The Trail to Perdition

By Woodmanone copyright September/2011

There are no descriptive sexual scenes in this story.
Constructive comments, critiques, and emails are very welcome and are appreciated.
Thank you for taking the time to read and comment on my work.

Deputy U.S. Marshal Thomas Boone dismounted in front of the Marshal's office in Tucson Arizona. He raised both hands over his head, leaned backwards and stretched. He was 30 years old but felt much older. Too many outlaws, too many long trails, and too many gun fights, he thought. I can't make these long rides like I used to.

Boone turned to the horse that he'd led into town. Jenson Stoolie was tied face down across the saddle. Boone motioned to a 12 year old boy sitting on the porch in front of the store next to the Marshal's office.

"Run down and fetch the undertaker for me son," he requested and tossed the boy two bits. The youngster caught the coin and took off at a run.

"Who you got there Tom?" U.S. Marshal Ted McCoy asked as he walked out of his office.

"Jenson Stoolie. He said he'd just as soon die as to go back to Yuma Prison." Tom tied his horse to the hitching rail. "I obliged him."

"Put up a fight did he?" McCoy said not expecting an answer. "You know if he'd stopped at shooting that cowboy in the saloon he might have claimed self defense and got away with it." The Marshal shook his head. "But the damn fool had to go and steal a horse. That's what caused the circuit judge to put a warrant out on him."

"Jenson never was the smartest man," Tom replied. Looking down the street he said, "Here comes Sam now. Soon as I turn the body over to him I'm gonna get rid of this trail dust. See y'all in the morning."

Tom handed the reins of Jenson's horse to Sam Johnson, the undertaker. He mounted and rode to the saloon. First a whiskey and a beer and then a bath, he said to himself. Rubbing his hand across his face he thought, reckon a shave wouldn't do any harm either.

"That's a hard young man," Johnson said to the Marshal. "Not a speck of remorse in his eyes after killing a man."

"He didn't used to be that way Sam," McCoy replied. "Time was Tom would have talked to Jenson for hours trying to get him to come peaceful. Oh, he'd have still killed him if necessary but only if there was no other choice. Five years as a Deputy Marshal in this country will surely change a man."

Thomas Jethro Boone came to the Arizona territory as a boy of 17 with his father in 1866 just after the end of the Civil War. Tom worked with his father on their small cattle ranch for five years. The folks about Tucson often remarked that there was no doubt that the Boones were father and son. Both men were tall for the times at 6'1, had the same light brown mane of hair and piercing dark eyes. The older Boone, James, was the heavier of the two at 200 pounds but young Tom showed signs of filling out as he matured. The Boones were well liked and respected by the townspeople they came in contact with.

Early on a spring morning a band of renegades, thieves, and outlaws known as Comancheros made a raid on the Boone ranch. The elder Boone was killed and Tom was shot. The Comancheros, led by a man called Texas Jack Billings, stole all the live stock that could travel; they killed the three pigs and a dozen chickens that couldn't take the trail. Billings took anything and everything of value. They left Tom face down bleeding from the gunshot wound in his shoulder.

After the doctor patched Tom up, Justin Wren took him in and helped the boy recover. Wren said he was a retired lawman but most of the folks in Tucson said he'd been on the wrong side of the law for more years than he'd been on the right side. They said a few years earlier Wren might have been riding with the raiders. Of course they never said it to his face.

It took three months and lot of work for Tom's shoulder to heal up and get back to full strength. The first time that he could ride, Tom borrowed a horse from Justin went back to the ranch. He dug up the strongbox that his father had buried behind the house. Inside was twenty gold Double Eagles; a total of four hundred dollars. Tom took one last look around at what had been his home and rode into Tucson. He went to the gunsmith, bought a Remington .44 pistol converted to metal cartridges and a Winchester 73 repeating rifle. He also bought a good horse from the livery.

For two months Tom honed his skills with the Remington and the Winchester under the tutelage of the retired "lawman". Justin taught the youngster the things he'd learned in a lifetime of handling and using weapons. Finally Tom felt he was ready and he started on the cold trail of the Comancheros.

