Catch a Shooting Star jd edit 03 12 2012 html (35 page)

“Well,” Travis admitted.  “I guess I got lucky.”

“That, you did,” Tito told him as he reached for his rolling papers and tobacco, his mind deep in thought.  While his hands worked at making another cigarette, he narrowed his eyes toward Travis and asked, “How did you get that lucky?”

“Well,” Travis answered with confidence and a wink to his friend.  “A man will tell anything to a woman that he adores if he’s drunk enough.  And that woman will tell anything to anyone who gives her attention if that other fool makes her mad.  Now, don’t you get jealous, Savannah.  I only used her to get information.”

Savannah cocked her head in mock anger as she glared at him with eyes that did not reflect any animosity towards him as she pretended to complain, “You touch that woman again and I’ll shoot so many holes in you…”

“You can shoot?” Tito asked, changing the subject.

“She sure can,” Travis announced proudly.  “Why, she can shoot the whiskers off a black cat on a moonless a night.”

Everyone laughed at his description of her prowess with a pistol but their moods reverted to serious when Tito suddenly announced, “All those people were used as a sacrifice so that Fernandez could get richer.”

Feeling sudden and horrible remorse, Savannah cast her eyes to the ground and groaned inwardly, for she had partaken in those very riches when her husband had paid her father’s debts and then had used that same money to buy her the trousseau which she had worn while she had stayed at Casa de Flores, which she now realized was a product of those profits as well.  She sighed sadly and said as if to herself, “Those poor, poor people.  All of them died in vain.”

“Now, don’t you go feeling like you’re responsible for his actions,” Tito admonished her as if reading her disturbing thoughts.  “He was doing that long before he met you and he’ll continue to until he is dead and buried.”

“Not if I have anything to do about it,” Travis growled as he stuck a stick into the flames and watched the flashes of ashes escape to Heaven.  “If I have my way, he will be brought to justice and their families will have a chance to see him hanged.”

Savannah watched him rise to his feet and walk into the darkness, his black mood showing through the furrows on his handsome his face.  In her heart, she knew that he wanted desperately to see that very event in order to make his own loss more bearable.  She let him stew in his misery while her own heart reflected his pain with that which she had lost at the hands of her husband. 

In an instant, she realized why he was so adamant about taking Diego back to Texas to stand trial.  To kill the villain on the spot would be selfish, not to mention merciful toward the murderer.  But to make him suffer through humiliation and an eventual public death was a more deserving punishment for the man who had ruined so many lives.  With a sigh of resolution, she vowed that she would be there to see him suffer along with the countless families who would be there seeking satisfaction for his wrong doing.

“Yep,” Tito’s voice broke through her thoughts.  “I think I’ll head for town.  It seems that you two need some time alone to work things out in your heads.  Besides, you haven’t had any privacy while I’ve been hangin’ around.”

Savannah smiled up at him as he looked down at her with obvious concern and growing friendship, but she was taken by surprise by his announcement that he would leave them.  But his explanation was sufficient for her to agree with him.  She rose and smiled at the hulk of a man who took her into his massive arms and hugged her as if she were his own child and she heard him say, “Now, you take care of yourself, Baby Girl.  I know you can shoot, but your husband and his men are treacherous creatures.”

“I know,” she agreed with a solemn expression.  “You do the same.  I hope to see you tomorrow when it is all over with.”

“Yep,” he said with a pat to her shoulder before he left her standing alone beside the fire. 

Suddenly feeling cold and helpless, she shivered and hugged her arms to herself as she called to the retreating figure, “It was a pleasure traveling with you, Tito.”

He waved his large hand in the air and called back to her without looking back, “The pleasure was all mine!”  He stepped to his horse and began to saddle it as the moon filled the sky with an ominous glow.

When Travis returned to the firelight, he saw that Tito was leading his pack horse toward his buckskin and he called to his friend, “Where are you going?” 

As his friend neared the horse that he was about to mount, Tito smiled at him and said, “I thought I’d go into town and see if I can find that little filly that you talked to and get some information for myself.”

