The bartender brought his glass. “Your beer, señor. Welcome to the Jupiter Sky Cantina. My name is Javier.”
Sammy finished taking a long pull off his beer. “Much obliged, Javier. I'm Sammy. That's good, cold beer.”
“Yes, señor. We make our own—and our own gin, too, with juniper berries. There are lots of juniper trees in Raton Pass.”
Sammy considered it. “I can't say I've ever had gin.”
“We have tequila and whiskey too, but we don't make it. Is more expensive. Imported.”
“I believe I'd like to know what those juniper trees taste like when they're fermented. Help put the prime on my appetite before I mutilate the Triple B Plate.”
“Señor?”
“Pour me gin, Javier, and another beer too,” Sammy said, and drained his glass in relaxed, satisfying swallows.
“Ahh … yes, señor.”
Javier poured the shot and Sammy took the glass and smelled the aroma. Then he sipped it, considering the flavor and quality and finding the bouquet of the juniper berry to be as he had imagined. He took the rest in a swallow and waited for the kick. “Whoa,” he exclaimed. “Rattle my spurs. That's got some bullwhip to it.”
“Another, señor? Is ten cents a shot or one dollar for the bottle.”
“Not yet. No telling where I'd end up if I had too much of that before I ride.”
“Then stay, señor. Enjoy the Jupiter Sky.”
“I've heard that before. Must be the company line.”
“Señor?”
“Ahh—that means muchas gracias, Javier.”
“Por nada.”
Annie Jordan came with Sammy's plate piled high, smelling and looking every bit as appetizing as she had advertised. “Here you are, cowboy. If you want more, just let me know.”
Sammy's eyes widened. “I'll break a sweat finishing this.”
“I hope you like it. Javier, give Mister Winds a drink on the house. Whatever he likes. See you in a bit.” She turned and started her furnace toward the hallway.
“Thank you, Miss Annie Jordan. I'll drink to your prosperity,” Sammy called to her, watching her locomotion as she steamed across the room.
“Just keep adding to it and you'll be toasting a good cause.”
“I think she likes you, Señor Winds.”
Sammy dug into the plate and instantly knew it was as good as he'd ever had. The beef brisket was salaciously tender, having been slow cooked in molasses and spices that made it delectable. The biscuits were hot mounds of perfected batter baked to a flaky delicacy with a honeybutter spread. And the beans were tender pintos in a light garlic sauce with fresh cilantro, diced onion, and jalapeno. He tried to pace himself and make it last, but the pace was driven by how good it was. It went quickly. He slugged the beer down in long, steady pulls to put out the fire of the jalapenos.
“Do you want Miss Annie's drink now?” Javier asked.
“I'd better … I'm on fire! Another beer, Javier. Is she the cook?”
“Yes. There are two other women who work for her, but they follow her recipes.”
“Man, she's got some know-how with cookin’.”
“Yes, she is very good in business also.”
The man put the knife on the bar beside Sammy. “Thar she is—ready to cut a trail any direction.”
Sammy picked it up and admired how meticulously clean the handle was, and the blade gleamed with shine. “It looks like when it was new—five years ago.” He held the blade to his cheek and slid the edge downward for an inch in a shaving motion, then felt the smooth where whiskers had been. “Just right … much obliged.”
“And to you also. May your trail be clear of dead enemies and your full belly warmed by the sun,” the man said, then walked away. Sammy thought on that for a moment now that his belly was full.
Two cowboys walked in and headed for a table near the window. One of them called out, “Javier, como estas? Two beers and a bottle of whiskey.”
“Hello, Señor Frank … Señor Thomas. Is good to see you,” Javier replied and began to draw the beers.
Sammy glanced back, certain from their dress and manner that they were ranch hands. They looked at him and sized him up the same way. He nodded and raised his beer slightly in a toasting gesture, then faced back toward the bar.
“Hey mister, do you cowboy?” the older of the two asked Sammy.
Sammy looked over his shoulder at him. “Yeah, I do.”
“We ride for the Rolling R.S. Ranch a few miles west of Trinidad. Turned up short-handed recently. You lookin’ for work?”