"I could go with you," Wren offered. At 5'8 he had to look up at Tom to see his face. Justin Wren looked more like someone's grandfather than a lawman. He was 40 years old, rotund and didn't look like he'd missed many meals. Justin's hair was steel gray and was just a fringe around his bald head. In spite of his looks, there was no doubt that the man could be a force of nature by the look in his eyes. Justin Wren was not a man that anyone crossed; not more than once that is.

"You could, but it's not your fight Justin," Tom replied. "I believe this is something I got to do myself."

"Trails near six months old boy. You'll never pick up their tracks."

"Don't have to follow them, just got to find out where they lit. Reckon they headed down Mexico way so I'll start my search toward the border." Tom shook hands with Justin, mounted and looked down.

"You're a good man Justin and a better friend. Thanks for your help."

"Y'all come back if you're able Tom. I've always got a place at my fire for ya."

Tom touched his hat in a salute and turned his horse south toward Mexico.

The journey south wasn't an easy one. The harsh desert, lack of water holes and the vast distances between settlements made for a hard trail. In addition Tom twice ran into bandits who thought the young man would be easy pickings. They found they had made a bad decision when they tried to rob him. Both times Tom left men dead behind him on the desert floor as he continued his quest to find Texas Jack and the Comancheros.

Tom wasn't having any success in finding the raiders. He'd been on the trail for better than a year and a half and was no closer to finding Texas Jack than he'd been when he started. Tom would ride into a small town and ask questions but got no information about Billings or his band. Oh everyone knew who he was talking about and said the Comancheros had passed through but none would offer any idea of what direction the gang took or how long it had been.

It was in the border town of Nogales that a senorita, seven or eight years older than Tom, working in a cantina told him why people wouldn't talk about Billings. "He is a dangerous man Niño," Theresa told him. "All the people are afraid that Texas Jack will come back and punish them if they help anyone trying to find him. But I will help you."

"Why would you help me? Aren't you afraid of him too?"

"Texas Jack and his men killed my husband and my son. What can he do to make my life worse?" Theresa asked. "I'm alone; I work as a whore in this miserable town just to get food and shelter. I'm a toy to be used by any vaquero with a few dollars and then thrown away. What can he do to make my life worse?"

"Why don't you leave?"

"Where would I go? I have no family left except an aunt and my sister down in Magdalena and no money to get to them. There is no work there and I'd just be another mouth to feed." Theresa looked down for a bit and added. "So I'll stay here until I get to old for the men to want me. After that, quien sabe...'Who knows?"

Theresa brought another plate of beef and beans to Tom and poured another glass of tequila for him. "Texas Jack came through here last month. One of the pendejos told me they were headed down to Santa Ana. Wanted me to go with them." Theresa touched Tom's shoulder as she sat down at the table. "Niño, that's four or five days hard ride through country that makes this place look like a garden. You will end up a pile of bleached bones in that desert. Please don't go?" Theresa pleaded. "There will be another time for Texas Jack. You are young, wait for your time."

Tom continued eating for a few minutes. He downed the tequila, threw two dollars on the table and stood. "Come Theresa, it's time for you to leave this damn place." At the questioning look on the woman's face Tom said, "I will take you to Tucson and we'll find you work and a place to live." He smiled and added, "Something different that what you're doing here."

Theresa had little worth packing and was soon ready to travel. Tom bought a horse for her. The animal wasn't a beauty but he felt it could make the hard journey back to Tucson. The landscape north of Nogales was an improvement. There were several waterholes and a few lush valleys like Green Valley. Tom and Theresa rode easy. They would start just before first light, ride until the heat of day, and make camp. Usually they were able to find a stand of Mesquite or Palo Verdes for shade. Around five or six they would continue until it got too dark to ride and they would camp again.

It was early morning of the fifth day when they rode into the clearing at Justin Wren's place. Tom stopped about a hundred feet from the ranch house.

"Hello the house," he yelled. "Like to ride in if we can."

"C'mon in youngster," Justin yelled back. "You sure ride noisy. Been waiting for you for the last twenty minutes." Justin stepped into the yard in front of the ranch house. When Tom and Theresa got closer, Justin's eyes opened wide.

"Who's your friend?" He asked Tom.

"I am Theresa Sanchez and I can speak for myself," she replied with a nod of her head.

Justin swept his hat off his head and nodded. "Sorry ma'am didn't mean no disrespect. I'm Justin Wren."

