Love Child Page 3

  Richie said, “I don’t think Mom ever married. She had the name Hanson all my life. Besides telling me you were a good man, the only other thing she told me was the two of you couldn’t live together because of her family. I’ve seen the family tree in her Bible. She had Richard Hanson, Senior listed as my father.”

  “Richie,” said Slim. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know about you. If I had, I would have found a way to convince your mother to marry me. We might not have been accepted by her parents but we would have been happy together.”

  “You know the ironic thing, Pa?” A big smile spread across Slim’s face as he heard his son acknowledge him as his father. “Her parents wouldn’t accept her anyway because they said she had a gringo half-breed for a son.”

  Slim’s eyes narrowed into slits and he took a deep breath. “What kind of people would turn their back on their own daughter? I’m sorry to say this about your grandparents, Richie, but I think they must have been mean people to treat you and your mother that way.”

  “Richie,” said Charlotte. “Tell us more about your life. I want to hear about your mother and how the two of you got along.”

  Richie turned pensive and thought for a few minutes and then started to speak about his childhood.

  Chapter 4

  LAREDO, TEXAS

  Hey Ma,” shouted Richie. “Why can’t I have a pony like the other kids?”

  “Now, Richie,” Marie replied, “You know I’d get you one if I could afford it. But we just don’t have enough money to spend on things we don’t really need. Besides, you can ride the buggy horse anytime you’d like.”

  “But Ma, it’s not the same. We don’t even have a saddle for the old nag.” Richie stomped through the house showing his displeasure over his mother’s words.

  It was certainly difficult raising a son by herself. Marie was able to keep them in a rented house in town and put food on the table from the money she made as a dressmaker. He reputation was widely known throughout Laredo. There was no shortage of work but even working seven days a week, she made just enough for her and her son to survive.

  When she was expecting Richie, she took a buggy back to her home near Monterey in Old Mexico. By the time she arrived, it was obvious she was going to have a baby. Her parents shamed her and said she had brought disgrace on the family. They talked a lot about their station in life and how the Mexican Aristocracy, as they put it, were above such behavior. They told her she could stay the night but after that she was to leave and never return.

  Marie traveled back to Texas settled in Laredo because it was the first town in the United States she came across after leaving Mexico. She thought about returning to San Antonio and letting Slim know about her condition. But she feared he would also see her as a fallen woman just as her parents had.

  Richie was born just a few days after arriving in Laredo. She was grateful that her mother had given her enough money to survive for a few months after his birth. But she knew she would have to find a job or some way to make a living. She didn’t see how she could work and still care for Richie.

  The only skill she had that she felt was marketable was her sewing. From an early age, Marie had made all of her own clothes. She even made clothes for her mother and father. As an only child, her parents doted on her and expressed great pride in her skills as a seamstress.

  In Laredo, she hung out a sign on her porch that simply said, “Experienced Seamstress. Ladies Dresses Custom Made.” Since her rented house was on the main road at the edge of town, many people passed it. It wasn’t long before she had all of the work she could manage while still being able to take care of Richie and play with him each day.

  The school was almost directly across the street from her house. When Richie started school at age five—a whole year earlier than the other children—she could watch him from the time he left her house until he was inside the schoolhouse. Richie was a good student and really enjoyed studying and learning. Marie impressed on him that his education was the key to being able to do anything with his life he wanted.

  Being younger than the other kids, Richie had his share of bullying. Marie wished he had a father who could teach him how to take care of himself. The best she could do in teaching him to defend himself was to tell him to run straight home just as fast as he could if someone started to mistreat him. That earned him the reputation of being a momma’s boy, a moniker he carried until he was about ten.

  By age ten, Richie was a whole head taller than the other boys his age. Actually, he was taller than most boys in school. One of the boys who had bullied Richie throughout the previous five years started picking on Richie again. But this time, Richie doubled up both fists and hit the boy several times in the face. Richie got sent home from school because fighting was against the rules. However, as soon as the other students were dismissed, the teacher came to tell Marie what had happened.

  “Mrs. Hanson, I’m sorry I had to send Richie home from school today. He knows fighting is strictly against the rules.” The teacher paused as Richie entered the room. “But Richie, I want you to know I’m proud of you. You taught that bully a lesson. He’s been picking on you for years. And I don’t think he will ever pick on you again. After word gets around to how you took care of him, I doubt you will have any problem with anyone else.”

  Richie smiled as his mother hugged him and the teacher excused herself to return to the schoolhouse. Marie was proud of the young man he had become. She started thinking about her parents in Mexico and wondered if they would change their minds about her and Richie and see the error of their ways.

  When school dismissed for the summer, Marie and Richie loaded their buggy and headed out to Mexico. Monterrey was about an eight-day trip. The summer heat was relentless but Richie never complained. They looked forward to being able to cool off in the shade of the trees surrounding the ranch where Marie had lived until she became pregnant.

