Free [Texas Rangers 06] - Jericho's Road by Elmer Kelton

back.” He led them into a room dominated by a large fireplace where the cooking was done. Andy remembered that Rusty Shannon had bought an iron stove for Alice. Maybe McCawley was waiting for that new house before he installed so modern a convenience. Through a window he saw an outdoor Mexican-style baking oven in an open patio.
    The room smelled of fresh bread, reminding Andy that he had eaten nothing since breakfast but a strip of jerky.
    A slender, black-haired woman was bent over a table, slicing strips from a hindquarter of beef. McCawley said, “Juana, we have company.”
    She turned. Andy saw that she was no longer young, but she still had smooth olive skin and large, expressive brown eyes so dark that they looked black. She smelled faintly of lilac perfume. Or maybe it was the flowers in pots scattered not only in the parlor but in the kitchen.
    “ My wife,” McCawley said.
    Andy felt awkward, not sure he should speak English to her. But he knew no Spanish. He bowed from the waist. “How do, ma’am? I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
    Len said, “Howdy, Miz McCawley.”
    Farley grunted something unintelligible.
    She said, “Welcome to our home, gentlemen. If you would like to wash up, you will find water and soap and fresh towels in the patio. Supper will be ready in a little while.”
    McCawley said, “These men are Rangers.”
    She smiled, skin crinkling at the corners of her eyes. “Then you are doubly welcome. Our house is your house.”
    The Spanish-style patio sat in the center of the house. Flowers of many hues had survived summer’s heat beneath the edge of the overhanging roof.
    Len commented in a loud whisper, “She talks English purt near as good as me and you, don’t she? I’ll bet she was somethin’ to look at when she was twenty years younger.”
    Andy said, “She still is.” For a moment a vague image came into his mind’s eye, a faint recollection of his mother. She had been killed by Indians when he was a small boy. He had no clear memory of her face, but sometimes he imagined he could hear her voice. He thought he heard an echo of it in Mrs. McCawley’s. “She seems like a real pleasant woman.”
    Farley said, “But she’s a Mexican.”
    Andy hoped McCawley had not overheard, but he had. The rancher said, “Yes, she’s Mexican. There was a time when her family owned all this land.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Don Cipriano Chavez, her father, fought beside Sam Houston against Santa Anna. But that didn’t help him when Americans decided they wanted his land. They killed him and Juana’s first husband, and they tried to take away the property he had on this side of the river.”
    Len asked, “Then how come you to have this ranch?”
    “ After I married Juana, most of the land grabbers left this place alone. They knew I was a Texian, and I proved I would fight them. Some people called it a marriage of convenience, to save what her father left to her. But it was a lot more than that.” McCawley looked back toward the door, his expression softening. “I was just a wanderer. I had no real aim in life except to survive. She gave me purpose. The land is in my name now, but it’ll always be hers. And the children’s.”
    Andy asked, “How many children?”
    “ I have a daughter and a stepson. Our daughter, Teresa, will be here in time for supper. She teaches the ranch children in a schoolhouse we built here.”
    “ And the stepson?”
    McCawley frowned. “Tony is away, with his uncle.” His expression indicated that he did not want to dwell on this topic. Andy did not press him on it. He said, “You said bandits hit you pretty often.”
    “ White renegades feel like this ranch is Mexican because of my wife. Mexican bandits feel like it’s an American outfit because of me. We’re fair game for all of them. Especially Jericho’s bunch.”
    “ Can’t the Rangers stop him?”
    Andy saw Len shake his head.
    McCawley said, “Some of them don’t