The Flying Z by Leo W. Banks

Author:Leo W. Banks [Banks, Leo W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: .ISBNincl, Crime, Romance, Thriller, Western
ISBN: 9781954841628
Publisher: Brash Books
Published: 2023-07-24T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

* * *

Toward evening, Levi left, Lucy left, and the tortures of burial day worsened in the darkness, becoming bitter memory. Merry had gone to bed. Will sat alone at the kitchen table drinking a beer. The night wind drummed against the little adobe.

After a while he walked out to Hector’s apartment in the barn.

The single room was a crude build-on, made of rough wood slats. The bed was a thin blanket covering a mattress of hay. On the wall were photos of his kids and a framed photo of Hector’s wife on a horse, smiling, the wind tossing her hair. His sketches of Mexican poppies hung there, too. Even his prized camera, which could easily have fit into a saddle bag, was there.

Will studied the place and thought: Eight years. Eight years!

He remembered the day he and Buck had gone with Hector to Tucson to finalize his application for citizenship. Buck had done all the legwork, hired the lawyer, loaned Hector the money, and helped fill out the endless papers.

The ceremony was at the old Spanish mission at Tumacácori south of Tucson, and afterward Buck bought lunch at Zulas restaurant in Nogales. He was so excited he couldn’t sit still. He took Hector from table to table, arm over his shoulder, introducing every stranger there to the new American.

He was beaming, as proud as Hector was. “I want a man working for me that’s got a stake in the ranch and a stake in the whole dern country,” Buck said.

Hector’s room looked as it always had, as if nothing had changed. His break had been clean and remorseless. How could he just leave it all behind? Even in a bad fire he’d have shown indecision. Picked up an item, dashed around, thought about it, dropped it and grabbed something else.

But he’d done none of that. It was as if no part of his life at the Flying Z had been worth saving. He’d erased eight years on the ranch, erased his entire past with Buck and Will in the few minutes it took to ride away.

“How do you murder the man who gave you a home and a living?” Will said aloud. “How do you do that, Hector? I really need to know.”

But it was too late. The time for talk had passed. The rage came fast. It raced up Will’s spine as he ripped down Hector’s sketches and photos and tore them to pieces.

Will was at the corral early next morning. He had Lobo saddled with several days’ supplies in a sack and his Winchester in the scabbard. He’d dressed for concealment in a black jacket, a black bandanna, black gloves and hat.

Lucy had on a long brown trench coat, double-breasted with wide lapels, a high collar, and a belt through loops. She’d plucked it from her junk collection. It might’ve been spotless two decades ago. Her white hair hung beneath a black knit beanie that accentuated her bony face.

Merry came out wearing Emma’s white robe. During the night, she’d again tried to talk Will out of going.

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