by Neil Hunter
Neither Bodie nor Victoria stayed to see the result of the fall. They moved quickly across the wide rim of the canyon, searching for a way that would lead them down to the comparative smoothness of the flatlands below.
By the time they had worked their way to the base of the high canyon wall it was getting dark. Bodie spotted a shallow cave beneath a rocky overhang and they crawled inside. The cave broadened and heightened beyond the entrance. It was sparse, inhospitable and cold, but in their exhaustion it offered at least a degree of comfort and protection.
“Before it becomes too dark for me to see,” Victoria said, “let me look at your shoulder.”
Bodie made no argument this time. His shoulder, though it had stopped bleeding, still hurt. His arm was stiff and he was feeling weak from the loss of blood. At Victoria’s insistence he sat down and allowed her to remove his shirt. He caught her gazing at the scars marking his body.
“I fall down a lot,” he told her dryly, and for the first time he saw a smile touch the corners of her soft mouth.
“I think also that you tell many lies!” She took the canteen and uncapped it. Tipping water onto her hands she washed and rinsed them. Bodie watched as she tore a strip of material from her underskirt. “You are very lucky, Bodie,” she said. “The bullet has come out. I will clean the wound and bind it. There is nothing more I can do for now.”
Bodie sat in silence as she worked, filling his mind with thoughts to blot out the pain. He was thinking about Lon Walker, wondering how the Kiowa was — if he was still alive. Damn! The whole thing had turned into one hell of a mess. Rojhas was dead. He didn’t know whether Lon was alive or not. And he was stuck out in the middle of nowhere with a hole in his shoulder and a girl on his hands. He began to wonder if any eventual bounty he might pick up would be worth all the damn trouble he was going through to get it!
Another puzzle was which side Victoria was on. Her attitude had changed considerably with Father Lucero’s explanation of Don Castillo’s actions. But was it only a temporary change? Was she liable to revert to her normal self? Hating the sight and sound of him! Despising him! He glanced at her, wondering.
“I think that will help,” Victoria said.
Bodie snapped out of his thoughts. The light was failing fast now, the setting sun casting a rich red flood of color across the land. Victoria’s lovely face smiled at him, features softened by the sunset.
“Thanks,” he said.
“What will we do now?” she asked.
Bodie pulled his shirt back on. “What we should be doing is looking for a place where we can get food and a place to sleep. I figure that’s enough for tonight. You got any suggestions?”
“I can only think of one place,” Victoria said. “The cabin of Tomas Silvana.”
“Who is he?”
“A shepherd. He has grazed his flocks in these hills for many years. From before I was born. He is an old man. Very proud and very independent. And he does not like my father. Nor is he afraid of him. Often when I have been out riding I have stopped by his cabin to talk with him. We are good friends. He would let us stay in his cabin.”
“How far is it?”
“In two hours we could easily walk there.”
“Well we ain’t in a position to be choosy,” Bodie said. “Let’s just hope your shepherd stays friendly long enough for us to get some sleep.”
Chapter Twelve
“Help yourself to more food, señor!”
Bodie nodded and reached for the bowl of lamb stew on the table before him. He spooned it onto his plate, realizing just how hungry he was, and there was no getting away from the fact that the stew was delicious.
“Tomas, may I have some more coffee?” Victoria asked.
“Si, Victoria.”
Tomas Silvana had expressed no surprise when Bodie and Victoria had walked out of the darkness to his tiny cabin. His reaction had been one of genuine pleasure at their company, and he had welcomed them with a show of hospitality that revealed his warmth and affection for Victoria.
“And what is your intention now, Bodie, my friend?” he asked after filling Victoria’s cup. “It will not be a safe place for you anywhere. Don Castillo has a long arm, and he has influential friends.”
It was Victoria who answered, putting into words the thoughts that had been filling Bodie’s tired mind. “We will face my father, Tomas. There is nothing to be gained by running away. It will not solve the problem.”
Silvana sat down and studied her young face for a long time. He was an old man, but he retained his sharp mind and the alertness of a much younger man. His brown face was lined, his hair white, but he missed nothing.
“This thing could be dangerous for you,” he told Victoria. “It is difficult for me to speak of your father in your presence — but I would warn you to be on your guard against him!”
Victoria smiled. “I have learned many things about my father, Tomas, in a very short time. They are unpleasant things, yet they are true. If I had been more attentive I would have realized the wrong things he has been doing long ago. I am paying for that foolishness now.”
“Victoria, I am sorry.” Silvana laid his creased hands over Victoria’s. “It is a sad fact of life that we often do not really know those we are closest to.”
“Whatever happens I must face my father. I must ask him about the terrible things I have heard!”
“You really think it’s the thing to do?” Bodie asked.
Victoria glanced across the small table at him. “Perhaps for the first time in my life I am doing the right thing.”
Tomas Silvana sighed, sitting back from the table. “When I was very young, the world was a beautiful place in my eyes. As I grew older my eyes grew wiser, and I saw the flaws in the world and my childhood dreams were shattered. As I became old my eyes dimmed and the flaws seemed to vanish. Now I see the world as I saw it as a child. Yet I know there are bad things happening, though I will often pretend that they do not exist. It is foolishness. We live in an imperfect world. Shutting our eyes to those imperfections will not make them go away. You are right, Victoria, to face your problems. In running away from trouble you only find, that in truth, you are running towards it.”
