Chasing the Texas Wind Read online

  “How could anyone not like you?” Maeve laughed. “I liked you from the moment I saw you juggling that silly whiskey sour at my bar. In a room full of stuffy, powerful snobs there you were, a total stranger, an outsider, making them all explode into cheers and laughter. And you didn’t let me or them dig out a thing about you the whole evening. Even when I thought you drank I thought you had a good reason for it, after all you’d been through, and you always handled yourself so cleverly, so wonderfully.”

  “You liked me from the start?” Ham grunted. “You certainly hid it well.”

  “I hoped you’d refuse me when I told you about the contract,” Maeve said. “Because I knew it would be humiliating for you and I dreaded seeing that happen. You were poor, you were alone, you were despised, but you were so fine. So very fine.”

  “I was lost the first time you sang,” Ham said softly. “There was nobody else there, just me and you with that harp in your lap, nobody else in all the world. I was trying to figure out how to pay for tickets to all your concerts for the rest of my life.”

  Maeve laughed. “I never sang at the cantina,” she said. “It’s been so long since I’ve sung at all.”

  “Sing for me now,” Ham invited. “Just for me, my Irish Lark. There’s no more Vienta. Just you and me. No one else in the world.”

  Maeve obliged, but Ham couldn’t let her finish the song. And she didn’t mind.

  “I’m looking for the Jessup place,” the giant man said from his position astride the giant horse. “Know where I can find it?”

  “Jessup place?” The man looked far up at the dusty rider and scratched his chin. “Don’t know anybody named Jessup that lives around here. Oh, wait, you mean Palacio Del Oro. Maeve Collinswood’s place. I guess that’s her husband’s name. Sure. Head out east --”

  The man finished his directions. The horseman tipped his black felt hat and adjusted the strap of a fine new rifle over his massive shoulders, a shiny black strap with silver conchos. He resettled the bundle he carried on his saddle and rode on.

  Day Nine

  “It’ll be best if you steer clear of Señor Jessup, Consuela,” Maeve said confidentially to the maid the next morning when she arrived and they chatted together in the morning room. “I’m sorry about what happened, but I had to make that tour and all sorts of things went wrong. You have no idea the delays, the problems. I’m so glad to be back, and glad to have you back.” she smiled.

  “Gracias, Señora,” Consuela said with a knowing smile. “I know how it is with you and Señor Jessup. I’ll be very careful around him. Señor Grover, he was very worried about you. I tried to keep in touch with him, just to try to get news about you, but that was what got Señor Jessup so angry.”

  “Yes, Señor Jessup is very unreasonable about Mr. Grover,” Maeve sighed. “And now that he’s had that injury, he’s taken over the den, because he can’t go upstairs, of course, but it’s very difficult. I’d like to speak with Señor Grover, but Señor Jessup won’t let me out of his sight for more than a few minutes. He was upset about my being gone so long. I suppose he thinks I’ll disappear again. I feel a bit sorry for him, because he really did suffer quite a wreck with that carriage overturning, but it’s so unpleasant to have to be with him constantly. He won’t have a nurse hired, and people will talk if they think I’m not being dutiful and putting up with him. I don’t know how to meet Señor Grover if I can’t leave the house without throwing the invalid into an uproar.”

  “I was told he drinks more than ever, Señora?” Consuela asked in a low voice.

  “Oh, it’s dreadful,” Maeve commiserated. “I’m just glad he can’t get off the sofa. I’m afraid he might become violent again if he gets his strength back. Now he just passes out and sleeps for hours at a time, thank goodness.”

  “There, Señora,” Consuela said triumphantly. “That is the answer. We will wait until he is good and drunk, and dead asleep, then I will go for Señor Grover. You can talk to him here, and Señor Jessup will never know.”

  “Oh, Consuela, how clever you are,” Maeve said. “What a good plan. Tell Señor Grover I have some papers I took from Señor Jessup that seem to be important, and that talk about him. I don’t understand them at all, but I think Señor Jessup was trying to make up false charges to get Señor Grover in trouble.”

  “I will go now to Señor Grover and tell him this,” Consuela said, “and then he will be ready to come quickly as soon as Señor Jessup sleeps. Señor Grover, he asks and asks about papers. It will be good if we give him what he wants. Perhaps he can help you get rid of Señor Jessup, and make you free again.”

