Canyon Diablo

by Atonia

 

Part 12

 

They stood outside the jail at Lee’s Crossing waiting on two of the lawmen to get back with a horse for Cort. O’Neill had been talking it up, how they’d chased these desperados all the way from Canyon Diablo. Ben noticed how he never mentioned the two that got away. He respected O’Neill, a tough customer in any fight. An equal he thought, but on the opposite side of society.

 

“Only a matter of time,” O’Neill was saying the other two would be caught and brought to justice.

 

He’d seen his own wanted posters hanging around towns before, and surely East would be recognized, but as far as he knew, Egan was an unknown to O’Neill. He hoped they made it out and hoped to see them again someday.

 

“Think you can ride that 600 miles again all beat up like you are?”

 

Cort turned, “I can ride, might be easier going back.”

 

“Yeah I ‘spect we’ll travel the road. We’ll go to Prescott, I reckon, be tried for our sins and shipped off to Yuma.”

 

“You’ve been there…”

 

“Yeah…I been there, broke out too. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see me back.”

 

“Why did you give yourself up Ben?”

 

“End of the road, I figured you was dead or busted up too bad to live. I was tired of fightin’.”

 

“I’ve been in jail before and got busted out by Herod’s men, and I busted a few out myself, never went to prison though.” He looked down at the shackles on his wrists, he still bore the scars from the last time when Herod had him chained in Redemption.

 

“Them was the good ole days,” Ben smirked. “When we was free.”
 
Egan had ingratiated himself with a couple of families during the long ten mile trek into Utah.  He’d introduced himself as John Shill. His first thought was that it didn’t look any different than Arizona, same barren landscape of canyons and mesas. He’d respectfully declined the offer to join the larger family, and took off riding toward the east with a Navajo and his son. They were going to work on the railroad and Egan as John Shill joined them.

 

It wasn’t long before he found himself back in Arizona traveling through the Navajo reservation.
“Where is this railroad?” he asked.

 

“Navajo Springs,” was the answer and Egan dropped his head, they’d passed not twenty miles from there on their way to Utah.

 

Ben and Cort were also surprised when O’Neill led them to Navajo Springs. Ben turned to Cort, “We coulda been in New Mexico by now.” He asked O’Neill if they weren’t going to Prescott.

 

“Nope, going to Tucson, you’ll be tried in Tucson.” His answers were always short and to the point.

 

“Tucson,” Ben repeated and looked at Cort. He thought about East on his way there now with Jincy. Jincy…he closed his eyes and thought about how she felt against him.

 

At the makeshift depot in Navajo Springs Ben learned the tracks were being laid to Canyon Diablo. Once again he allowed himself a little regret for the train robbery at Canyon Diablo. Progress, he thought, by now they’d have the bridge span and it wouldn’t be long until you’d be able to travel from one end to the other across the country. His way of life was fast coming to an end he could see it now…it was time to get out. But this wasn’t the way to do it. Grimly he boarded the train.

 

Cort and Ben were placed across from each other on the train with a deputy behind each of them. Cort was resigned to his fate, God still must have a purpose for him he thought. He hadn’t died when he fell from the cliff so something must be out there for him, he looked out of the window. He thought about what Ben had said about allowing himself to be victimized. Whatever God’s plans were for him now he would stand up and hold to his convictions. There was nothing anybody could ever do to him again that would come near what he’d already experienced.

 

Ben was looking out of the window too and listening up the aisle where Buckey O’Neill was being interviewed by a Tucson Star reporter, “Worst desperados that ever operated in this western county.” Ben smiled.
 

 

At 1 am with everybody on the train asleep in their seats, Ben Wade,  still shackled, jumped through an open window with the train going full speed at Raton Pass, near Trinidad, Colorado. He made his way to the Santa Fe trail which ran nearly parallel to the tracks and stole a horse while it’s owner lay sleeping under a tree.

 

Embarrassed by the escape  O’Neill sent two of his men back from Cimarron, NM to look for Ben Wade. Meanwhile he held Cort in the county jail under heavy guard.

 

Egan joined the railroad gang, they were still talking about the train robbers that had boarded the train with the Sheriff and his posse. So they had lived, he felt good about that and threw himself into the work for a short while. He wasn’t recognized by the railroad officials that came and went and finally he decided it was time to move on and the next time the train came into the station he was standing on the platform.

 

The train stopped in Trinidad, Colorado and among the passengers boarding was one of the posse members empty handed. Ben Wade was not to be found. Egan spotted him and slid down in his seat pulling his hat down over his eyes. The other posse member, a detective by the name of Black, was on the Santa Fe Trail. Over the course of the trip to Cimarron, Egan learned of Ben’s daring escape from the train at Raton Pass.

 

Ben emerged in the town of Cimarron in the dead of night. He’d been on the Mountain Trail mostly used by tradesmen, salesmen and others. He’d persuaded someone to remove his shackles and he was also now armed, moving through the town he passed by the jail picking up the trail again to Santa Fe.