"You are the Senor Wren that taught Tom how to shoot. He has spoken of you often."

"Please step inside out of the heat Senora," Justin said and pointed to the door of the house.

"Thank you Senor, you are most kind," Theresa said.

"Ahem," Tom cleared his throat. "Can I come in too?" Tom asked with a smile.

"Oh, sure Tom. It's good to see you. Come in, both of you." Justin stood at the door waiting for Theresa and Tom to enter his house. He followed them in and put a pitcher of spring water on the table. After a few minutes he stood and said, "I'll take care of the horses."

"I'll go with you Justin." Turning to Theresa he said, "Why don't you wash the trail dust off and we'll be back in about 30 minutes."

Walking to the corral, leading Theresa's horse Justin thought about her. He gauged her height at 5'4 or so. Ain't many people shorter than me, he thought. Fine looking women though. Got that long black hair and those big dark eyes that make a man want to run around in circles. Course the fact that she's got a fine strong body don't hurt none neither. She's not a youngster but she's not as old as me, he continued his thoughts. From the look in her eyes, she's seen some hard times.

Justin was too short to look over the back of Theresa's horse as he curry combed the animal. He looked under the horse's neck at Tom. "Where'd you partner up with senora Sanchez?"

Tom smiled at his friend. Justin don't know it yet but if Theresa's of a mind she's already got him roped and hogtied, he thought.

"Met her down in Nogales. She was the only one in a year and a half that would talk about Texas Jack." Tom brushed his horse for several seconds. "Theresa is a friend; she kept me from makin a bad mistake."

Tom told Justin about the gang going south to Santa Ana and how Theresa had warned him about going after them. "Maybe I could've got there but I don't know ifin I'd a made it back or not. She told me there would be another time for Jack and his boys. Figured she was right, so we come home." Tom stuttered a little and added, "I mean back to your place."

"Home's close enough boy," Justin replied with a grin. "Glad you're back."

"There's something you ought to know about Theresa." She was a whore in Nogales. Didn't have much choice in the matter but I thought you should know."

"Why would that matter to me? She's your friend Tom and that's good enough for me."

"Friend I said, and that's all I meant," Tom told Justin. "I never partook of her services, but I did listen to her advice. Damn good advice it was too." He walked over to Justin. "I can see that you're taken with her. If something comes up between you two I just didn't want you to be surprised later on."

Justin looked at Tom for almost a minute. He smiled and said, "There's things in my past that I'm not real proud of either. Reckon everyone deserves a second chance to get things right. We'll say no more about this."

Yep, roped and hogtied, Tom thought as the two men returned to the house.

Theresa had washed up and changed out of the split riding skirt she'd been wearing. She had put on one of her two gingham dresses and brushed her hair. Tom and Justin could smell the bacon cooking and as they entered the kitchen and saw her cooking flapjacks on the griddle.

"Sit down please and I will get your coffee," Theresa said. "Breakfast will be ready very soon."

Near the end of breakfast, Tom sat back with the last piece of bacon. "I'll make a run into town in a few days if you like Theresa and we'll see what kind of work we can find for you. Justin and me know a few people that might be able to help." He stood and walked toward the door. "Guess I'll take a look at my horse. He looked like he was getting a sore hoof; might have a stone under his shoe."

"Niño is a good person," Theresa said to Justin watching Tom leave. "He was always respectful to me; he did not treat me like a puta, a whore." Turning to Justin she added, "Don't worry; I know he told you of my life. Niño told me of how you took him in when his father was killed. Of how you nursed him until he regained his strength. He also told me you taught him how to use that big pistola he carries; he is fortunate to have a friend like you Senor Wren."

"No need for that Senor business," Justin said with a smile. "Name's Justin if you care to use it." He scratched his chin. "As far as Tom, he needed a hand about then. Been there myself and someone helped me so I thought I'd just pay it back." Justin smiled again. "Maybe Tom will do the same one day and pay it back."

"He did 'pay it back' as you say when he helped me," Theresa replied.

Tom re-entered the kitchen about ten minutes later and sat down. "Justin I had a thought just now."

"Did it hurt Tom?" Justin teased with a big laugh.

Tom grinned. "I've about used up the money from Pa's strongbox and I can't keep living off you. Reckon I need to find work for myself as well as Theresa."