Travis nodded and leaned his arm on the buckskin’s neck as he said, “Her name is Maria.  She works at the little cantina on the edge of town called El Burro Oro.”

As he watched his friend check the cinch on the saddle, he recalled his evening with the luscious Maria.  She was a sultry one, that Maria, one whom, no doubt, many a man had lost his heart to and his life for.  She was long legged, wide-hipped and well-endowed in the bosom area and she wasn’t afraid to pit man against man in order to win the victor.  But that night, when he had bought her a drink and, by chance, had learned that she was the mistress of Diego Fernandez and was just itching to make that man jealous of her advances toward any stranger who sauntered into the bar, he knew that he’d found the one thing that he was looking for: a scorned woman who would spill the beans on her boyfriend just to satisfy her need for revenge for some slight offense that the man had done to her.  He plied her with wine and whisky until she slurred her words and hung on him like a saddle to a bucking bronco and he’d gleaned the information out of her and then left her to wallow in her resentment toward the man in question while he’d made his way back to the woman that he loved.   

“Thanks, Son,” Tito said warmly to the man who he felt was truly a son to him. “You two take care of each other.”

“We will, and you take care of yourself, too, you old codger,” Travis told him with a clap on the older man’s back as Tito lifted his large frame into the saddle. 

The buckskin groaned with his weight and he patted its neck as he said to the younger man, “You can count on it!”

Travis watched as Tito chuckled and wheeled the horse toward town and with a wave of his hand, he said to the couple that he left behind, “You keep that woman happy ‘cause if your woman ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy!”

Travis laughed to himself as his friend was swallowed up by the darkness and he felt Savannah’s arm slip around his waist.  He hugged her to his body and kissed the top of her head as he whispered, “She’ll be happy.  You can count on that.”   

Chapter Nineteen

Sunrise brought on a flurry of apprehension for Savannah as she prepared breakfast with stiff, unsure hands.  Many fears tumbled around inside her head and heart, making her worry whether or not they would succeed when they tried to rescue her son and apprehend her husband.  She worried about Travis getting hurt or killed in the process.  But what tore at her mind the most was that if they did not succeed and Travis was killed, would Diego have her taken prisoner again or would he kill her or would he force her to live in a drugged state in the confines of her room again the way he had before?  Whatever the outcome, if success was not in their favor, she would never see her baby again.  Not only would she lose Travis, her first and only true love, she would lose her son and possibly, her own life.  She wondered if it was worth the risk to end up with naught.  Yes, she told herself defiantly.  She would win this time!  Don Diego Fernandez has ruled long enough.  It was high time that he was brought down to the reptile that he is—a snake to be scorned, stepped on and smeared into the dirt.  And it was time for her to get what she wanted, what she deserved.

With that decision, she finished breakfast with proud precision.  If this was their last meal together, she would make it the best that Travis had ever tasted.  But, if it was to be their victory feast, it would be the most delectable delight that they had ever shared, besides their intimate union. 

She blushed at the thought and then called the man whom she wanted to share many more of those moments with to breakfast.  They ate in silence, neither of them in the mood for talking and when it was devoured and the dishes were done, they cuddled beside the dying fire.

Savannah sensed the tension that coursed through Travis as he held her.  She looked up at his face and saw that he was deep in thought, probably planning his capture of the man who had murdered the only woman whom he had loved until he had found the one who clung to him now.   Every once in a while, she would lay a hand on his arm to give him heartfelt reassurance that she would always be beside him and he would smile down at her, but his mind still drifted on that cloud of vengeful preparation that seemed to have overcome him. 

They wiled away the day, not speaking much but silently conveying to each other that they would always be together, until late afternoon when they packed up and left their camp behind.  They headed eastward to the little village where Savannah had lived and where her husband would meet his fate.  As they rode side-by-side, they went over the plan once more.

