to the top where the bags usually go and roped them down tight. Those poor folks. We can imagine but we don’t know what they suffered through.”

  Stolter said, “When Carmichael opened the stage door to help the children in, they came to a dead stop on the porch. The little girl, she looked at Whelihan and asked if he was good at using his gun. You could’ve knocked Ginger off his horse with a feather. Dead serious. Seven years old. She was not having anything to do with getting on that stage.”

  Whelihan chuckled. “All these years, never had a kid ask me that. She walked down the steps to the porch and right over to me. She held up her right hand and said she would never ride another stage and that she was gonna ride with me.” He laughed out loud. Zippy grinned.

  “What could I do? I bent down, grabbed her arm and swung her up in front of me. Damnedest thing. She gripped the saddle horn and wouldn’t even look at the stage.”

  Stolter nodded. “The older boy, Joey, looks at his little brother and tells him that he’s gonna ride up on top with the driver. The look of surprise on Carmichael’s face said it all. The littler boy, Davy, said no and then pointed to me and said he was gonna ride with the other gun.”

  Zippy asked, “Oh, so you are a
gun?”

  Stolter grinned. “I turned into one right then.” They both laughed.

  Whelihan said, “That’s when we realized that this wasn’t their first stage ride. These were youngsters that traveled and had been around horses and coaches. They knew we were outriders to protect the stage and they must have figured that being close to a gun meant safety.”

  Stolter shook his head as he said, “After I swung him up behind me, I asked him if he knew where he was going. He said that most likely by now they had family waiting for them in Dodge.” Stolter looked dumbfounded.

  “We got back into Susanna’s to find a troop detail from Fort Laird waiting for us. I come riding in with the little girl on my horse with me and a lieutenant started yelling at me for endangering her safety. I lifted her down and put her on her feet and you could see she was angry.” Stolter held up his hands as if he were in trouble.

  “Monica got in front of that lieutenant and told him to stand down and back off. Seven years old and she is making an officer back up in his tracks.” They all laughed.

  Stolter burst out with a laugh. “By this time, Joey is down off the stage, Davy is off my horse and both are running for Monica. I don’t know what to think.”

  “Joey put a hand on Monica’s shoulder and stopped her. Then he looked at the lieutenant and a few of the troops. Joey turned around and pointed at Ginger,” Stolter said as he started to laugh.

  “Lieutenant, five of your best men could try to draw on him and all five would be dead before they could clear leather. That’s Ginger Whelihan. She could not have been in safer hands.” Stolter raised his eyebrows.

  Whelihan started to laugh. “Yeah, that caused a bit of a stir. A known gunfighter going after the grandchildren of Colonel Stanford Devries.”

  Zippy’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “THAT Colonel Devries?” Whelihan nodded. The men laughed. As Stolter chuckled he looked at Whelihan. There were dozens of stories between them, shared experiences, and a commonality that created a trust.

  In the darkness an hour later Stolter laid down on the cushioned alder pole bench dotted with black marks from burned out cigarettes. After tugging off the boots, he pulled the rough wool blanket over himself. He was thankful for the meal and the hot coffee. As he closed his eyes, his thoughts turned to those lush green acres, the happy smiling faces of his children, and the pretty brown eyes of this loving wife.

  Chapter 5

  In the gray dawn of the next day, Whelihan and Stolter kept well back in the trees and skirted the small ranch on the west side. Sixteen miles to the south was Vista del Mar which boasted fresh spring water that wouldn’t kill you, hot food at all three bars and a genuine copper still pumping out drinkable whiskey twice each month.

  Not wanting to risk being seen by the locals, Whelihan and Stolter set up afternoon camp out the other side of a broad stream up underneath three old cottonwoods.

  “This is one of my preferred places to camp out because the ground seemed to have a low hum down deep somewheres. I’ve probably stayed right here over a dozen times.” Stolter frowned as he built a campfire so the smoke dissipated up through the tree limbs. The horseman attributed Whelihan’s peculiar comments to being out in the sun for too long.

  The buckskin palomino of Stolter and the strawberry roan of Whelihan grazed while the coffee bubbled. A twig snapped and Stolter paid no attention until a rustling sound made him turn around to look. Two young Mexican girls, one holding a giggling brown baby, stood with an empty pot and big brown eyes looking at Whelihan, who had started to draw his Colt.

  Stolter could see they must have been around nine, maybe ten years old. “Are you the man with the fast guns and the green eyes with the chilies?” Whelihan said nothing but had an intense frown on his face. The girls giggled.

  “I am Carmen Rodriguez Zendajas and this is my younger sister, Elaina Rodriguez Zendejas and the baby is my cousin and his name is Victor Romero Menera.” Three sets of big brown eyes stared at Whelihan and Stolter who were visibly shaken by the sneaky children.

  “Would you trade chilies for sugar?” Whelihan was not used to anyone sneaking up on him, let alone a couple of young girls carrying a baby.

  “We are getting ready for supper and mama is making chicken enchiladas, rice and beans but someone forgot to bring a couple of chilies for the sauce. Uncle Zippy said you might trade for sugar.” Long straight black hair, smooth brown skin, and leather boots.