The old man stood up. He turned away from the table and picked up a battered old sombrero. He draped a blanket around his thin shoulders. From a corner of the cabin he took an ancient single-shot rifle, dropping a handful of shells in his pocket.
“We pushin’ you out?” Bodie asked.
Silvana shook his head. “A wolf pack has been troubling my sheep at the grazing pasture. Tonight I will be waiting for them.” He thrust bread and a portion of cheese into a leather pouch along with a squat stone jar. “Now I am ready.”
“Take care, Tomas,” Victoria said. She stood up and went to him, kissing him gently on the cheek.
Silvana smiled. “After that I could kill wolves with my bare hands. Only an old man could receive such a kiss!” He lifted a hand in farewell. “Sleep well, my friends.”
The door closed quietly behind him. Bodie poured himself another coffee, sat nursing it in both hands, silently watching Victoria. For no apparent reason he found he was picturing her stepping out of that cold stream, her naked young body firm and glistening, the beaded water sliding across her taut stomach into the dark hair below. She looked different now. Her dress was dirty and torn to shreds. Her thick hair lay in a tangled dark mass across her shoulders. But she still looked damn beautiful, he decided. It was a fact he couldn’t deny — or want to.
Victoria moved to the table and quickly cleared it. She rinsed the dishes in the large wooden pail that Silvana kept for such a purpose. Afterwards she secured the cabin door. Reaching up she put out the oil-lamp suspended from the low ceiling. There was still enough light coming from the fire blazing in the open hearth.
“It is very late, Bodie!” she said out of the shadows.
He glanced across to where she was standing beside the bed, and even in the faint light he n
oticed the gentle smile touching her lips. Victoria raised her hands and began to slowly unfasten her dress.
Bodie stood and went to her, studying her for a moment, and then he reached out and drew her to him. Victoria’s head tilted back as his mouth came down onto hers, soft lips parting, a whisper of sound coming from her throat as Bodie eased her onto the bed. Her loosened dress parted beneath his hands and Bodie felt the heated swell of her naked breasts against his palms. Victoria groaned as he explored the rising hardness of dark nipples, arching her hips against his body.
“This is crazy,” Bodie said. “Tomorrow I might be trying to kill your father!”
Victoria’s eyes shone in the glow of the firelight as she stared up at him. “Tomorrow is a long way away,” she said softly. “Yesterday I hated the sight of you, and I would have killed you if the chance had come my way. Now I am sure of nothing — and who knows what tomorrow might bring! I am only certain of this moment and what I wish to do with it.” She smiled suddenly, her face relaxing and her youthful beauty almost dazzling him. “We have come together, you and I, by circumstance, so we must accept the situation. Also I am curious about you, Bodie.”
“Oh?”
“I offered myself to you once before and you refused me. No woman likes to be refused.”
“Don’t think I didn’t consider it. Trouble was you chose the wrong time and place.”
Victoria eased herself from beneath him, and Bodie watched her slip out of her clothing. Naked she turned and faced him.
“And what of this time, Bodie?” she asked.
Bodie slid his hands around her smooth hips, drawing her close. She let herself fall against him, her hands eagerly loosening his clothing.
“I figure this is as good a time as any,” he said finally. Victoria gave a gentle, hissing sigh as he lowered himself against her. She curved her supple form to his, thighs sliding over him, drawing him down to where she was ready and waiting to receive him.
Bodie woke suddenly blinking against the brilliant sunlight streaming in through the cabin’s open door, and he lay for a moment, held by the lulling comfort of the warm bed. He was tempted by a remembrance of the previous night. He sat up as he realized Victoria was not beside him. The fire had been rekindled and a bubbling pot of coffee stood over the flames. Where the hell was she, he wondered. He swung his legs out of the bed and stood up. He felt stiff and his left shoulder still troubled him. He hadn’t slept all that well. The bed wasn’t all that big, especially as he’d been sharing it with a restless and surprisingly energetic young woman. He pulled on his clothes, stamping his feet into his boots, wondering if last night’s episode was an indication he might be getting old! He grinned. The youngest old man in the whole Southwest! He crossed to the door and stepped outside.
Victoria was standing out in the open, her back to him. She was watching two riders coming down off a distant ridge. Following behind one of the riders was a stumbling figure. A man on foot, his hands tied, and a rope around his neck leading back to the rider.
“That’s the old man,” Bodie said, anger rising in his voice.
Victoria turned to look at him. Her eyes were moist with tears. “See what they have done to him, Bodie!”
“You know those riders?”
“Si. Butler and Radigan. Two of Preacher Kane’s Comancheros!”
Bodie stepped back inside the cabin. He picked up his rifle and the Colt.
“Maybe you ought to go inside,” he suggested.
Victoria shook her head. “No! The time for walking away is past.”
