MUDDY, NENA, AND CHANCHO reached Brackettville after sunset. They paused on the edge of town to discuss their options one last time.
“We could head for Mexico.” Nena leaned forward in her saddle. “It would be possible to reach the border before sunrise.”
Muddy grunted. “Possible, but difficult. There are many eyes on the border.”
Chancho was too tired to think straight. The desert orchestra of crickets was hypnotic, causing him to sink deeper inside his exhaustion. As if Muddy could sense it, he continued, “Besides, we need to rest. What good will it do to step in a rabbit hole in the dark?”
Nena glowered. “We do not need to rest. Chancho needs to rest.”
The sound of his name snapped him out of his trance. “I’m sorry, mis amigos.” He took a deep breath. “But I do not want to go to Mexico. Not tonight, not tomorrow.”
Nena narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him through the dim twilight. “Would you mind sharing why you do not want to go to Mexico?”
Chancho sighed. He had no good reason for not wanting to cross the border, yet he had several good reasons he shouldn’t. Trouble was, he hadn’t shared any of them with his closest friends. Without being any closer to understanding why the rinche was tracking them, the only thing for certain was he did not intend to give up easily. Chancho could not risk the loss of human life due to his concealing parts of the story.
“I can’t go to Mexico,” Chancho said. “I have not been honest with you, mis amigos.” Chancho rushed onward without looking Muddy or Nena in the eyes. “I am wanted by the Constitutional Government for destruction of property, theft, and murder.” He fetched the gold coin from his pocket. Stretching from his saddle, he handed it to Muddy. “For robbing a very large amount from a very important train for Pancho Villa. Afterwards, when things were at their worst, I abandoned Villa.”
“Why would you be afraid to tell us this?”
Muddy shushed Nena and waited for Chancho to continue.
“When I finally understood the truth behind war, I panicked. I didn’t want to remember the old Chancho anymore. I didn’t want you to know him either, so I tried to bury the past.” Cricket song throbbed, almost visible in the failing twilight. “And then, after the rinche, I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to change what we have.”
“What would that be, other than a lack of trust?” Nena quipped.
Muddy silenced her with a quick slash of his hand. “More importantly, what is it you still need to tell us?”
“I thought it would go away, that the rinche would stop looking for us. That we could keep everything the way it was.” Chancho rubbed the notch of his earlobe. Now that he spoke the words out loud, they felt small and pathetic.
Nena opened her mouth to speak, but caught herself. Muddy remained a statue on Tripalo’s back.
Chancho told them about the cantina, about Primitivo, about leaving out the back door before the shootout. He told them how he thought his problem had resolved itself until he found out about the dead Ranger. Finally he concluded, “I honestly don’t know why the sheriff and the rinche chased me.”
Nena could no longer keep quiet. “Why was it easier to blame Muddy’s El Chupacabra?”
“Maybe I didn’t want it to be my fault.”
“You didn’t want to be alone.” Muddy spoke in a somber, even tone. “You feared if it was only you they were after that we would leave.”
“No.” Chancho shook his head.
Muddy said, “As long as the three of us are together, the present guards you from the past.” Worse than Nena’s white-hot anger was Muddy’s steady accusation. “How could you think we would leave?”
Chancho shriveled inside. “Lo siento, I…I just wanted to preserve our simple life, maybe fall in love. I should have trusted you.”
“You’re damn right!” Nena thumped her saddle horn.
“Nena.” Muddy spoke the single word with force enough to stun a bull, like a lead pipe across its brow. He returned the gold coin to Chancho. “Whether the rinche is after goat rustlers, revolutionaries, murderers, or marihuana farmers, we will stick together. It is what family does.”
Muddy’s disappointment crushed Chancho. As small as his family was, he couldn’t afford to lose any part. “You’re right. I couldn’t see past my own self-pity.”
“And now what are we to believe?” Nena hissed. “If we are wanted for the killing of a Texas Ranger, it will not be safe for us anywhere north of the border.”
Muddy’s eyes shown in the dark as he turned toward his wife. “I don’t want to go to Mexico.”
Nena breathed rapidly, her chest heaving. ”He has already put our lives at risk with his lies. How many more will it take? I am not afraid of Carranza or Villa. We should ride to Mexico. There is no longer a home for us here!”
Chancho surged back to life. “But what about Sunny, and Bronco, and Chloe? We can’t just leave them. They are family too.” Chancho grew animated in the settling darkness. He swept his arms out wide to indicate the land surrounding them. “Since the rinche drove us from the Catholic Hills, our home has only expanded.”
“You are as blind as you are crazy. You would call me disloyal to family? We do nothing to help our friends and family by staying here. We only put them in harm’s way. We are wanted criminals thanks to you.” She shot Muddy an angry eye. “And we are wasting time.” Bella pawed the ground nervously as Nena drew her crossbow and held it in her lap. “The Ranger will follow and threaten anyone who helps us.”
Muddy slapped his fist into his open palm. “Stop.” Even the crickets obeyed. “We have come to Brackettville already. The Ranger will follow, just as you’ve said. We have already involved those who live here. That was my decision. Chancho has lied, but lies are not new to any of us.” He turned to Chancho and took a deep breath as Tripalo shifted his weight. “You were wrong not to trust us, but you were right that the reason we are pursued is not important.”
“We are guilty of nothing. We are not lost or alone, and we should not act that way.” Muddy’s words were hammers on anvils. “We will take the position of strength and stand up to the Ranger when the time comes.” He put his hand on Nena’s shoulder as tenderly as he could. “But for now, I agree with Chancho. We should not go to Mexico.”
Nena avoided his attempts at affection, reasserting her control. “Come then. Main street will be trafficked enough to mask our tracks. If you insist on staying here overnight, we should at least ensure we aren’t found out by morning.” She made no attempt to mask her fury at losing the battle.
Battered by regret, Chancho pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew Nena had not ceded the war. His actions over the last few days had caused damage not easily undone.
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