It had changed slightly, which put fear into Travis’ heart at the thought of Savannah going into the hacienda where she used to live instead of the little cottage on the edge of town. He had learned from Maria that the boy was now living in his old nursery at his father’s house and now, Savannah would be risking her life by sneaking in to get her child.  He watched her nod as if the new plan caused no fear in her and somehow, he knew that she would be careful.   

When nothing was left to say but their unspoken love for each other, Travis took the mare’s reins into his hand and pulled the horse closer to his as he claimed Savannah’s lips for what could be the last time.  After a long moment of looking into her eyes, he nudged the Palomino forward and they rode single file for the rest of the trip, each lost in their own anxious thoughts about the impending events.

In less than two hours, they made it to the edge of town.  Savannah pulled the shawl that she had knotted around her neck and her heart fluttered with apprehension.  The woven scarf barely covered her tightly twisted raven hair but it would disguise her somewhat memorable features enough to get her into the house and out again without much notice from the servants.  She shifted the hand-embroidered peasant blouse that Travis had bought for her to wear for this occasion, hoping that the clothes that she wore would deter any suspicion when she slipped into the house that she had called home long ago.  With that blouse and the matching linen skirt, she looked just like a Mexican woman who would go unnoticed when she slipped back out to the stables with her son in her arms. 

Her stomach fluttered in anxious spasms when they neared the large stucco house that she had left more than two years ago.  She took a deep breath to settle her nerves and glanced at Travis for reassurance.  He smiled and winked, the deep brown of his eyes reflecting his support for her task.  They walked their horses past the house and surveyed the layout in a nonchalant manner then circled around to tie them behind a small store across the street, hoping that anyone who had seen them would surmise that they were just a couple who were passing through town. 

One more wink for good luck and Travis left Savannah to make her way into the house alone.  She crossed the street carrying a blanket full of clothes.  She would convince the guard that they belonged to the inhabitants and that she had cleaned them and was returning them to the house.  She walked with trembling knees to the guard and announced herself as the washwoman.  To her surprise, she was allowed to enter the courtyard without question.  She hurried through the courtyard, looking around to make sure that she was not noticed and then she pushed open the heavy wooden door that opened to the house.  As she stole through the tiled hallway toward the nursery, her heart pumped with excitement and fear. 

Within a few steps of her son’s door, she heard what she believed to be his voice, his lovely laugh.  Her heart lurched into her throat as the time had finally come for her to take possession of what was hers.  She started to walk into the room to claim her son but she stopped suddenly when she heard another woman’s voice inside.

A pang of jealousy shot through her heart as she heard the woman talk to her son with loving words and when she realized that the voice belonged to Maria, she became filled with anger and resentment.  The woman inside her son’s room, the woman who had been kept from her from her son while she was drugged and debilitated was talking to the boy as if she was his mother. 

She held her breath, waiting until Maria emerged into the hallway where she waited to avenge the wrong that the woman had done to her.  Finally, her chance came when Maria stepped through the door as she called back to the boy in Spanish, “Diego, you play with your toys while I go and get your supper.”

Without thinking whether or not her son would see, Savannah took Maria’s collar into her fists and slammed her against the wall of the hall.  In an instant, the shawl that she wore was transferred to Maria’s neck and she stood, angrily twisting the woven garment around the woman’s neck while Maria struggled to remove it and overcome her assailant.  The flailing woman struck Savannah with her fist and sent her crashing into the opposite wall of the hallway.  But Savannah was not deterred by the other woman’s determination to win this battle.  With a growl of hatred, she threw herself back into Maria’s body and sent her crashing into the door jamb where she twisted the scarf with more strength than she thought she could possibly possess.  Finally, she wrenched her fists even tighter against Maria’s neck as she watched the woman slowly lose consciousness and slip to the floor at her feet.  Savannah gasped at her own bravery and let the shawl slide from the Mexican woman’s neck while Maria slumped into a heap below her.  Quickly, thankful that she had not killed her, Savannah dragged the unconscious woman into an empty room and then ran to find her son.