Bodie moved to her side. He took his Colt and pressed it into her slim hand. She took it without question, holding it so that the folds of her dress concealed it.
The riders came up the gentle rise towards the cabin. As they neared the place Bodie saw that they both held their guns in their hands. He judged Butler and Radigan for what they were — a pair of ten-to-the-dollar hired guns, the kind liable to be more vicious than professionals skilled at their trade. Even so he eyed them with caution. It only took a slip on someone’s part to start trouble that could only end in sudden, violent death.
Victoria gave a shocked cry. Before Bodie could stop her she had run towards the old man on the end of the rope. Tomas Silvana looked as if he had been savagely beaten.
“Hey now, honey,” one of the riders said. “I don’t think you should be going near that old feller.”
Victoria ignored him as she reached Silvana. She made the old man kneel down. “Why have you done this to him?” she asked angrily. “Tomas is an old man. He bothers no one. What does such a cruel beating achieve? Tell me, Radigan!”
The one called Radigan glanced at Victoria briefly, his expression one of surly indifference. “If I was you, Señorita Castillo, I would shut my mouth an’ do it damn quick!”
“Never mind her,” the other rider said. “It’s him we come for!”
Radigan grinned, his teeth gleaming white against his brown, unshaven face. “You figurin’ on using the rifle, mister?”
“I don’t carry it to lean on,” Bodie said. “Whether I use it is up to you!”
The second rider — Butler — gave a ragged laugh. He leaned across his saddle and shook his head. “Hell, he don’t look all that tough to me, Joe. Dirtiest saddle tramp I ever laid eyes on.”
“He is more man than you could ever hope to be!” Victoria snapped, and then she flushed at Butler’s knowing leer.
“Well now,” he said. “Sounds like the little lady’s been lifting her skirts and offering round her favors, Joe.” He twisted round in his saddle. “Hey, honey, you got any left for me and…”
He never completed the sentence. There was only time for a brief moment of surprise as he saw the heavy revolver in Victoria’s hands, and then it exploded with sound, the hard recoil almost snatching it from Victoria’s grasp. The bullet hit Butler in the throat, angling upwards through his skull, blowing flesh and bone clear as it exited. Blood gushed from the ragged hole in Butler’s throat, soaking the front of his dirty shirt.
Radigan stiffened at the sound of the shot. Even as he raised his gun he glanced back over his shoulder — a purely responsive action against the sudden shot — and in doing so he gave Bodie all the edge he needed.
Bodie tilted the muzzle of the Winchester up and put two shots into Radigan’s body. He heard the gunman yell, and then Radigan was falling out of his saddle, blood seeming to erupt from his torn flesh. He hit the ground on the far side of the horse, his face smashing against the ground with a meaty sound. Blood spurted from his mouth and nose. Radigan twisted in agony, one arm and hand waving uselessly in the air as his shattered nerves lost control. Bodie crouched, shooting under the horse’s body, putting another bullet into Radigan’s bloody body. Radigan jerked, his mouth spitting blood, and he rolled over onto his back and lay still.
Bodie moved to where Butler sat hunched on the ground. The top of the man’s head was an ugly sight and Bodie saw there was no danger from the man.
He saw Victoria freeing Tomas Silvana from the ropes. The old man spotted Bodie and smiled through the dried blood caking his face.
“Though you did not do it for me, my friend, I thank you for killing those two,” he said.
Bodie helped the old man to his feet. “They needed killing,” he said, then glanced across at Victoria. “You all right?”
She nodded, but he could see the scared look in her eyes. “Don’t think about it,” Bodie told her. “They were working up to killing somebody. We just got to it first.”
Inside the cabin they got Silvana seated at the table. While Bodie got the old man a drink Victoria began to doctor the old man’s battered face.
“I am sorry I almost caused you to be caught,” Silvana said.
“Hell, we should be sorry for getting you involved.”
“You will still go through with what you decided last night?”
Bodie nodded. “Yeah. Sooner or later our luck’s going to run out if we keep runni
ng. And I can’t just walk away with Lon Walker in trouble.”
Silvana sighed. “If I were a younger man I would gladly go with you!”
“If you were a younger man I’d damn well take you!” Bodie said.
Victoria took the old man to his bed and got him settled down. Feeling in the way Bodie took a cup of coffee and went outside. He squatted in the dust just beside the door, his back to the cabin wall.
He stared at the dark shapes of the dead gunmen, and the darker stains of their blood on the ground. Already flies were gathering. He could hear the droning buzz of the insects. The way things were shaping up a few more would be dead before this was over.
He heard a soft sound as Victoria came out of the cabin. She knelt beside him. For a moment her gaze was held by the two bodies, then she turned her head away.
“To see death come in such a way is a terrible thing,” she said. “Is it really true that such things were done to the people of Lon’s village? By these wild men who work for my father?”
“Seems so.”
Victoria shook her head. “You must hate my father very much.”
“Never give it much thought. When I came down this way I was looking for Preacher Kane and his bunch. I didn’t know they were mixed up in your father’s business until later. By then I was involved with Lon and it had gone too far for me to back out.”
“And now he is your enemy too.”
“It’s the way the cards are dealt.”