One Step Over the Border

by Stephen Bly

  “Let’s meet in private at the information center in thirty minutes. I need to discuss a few things with Davenport first.”

  “Can we talk without Davenport present?”

  “Yes, that’s possible.”

  “Do you have the authority to negotiate land exchanges?”

  “Yes. Is that what this is about?”

  “That’s all it’s ever been about.”

  Vines caught sight of the two bound men. “Who in blazes are they?”

  “Oak trees,” a little boy called out.

  Laramie and Hap lounged on the tailgate of the black Dodge parked in front of park headquarters. It had been two hours since Rosa entered the office with Regional Superintendent Ed Vines. All of her personal belongings from the cabin were stuffed in a galvanized laundry tub and a wooden Winchester rifle crate in the back of the truck.

  Rosa strolled out of the office with papers under her arm and a huge smile.

  “I take it you got what you wanted?” Laramie called out.

  She waved the papers. “A hundred and sixty acres along the Pecos River, adjacent to a bird refuge. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

  “Noisy, but nice,” Hap said.

  She slid in the middle of Hap’s truck. “Let’s get on the road before they run out and change their minds.”

  “What about the other demands?” Laramie asked.

  “They will designate the site as the ‘Historic Rodríguez Ranch’ on the park map and develop a picnic area at Ernesto Springs.”

  “Nice name,” Hap said.

  “I thought so.”

  “What happens to Davenport and the goon squad?”

  “Once I got these concessions, I didn’t press charges. I don’t want to spend six months down here on court cases. So, Davenport opted for early retirement and the Out West Development thugs got escorted out of the park.”

  Hap pulled up to the kiosk where Erika leaned out the window. “Look at this.” She held out a light pink T-shirt with rose-colored letters that spelled out Ponder Rosa.

  “Where did that come from?” Rosa asked.

  “Some tourist brought a dozen. She said they’re selling them all over.” Erika handed the shirt to Hap.

  He passed it to Rosa. “You know, it might be easier to start a campaign than stop one. When Oprah phones, we’ll have to tell her she’s too late.”

  Erika rubbed her upturned nose. “We’re going to miss all the activity. Normally, this is a slow time in the park. But we won’t miss Davenport.”

  “We heard he ‘retired,’” Hap said.

  “Yeah, but they retained the right to bring embezzlement charges against him later on. That’s him in that red Acura. They gave him an hour to pack his things and leave the park.”

  The Acura roared past them and headed north.

  When they crossed the line out of the national park, Rosa raised her clenched fist and shouted, “Yes.”

  “You won again,” Hap said.

  “Yep.”

  “How many victories does that make?” Laramie quizzed.

  “One hundred and twenty-two, but who’s counting? Of course, my next cause might be the most important of all.”

  “What’s that?” Laramie asked.

  “Helping you two find Hap’s Juanita. When I get to El Paso, I’ll contact my aunt Paula. She sends birthday cards to everyone on the Rodríguez side of the family. She’ll track all the Juanitas.”

  Laramie sighed. “That’s the unreal part. I agreed to this whole search thing because I was convinced there was no way to find Hap’s phantom Juanita. Now we’ve stumbled into a whole remuda of under-ear marks.”

  “Yeah, with any luck, before Christmas, Hap and I could be related.” She offered him a sly smile.

  “To tell you the truth, this quest has taken on a little less intensity,” Hap remarked. “It’s not the drivin’ force that it’s been in the past.”

  Laramie howled. “Are you saying you want Rosa to change her name?”

  “The thought crossed my mind.”

  “Mine, too,” Rosa murmured. “Was that a soft enough reply?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Geez, do you two want me to step outside so you can have some privacy?” Laramie said.

  Hap slipped his arm around her shoulder. “No need to do that… not until we stop the truck, anyway.”

  At the junction of Highway 90, Hap pulled over next to the Sold signs on the property at the southeast corner. “So, this is the place just bought by Out West Development?”

  “Oh, I got so excited about winning, I forgot to tell you,” Rosa said. “Davenport admitted that the whole fuss revolves around water.”

  “I’m not followin’ you,” Hap said.

