Refuge Saga(WT)

Chapter Four

Chapter IV

Armando was in his office buried in a stack of reference books and paper. Ink stained his hands smudging the paper he was making notes on, and his long dark locks were in disorder from him obsessively raking his hand thorough it.


The bell hooked over his door jangled and he looked up. One visitor was a rare enough occurrence Armando was reduced to blinking and clearing his throat upon finding two strangers stuffed into the available space before his desk. “Ah umm,” Armando stood a bit awkwardly to avoid tipping the precarious stacks of paper and books to the floor. “Good morning, err afternoon.” Armando said glaring out the window at the day that seemed to be speeding to closure before he made any significant head way in his opening arguments for the Rose case.


The older man seemed of an age with Armando but was the subordinate or taking that role, as he was laden with two bulky cases. He set them down with audible relief when Armando bade them sit.


“How may I be of assistance?” Armando asked his visitors.


“Are you Armando Hernandez Vega?” The younger man asked. He had a fine bone structure and fair skin that gave him an almost feminine beauty, yet he had an unmistakable maleness about him.


“Who might I ask is enquiring?”


“I am Gayle McMaster of McMaster, Williams and Cole.” The man introduced himself. “This is my clerk, Jefferson Hewitt. We have been appointed by the government to pursue the people’s interest in this case.


“In that case, I am not sure I can sincerely say, ‘good to meet you.’”


If the boy was offended by Armando’s frankness, he had the good sense to hide it. “Then I take it you are Mr. Armando Hernandez Vega.”


“I am.”


McMaster nodded to him and stuck out his hand. Armando took it. “I simply wanted to introduce myself. I find that seeing my adversary in his natural habitat is quite informative.”


Armando suddenly felt quite uncomfortable and he let his gaze sweep the room, this time taking it in from the perspective of his visitors. He smiled at his counterpart. Many had made the mistake of assuming his mind was as disorganized as his desk sometimes appeared. He wondered if this young man would make that mistake.


“Shall I make an appointment with you as to when I should interview your client?”


“How’s tomorrow at one?” Armando suggested.


McMaster’s eyebrows went up  as he considered it then a little smile flitted over his face. “Tomorrow at one. Make note of it Mr. Hewitt, if you would be so kind.”


“Of course sir.” Mr. Hewitt answered marking in a leather bound book.


Armando had thrown out the date and time assuming McMaster would refuse, thus allowing Armando to bank a refusal of his own. By accommodating the tight time limit McMaster had turned tables and banked a concession from Armando in the future. Not only that but Armando had not yet prepared Hank for this interview and now he had less than twenty-four hours.


Armando stood with his “guest” and went through the motions of polite society, pointing them in the direction of the town’s only hotel. When they were safely down the street, Armando went next door to the jail.





Uriah dumped a coffee pot full of water on the fire. The blackened wood and ash sizzled and sighed sending a cloud of steam and smoke skyward and he allowed his gaze to follow the column. Time was marching on and the shortening days meant they would only have a hand full of day light hours for riding.


Sure the fire was out, Uriah gathered the horses and saddled his, then blanketed Billy’s.  He couldn’t hide the small smile that played across his lips at the memory of Billy’s expression when he’d told him to leave the saddle as they prepared to leave that morning. Riding bare back took more concentration, especially with shackled hands. Uriah figured it was a good way to keep Billy’s mind occupied on keeping his seat rather than on escape. The con’s penchant for trouble was legendary.


Finished Uriah moved to the tree he’d tied his prisoner to. Billy closed the book he’d been reading and handed it to Uriah to put repack in the saddle bag. Uriah tipped the book up and looked at the spine. “That’s a mighty fine book you have here.” Uriah commented running his gloved hand over the gold leaf that spelled out “Psalms and Proverbs of the Holy Bible.”


“It was a gift.”


Uriah regarded the man sitting at his feet, hand shackled together in his lap and tied to a tree. He was a liar, a cheat and a thief. Uriah had decided not to be his victim a long time ago.


“The others have forgotten what you are.” Uriah said. “But I haven’t.”


“What I was.” Billy corrected, holding Uriah’s gaze. “I am not what I was. But that does not erase what I did, nor erase the pain for those I hurt.


“Don’t waste your breath asking me to forgive you.”


The sun was setting quickly at their backs when they came to a wide ford in one of the smaller branches of the Rio Grande.  It was called seven fords by the locals because the little river was combed into seven little creeks by a rise in the land. The southern side of the ford was wide and a bit deeper than the northern side where the river came back together.


Blessedly Uriah stopped a few yards from the river. Billy sighed, happy that he didn’t have to sleep in wet boots tonight. He dismounted and froze as the distinct metallic click of a colt’s hammer being cocked rang in his ears.


“What are you doing?” Uriah asked.


Billy made sure to keep his hands on his horse’s broad back, where Uriah could see them. “Just dismounting, Uriah.”


“Just stay right where you’re at.”


Billy did as he was told. He heard the jangle of Uriah’s spur as he lifted his leg over the saddle followed by the slide of leather on leather and then the Uriah landed behind him.


“Turn around.”


Billy obeyed, and found himself nose to nose to nose with the lawman. His heart thudded in his chest so loud he was certain Uriah could hear it. “I don’t trust you Billy. You haven’t given me reason to.”


“I haven’t given you reason not to, Uriah.”


