Blue-Eyed Devil Read online

  The remaining rider stepped off his horse and squatted next to Kha-to-nay. Chauncey Teagarden raised one of his Colts.

  “No,” Virgil said.

  Chauncey shrugged and held the gun half raised. The Indian began to chant something. In a short while the rest of the still-surviving Indians moved slowly through the crowd and gathered around Kha-to-nay’s body. They joined the chant. It was nightfall, and the mourning Apaches gathered around their fallen leader were lit only by the violent flames of the burning town.

  “It’s over,” Virgil said. “You know enough Apache to tell them that?”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “Say they can take him and go. We won’t bother them,” Virgil said.

  “We got ’em in front of us,” Teagarden said. “We could clean them up for god.”

  “I know,” Virgil said.

  He nodded toward the group of Apaches.

  “Talk to ’em,” Virgil said.

  It was as much sign language as me speaking Apache, but I was able to get it across that they were free to take Kha-to-nay and go. The terrified and now delirious crowd in the streets watched them as they rode past bodies they’d killed, out of Appaloosa and away from it. I thought about how far they would have to ride before the burning town would no longer be visible.

  “I thought Pony was trying to save his brother,” Chauncey said.

  “He was,” Virgil said.

  “Guess he wanted to save the girl more,” Chauncey said.

  “Guess he did,” Virgil said.

  46

  VIRGIL AND ALLIE and I were sitting on what was left of the front porch of the Boston House. Much of the town was burned out. Against the charred backdrop of it, women and children and old men were walking aimlessly about.

  “Why do you suppose they didn’t burn our house?” Allie said.

  Virgil shrugged. He was looking down Main Street at some riders coming in. It was Callico.

  “Because we’re friends of Pony?” I said.

  “But he took Laurel and was going to kill her,” Allie said.

  “Things weren’t going the way he wanted,” Virgil said.

  “And he’d change like that?” Allie said.

  “Folks do,” Virgil said.

  “Savages do,” Allie said.

  Virgil nodded.

  “How’d he get hold of Laurel?” Virgil said.

  “She saw the flames. She became hysterical. I tried to keep her with me. But despite all I’ve done for her, she paid me no mind. She was in the street and he saw her and must have recognized her.”

  Virgil nodded.

  “Got him killed,” he said.

  “His own brother,” Allie said.

  “Laurel,” Virgil said.

  We sat quietly as Amos Callico and his troops straggled back into the smoldering town.

  When he saw us, Callico pulled his horse over and stopped. He was spattered with mud, and his clothes were rumpled. He took his hat off.

  “Miss Allie,” he said, and bowed his head slightly.

  “Welcome home, Mr. Callico,” Allie said.

  “Thank you very kindly, Miss Allie,” Callico said.

  He looked at Virgil and me.

  “Well,” Callico said. “We did it.”

  “We surely did,” Virgil said.

  “Don’t expect those red niggers will try this town again.”

  “Probably not,” Virgil said.

  “Thanks for your help,” Callico said.

  Virgil and I both nodded.

  “Well,” Callico said, and looked around at the ruin of a town. “Get me a bath and a night’s sleep, and we’ll start putting this town back together.”

  “Gonna cost some money,” I said.

  “Those Indians are from a United States government reservation,” Callico said. “I figure the government owes us.”

  “Think you can convince them?” I said.

  “You boys just watch me,” Callico said.

  “We will,” Virgil said.

  Callico turned his horse and fell back in among the returning straggle.

  We watched him ride away.

  “The hero of Appaloosa,” I said.

  “He gets government money to rebuild this place,” Virgil said, “he will be.”

  “And they’ll never remember what he was doing while the place was burning,” I said.

  “He knows many important people,” Allie said. “I’ll bet he can do it.”

  Virgil nodded.

  “When will Pony bring Laurel back?” Allie said.

  “Soon as he thinks she’s safe,” Virgil said.

  “Do you know where he took her?” Allie said.

  “Red Castle Rock, probably,” Virgil said.

  “You know where that is?” Allie said.

  “I do,” Virgil said.

  “Well, why on earth don’t you go out there,” Allie said. “And bring her back.”

  “He’ll bring her back,” Virgil said. “When it’s time.”

  “She’s alone, sleeping God knows where with a half-breed tracker,” Allie said. “She’s sixteen, for God’s sake. I’m trying to bring her up right.”

  “Doin’ a fine job,” Virgil said.

  “And one thing I know,” Allie said. “If I know anything, I know men.”

  Virgil nodded.

  “And let me tell you right now,” Allie said, “that no good will come of him running off with her someplace alone.”

  Staring down the smoke-soiled main street of Appaloosa, Virgil turned his head and squinted at Allie.

  “I love you, Allie,” Virgil said. “Not exactly sure why sometimes. And it looks like I’m keep doing it.”

  “Why, thank you, Virgil,” Allie said.

  “But you say some of the goddamned stupidest things I have ever heard,” he said.

  “Everett,” Allie said. “Are you going to let him speak that way to me?”

  “Pony killed his brother to save Laurel,” I said.

  “Does that make him a good candidate for husband?” Allie said.