  Maeve smiled wearily, and Consuela went out. Maeve’s expression changed, hardened into anger, and she left the morning room, made sure Consuela had left the house, and went into the den.

  “How dare she say those things about my husband?” Maeve exclaimed as she came over to Ham and sat beside him on the couch. He set aside the Bible he was reading.

  “She said them because you told her to,” Ham said reasonably, hugging her. “The wheels should start turning pretty quickly now.

  “I can’t wait for this to be over,” Maeve sighed. “I don’t want to see or speak to Nathaniel Grover ever again. I can’t believe I trusted him.”

  “You have to talk to him one more time,” Ham commented. “And then I’ll take it from there.”

  “Ham, I don’t like this,” Maeve protested. “Do you have to do it?”

  “I explained all that last night,” Ham said. “I don’t want to do it either. Believe it or not, I am a timid soul. Grover has weaseled out of so many things over so many years I will have to nail him to the wall to make sure he doesn’t slip away again. I am literally the only person who knows the truth about him, and I expect he knows it now, and that scares me. Pray hard, Maeve.”

  “I’m so sorry for all you had to go through, Maeve,” Grover said, patting her hand as she handed him a cup of tea in the morning room. “I lost touch with Olivera. I didn’t know how to find you. It’s so dangerous in Mexico right now. I’m just glad you’re safe and it’s all over. No more spying for you.”

  “Yes,” Maeve replied. “I was so lucky that old man died in Chollo while I was there and I could pretend he was my father and escape by having his funeral.”

  “Is that what happened?” Grover asked airily.

  “I don’t want to bore you with all the details,” Maeve shrugged. “I certainly didn’t find out any new information. I believe you were right, and Chaco has dried up as a lead. I’m happy to be home. I just wish Hamilton weren’t so impossible.”

  “How did you say he got hurt again?” Grover demanded.

  “You must have heard about the wreck in the papers,” Maeve said. “It was in the bar district. Apparently a heavy cart smashed into his carriage. He could have been killed. I can’t help feeling a little sorry for him. Did you know he has an artificial leg, Mr. Grover? It seems so silly, but I had no idea. And now it’s smashed, and he doesn’t know when he’ll get a new one fitted, and he drinks, and he curses, and I wish it would end somehow.”

  “Huh,” Grover said. “You want me to try to talk to him?”

  “He’s completely passed out, just now,” Maeve replied. “Please, let’s enjoy the peace. Besides, I found something I wanted to show you. He litters up the den with those papers of his from his work, just covers the floor with them. He calls them his puzzles.”

  “Yes, I know all about that,” Grover said impatiently. “Waste paper, mostly, from what I hear. If Jessup ever had a brilliant mind he’s soaked it in alcohol and it’s pickled now.”

  “Well, the maids finally cleared up the rubbish while he was in the hospital,” Maeve explained, “and they left it for me to look over so nothing valuable would be thrown away. There’s a page that mentions you, Mr. Grover.”

  “Me?” Grover echoed. “Really? Interesting.”

  “Would you like to see it?” Maeve asked.

  “Oh, I suppose,” Grover shru
gged. “Can’t imagine anything Jessup says about me would be important or even true, but I might as well have a look at it.”

  Maeve opened a linen press in the corner and took out a rumpled sheet of paper. “I put it here so Hamilton wouldn’t find it,” Maeve explained. “Not that he gets around much, but he did rifle my desk and things in my study while I was gone.”

  “I told you you’d regret picking him for this job,” Grover said.

  “I had no idea,” Maeve groaned. “I thought he would at least pretend to be a gentleman. Anything important there? I confess I didn’t understand a word of it. I just saw your name and I thought I should show it to you.”

  Grover stared at the paper. “Look here, Maeve, I can’t sit by and see you suffer with this drunken cripple anymore. I’ll go in and shake him awake and make him understand he’s got to behave himself. As for this --” He crumpled the sheet up and threw it in the fireplace. “He’s in the den, is he? I’ll just pop in and straighten him out for you.”

  “Well, I have so many letters to write,” Maeve sighed, “I’d better get back to them.”