  “Davenport didn’t want the Rodríguez Ranch for the park. He wanted it for himself. The Out West Development Corporation from New Jersey bought this property at the junction to install a ninety-thousand-square-foot water-bottling plant. After the state listed the water quality ratings, they wanted to exploit the springs at the ranch, haul the water down here, and bottle it. Then they could advertise ‘the purest water in the Lone Star State.’”

  Laramie surveyed the acreage. “That doesn’t make sense. This whole ruckus is over bottled water?”

  “It’s a big business,” Rosa insisted.

  “Not compared to casinos.” Laramie looked up and down the empty intersection. “And where would they get the employees to work way out here?”

  “Look, that’s what Davenport claimed. He said he was offered a five-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus and a 15 percent share of the company if he delivered the springs at the Rodríguez Ranch.”

  “I liked the story better without their ending,” Laramie said. “It lacks drama. Will the history books record ‘The Bottled Water War of West Texas’?”

  “We don’t have to mention that part in our memoirs. Wait a minute,” Hap shouted. “We’ll say we were involved in a classic battle over water rights. Yes!”

  Rosa laughed. “I don’t think Hap gets any more caffeine today.”

  “Hey,” Laramie said. “Drive around those billboards over there.”

  When Hap rolled the truck next to the huge, low For Sale sign, they spotted a red car.

  “It’s Davenport’s Acura,” Laramie said.

  “But where’s Davenport?” Hap questioned.

  “Who cares?” Rosa countered. “I don’t ever want to see him again.”

  Hap piled out of the rig. He circled the Acura, then opened the driver’s side. “No one around and the keys tossed on the seat as if to say, ‘Steal me.’ A lot of his personal things from the office are stacked in the backseat. It’s like he jist disappeared. Ain’t that somethin’?”

  “Maybe he hiked into that barranca to take a leak.” Laramie pointed to a deep ravine in the barren desert.

  “No one needs that much privacy,” Hap insisted. “Besides, after what Rosa did to him, he won’t be functional for a week. I say what we’ve got us here is a legitimate mystery.”

  “I think we should leave,” Rosa said. “This feels weird. Seriously, guys, this is the time to toss the cards in and walk away.”

  “Remember how you said adventures seem to come to me and you envied that? Well, here’s another,” Hap reminded her.

  “We’ve had enough exploits for one week, partner.” Laramie scrunched around and tried to stretch his legs. “Let’s get on to El Paso. I really don’t care what Davenport’s doing.”

  Hap prowled toward the ravine. “Then you two set here and twiddle your thumbs. I want some answers.”

  Laramie crawled out of the truck. “Come on, Rosa, he’ll need us to fight off the snakes or something.”

  “I’m not going down there. I have a lousy feeling about this. Trust me. This is not a good thing to do.”

  The dirt was soft, yellowish-brown and dry where they hiked down the edge of the steep ravine. They kneeled in the sparse shade of a creosote plant to survey the dry creekbed two hundred fe
et below them.

  Laramie waved at a clump of green bushes.

  “He’s diggin’ a hole.”

  “He’s got one of the cardboard boxes down there.”

  “Buryin’ somethin’?”

  “Evidence, perhaps.”

  “This is gettin’ more interestin’ by the minute.”

  “Maybe Rosa’s right. Maybe it’s time to walk away.”

  “No way. We’re goin’ to check this out. Besides, I’m doin’ this for you.”

  “Me? I said we should go on to El Paso.”

  “Yes, but for the rest of your life you’d regret not findin’ out what this is about. You’d lay awake nights, unable to sleep.”

  “Most nights I’m awake, unable to sleep, now,” Laramie said.

  They crept along the brush row as they watched a sweat-drenched Davenport dig deeper and deeper into the sandy floor of the steep barranca.

  “I think he wants to bury the whole dadgum car,” Hap whispered.

  Laramie tugged at Hap’s sleeve. “No one digs a hole that deep unless he’s looking for buried treasure. I just don’t care what he’s looking for. Let’s go back.”