  Whelihan said, “Well, yes, I have a bag of chilies. How did they know he had them?”

  The younger girl smiled and laughed as she said, “We smelled them when you men rode by earlier.” That made Whelihan turn his head to the side a bit and frown again.

  After Whelihan portioned out a couple of the chili pods, the older girl sifted coarse brown sugar into a small leather pouch for Whelihan. Stolter chuckled to himself about a couple of young girls getting the better of a lightning fast gunman who prided himself on being alert. Somehow the two men had ridden right past a family of Mexicans and didn’t know it.

  Whelihan and Stolter watched the girls with the happy baby make their way back through the trees along the river and disappear around the bend in the river. “Everyone in Zippy’s family have a talent of some sort. Some of those skills come in handy and they are useful. Others you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy.”

  “So the ladies came to also invite us to dinner, is that it? We should go. No telling when we’ll get another hot meal.” Stolter made a case for going to dinner with the Mexicans.

  Whelihan said, “Just so you know, you don’t want any of them pretty girls mistaking me for husband material.” That made Stolter fall over laughing.

  ###

  The next morning nestled alongside the smoldering embers of the fire was a tin pot of succulent cut up potatoes, soft creamy beans, scrambled eggs with creamy cheese and tomatoes, spicy reddish sausage with chunks of black spices and a dozen soft corn tortillas. Whelihan jumped up and paced back and forth

  “And you know they probably snuck right in here on those little kid feet and made fun of us while we were sleeping. Just waltzed right in, set up this food while we were sleeping right there.” Whelihan pointed to the bedroll.

  Stolter shoved a big mouthful of filled tortilla into his face. “Shut up and eat.” He swallowed. “It probably was a better breakfast than they could have gotten at one of the saloons and you should sit down and enjoy it before it gets cold.”

  After Whelihan had taken a mouthful, he stopped for a moment and speculated about how the Mexicans even fit in the saddle eating good food like this. Stolter laughed and said he was going to need a nap after eating so much.

  Just before noon, Whelihan and Stolter saddled up, broke camp and rode out to the trail where the Mexicans had told him they would wait. When they came around the curve there was a crowd of people, horses, children and a couple of wagons parked alongside the dusty path. There was nothing discreet and quiet about the chattering, clamoring crescendo of voices. Two of the men held up hands in greeting as Whelihan and Stolter walked in.

  “What is this? There’s got to be thirty people here.” Stolter’s mouth fell open. Greetings were exchanged. Introductions made. One of the Mexican women said something in Spanish about the tin pot tied to the pack on Stolter’s horse. Stolter thanked the woman and handed the pot to her as she smiled and nodded.

  Stolter told Zippy about the early morning breakfast delivery. Zippy sat on his mustang grinning. “The kids are trained to be silent. They have contests to see who can get closest without being heard. You were just a couple of lucky souls giving them the chance to practice.” Whelihan winked to Stolter who simply shook his head.

  “I don’t understand this. Why would someone bring their entire family with them if they’re about to run off with horses? Don’t you put your family in danger of getting locked up, too?” Stolter had an incredulous look on his face.

  Whelihan leaned on his saddle horn. “Americans won’t lock
up a mother and a grandmother and a bunch of little kids. It would make a man crazy stepping and fetching for women in jail. And those crying babies and little kids? They’re always hungry or something. Stop and think about it. Do you really think a man wants to contend with traveling with women and little kids AND steal horses?”

  Stolter shook his head. “Okay, I see what you mean. Two years ago Marianna and I took all three kids back to New Orleans on the train to see my brothers and their families. Five days of being cooped up on that moving train with not just my own kids, but about a dozen other kids who were yelling and crying, too. We never had it easy one inch all that way.” Stolter rubbed his forehead.

  Zippy gestured to the crowd. “Stop and think a minute. Here is a lone, dusty trail out in the middle of nowhere and you have ten men on horseback and twenty five women and children walking along like they are just going to the neighbors. Nobody knows that they’ve probably walked a couple hundred miles over the last month to get here. They don’t look like it. But day after tomorrow, you’ll have every man, woman and child on a horse all racing to get back to Mexico. They’re Mexicans headed for Mexico. Nobody will even look twice at them. Nobody will even look to see that the horses are unbranded, some not even completely broken or how a little kid come to be riding a big horse.” Whelihan laughed as he gestured to the gathered people.

  Stolter shook his head again. There was more to the story but with his understanding only a few words of Spanish he was unknowing of the details. The Mexicans and Whelihan talked and gestured for about twenty minutes while Stolter watched the kids play some variation of tag using the wagon as a base. That could be Kelly, Lola and Colton playing in amongst the wagons and horses.

  Whelihan got Stolter’s attention. “We’re gonna ride the route we’ll take after we get the horses off the ranch. We’re going to a meet up spot where you’ll take your horses and head west. I’ll ride south with the rest of the herd down into Sinaloa where I need to go.” Stolter nodded and trotted after the men.