  “Certainly, Maeve,” Grover grinned. “I can find my own way out.”

  Grover poked his head into the study. The room was almost completely dark, all the curtains drawn, no lamp or candle burning. Someone stirred restlessly on the couch, blankets heaving.

  “Maeve?” Ham’s voice called out, quavering, cracked. “Maeve, where are you?”

  Maeve bent over her writing desk. Suddenly a hand slid over her mouth, a thick, powerful arm pinned her against her chair, and a knife appeared in front of her eyes.

  “Don’t you remember, my sweet Vienta, that I promised to keep an eye on you down in Avecita?” Grover purred in her ear. “I know everything that happened down there. I know Jessup helped you rescue that young Texan buck. Too bad he smashed up his leg and himself. He seems quite helpless in the den. I’m not worried about Cassius. And I saw Titus patrolling outside. So we won’t be interrupted as long as we’re quiet.” Maeve struggled and they slid to the floor together, but she couldn’t manage to make a noise.

  “A carriage accident,” Grover continued. “Fine story for other people, but you already used it to explain Chaco’s having a little fun with you, on my orders, of course. I can’t believe he left you walking. And now he’s gone and gotten himself captured by your Texan friends. Have they stolen some of my guns? And Chaco paid me such a nice amount for them. Good thing I got the money in advance of delivery to Ampudia.”

  Maeve bit his hand. He cursed and lost his grip on her. Maeve scuttled clear of him as a loud report sounded and Grover leaped into the air, shrieking curses. A giant hand seemed to appear out of nowhere and grabbed Grover by the hair. Another hand got hold of his knife hand and literally crushed it. Zachary Duvall threw him down on the floor and hog-tied him in about six seconds.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Grover shrieked. “Don’t you know I’ve been shot?”

  “Oh, have you?” Zachary sneered. “Where are you hurt?” and he kicked Grover in the shoulder where the bullet had lodged. Grover screamed and spewed curses.

  Ham, sprinting on two good legs, came out of the same hidden panel in the study wall that Zachary had used and gathered Maeve up in his arms.

  “You were absolutely right, my love, that was a stupid plan,” Ham admitted. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Maeve said shakily. “Thank goodness Zachary heard Grover come in here.”

  “And thank goodness this hidey-hole is a passage between these two rooms,” Zachary added. “My baby ears. Can’t we gag him and stop all that language?”

  “Gladly,” Ham agreed, and applied his handkerchief to Grover’s mouth. “Zachary Duvall, I owe you and your Hawken a lot. Thanks.”

  “Well, Mrs. Jessup was the one who got it back for me. I owed her one. I told you my head was messed up from that whole coffin episode,” Zachary shrugged. “But one thing I finally remembered. When Chaco was laying into me with the whip and talking about torturing Dan he said, ‘My boss cut off all his fingers.’ I finally realized we had somebody else in this to worry about. I grabbed Obed and high-tailed it home. While he fixed up your leg I looked over your puzzle in the barn and I saw you’d figured out this arms dealer angle but you hadn’t realized it wasn’t Chaco who cut off people’s fingers. I didn’t want anybody else’s fingers getting cut off, so I figured I’d better come and tell you, and bring your leg in case you needed to run. And I think you had a stupid plan too, but we got him, so I guess the Lord can even bless stupid people if their hearts are right.”

  “It just never occurred to me he’d go after Maeve,” Ham said, shaking his head and holding her very tightly. “God forgive me.”

  “The good news is, now that he’s confessed to dealing arms to Mexico and tried to kill a famous lady like Maeve Collinswood, all witnessed by a bona fides Texas Ranger, namely me,” Zachary said with a grin, “I’ll go report to the Rangers here in Rio Grande City,” Zachary said. “And they’ll get your carpet cleaned. It shouldn’t be long.”

  “I’ll keep a watch on Mr. Grover, sir,” Titus said as Cassius ushered him into the study, folding his arms and standing over the bound man.

  “Thanks, Titus,” Ham grinned, and he and Zachary and Maeve left the room together.

  “You’re not hurt, are you, Zachary?” Maeve demanded, noticing Zachary taking out a handkerchief and applying it to his hand.