  Hap pulled loose and strolled out of the shade of the mesquite straight at the laboring Davenport, waist deep in a large rectangular hole. “You plannin’ on puttin’ in a swimmin’ pool?”

  Laramie trailed up beside Hap.

  Davenport tossed down the shovel. “What are you cowboy idiots doing here?”

  “It seems to me you’re the one to fit the idiot label,” Hap jibed. “You got fired. You lost out on the big-money deal. Now you’re diggin’ yourself into a heart attack. Maybe we aren’t the dumb ones here.”

  “Oh, but you are the dumbest.” A deep voice boomed from the thick brush behind them.

  Laramie and Hap spun around. Ferguson and Munkk aimed Smith and Wesson .357 Magnums at their chests.

  “I’m killin’ the tall one right now,” Munkk threatened.

  “Not before he digs his own grave,” Ferguson said. “No one cheats Out West Development out of a profit. It’s too bad you didn’t bring that Mexican gal with you. Then we’d have four of a kind.”

  Hap watched the Smith and Wessons. “All of this over bottled water?”

  “Water?” Ferguson hooted.

  Davenport tossed his shovel. “You truly are cowboy idiots. The water plant was a front to launder drug money coming out of Mexico. With a plant guaranteed to show a profit, I could be a multimillionaire in a year.”

  “Now you’re going to be freakin’ dead in ten minutes,” Monkk growled. “Ain’t it something how life turns so quick? A couple hours ago we were tied to fenceposts… and now we get to bury all of you.”

  “It’s a good thing we called the Texas Rangers before we hiked down here,” Hap boasted.

  “What kind of morons do you take them for?” Davenport replied. “How could all these plans be ruined by absolute imbeciles? The Texas Rangers? Why didn’t you say the cavalry or John Wayne? Or the San Antonio Spurs? Nobody believes that story. This is not the way I envisioned my life’s end, between two Mafia hit men and Pancho and Lefty. I’m too savvy for this. I earned a master’s degree in forest management. No one is coming to rescue you. You’re as dead as I am!” His voice rose higher, like a wounded weasel’s.

  At the first shot from the cliff behind them, Davenport dove into the hole. Laramie rolled toward rocks to the right, and Hap sprawled behind the fresh dirt pile. Bullets flew off the cliff in rapid succession.

  Ferguson and Monkk returned fire. A half-dozen shots blazed.

  “There’s too many of them,” Monkk yelled. “Let’s get out of here before they bring in a helicopter.”

  “They actually called the Rangers?” Davenport shouted. “No one does that but some idiot cowboys!”

  Ferguson and Munkk sprinted toward a pickup parked at the north end of the barranca. Bullets from above chased them along.

  Davenport raised up to watch the fleeing gunmen.

  “Get down,” Hap screamed.

  The bullet that hit Davenport had already exited the back of his shoulder when the words blurted out. Blood puddled through his shirt, before he crumpled into the sandy hole.

  Both Laramie and Hap hunkered flat until the truck roared off across the desert.

  “I told you I didn’t like the sound of this.” Rosa’s voice floated down from the rim.

  After Davenport was evacuated by helicopter, it took two hours more for all the police reports to be filled out.

  The sun hovered low when they finally got on the road toward El Paso.

  Laramie leaned back and closed his eyes. “I’m still due for a quiet, uneventful day.”

  Hap rolled down the window. Warm air blasted his sweaty face. “Rosa, how did you learn to fire a carbine that fast?”

  “It’s a little trick I learned from…”

  “The KGB?”

  “No, from my brother, Milt. He’s a cowboy-action, quick-shoot guy. But I vote with Laramie. That’s enough excitement for a while.”

  “Oh, great, then we all agree,” Hap chided. “Nothin’ but lifeless activity for the next few days. We’ll eat at the Crunchy Truck Stop Buffet where you can’t tell the veal from the tapioca… listen to Erma Gluck sing the top ten hits of 1926… and drive forty-five miles an hour all the way to El Paso while we discuss famous land wars in China. We can recite Victorian poetry or debate the lastin’ influence of John Stuart Mill’s utilitarianism. How’s that for borin’? Is that what you two had in mind?”