  “Might mean he loves her,” I said.

  “Oh, piffle,” Allie said. “Why does anybody love a nybody?”

  Virgil squinted at her some more.

  “Damned if I know,” he said.

  47

  FAT WILLIS MCDONOUGH, who had no bar to tend at the moment, walked down to Virgil’s house from the remains of the Boston House.

  “Your friend Pony Flores is in some trouble up on Main Street,” Willis said.

  “Girl with him?” Virgil said.

  “Yep.”

  Virgil stood.

  “You fellas go ahead,” Fat Willis said. “Never much liked hurrying.”

  “Not generally much need,” Virgil said.

  We started up First Street. And when we reached Main, we turned left.

  Pony was there, still mounted, with Laurel sitting behind him, her arms around his waist. Standing in front of them in a semicircle in the street were Callico and his four surviving cops.

  “Managed to get two of them killed at the ford the other day,” Virgil said.

  Standing on the street beside Pony, near his left stirrup, with his two ivory-handled Colts gleaming in the sunlight, was Chauncey Teagarden.

  “Fellas want to arrest the hero of the great Apache war,” Teagarden said to us. “Don’t seem right to me.”

  We paused so that Callico had Teagarden and Pony in front of him, and me and Virgil behind him. His uniformed officers may have lost some of their confidence in him at the river crossing. They looked at us a little uneasily.

  “You are interfering with an officer in performance of his legal duties,” Callico said sternly.

  Teagarden smiled.

  “You bet your ass,” he said.

  “We are five armed men,” Callico said.

  “And we’re only four,” Teagarden said. “What a shame.”

  Virgil said, “What you arresting him for, Amos?”

  “I wa
nt to know what part he played in all of this,” Callico said. “I mean, his brother was the one burned the town. Why’d this man take that girl? How much did he help his brother with the burning and looting?”

  I smiled to myself. They’d been too busy with the burning to do much looting. That would probably have come next day, along with raping, if Pony hadn’t cut the whole thing short.

  “He helped save your town,” Virgil said.

  “Got to find that out officially, Virg,” Callico said. “Got to take him in.”

  “No,” Virgil said.

  “Virg,” Callico said. “You gotta understand. We’ll turn him loose, soon’s we clear him.”

  Virgil said nothing.

  I said, “Callico, we all know that this is about looking like the man in charge at the battle of Appaloosa.”

  “You’re planning to interfere?” Callico said.

  “We are,” I said.

  “All three of you?”

  “Four,” Pony said.

  Callico nodded forcefully.

  “We’ll discuss this again,” he said.

  “No,” Virgil said. “We won’t.”

  The sound of hammers and saws filled the street. A big freight wagon hulked past, stacked with partially burned lumber, the massive draft horses leaning hard into their harness. Callico turned sharply, jerked his head at his policemen, and walked back down Main Street. We watched them go. Pony looked at Virgil and smiled.

  “ ‘Virg’?” he said.

  “My mother didn’t even call me that,” Virgil said.

  “What did she call you?” I said.

  “Don’t remember,” Virgil said.

  48

  WE WENT back down First Street toward Virgil’s house. When we got there, Allie was on the front porch. Laurel slid off the back of Pony’s horse and ran to her. Pony stayed on the horse.

  “My child is home safe,” Allie crooned. “My child is home.”

  “Don’t think she’s staying, Allie,” Virgil said.

  He was standing on the first step of the porch, next to Laurel.

  “What,” Allie said. “What.”

  Virgil said, “You stayin’, Laurel?”

  She shook her head.

  “You going away?” Virgil said.

  She nodded.

  “With who?” Virgil said.

  Laurel pointed at Pony.

  “You can say his name,” Virgil said.

  Laurel stared at Virgil.

  “You can,” Virgil said.

  She stared some more. Virgil leaned forward and whispered in her ear. She nodded. He whispered again. She shook her head. He whispered again. She was motionless. Then she looked at Pony. And at me and Allie, and obliquely at Chauncey Teagarden. She looked back at Virgil and then at Pony again.

  “Pony,” she whispered.

  I saw Allie’s eyes widen. Her mouth opened. But something stopped her before she spoke.

  “You want that, Pony?” Virgil said.

  Pony was turned sideways in his saddle. His right foot was in the stirrup, and his left knee hooked over the saddle. He was rolling a cigarette.

  “Sí,” Pony said, and lit the cigarette.

  “Got some money left from Brimstone,” Virgil said. “I’ll get you some.”

  Pony shook his head.

  “Good way to start, Jefe,” he said. “Each other, nothing else.”

  Virgil nodded.

  “Buy her a horse,” he said.

  Pony smiled.

  “I get her horse, Jefe.”

  Virgil nodded slowly.

  “Kinda what I was afraid of,” he said.

  Pony looked at me and put out his hand.

  “Everett,” he said.

  “Pony.”

  He looked at Teagarden.

  “Gracias,” he said.

  Teagarden shook his hand.

  “On down the road,” he said.

  Pony nodded. He looked at Allie.

  “Señorita,” he said.

  She was holding her apron up to her face.