Sammy turned all the way around on his barstool to face them. “No, just passin’ through.”
“What outfit you ride for?”
“The Twin T.. a few hundred miles southwest of here.”
“I heard of it. Must be a big outfit.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“What brings you up here?”
“I'm headed for Denver.”
“You got another two hundred miles getting’ there. Come have a drink with us. We got a bottle.”
“All right. Much obliged.” Sammy walked over to their table. “I'm Sammy Winds,” he said, holding out his hand to the man he'd been speaking to.
“Frank Adams,” the man replied as they shook hands.
“Thomas Hedgerton,” the other said, shaking Sammy's hand.
Javier showed up with the beers and whiskey and three shot glasses. The men poured whiskey and Sammy began to roll a smoke.
“How many head you run down there?” Thomas asked.
“It varies. We average about ten thousand.”
“Ten thousand! That'd be a sea of beef on a drive. How many hands ridin’?”
“That varies, too. Usually between fourteen and twenty.”
Frank Adams looked amazed. “Hell, I thought we was big. We ain't but half of that. The boss knows his business, though, and he's a good man. It's a good ranch to ride for.”
“Well here's to the Rolling R.S. and good places to stake on.” Sammy held up his whiskey and threw it back in one swallow.
“Here's to the Twin T.. And to you, Javier!” Frank said, turning at the last to the bar, and then he and Thomas threw theirs back.
The stagecoach from Raton pulled up in front and the travelers climbed out. They made their way into the Jupiter Sky where a few went to the bar and quickly ordered drinks. The stage drivers and the others dispersed among several tables. With the arrival of the crowd, the two women working for Annie Jordan came out and took orders and served meals and drinks. The room was steady with chatter and eating and drinking for the next forty-five minutes. Then the stage loaded up and was gone as quickly as it had arrived.
Sammy and Frank and Thomas talked and drank through all of it as the afternoon meandered on and shadows grew longer through the trees, creeping up the long rock faces all about.
“Well, we better git while there's gittin’ left,” Frank declared an hour after the stage had pulled out.
“Let's git then,” Thomas replied in a fermented, languid drawl.
Frank nodded at the bottle that was in its final quarter. “Mister Winds, please regard that bottle and dispose of it with our good wishes and horse luck.”
“Yeah?” Sammy happily asked, feeling the afternoon's indulgence in glorious respite. It occurred to him that he hadn't seen Annie Jordan in quite some time, and he briefly entertained the idea of heading for Trinidad. But he knew the lateness of the day, and his present state, leaned toward taking an easy bed and enjoying the Jupiter Sky Cantina and Hotel. “Muchas gracias, amigos. I'll give ‘er a go. Have yourselves a good trip to Raton.”
“We'll do that little thing,” Frank replied, then asked, “You stayin’ here tonight?”
“I'm thinking on it. Another drink or two oughta settle it.”
“I know which way. Did you meet Annie Jordan yet?”
“Yeah, she was wearin’ pants and lookin’ good doin’ it. I ain't seen many women wearin’ pants.”
/> “I ain't ever seen her wearin’ a dress,” Thomas chimed.
Frank chuckled. “Well, there's been a lotta tryin’ with her … pants or otherwise. One's I know of have come up short. Too bad. She could run some whores and do a helluva business.”
Chapter 48
Sammy was halfway through a cigarette and looking out the window at Frank and Thomas disappearing from view on the trail heading south. She appeared like a fresh day. “Hello, cowboy.”
“Helloooo, Annie. I was wonderin’ what became of you.”
“I had a few things to tend to, but I'm all finished now.”
“Well sit down and have a drink with me. I owe you one.”
“I'd like that. Are you going to spend the night with us?” she asked as she sat down. She could see that Sammy was mildly intoxicated and extinct of any shyness. She wondered how his man ners would hold up.
“Yes, ma'am, Annie. I'm stayin’ put for tonight. And call me Sammy.” He smiled at her. “I like it more personal at this point. Like we know each other.”
“Okay, Sammy. Now we do know each other.”
“Well, then. What'll you have?”
“I like tequila.”