 

He was arrested in Rayado by two US Marshalls, and in their company delivered to Tucson.
Egan was arrested in Cimarron by O’Neill himself and put on a train with Cort to Tucson.
 

 

The last night on the trail East and Jincy spent was near Canyon Diablo. She’d really got to know East in the last two and a half weeks, and not just sexually. But he wasn’t the marrying kind, he’d told her so. Jincy began to think about what she was going to do when she got home. She was no longer pure as a bride should be, no man would want her for a wife. She was twenty-one with no prospects and half in love with East; the other half of her dwelt on a fanciful dream that would never be. She imagined him still alive, that he made it out of Wahweap Canyon and was riding now across the canyons to freedom.

 

“East, how long did you know Ben Wade?”

 

“Ah about two years…”

 

“Why did you stay with him?”

 

“Ya know I think it was because of mutual respect. I never had nothing, Jincy, that wasn’t passed on to me by somebody else. I grew up in the stables by myself all I ever knew was horses and later on drinkin’. I never had no education; I can’t read…I can’t write nothing but my name. Ben give me a chance to be somebody, to have somethin’; and what I was before didn’t matter, it was what I could do for him.”

 

“But what you were doing for him, East…killing and robbing, wasn’t right.”

 

“I was good at it, that’s where I earned his respect; and he knew he could trust me like I could trust him. He ain’t never let me down, Jincy…never; he’s like that with somebody he likes and trusts.”

 

“What are you going to do without him?”

 

“Go back to horses, the only other thing I know. I’ll get myself to Texas.”

 

“You reckon he’s still alive?”

 

“I don’t know…I hope so…like to think he’s out there somewhere.”

 

“Yeah…me too.”

 

East rolled over and snuggled against her, “I think you’re sweet on ‘im.”

 

“No…I never got a chance to be.”

 

The next morning they rode to Canyon Diablo and to Miss Elda’s. Jincy’s trunk with her trousseau was still there in a storage room.

 

“You have no idea, Miss, how hard it was to keep the girls out of that trunk,” she leaned over Jincy’s shoulder while she pulled out clothes.”

 

“I just want some clean clothes…you can have the rest. I won’t be needing all those embroidered linens and the wedding dress now. Thanks for looking after it for me.”

 

“The train will be here in the morning, I wish you luck, Jincy Shumpert.”

 

“I’m gonna need it.” She smiled and headed for that hot bath.
 
 
 

 

Part 13

 

East and Jincy arrived in Tucson and walked from the train station to the main street. Jincy had what Ben had given her, and a few of her own things in a pack on her back. Once downtown East saw a saloon and thoughts of delivering Jincy to her doorstep went by the wayside.

 

“How far is it?” he asked her, “to your house.”

 

“Only another block and a bit,” she glanced over his shoulder at the saloon.  “You’re wanting that drink.”

 

He grinned, “Yeah…well I got you to Tucson.” He fiddled with his hat.

 

Jincy kissed him gently on the lips, “Bye, East…”

 

“Bye, Jincy, you’re a special girl you are.” He kissed her back and turned toward the saloon. Jincy watched him until he disappeared, wiped her eyes and continued on down the street.

 

As she neared her house she knew something was wrong and she ran the last few yards and opened the gate. It was all boarded up. On the porch in front of the door was a pile of newspapers and a few letters. She picked them up and sat down on the steps. A letter from Captain Pearson caught her eye and she opened it. It said since she didn’t arrive on the coach he assumed she had changed her mind; he was sorry to hear it but wished her well. Another line he had married a Miss Henrietta Lawson. Jincy balled the letters up and threw them out in the yard.

 

There were two bills from the local doctor for Maria’s treatment prior to her death. Jincy cried a little for Maria she’d been the closest thing she’d had to a mother. A notice from a lawyer stating since the house was abandoned it would be sold at auction and gave a date already passed by. It wasn’t even her house anymore. Naturally they all thought she’d gone to Yuma and got married. She put her head in her hands and wept.

 

East walked into the saloon and ordered a bottle and it was going down fast as he tossed back drink after drink. He was approached by two men who had just come into the saloon.

 

“East Driscoll?’

 

East turned around.

 

“You’re under arrest for the Canyon Diablo train robbery.”

 

East turned back to his drink and knocked it back setting the glass down hard on the bar he turned around and held out his wrists. He’d been recognized at the train depot.

 

Jincy walked back into town and into the saloon looking for East, the bartender told her he’d been arrested and taken to jail. Numbed she walked out of the saloon and down the street towards the edge of town.

 

Now that he had all four prisoners in jail, Buckey O’Neill was back in the news. A trial date was set for May 5, 1889. Meanwhile the four were sharing a four man cell with little to do but lay on their bunks and think. East had been sullen and quiet since he had been booked and thrown in with his former companions.

 

“You got her home?” Ben had asked.

 

“I got her to Tucson like you said.” He answered and didn’t elaborate.

 

“You’re a good man, East,” Ben stretched out on his bunk and looked at the bottom of the one above him where Egan lay asleep. He folded over the pad of paper and began sketching from memory a woman’s face.
 
