Chapter 12: Plans Gone Sour
Jack's plan might have worked had only one or two guards entered that morning. When Domingo opened the door, Jack attempted to subdue him by throwing the canvas sheet over his head. When Juan came rushing in after, Jack hit him with one fist so hard the man flew backwards and crashed into a wall, knocking him out cold. Jack hopped over to Juan's prone body to search him for weapons. Unfortunately, there were no firearms, so he resumed his odd gait away from Domingo, who had recovered and was pulling a leather reata from his belt. He shook out a loop and started to walk toward Jack slowly, smiling devilishly. Jack was not to be caught easily, as Domingo threw his loop and missed.
Joe stood tensely, watching the display. He had tried to talk Jack out of the foolhardy plan, but the kid was not to be deterred. On the other hand, Joe admitted to himself that he probably would have done the same thing.
Joe's deductions about Jack's past were right about one thing: the kid knew how to fight. Juan had not stirred since being struck once, a testimony to Jack's fighting ability. Joe didn't count on Jack getting close enough to Domingo to try that trick again. Even now, the vaquero was slowly making Jack's running room smaller and smaller. Jack finally hobbled right over to Joe and pressed against Joe's much larger frame.
"Ah, chico, that's no way to play," Domingo chided. "Your mamá, she wants to see you. She outside waiting. Don't make her upset, hijo. She very sick, no?"
Joe straightened threateningly and protectively. Domingo's eyes widened and he kept his distance. "Gringo, get that chico away from you or I come to you again with your old friend." One hand stroked the quirt that hung from his belt.
Joe was not to be put off. He held his ground while putting one hand behind him to rest on Jack's arm.
Like a western gale, Maddie came striding into the shed with several more hands. "What is going on in here?" she demanded. Her eyes fixed on the two men against the wall. Jack shrunk behind Joe's back. "Jimmy, what are you doing? Come out from behind that…ranger."
Joe was shocked when Jack started to comply. He shoved the kid back. "Leave him alone. He ain't done nothin'."
She ignored his command. "Jimmy, get over here this instant! Your mother wants to see you! You need a shave and washing up."
Joe looked down at Jack. His eyes were full of uncertainty. "She ain't my ma, she ain't my ma, she…"
"That's right, Jack. You keep sayin' that."
"You!" Maddie screeched, as if noticing Joe for the first time. "You've done this! We had him to where he trusted us, and you've poisoned him against us!"
Cliff chose this moment to stroll into the place like a king entering his courtroom. "I told you it was a bad idea to keep him, sis, but you got caught up in those brawny arms."
"Shut up, Cliff! Get your useless cousin away from that man and get him cleaned up. Aunt Florie's pining for him."
Cliff glared at her back but did as he was told. He signaled to the vaqueros and together they spread out to make a human fence. Jack became more and more agitated the closer they got, and Joe was hard-pressed to keep the boy behind him. He wasn't sure why he was holding onto the boy; it wasn't like he could keep Jack from them forever. He just couldn't hand him over to those bloodsuckers.
"Better just let him go, ranger," Cliff sneered. "We're gonna get him anyway. Better for you to help us out. It'll go easier on you if you do."
Jack's head was turning back and forth frantically, and suddenly he darted toward a gap in the line. Joe snatched at Jack's arm but missed as the boy was agile, even in his fetters. His easily scuttled around the men's outstretched arms, chain rattling the entire time, and Joe got the sad impression that this had happened numerous times.
Eventually Jack was backed into a corner, his eyes wild and panting heavily. The entire time he said nothing, making him seem all the more like a frightened animal. Joe had never felt more helpless in his whole life. He wanted to shout encouragement, but what help would it be? Jack was confused enough as it was.
Domingo had better luck this time with his reata and caught one of Jack's arms. Jack shrieked like trapped rabbit, but that was the only resemblance to the gentle critter as the kid charged the Mexican. He was over him in half a second and awkwardly hopping toward the door. He only made a few strides when the rope went tight, for though Domingo had been knocked down, he had maintained his grip. Jack's running room had finally ended. He desperately tried to loosen the rope around his wrist but he didn't have enough time. Cliff and the remaining two men rushed to restrain him. He howled and twisted but was quickly forced into the canvas jacket once more. His teeth snapped within a hair's breadth of Cliff's arm, but the supposed-cousin was prepared and slapped Jack's mouth with enough force to whip his face to the side.
"ENOUGH!" a voice boomed.
Everyone froze to see Randall Jamison standing next to his daughter. Maddie looked pale and nervous; no doubt that during the entire fiasco, she had been given a good talking-to by her father.
Randall flicked one finger toward himself and the spell was broken. Jack was dragged forward, but he by no means came willingly. He continued to kick his feet and attempt to bite those holding him, but they were too strong. They stopped in front of Randall, who looked down at the young man. "Jimmy, stop this at once." His voice was quiet but firm. Jack continued to struggle, though perhaps not as greatly as before. "Jimmy," Randall chided, "I won't say it again."
Joe was sure that his mouth fell open when Jack simply quit. He sagged against the vaqueros' hold, his head down in what looked like shame. "That's better," Randall said and patted Jack's dark hair. Anger rose in Joe's chest as he forgot his situation and took a step forward, but was stopped by the chain. His movement drew Randall's attention. "Ah, Mr. Riley! Good morning. My, my, but you look rather haggard. Didn't you sleep well?"