  “Naw, I’m fine,” Zachary scoffed. “But I got a little nick on my finger here, ma’am, and if you could kiss it and make it better ...”

  Maeve jumped up, flung her arms around Zachary’s neck, and kissed him soundly. Zachary blushed scarlet and lowered her back down to the floor.

  “All better now?” Ham laughed.

  “Yes, sir,” Zachary said in confusion. “I’ll be going now.” Maeve left them to change out of her dress, torn in her struggle with Grover.

  Someone set up a shouting out on the front lawn and Ham stopped dead.

  “That’s – that’s Tad Cummings,” Ham said. “Cassius, let him in. He’s yelling something about Greg Stevens.”

  Ham grabbed Tad by the shoulders as the younger man burst into the entrance hall. “Tad, get hold of yourself.”

  Tad Cummings looked a picture of exhaustion and terror, and had obviously been drinking. “Ham, Greg Stevens is dead,” he blurted out. “Some Texas Rangers found him outside of town in a gully. He was -- There were only pieces of him, Ham – Someone cut him up. He was identified by his ring – that’s – they – his fingers weren’t – on his hands – !” Tad collapsed, sobbing.

  Ham and Zachary looked at each other, and Zachary departed without a word. Tad continued as Ham guided him to the sofa in the den. “Greg stayed later at work than I did. He said there was some file he needed to look at, some nonsense about holes. He was being so cranky I left early. Say, Ham, what’s been happening to you? Why’d you disappear? And what the blazes do you mean being married to Maeve Collinswood and not telling anybody? I had to sneak a look at your personnel file to find out where you lived, since the Marlboro Club had no forwarding address.”

  “Mr. Cummings, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Maeve said with a sweet smile, sweeping into the room in a dazzling blue and gold gown. “Hamilton’s told me so much about you.”

  “Sewing circle!” Tad squalled, bolting up and staring at Maeve. “Baking day?”

  “Mr. Cummings, can you imagine the gossip if people found out poor Hamilton was married to me?” Maeve said. “He’d be pestered from morning to night and never get any work done. And I’m sure you clerks do such a lot of important work.”

  “Clerks,” Tad repeated, finally seeming to come to some semblance of sanity. “Oh, yes, clerks. That’s us, just humble clerks.”

  “I’ll have Cassius bring you some late luncheon,” Maeve said, tucking her arm in his and leading him over to Cassius, who took charge of him. “And we’ll chat more later, all r
ight?”

  Tad went away with Cassius, staring over his shoulder at Maeve. “Now we know why Grover was so anxious to get in here,” Ham said when they were alone. “God give poor Greg peace. I wish he’d kept his hands off my files. He must have been trying to work on my ‘Holes where pieces should be’ file and Grover caught him with it.”

  “If Zachary doesn’t hurry and get that monster out of my study--” Maeve said through gritted teeth.

  “Just imagine what God has in store for him,” Ham said. “Just say, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord,’ with the proper emphasis and it helps.”

  “Of course,” Maeve sighed, leaning against Ham.

  “Thanks for covering for me with Tad,” Ham said. “I never knew what to say to people when they noticed the ring.”

  “You wore that ring all the time?” Maeve asked. “I would have thought you would hate to wear it when you didn’t have to.”

  “I did, but I hated taking it off more,” Ham murmured. Maeve kissed him and they embraced for a long time. They joined Tad in the dining room and afterward Maeve got her harp and sang for Tad. He went away muttering something about a ‘lucky dog.’

  The Battle of Monterrey lasted from September twenty-first to September twenty-third, 1846. Hamilton Jessup, his wife Maeve, and Zachary Duvall returned to the Duvall spread and welcomed the returning soldiers, most of whom were Texas Rangers full of tales of blowing Mexicans out the windows of buildings and taking the hills outside the city. Ham listened to them all, just a little wistfully, but found great comfort in loving his wife, his new son Zachary Daniel, and in being able to participate in the victory dance held two days after the forces had returned. They had to hold the event in the big cotton barn where Ham had worked his last puzzle and it was still so packed they could barely move around the refreshment table. Ham also had the satisfaction of seeing Zachary Duvall and his new wife, Angelita, lead out on the dance floor.