  They arrived at the ranch and were warmly greeted by several of the workers. Richie climbed down and put his hands on his mother’s waist to help her down. Just as Marie’s feet touched the ground, her mother appeared in the doorway and shouted, “What do you think you are doing? Get back in that wagon and leave here immediately.”

  “Mother,” pleaded Marie, “I want you to meet your grandson. This is Richie.” Richie pulled off his hat and took steps toward his grandmother.

  “You stop right there. You are not my grandson. You’re a gringo half-breed.” Then she turned to Marie and using all of the venom she could muster said, “And you are not my daughter. Leave here at once or I will have you thrown out.”

  Richie set his jaw and doubled up his fists. Marie took him by the shoulder and turned him toward her. “She’s not worth it, son.” Then addressing her mother, Marie continued, “You will never see either of us again.”

  They climbed in the buggy and Richie turned it back to the road they had just traveled. “Why do they hate us so much?” asked Richie.

  “Because she can’t stand the thought I would ever love your father since he was white. Her hatred for me has poisoned her mind. She will not allow herself the possibility of getting to know you, much less loving you because of her racial hatred.”

  Marie turned to Richie as he continued driving the buggy off of the ranch and back to the main road. “Richie, don’t ever look down on someone because of the color of their skin or because they are in any way different from you. I think the fact that everyone does not look alike makes the world a much nicer place. Just think how dull it would be if every boy looked like you and every woman looked like me.”

  Richie laughed. His mother had a way of explaining things so that they made sense. That simple lesson would serve him well for the rest of his life.

  Chapter 5

  Richie had just turned fifteen and completed his education in Laredo. He thought about going to college as his mother wanted him to but thought he would take a few months off and work so he would have money for school. Marie told him that
was not necessary since he had gotten a full academic scholarship to Baylor University in Independence, Texas.

  But Richie wanted to stay a few months longer and had hoped to be able to help his mother with some of her living expenses. One afternoon, as he was coming home from his job at the dry goods store, he heard some commotion in the house. As he opened the front door, he saw a man slap his mother and yell, “Where is it? Where’s your money?”

  The man was tall and thickly built. He wore a tan shirt and a dark brown hat that was so deeply creased that the brim came up high on the sides and pulled down sharply in the front. The top part of the man’s right ear was missing and there was a scar from his ear down his cheek.

  Richie started for the man when the stranger pulled a gun and shot Marie in the chest. The man released his hold on her and she fell to the ground. Richie went to his mother’s side to try to help her.

  “Ma! Ma! You’re going to be all right. Mother! Mother!”

  As he was shouting, the intruder hit Richie in the face with his gun, slipped out of the house, mounted a horse, and galloped away.

  Richie was stunned by the blow but retained consciousness. He picked up his mother’s head and cradled it in his arms.

  “Ma!” said Richie, through tears that were streaming down his face. Richie knew his mother’s life was over. She was not breathing and her eyes were still open but not focused on anything. He wept bitterly as he held his mother’s head in his lap.

  “No!” shouted a woman from the door. Richie turned and saw the woman who lived next door. “No! Marie. Tell me she’s all right.” She ran to her body and cried without restraint. “Somebody killed Marie. Why would they do that? Marie never hurt anyone?”

  She moved over to Richie and took him in her arms. “Poor Richie. Why would anyone hurt your mother?” Richie continued crying and holding his mother’s head. A few minutes later the sheriff came in looking for the source of the gunshot. He pulled Richie away from his mother.

  “Richie, what happened here?”

  “He killed her, sheriff! That man killed Ma.”

  “Who killed her, Richie?”

  “Someone I’ve never seen before. It was a big man that was missing part of his ear and had a scar on his face.”

  “That sounds like Holloway. Jasper Holloway. Is that who did it?”

  “I don’t know sheriff. I don’t know his name. All I know is he was shouting for Ma to tell him where she kept her money and then he shot her. Why would he do that? Ma didn’t have much money. Everyone knew we were poor. Why would anyone want to hurt her?”

  Richie continued to cry as neighbors gathered at the door to see what all of the commotion was about. Over the next few minutes, the undertaker came to come get Marie’s body and the priest from the neighborhood church arrived. When Richie saw the priest he ran to him and hugged him.

  “Someone killed my ma, Father. Why would anyone want to hurt her?”

  “My son, I do not have the answer to that question. All I know is your mother is with God. She is all right. Richie, we are the ones who are hurting now. But your mother is not hurting. She feels no pain.”

  Richie continued clinging to the priest with his tears flowing down the back of the old man’s robe. “You cry all you need to, my son. I am here for you. And the whole congregation is here for you. We loved your mother very much. The two of you were at mass every week. I know she is with God now.”

  The rest of the day was a blur for Richie. His thoughts vacillated from anger toward Holloway for murdering his mother, to fear about how he would make it in life without her, to uncertainty about what he was going to do in the future. The sheriff and the priest took care of the funeral arrangements. Richie agreed for his mother to be buried the next day in the Camposantantos Cemetery, which meant Saint’s Fields.

