Chapter Six

Deacon motioned the man down from his horse. "Come inside, man, have some breakfast."

"Thank you, señor."

Gideon ambled toward the stables with the man's horse and Deacon escorted Arrende's messenger into the house. He nodded toward a chair at the table. "Have a seat, and when you catch your breath, tell me your name?"

"Juan, señor."

"All right, Juan. I know you rode all night and you're tuckered out but do you know what happened to señorita Madrid? Did the Apache attack El Vaquero?"

"Oh, no, señor. Don Erasmos posts guards everywhere. No one takes him by surprise."

Carlita set a pitcher of water on the table and handed a glass to Juan. "Breakfast be right out, Deacon.

He nodded in her direction but kept his focus on the weary guest. "But the note says she's been kidnapped."

"Si. Juan was there."

"You were with her and lived to tell about it?"

He nodded. "You know the Apache hate Mexicans. When they surround us, I make my peace with God."

Battling impatience, Deacon leaned in. "Take your time but tell me what you remember."

"The señorita, she is a stubborn one. Don Erasmos ask her to stay at the hacienda because of trouble with the Apache, but she has other plans. She go with me, Carlos and Bexar to drive the cattle across the river. Bexar they kill on the other side and ride their horses into the river to circle the señorita, me and Carlos." Juan hung his head. "She save me and Carlos but we cannot do the same for her."

"Then what happened?"

"I am very scared but know some of their words. I hear the leader say someone has died at their camp and she must come with them. I think the person who die very important."

"What does that have to do with Maddie?" Deacon felt his brow crease. "Oh, wait… don't tell me you believe that ghost-chasing shit?"

"Si, I do, señor."

Deacon shook his head. "It's nonsense, and what's more, how would the Apache know Maddie can…."

"Speak to the dead? Everyone for miles knows her madre could. Why wouldn't the Apache think the same of her?" Juan dropped his chin and lowered his voice. "Maybe they take her to make the spirit leave, señor."

"What in hell does that mean?"

Juan's eyes met his. "In the ways of afterlife and ghosts, the Apache is not so unlike the Mexican."

"Let's cut to the chase, Juan."

His brow buckled.

"You don't understand? All right, let's try again." Deacon rose from the table and paced in front of the kitchen window. "You think someone important died and that's why they kidnapped señorita Madrid?"

The man nodded.

"You think they took her because they believe she can speak to the dead?"

"She can, señor; Juan has seen this with his own eyes."

Deacon drew up short. "Might be she speaks to them; that doesn't mean they hear her. Besides, I don't want to hear about whatever it is you think you saw in the past. I want to know more about this spirit chaser bullshit."

"Ask, señor, and I will try to explain."

"I'm going to assume for the moment," he rolled his eyes, "that ghost chasers do exactly that… chase away the dead?"

"Si."

"Don't the Apache have powerful shamans to…dance and chant or whatever they do to scare off a dead person? I mean, why would they kidnap someone of Spanish descent to chase away their dead spirits? You said yourself, they hate Mexicans."

"They do señor Bannister." The man paused. "Perhaps their shaman is powerless against this ghost. The Apache will use every means to make certain," another pause, "the dead stay dead."

Deacon ran his hands through the hair near his temples and groaned. "I don't want to talk anymore about spirit chasers, dead people and ghosts." Turning toward the man he asked, "Let's say you understood most of their talk. And we know they took her. What will they do to her if she fails in this ill-fated pursuit?"

Juan took his time before answering. "The Apache fear the dead above all. If they believe the spirit has not gone on his long journey, they will do everything in their power to chase him off. As for what will happen to señorita Madrid if she fails, I do not know señor Bannister."

"Jesus. I have another question: why didn't they kill you and Carlos?"

"They want to; I see it in their eyes. They war with the Mexican for years." Juan took a hard swallow and continued. "The señorita say she will go with them only if they let us go. 'If you kill my men,' she say, 'I will not help you.'" He gave a visible shudder. "I think they will kill us anyway but the leader think about her words and tell the others to let us go."

"That's it? And then they rode off with her?"

"Si, señor Bannister. There was nothing we could do."

Deacon cursed under his breath. "How will we find her now?"

"I see the leader one time when I ride out from the Fort to search for Apache."

Hope rose like a sail in his heart. "You scouted for the military at Fort Stanton?"

"Si, who better to know the land?"

"Did you see any of their villages—keeping in mind the Apache move camps often?"

"I see a village a year ago. It is possible the señorita is there. But if the ghost die anywhere near their camp, they will flee. Like I said, they fear the dead."

"Then we have to hope this person, whoever it is, didn't die in the village you saw."

"I will go with you, señor Bannister."

Carlita set down a platter of corn tortillas with bean paste as Deacon eased into a chair across from Juan. "Best if you draw me a map. The Apache see a Mex, they'll shoot first, won't bother asking questions."