Joe refused to answer.
"Did little Jimmy keep you awake? Jim, son, that wasn't very polite of you."
Jack's head seemed to sag even further. "Sorry, Uncle Randall," he murmured, stunning Joe as if he had been slapped in the face.
Randall beamed proudly at the apology, but his predatory eyes were on Joe, taking in the ranger's reaction to Jack's compliance. "You could have gotten Mr. Riley into trouble, Jimmy. Why did you go to see him?"
"I don't know."
"What did you talk about?"
"N-nothing."
Randall's face reddened in anger. "You didn't just stare at each other all night, Jimmy! What did he say?"
Jack's head came up, his eyes full of hate. "Nothing!"
Randall's eyes bulged at the unexpected defiance. He glowered at the young man, but Jack's glare remained steady. Randall raised a hand and slapped Jack soundly on one cheek, following with a backhand on the other.
Joe charged forward and nearly fell when the chain snapped tight. "Leave him be! You want to know what I told him? Why don't you ask me, I'll tell you! I told him that you're a dirty, worthless, son of a mangy cur, hounding him like that! He ain't your nephew, cousin, son, or any other kind of relation! You wonder why he don't remember you? Because he ain't never met you before you brung him here! You're tellin' him lies and confusin' him, all so you can play your silly little games. That's what I told him! That you're all frauds!" Joe's voice dropped in volume before continuing. "And I also told him that my company knew where I was goin'. Did you fools think that I was the only one out here? That the others wouldn't come lookin' for me? You're wrong, dead wrong."
Randall listened to Joe's outburst with a calmness that just barely concealed his anger. "Jimmy, do you believe what this man says?"
Jack's face turned toward Joe, who nodded encouragingly. "I…"
"Well, do you?" Randall demanded.
"I don't know," Jack whispered, but everyone in the room heard him.
Randall's jaw worked in displeasure, but he shoved his feelings aside and gently finger-combed Jack's hair. "Well, believe it or not, your mother is here, and she wants to see you. Try and be nice?"
Jack's face was a picture of confusion as he nodded blankly. Joe's heart sunk. Just what had they done to the kid that he gave in so easily? Joe had really believed that he had gotten through the lies and had Jack believing that he didn't belong there.
Domingo brought over a chair and the two men holding Jack put him in it. Maddie came forward and started to wash Jack's face with a cloth, something Jack didn't appreciate. He looked as though he wanted to lash out, but one look from Randall and he sat like a statue. Maddie proceeded to give Jack a shave, being surprisingly gentle…but then Joe remembered that Maddie had fawned over her "cousin" just the day before. She made him sick.
Randall had come to Joe's side unnoticed. "Well, ranger, you've made a real nuisance of yourself."
"Sorry to be a bother," Joe replied sarcastically.
"Careful," Randall admonished. He reflectively watched Maddie lather up Jack's face with shaving soap. "Nice looking boy there. Bears an uncanny resemblance to Florie's son."
Joe gaped at him. "What?"
"Three or so months ago, I came across someone who had a problem on their hands. That boy," he pointed at Jack, "was the problem. Can you believe that they were going to just throw a prime lad like that to the buzzards? I coerced them into selling him to me for a pouch of silver."
"I think you might have been cheated. He's kinda skinny."
Randall turned his haunting grey eyes on Joe's face. "I'll make enough profit off you to make up the difference," he said coldly. "No, I wasn't buying whatever-his-name-is for the same purpose I'm selling you. I bought him for the way he looked. Like I said, he bears an uncanny resemblance for my nephew, James Fowler, my sister Florie's son. He was kidnapped or killed years ago, and poor Florie never got over it. She was on the edge of insanity. But then I found this mixed up kid, who looks just enough like a grown version of Jimmy. Florie was convinced in an instant. Jimmy, as we now call him, was not…"
"I'm real surprised."
"When we found him, he fell from his horse and hit his head. His memory was patchy at best after that, so it didn't take much to make him believe that he was Jimmy Fowler. Things were going rather well, but gradually, Jimmy started to behave like you see him doing now."
"You can't expect to believe that it's possible to completely work over a man's mind and have no problems," Joe exclaimed incredulously.
"My methods of persuasion were beginning to work on him again. That is, until you showed up. He must have heard that we had a Texas Ranger in the cellar up at the big house, because he kept trying to go down there. That was when he started acting like a wild animal. He bit Cliff so hard they couldn't get him off."
"That boy is kinda feisty, ain't he?"
Randall stared fiercely down his nose at the ranger. "Laugh all you want, but as soon as they got him off, he grabbed a gun and tried to shoot himself. Think it's funny now?"
Joe's heart fell to his boots. "No, it ain't funny. But you remember this, you dirty snake, if somethin' does happen to that boy it won't be his doin', it'll be yours. You're drivin' him crazy."
"No, you are. He was fine before you came along." Randall smiled cunningly. "Maybe what you said is true, about this area being full of rangers, all looking for you. I can't be too careful. That's why I'm organizing a special trip, just for you. You ever been to Mexico, Riley? You'll like it, I'm sure. You'll be seeing it soon, probably before tomorrow's dawn. So, enjoy Texas while you can. This is the last day you'll ever see it."