“It’s not the same thing Billy.” Uriah replied as he took hold of the hand cuffs and led Billy to a tree and tied him.


“May I have my book?” Billy asked.


“You don’t have to keep up the act you know.”


“May I have my book, please, Uriah?” Billy asked again keeping his tone neutral and even.


Uriah went to Billy’s horse and retrieved the leather bound volume. Walked it back to him and handed it to him.


“Thank you.” Billy said as he accepted it.





Elizabeth woke and stretched. The bedroom was bathed in that predawn grayness she liked so much. Her hand went automatically to the space beside her. It was cold and empty. Armando hadn’t come home the night, which was not an unusual occurrence when he had a trial coming up. She rolled over and bunched his pillow up under her nose breathing in the scent of him. That would have to do until he came home this evening.


Elizabeth rolled out of bed and crossed to the little chair in the corner. It was far easier to kneel there than at the bed, which she actually did have to climb into. So she crossed the room and began her day as she always did, having a talk with God.





Across the yard in what had once been a bunk house, a lean man, aged beyond his years, lowered himself to his knees. Heart heavy with care he lifted his burden to the one he knew could carry it all.


George got up from the bench that flanked the table. Matthew and Clair were kneeling by their own beds. A ghosted his lined face as he paused to watch his children pray.


Then he turned to the bed pushed close to the stove where his wife lay. Abigail looked so small there, so slight, she barely disturbed the mountain of quilt. She was a sleep, and it looked peaceful. George offered up thanks for that.


“Papa.”


“Yes Clair?” George asked his oldest daughter. She looked the most like him with flaxen locks and brown eyes so light they were nearly the color of honey. His blond hair had finished its transition to white, and his eyes once gold were now nearly colorless.


“I see Mrs. Vega in the kitchen, may I go help her.”


“Of course child.”


“Pa.” Matthew said as he was thumbing on his suspenders


“Yes son.”


“I’m going to draw us some water and see what I can do for Mrs. Vega.”


“Take Luke with you.” George said.


“Pa” Clair climbed up on the plank bench next to him and set head gently on his shoulder, “Papa.” She said quietly.


“Yes Clair?”


“Can we go see Hank today?” She turned her head to catch his gaze.


The question caught George off guard. He’d told Clair and Matt that Hank had been arrested. He told the three youngest their brother would be staying in town for a bit.


“I will think on it Clair.”


“Thank you Papa.”


George watched Clair as she left. Matt followed shortly with a gleeful Luke at his heal while the five year old twins John and Andrew clamored to be allowed to go.


“Shh now you two you will wake your mother.” George admonished his youngest.


“Shh,” John shushed Andrew who shushed John.


George chuckled quietly. “Come now, let’s get you two dressed.” He directed them. Five beautiful obedient children, where had he ever gone wrong with Hank, he wondered as he dressed the twins. Then put the thought aside. What had passed already could not be fixed.





Hank paced in his cell while Armando sat on the hard cot. Armando couldn’t help but wonder how the kid slept on the thing. It was obviously much too short for him.


“I can’t do this.” Hank said running a large paw through his brown curls and making them even more unruly. “I am no good at this Armando. Don’t you know, I didn’t even go back to school this term.” The boy pleaded.


“This is not something you can get out of Hank.”


“But I will screw up!” Hank insisted.


“How can you screw up telling the truth.”


“You said tell the truth, but not say too much. I’m going to say too much.”


If the situation wasn’t so serious, the boy’s hysterical panic would have been comical. “Hank.” Armando placed a calming hand on either of the boy’s broad shoulders arresting his nervous pacing and looked into his terrified eyes. “You can do this. And you are the only person who can do this because you are the only person with all of the right answers.”


The boy’s panicked expression was replaced with a quizzical one that quickly changed to guarded. “I’m the only one with all the right answers?”


“You are the only one that knows the truth Hank. And you’re the only one that can tell it.”


“I just have to say the truth.”


Armando nodded. “That’s all you have to do.”


“What about all that other stuff, about not saying more than I need to.”


Armando thought for a minute, prayer would have been a truer description of what transpired in his mind. “Sit down Hank.”


The boy took the chair in the corner of the cell. He mimicked Armando’s posture, elbows planted on his knees chin on his folded hands and waited.


“It’s like this: Do you have a dog Hank?”


“I had a dog.” Hank answered. “I had to give him away when ma got sick. Pa was going to drive him off.”


“Ok what was the question?”


“Do I have a dog?”.


“Do you?” Armando asked.


“No.” Hank answered. “I already told you that.”


“Correct. When Mister McMaster’s asks you questions I want to answer them like you did the second time I asked you the question.”


Hank sat back in the chair crossed his arms over his chest and looked at a spot somewhere past Armando. It was rather interesting watching the boy puzzle over the request. He furrowed his brow deeper and deeper until Armando wondered if the two would become one permanently. And then they seemed to untangle incrementally until they just might be two separate brows instead of a uni-brow.


“OK, ask me another question.”


Armando chewed his lip as he considered what to ask the boy. He stood and began to pace. “All right, is Mrs. Vega your teacher?”


“No.”


“Good, good.” Armando said with a smile and fired another question. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”


“Four brothers and one sister.”


Armando nodded, pleased with the boys response. “I knew you would get this, Hank.” Armando said reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair. He hadn’t forgotten what hank had said about school and he filed it away for later.