"Got any ideas?"

"I thought I might talk to the stage line; get a job as a guard. Or maybe ride guard for the payroll shipments to the mines. No need to do anything real quick. I want to rest up after that ride from Nogales."

"If it would be no problem, I would also like rest," Theresa said. "When you go to town to see about work I could go with you."

"I wouldn't mind some company for a few days," Justin said. "Y'all rest as long as need be."

Tom, and Theresa, 'rested' for a week. During that time Theresa took over the cooking duties and kept the ranch house clean.

Saddling the horses as he and Theresa prepared to go into town, Tom said, "Sure gonna miss your cookin Theresa. I ain't ate that good in a long time." He fingered his clean shirt. "Nice having my clothes cleaned and pressed too. Thank you."

"I'll be goin with you," Justin said leading his horse out of the barn. "Got some business to take care of. Gonna need your help."

"Sure, be happy to give you a hand. What business you need help with?"

"Going to see the Justice of the Peace; need you to be my best man." Justin laughed at the surprised look on Tom's face. He walked over and took Theresa's hand. "Me and Theresa have got real used to each other this week and want to make it permanent like."

Tom looked first at Justin and then at Theresa. "Si Niño, it is true. This is the first home I've had in many years; I don't want to leave." She smiled and touched Justin's cheek. "And Justin will be a good husband."

"Well I'll be danged," Tom exclaimed. "I was right the day we got back." Justine raised his eyes brows with a puzzled look. "Said the day you met Theresa that if she wanted you that you were already roped and hogtied."

Theresa laughed and hugged Justin. With a smile on this face Justin said, "I reckon you were right youngster."

The three road into Tucson and went to the county court house. Justine gave the county recorder two dollars and got a marriage license. While Justin and Theresa were busy at the court house, Tom tracked down the Justice of the Peace. Tom took him to the hotel to meet the happy couple where the wedding ceremony took place.

Leland Chambers, the owner of the hotel and Justin's good friend, walked Theresa down a hastily made aisle to where Justin and Tom waited. Tom thought he was going to have to put a lead rope around his neck to hold Justin in one place because he was so nervous.

Chambers had a special wedding supper prepared for the newlyweds and as a wedding present gave them the best room in the hotel for the night. Tom went to a boarding house for the evening. He was sitting on the porch of the hotel the next morning waiting for the newly married couple to make an appearance.

Tom was young but he had better sense than to go knock on their door. I'll just wait a spell, Tom thought. Got nothin pressing anyway.

Sheriff Will Jenkins stopped to talk to Tom on his morning rounds. "Heard Justin and that lady you brought home with you got hitched yesterday. Sorta quick wasn't it?" Jenkins saw the hard look that came in Tom's eyes. "No disrespect meant Tom; but you only been back about a week or so."

Tom relaxed and let a smile grow across his face. "Sometimes it just happens that way Sheriff. I'm no expert bout things like that but I saw the look on Justin's face when he first saw Theresa." Tom chuckled, "Fact is I wondered what took them so long cause Theresa had the same look about her."

"You gonna work the ranch with Justin?"

"Nope, done my share of workin with cattle," Tom answered and smile. "Think I've seen all the butt ends of steers that I care to. I'll look around for something else to work at."

"If you don't mind the work, I heard that John Seager is lookin for men to ride guard for his payroll shipments to the mines. Could be easy work."

"Until someone tries to steal the payroll," Tom replied. "Then things could get rite interesting and you'd earn your wages right quick."

"Yep, there is that possibility. Guess that's why the pay is pretty good." Jenkins gave Tom a small grin. "But I heard your pretty good with that hog leg and can take care of yourself."

"Better than most, well better than the ones I've run into so far." Tom leaned back in his chair. "Being good with a sidearm don't matter if there's someone shooting at you from two hundred yards." Tom looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "John Seager you say? Suppose I could talk to the man."

"He's over to the Molly's Cafe having breakfast."

Tom went into the hotel and left a message with the desk clerk for Justin and Theresa. He walked the fifty yards to the cafe and stepped inside. At a table against the back wall was a man that had to be John Seager. He was wearing a black frock coat, stripped gray pants and a shirt with a button on collar with a string tie. If it wasn't' for his size and his hands people would think he was a merchant or drummer.