  Laramie turned to Rosa. In unison, they shouted, “Yes!”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Like a wind waving through tall prairie grass, the cavvy of mares and foals followed the buckskin stallion over every rise that stretched across the west Texas horizon. Laramie and Hap galloped to the top of the treeless hill, then paused to watch the wild horses flee deeper into the heart of the military reserve. When the band stalled at a small muddy spring along the brown prairie, the cowboys waited.

  While Hap slipped out of the saddle to check Luke’s left rear hoof, Laramie quietly studied the much-creased note Annamarie had slipped into his hand as she kissed him good-bye in Del Rio. His eyes fell on the words, “I need time to understand my feelings. I have to be convinced that I truly can love you with the same depth and intensity that I had for Nate. You deserve nothing less…” Laramie knew he would be thrilled with any amount of depth and intensity of affection that Annamarie offered. Whatever she could spare would far exceed anything he had experienced.

  Hap swung back up in the saddle. “You studyin’ the map?”

  Laramie quickly folded the note and stuck it back in his pocket. “We should be getting close to the south fence, but the major didn’t seem like he knew exactly what was in here.”

  Hap surveyed the harsh west Texas desert. “He did know about the bomb fragments. I take it they fly over this military reserve, rather than march across it.”

  “I noticed he didn’t tell us, ‘Don’t touch anything that looks like a bomb,’ until after we signed the contract on this job.”

  “It was comfortin’ to learn they didn’t plant land mines in here.” Hap yanked out his bandanna and sopped off his face. “But an unexploded bomb is the same as a land mine, ain’t it?”

  Laramie nodded at the cavvy. “We’ll follow them close. If they don’t trip explosives, neither will we. That’s the theory, anyway.”

  As soon as the stallion broke for the next rise, the mares and foals thundered after him. Laramie and Hap spurred their horses and cantered down to the muddy spring, then up the other side. At the top of the hill, they spied the band as they dodged in and out of the scattered mesquite trees and creosote bushes. When the horses paused to graze and mill, the stallion positioned himself between the mares and the cowboys.

  “He’s ready to take us on,” Laramie said.

  “I don’t reckon he feels challenged too often. He’s a big boy.”

  “He’s a fine horse
and fast. Those mares have to gallop to catch up and it looks like he’s at a lope. I’ll tell you what, Hap. After we pen him, I’ll buy him from the army and you saddle break him for me.”

  Hap stood in the stirrups and stretched his legs. “If you want him, you break him.”

  “I’m not crazy enough to crawl on a horse that mean.”

  “So you’re lookin’ for some dumb cowboy to do the hard part?”

  “No, I hoped for a brave, reckless bronc buster to consider it a matter of cowboy pride that ‘there never was a horse that couldn’t be rode.’ I surmised he’d view this challenge as a wonderful opportunity to demonstrate his superior horsemanship and mental, not to mention physical, toughness.”

  “I ain’t bustin’ my butt breakin’ your horses,” Hap declared. He swung to the ground and pulled a rag from his saddlebag. He loosened the cinch and wiped down Luke’s back. “You know, summer is probably not the best time to be down along the border. Why didn’t we do this in the spring or fall?”

  “Because we have real jobs in spring and fall.”

  “This feels like a real job.”

  “Well, the pay’s good and the expectations low. You can’t beat that.”

  Hap tightened the cinch, pulled himself back up in the saddle, and tossed the rag to Laramie. “We get one thousand dollars each and all we have to do is try to round up as many mustangs as possible. If we can’t corner any at all, that’s okay. They just need us out here so they can take some satellite photos to prove to the public that they tried to save the wild horses before they practiced their bombing. That the way you see it?”

  “That’s pretty much it.” Laramie combed his fingers through his hatless, curly brown hair. “Don’t you love government jobs?”

  “I wonder, why didn’t the local cowboys jump at this good money?”

  Laramie stepped down to the ground, loosened the cinch on his saddle, then wiped his horse with the towel. “I think it has something to do with the other part of the instructions.”

  “Ahh, when we had to sign the indemnity waiver and then the major said, ‘Don’t go out there and get your fool head blown off like our last wrangler’?”