  Virgil stood in front of Laurel with his hands at his sides.

  “Wherever you go. Whatever happens. You got some people here who love you.”

  She nodded. Then put her arms around Virgil and buried her face in his neck and cried. He put his arms around her and stood expressionless, holding her comfortably until she was through.

  She stepped away from him and looked at Pony.

  “Chiquita,” he said, and put out his hand.

  She swung up behind him. He turned the horse and kicked him into a trot and they left. All of us watched as they rode off. Allie sniffled loudly.

  “Nice ceremony,” Teagarden said.

  49

  EMMA SCARLET wore a red wig for business, but since we were more friends than anything else, and since this morning we had finished our business already, she left the wig on its holder while we drank coffee in her room.

  “So, the girl ran off with the half-breed,” Emma said.

  “Laurel,” I said. “With Pony Flores.”

  “Love,” Emma said.

  “I guess.”

  We drank some coffee.

  “I think Allie was a little upset,” I said.

  “You do,” Emma said.

  “Think she was planning on some fine eastern gentleman,” I said.

  “For crissake, Everett, Laurel didn’t even talk.”

  “’Cept to Virgil,” I said. “And ’fore she left she said Pony’s name out loud.”

  “Golly,” Emma said.

  “She might have been losing her baby, but she’d only had a baby for a couple years.”

  “And maybe she didn’t mind,” Emma said.

  “No?” I said.

  “Maybe she didn’t like the competition,” Emma said.

  “Competition with who?” I said.

  “Laurel,” Emma said.

  “For?”

  “Virgil,” Emma said.

  “Virgil wouldn’t lay a hand on Laurel,” I said.

  “Don’t matter what Virgil would do,” Emma said. “It’s what Allie fears that matters.”

  “You think Allie was afraid Virgil would run off with Laurel?” I said.

  “’Course she was,” Emma said.

  “I don’t see that,” I said. “I known them since they been together. Virgil never run off on her.”

  “She ever run out on him?” Emma said.

  “She did,” I said.

  Emma was still naked from our time of business, and as she talked she leaned back and looked at her extended leg.

  “Where’d she end up?”

  “Pig wallow in Placido,” I said. “On the Rio Grande.”

  “How’d she get out of there?”

  “Me and Virgil found her, took her out,” I said.

  “And if you hadn’t?”

  “She’d a died,” I said.

  “So, he owes her leavin’,” Emma said.

  “More than one,” I said.

  “And if it weren’t for him she’d be fucking her life away in some dump down by Mexico.”

  “So, she’d be worried about anybody,” I said.

  “Especially a young girl starting to come of age that speaks only to Virgil?”

  I nodded and drank some coffee.

  “Hadn’t thought of it that way,” I said.

  “’Course you hadn’t,” Emma said. “She’s a woman.” She waved her naked leg around. “You only think of her this way.”

  “You don’t seem to mind,” I said.

  She shrugged and pointed her toes.

  “Not with you,” she said.

  50

  SOMEONE HAD SET UP a steam saw at the corner of Main and Second Street, and you could hear it eighteen hours a day, every day, all over town. It was like the base melody for an orchestra of hand tools: hammers, chisels, mallets, and handsaws hovering in lighter cadence. The raucous language of the laborers formed a vocalization.

  Several saloons had set up
tents with plank-and-barrel bars, and enough people got drunk to keep me and Virgil in business from our headquarters on what was left of the Boston House’s front porch.

  Virgil was looking at it all.

  “We had this many government folks before,” Virgil said, “Kah-to-nay wouldn’t have attacked.”

  “And Callico has kissed the ass of every one of them since,” I said.

  “The hero of the recovery,” Virgil said.

  “Lot people will remember him for it, and be grateful,” I said. “He knows a lot of people. He’s brought in lot of money for rebuilding.”

  “The savior of Appaloosa,” Virgil said.

  “Been better if he never lost it in the first place,” I said.

  “Would,” Virgil said.

  A big lumber wagon pulled by eight oxen drudged up Main Street past us toward the steam saw with a load of logs.

  “When they get that cut up,” I said, “think they’ll cure it proper?”

  “Nope.”

  I smiled.

  “Be good not to buy a new building in town for a few years,” I said. “Let it dry out.”

  A handsome two-bench buggy went by in the other direction, pulled by two gray horses. A driver sat on the front seat, and in back was General Laird, with Chauncey Teagarden beside him. Chauncey was wearing a black jacket with conchos, and his ivory handle gleamed in contrast.

  “Chauncey’s looking good,” I said.

  “He is good,” Virgil said.

  “He still here for you, you think?”

  “Be my guess,” Virgil said.

  “Because of the son,” I said.

  “Yep.”

  “What are they waiting for?” I said.

  “Chauncey likes to play the fish for a rime, ’fore he catches him,” Virgil said. “And during the recent Indian thing we was kinda useful.”

  “I got another theory,” I said.

  “Figured you would,” Virgil said. “Bein’ as how you went to West Point and all.”

  “Things are in a state of some flux,” I said.

  “ ‘Flux’?” Virgil said.

  “Like flow,” I said. “Things are moving and changing.”