Straight, white teeth shone behind his smile. "The señorita is Mexican."

He scratched the stubble on his chin. "That she is, Juan, but for some reason they decided to overlook that." An image of Madrid's creamy, olive skin flashed in his mind. "Must be a damn important reason."

Gideon walked into the kitchen. Deacon wondered how much of their conversation his brother had overheard. "I have this niggling suspicion you plan to go after her, Deacon."

"You can stop suspecting because I am."

"You haven't talked to Don Erasmos yet."

"His missive was clear. The Apache took her and that's all I need to know.

"You're more loco than I give you credit for, but like a burro, I'm all ears. How do you plan to get Madrid out of their camp?"

"I won't know until I see what tribe has her, how many there are, and under what conditions they're keeping her. Lot of variables here, so how do you expect me to answer that?"

"Well you can't just walk in and demand her back."

Deacon put his head down for a brief moment and then raised it to meet his brother's stupefied expression. "Why not? What if I had something they want, something they'd trade her for?"

Gideon outright laughed. "For one, you're more gut-drained than the rest of us about what happened seven years ago at 5Horses. Two, you have a hair-trigger temper at times. The two don't mesh."

"If you want to catch a shark, you go to the ocean, right? Maybe, just maybe, we'll get lucky and hear something about the girls from the natives." He frowned. "Apparently you think I can't keep my anger in check when dealing with the Indians."

"No, if you want it straight up. You live, breathe and eat what happened to Tess and Callie. And don't look at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm a heartless son of a bitch who put the raid on 5Horses behind me. You're wrong. Fireworks will look like flint the day we know they're alive and can do something about it."

"All right, I admit I'm short-fused at times and not as good at stuffing my words and anger when it comes to Tess and Callie."

Gideon put his chin down and rolled his eyes skyward.

"I'm a fucking bleeding heart; is that what you want to hear? But there's a lot at stake here and I think I can handle—"

"Seeing Maddie again?"

"Yes, I have no choice, Gideon. You want me to stuff this too? When is enough, enough for you?"

Gideon's voice softened. "She's not your woman now. Last I heard she accepted Emmett Plummer's offer of marriage."

"Si señor," Juan interjected. "They are to wed next month."

Deacon scowled. He'd never met the man but had seen him in town on numerous occasions. "She's gonna marry some sissified dandy who works at a bank? The Apache are gonna quake with fear when he rides in—stiff white shirt, brocade vest and shoes shinier than a baboon's ass."

"Forget about Plummer," Gideon gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "I don't give a damn about him. What I want to know is whether you have a plan before you go off half-cocked."

"We already established Juan can't ride in with me. And the Apache sure as hell won't have an olive branch set out. But what if I have trade in the wagon, something that interests them long enough to parlay with me?"

"They could just kill you and take what you have in the wagon," Gideon countered. "On a good day, they'll stake you out in the desert and let the sun roast ya or maybe they won't take kindly about you encroaching on their land. In that case, they'll slice your tongue off, poke out your eyes and send you on your way."

"I don't think so," Juan offered between bites of a tortilla. "Curiosity runs deep in their blood. They will want to know why a lone man comes, and they admire courage."

"Juan's right. It's not every day a white man ventures into their territory."

Gideon snorted. "None who lived to tell about it."

"They'll know I'm coming long before I get close to their village. We can only hope Juan's right; they'll watch, see what I want."

"I don't like it." Gideon frowned. "You'd have a better chance if you crawled in after dark and stole her back."

"Maddie won't expect to see me. Once she does, she won't be overjoyed." Deacon rolled his eyes. Most likely, she'll scream and struggle, then what?"

"Then," Gideon winked. "The Apache will hogtie you till dawn and kill you in front of the whole village, real slow and painful like."

"Right, that's why I have to ride into their camp, clear and bright as sunshine and offer to trade for her release."

"What do you plan on trading?"

"Everything and anything of value Don Erasmos can load into the wagon. Even rifles."

Gideon snickered. "And the army if they find out?"

"I can't worry about what the army thinks when Maddie's life hangs in the balance."

Sopping up maple syrup with a slice of thick bread, Juan interjected, "Food, señor. The Apache are hungry. And mirrors, blankets, trade beads."

"Thirty miles to El Vaquero. That eats up one day." Gideon wrinkled his brow. "It will take us another day to reach their camp."

"Us, Gideon? You can't leave the ranch, and this isn't your problem."

"Your problem is my problem, brother." Determination darkened his cobalt eyes. "Pepe and Ramon are capable of running the ranch while we're gone."

Deacon shook his head. "No, two men riding in will raise their suspicion, make them jittery. What I need you to do is get word to Lawson and Rowan the Apache have struck again. They'll rile up the Rangers, convince them to ride out. Never know; maybe something will turn up about Tess and Callie."