Assignment, p.13
Assignment, page 13
Wes and Pinchot followed, then Elkins, Longstreet, and Garcón.
A mile or so later, wild splashing sounds came from the major ford as the banditos crossed the river.
Wes held up one hand, then reined-in just shy of the river.
Pinchot frowned. “What’re you doing? The captain said we could—”
Wes nodded. “I know.”
Elkins, Longstreet and Garcón rode up and stopped, their horses milling about, eager to run. Elkins said, “What’s going on? Why are we stoppin’?”
Wes said, “I don’t think they know we’re back here. Let’s walk the horses across.”
Elkins said, “But we don’t know where Sandoval’s place is!”
Longstreet said, “They’re gonna kill him!”
“We know it’s south of Matamoros, and the trail won’t be hard to follow. Trust me.” Wes glanced at Longstreet. “If they were gonna kill him outright, they’d’ve already done it.” Saddle leather creaked as Wes turned Charley away and walked him into the water. The slight splashing sounds of his hooves in the water were washed away by the current rushing past.
Pinchot followed, then the others.
On the south bank, Wes urged Charley to a lope to wait for the others.
Up ahead, the banditos were galloping hard south.
The Rangers gave chase, Wes and Pinchot in the lead, then Elkins, Garcón and Longstreet.
As they neared the few buildings north of Matamoros, two explosions sounded, accompanied by two bright flashes of fire. The first came from behind a small, dark adobe outbuilding on the right. The second, an instant later, came from a stand of mesquites on the left, a slightly darker silhouette against the night sky.
Elkins passed Wes on the left, leaning low in the saddle, his revolver pulled as he charged the mesquite.
Wes glanced back past Pinchot.
Longstreet was riding hard toward the building.
A single shot, then another came from behind Wes on the left.
Wes pulled his right Colt, leaned forward in the saddle and touched Charley in the flanks with his heels.
Charley responded, galloping even harder as two more shots, then a third came from behind Wes on the right.
He and Charley passed into and through Matamoros. Wes could only hope Pinchot and Garcón were with him and that Elkins and Longstreet were catching up.
Some seventy yards ahead, a flurry of activity as the riders turned right and reined-in. Then there was a lot of yelling and arms gesturing.
Someone ran to a figure draped over a horse, grabbed his feet and leaned back.
From fifty yards away, Wes fired, cocked and fired again and the man wheeled away and fell.
The figure on the horse slumped off and fell into the dirt, his head facing south, his wrists apparently bound behind him.
The horse skittered and galloped away to the south.
At forty yards, another figure ran up and bent to grab for the shoulders of the man on the ground.
Wes and Pinchot fired at the same time and the man staggered back and fell.
Then flame licked away from a gun in the yard and suddenly Pinchot wasn’t there anymore.
Garcón and Wes both fired at the flame, and the dark form of the man went down.
Then Longstreet and Elkins were behind Wes and Garcón, their horses’ hooves adding to the solid drumming wall of sound. A second later, Elkins came up on Wes’ left and Longstreet filled the gap between Wes and Garcón.
Thirty yards away, eight or ten men in the yard. They were yelling, gesturing, and bringing up their guns.
And the four Rangers went into a full-blown Ranger charge, all leaning forward in the saddle, all firing.
Wes had both Colts out. He alternated cocking and firing. As one Colt bucked in his hand, he cocked the other.
To his left, Elkins suddenly straightened, then reined-in to the left. His left arm useless, he still pulled his Winchester from the scabbard, worked the lever and fired into the yard over and over.
Wes, Longstreet and Garcón continued the charge, yelling and firing and firing again.
Epilogue
Two days later, Wes led Charley toward the first stock car on the north-bound train. According to the conductor, a man in his 30s Wes had never seen before, it was bound for “Laredo, San Antonio, Amarillo and all points in between.” Most of the passengers had already loaded.
When Wes got Charley situated and stepped back down the ramp, he stopped as the conductor hurried past in front of him on his way to the passenger car. “Oh. ‘scuse me.” Behind him, two men loaded the ramp into the stock car and slid the door closed.
As he passed, the conductor only glanced at him. “We’ll be departing soon, Ranger.”
Wes nodded. “Yes sir.”
Corporal Ringley and Captain Garcia were waiting for him, along with Rangers Elkins, Garcón and Longstreet.
Ranger Pinchot, in his coffin, would be on the next east-bound train for his home in Lafayette, Louisiana. Captain Garcia’s commendation would accompany him.
Wes stopped in front of the captain and nodded. “Sorry again we weren’t able to bring Sandoval back to you, Cap. He didn’t give us much choice in the matter.”
The captain nodded. “It’s all right. You brought Corporal Ringley back, and Ranger Elkins is only slightly worse for wear. It was a fair enough trade I guess.”
Elkins laughed. “Speak for yourself, Captain.”
They all laughed,
Wes said, “Yes sir, and as it turned out we didn’t wear our badges into Mexico.”
The captain laughed. “No, I guess you didn’t at that.”
Wes shook hands with Corporal Ringley. “Jason.”
“Take care, Wes. And if you ever need a job—”
Wes nodded, then shook hands with the others.
From the steps of the passenger car, the conductor called, “Ranger?”
Wes glanced around at him, then looked at his friends again. He nodded. “Well, it was my privilege to ride with you boys.” Then he turned, walked to the passenger car, and boarded the train without looking back.
*******
About the Author
Harvey Stanbrough was born in New Mexico, seasoned in Texas and baked in Arizona. For a time, he wrote under five personas and several pseudonyms, but he takes a pill for that now and writes only under his own name. Mostly.
Harvey is an award-winning writer who follows Heinlein’s Rules avidly. He has written and published over 60 novels, 8 novellas, and over 200 short stories. He has also written 16 nonfiction books on writing, and he’s compiled and published 31 collections of short fiction and 5 critically acclaimed poetry collections.
To see his other works, please visit HarveyStanbrough.com.
For his best advice on writing, see his Daily Journal at HEStanbrough.com.
Copyright Notice, License Notes, Credits, Disclaimer
Assignment: Brownsville
A Wes Crowley Gap Novel from
StoneThread Publishing
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Copyright ©2021 Harvey Stanbrough
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author or the publisher.
About StoneThread Publishing and the License Notes
StoneThread Publishing is a small independent publisher. We publish fiction across the genres, nonfiction books on writing, and poetry.
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Credits
Special thanks to my first readers: Russ Jones, K.C. Riggs, and Tony Herring, all of whose input was invaluable.
Cover photo © Deposit Photos
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction, strictly a product of the author's imagination. Any perceived resemblance or similarity to any actual events or persons, living or dead, and any perceived slights or people, places, or organizations are products of the reader’s imagination. Probably.
Harvey Stanbrough, Assignment