(Authors note: This incident actually took place January 28, 1903 but I am using it here as having occurred May 3, 1889.)

 

It was near dinner time and all four men were awake when someone came running into the Sheriff’s office stating a Pullman car had careened into the train station destroying itself and a switch engine. Several officers ran to the station to find out what was going on, leaving two guards on duty. Sheriff McCabe, disturbed at his dinner table, left his meal uneaten and rushed to the train station where he heard the news was much worse than a destroyed Pullman car.
On board the Pullman which had detached itself from the Crescent City Express was a lone porter. He told of a terrifying train wreck out in the desert 14 miles to the east of Esmond Station. Esmond was about sixteen miles from Tucson.

 

Just a few hours earlier, the Benson bound Crescent City Express (No. 8) left the Wilmont Station at 2:40 PM to meet the Tucson bound Pacific Coast Express (No. 7) at Vails Station. The Pacific Coast Express left Vails Station, totally unaware they were heading straight for the Crescent City Express, a few miles ahead -- on the same track, in the opposite direction. Straight into disaster.

 

A brakeman from the Crescent City Express walked the six miles back to Vails and telegraphed Tucson to send a relief train. Every available man was called to aid including doctors and morticians. They loaded onto the relief engine and headed out to Esmond.

 

That left the jail unguarded except for the man who brought the meals to the prisoners, and one other who was missing when Artie Dooley brought the meals in. When he leaned down to slide the food under the bars Ben grabbed his head banging it against the bars and demanded the keys. The frightened old man produced the keys and the four of them walked out of the cell. They sprinted toward the livery stable and stole horses, it being unmanned at the time, and raced out of town, unknowingly toward the train wreck.

 

As they neared the site Ben veered off into the desert with East and Egan following. Cort however continued on toward the blazing fire in the distance. Black smoke pouring up from oil along the tracks was already burning his eyes as he neared. The twisted trains looked monstrous in the flames, hell, it was hell he thought, and it drew him onward.
 
All through the evening and through the night he worked alongside the railway men, doctors, and others looking for survivors. He gave last rites where needed and prayed and gave comfort to the survivors. Through the night the relief train ran back and forth to Tucson bringing wounded and dead to be unloaded. Cort stayed at the site and with the people that needed him.

 

More people came to the site the next day to aid in the search though now survivors were thought to be few if any in the smoking wreckage. Among them was Father Amiel Rodrigo of  Tumacacori Mission in Tucson. He offered Cort a drink of water.

 

 

“May I ask who you are,” he noticed the worn and discolored collar that Cort still wore.

 

“Father Cort Corbin, sir.” He answered.

 

“Father Cort!” someone called and Cort handed the cup back to Father Rodrigo and ran to help.
Later on there were no more survivors at the site and exhausted covered in smoke and grime, Cort began walking back toward Tucson. A wagon stopped and picked him up, a wagon from Tumacacori Mission.

 

 

Over the next two days Cort told his story at the mission. It was agreed he had suffered for God and that God had saved him for his work at the Esmond Station. He was forgiven his sins and taken in to live among them. Upon hearing the news he fell to his knees.
 
The next morning Ben, East and Egan arrived in Vails, Arizona a town sprung up around silver mining and named for the biggest landowner around, Walter Vail who owned Empire Ranch. Trailing along the outskirts of town they came upon Jincy.

 

 

Exhausted and hungry she broke into tears when she saw them approaching.

 

Ben pulled up quick, “Jincy…what are you doin’ out here?”

 

“I had no place to go,” she wailed.

 

“You went home,” East said.

 

“No…it’s not home anymore…it’s been sold. I…I couldn’t even get in the house. I heard you’d been arrested and I just…walked away.”

 

Ben dismounted and went to her, “Come on girl,” He set her up on his horse, “What the devil have you got on your back?”

 

“Your saddlebags.”

 

“You walked from Tucson with them damn saddle bags on your back, you coulda bought yourself a damn wagon.”

 

“I didn’t know…” she cried.

 

He mounted behind her after taking her bag and stashing it in the saddlebags. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do about you.”

 

East and Egan had been talking and looking over the ranch land around them. East rode up by Ben.

 

“Ben where are ya headed?”

 

“I’m goin’ to God damned Mexico if I live that long.”

 

“Well me and Egan gonna try this ranch here see if we can’t get on. Be a stop off till we get to Texas.”

 

“Go ahead do it East.”

 

“Luck to ya,” Egan called out as they road up the dirt road toward the ranch.

 

Jincy, fearing Ben was angry with her and not understanding it all, “Why are you so mad at me?”

 

“I ain’t mad at you, Jincy…but I think you need somebody to look after you, you ain’t doin’ so good on your own.”

 

“You’re going to take me with you?”

 

“Looks like I ain’t got no choice in the matter,” he moved his horse off down the road.

 

“You don’t have to…just put me down somewhere I don’t want to be a burden on you…”

 

He stopped his horse and took her face in his hand and kissed her, “Now will you shut up.”

 

The End

 

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