  After the funeral, Richie’s thoughts turned toward finding the man responsible for ending his mother’s life. Richie found out he was a former drifter who had moved to town about three months earlier. No one knew much about him or where he came from. But he was known for cheating at cards and getting into gunfights—all of which he won.

  Richie didn’t know the first thing about tracking someone or where to start looking for Holloway. His mother had an old rifle. He had only shot it a few times and knew he was no marksman. Richie went to the livery and traded the buggy and buggy horse for a saddle horse complete with rigging. The proprietor made no secret of the fact that the horse was rather old and couldn’t be ridden but a few miles a day. But Richie didn’t have enough money to buy a better horse. He needed to use the money he had to find Holloway.

  After about a week of aimless wandering and asking if anyone had seen Holloway, he decided the only thing he could do was head to Bandera. He recalled his mother telling him if anything ever happened to her, he was to go there because he had some relatives in the area.

  Chapter 6

  BANDERA, TEXAS

  John Crudder listened to the account of the murder of Marie Hanson, he became visibly agitated. Charlotte saw the change in him and knew he was thinking it was time for him to step in. She laid her hand on John’s knee and turned to Richie.

  “It sounds like you had a wonderful childhood, Richie,” said Charlotte. “I’m sorry your mother got killed. That must have been so hard on you.”

  Richie’s eyes filled with tears. He looked over at Slim and saw he was crying hard as well. Silent sobs emanated from both of them.

  “I’m so glad you came here and found us,” said Charlotte. “We will always be your family. Nothing will ever change that.”

  “Richie, I know I said you would bed down in the bunkhouse. But that was before I knew you were my son. Charlotte,” Slim continued. “Would it be all right with you if Richie moves into your old room?”

  “Of course it will, Daddy. I don’t use the room any more and it will be perfect for Richie. Well, it’s almost perfect. I think we need to do something about yellow walls and the frilly curtains. And I don’t think a canopy bed is fitting for a young man like Richie.”

  “It’s settled then,” said Slim. “Richie, this afternoon, we will get you moved into your room. Charlotte, would you mind going to town later and ordering a proper bed for him?”

  “Of course I don’t mind, Daddy.”

  “And get some paint that is more masculine. And while you’re at it, get whatever else he will need to make this his home.”

  Richie smiled in disbelief. How could he have so many changes have taken place in just one day? He found his father. Discovered he had a sister and a brother-in-law. And even found out he was an uncle and had two adorable nieces.

  As Claire and Cora played chase, Charlotte took Slim to her old bedroom so she could tell him of the changes she wanted to make. Slim knew it was a waste of time for him to listen. He didn’t have an eye for decorating but Charlotte was like her mother. She instinctively knew exactly what needed to be done. Slim’s job was to utter things like, “That’s a great idea,” and “I’m so glad you thought of that.”

  John and Richie kept their seats and nursed their cups of coffee that had long since gotten cold. Richie could tell John had something on his mind but he wasn’t sure what so he just continued to fain interest in the coffee.

  Finally John spoke. “What all did you find out about Holloway?”

  “Nothing really other than what I’ve said. He seemed to be a no-account drifter when he showed up in Laredo. I couldn’t find anyone who even knew if he had any friends. It seems he just appeared one day and started playing cards and drinking in the saloon. They say he was loud and mean and when anyone accused him of cheating—and that evidently happened a lot—he would sucker the poor man who accused him into a gunfight and kill him.”

  John continued asking questions about Holloway. He was also interested in what Richie had found out while he was trying to track him.

  “When I went to the sheriff’s office, I found there was a wanted poster on Holloway. The sheriff said he ha
dn’t noticed the poster because he and so many other posters of outlaws.”

  “What was he wanted for,” asked John.

  “The poster said cattle rustling and horse theft. The sheriff said only real lowlife people steal cattle and horses.”

  “He had that right,” said John. “Were you able to keep the wanted poster?”

  “No. I wanted to but the sheriff said it was the only one he had and he needed to keep it.”

  “Richie, I want you to think hard and tell me everything you can remember about the man who killed your mother.”

  Richie thought for several seconds. “The first thing I noticed was he was Mexican. That’s not much help in Laredo since most people there have skin much darker than mine.”

  “That’s good,” said John. “What else did you notice? How tall was he? What was he wearin’?”

  “Well, I guess he was a bit taller than me and I’m near about six foot.”

  “What about his face? Was there anything that stood out to you?”

  “Only that he looked real mean. He had kind of a sneer on his face. I could tell he hadn’t shaved in a while but his beard was not thick. It had gaps in it and his mustache was real scrawny.”

  “Did he have any distinguishing marks? Anything that could help identify him?”

  “He was missing part of his ear and he had a scar down his face.” Richie paused. “But it looked like he had a spider on his hand. I looked at him holding the gun on Ma, and it looked like a spider had crawled up his hand.”

  “Was it a spider, Richie, or did it just look like a spider?”

  “Oh it was a spider all right but it looked like it had been drawn on his hand.”