“All right. Javier, bring Miss Annie a bottle of your best tequila!”
Javier raised his hands with a look of mock exasperation. “Is only one kind.”
“The best it is then. She'll have it.”
Annie looked at Sammy with amazement. “A bottle? That's pretty ambitious, Sammy. You'll have to help me with it.”
“Well, as you may have noticed, I'm feelin’ ambitious.”
“Then we'll drink to ambition,” she said.
Javier brought the bottle and fresh glasses and Sammy poured her drink and then his. “To the Jupiter Sky and you, Annie,” He clicked his glass to hers.
She gave him a heated, soulful look. “Thank you, Sammy. To your ambitions and their fruitions.”
“Fruitions?” Sammy chimed, slightly surprised. “Yeah, I'm for that. Fruition!”
Sammy drank his shot, and she drank hers quickly, but in two, equally large sips. “I'm glad you're staying. You got the last room. Close call.”
Sammy was surprised to hear it was the last room. He knew other people had arrived since the stage had left, but had not paid much notice since he and the Rolling R.S. boys had been in the throes of storytelling and smoking and drinking. He glanced around at the other folks in the bar. “Good thing I decided now.”
She picked the glasses up and started to rise. “Come on. I'll show you around. Bring the bottle.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
They walked out the front doors into the shade of the yard. The sun had dropped behind the west peak and the clear blue sky above was shading darker with evening coming. She walked toward the barn at a leisurely pace with Sammy in tow. “Your horse in there?”
“I hope so.”
“Pepito!” she called to the barn.
A moment later the boy appeared in the doorway. “Si, señorita.”
“This man is staying the night.”
“Okay,” the boy said. “Do you want me to pull your rig from the horse, señor? We have a storage room. I can put it in there, or I can take your things to your room.”
“Pull my gear and put it in the storage room, save my saddlebags. Put them in my room.”
“You haven't signed the register. You don't have a room yet,” Annie playfully noted.
“You hear that, Pepito? Looks like I'll be sleepin’ in the barn with my horse.”
The boy laughed. “The hay is soft, señor.”
“Put his saddlebags in my office. He'll pick them up later.”
“Si, señorita.”
Annie began to walk. “Come on. I'll show you Stairway to the Stars.”
“On to the stars … on to the moon … across the Jupiter Sky!” Sammy cheered and walked with her across the yard and around the far end of the cantina. “You've got a lot of buildings here,” he commented, noticing several smaller log structures to the side and rear of the main building.
“There are eleven people who live and work here. Javier has a wife and two boys. Pepito you know. That's my cabin right there.”
“It looks nice.”
She led him back to the granite wall where the sign announced the stairway and the worn trail led easily upward. “How did you come to be here, Annie?” he asked as they made their way up the trail.
“I had a man—a gambler he was. We weren't married proper, but hitched just the same. He won himself a big stake and we were headed farther west when we came through here nine years ago. It was a provisions store then, just the main building. Angelo, my man, loved the spot and had a grand vision for it: cantina, hotel, gambling parlor right on the Santa Fe Trail. He made an offer to the old German couple who owned it, and they took it. I don't think they had done too well. We were young and wild, and this was a shot at a real enterprise. Anyway, we added on and the Jupiter Sky Cantina and Hotel was born. There's a wonderful spring here—I don't know how way up here, but it has all the water we could ever use.”
“Where's Angelo now?”
“Dead. He was shot by a gunslinger over a card game down in Trinidad. Angelo beat him at cards and the man accused him of cheating. Angelo could play cards, but he was no match for a fast draw.”
“I'm sorry.”
“It's been five years now. I just kept on and built the business.”
“Is business good?”
“Business is great. There's a lot of folks and goods that travel this trail. More every year—and they all stop here. They don't all spend money here, but just the stopping increases my prospects. And it's a big ole time here on Saturday nights. I get folks from Raton and Trinidad and ranch hands who come for the dancing and good times, just to get away up the country. The cantina does great. I rent my rooms. And my provisions store stays busy. I'm adding on more rooms this fall when the traffic slows down.”
“Well, you sure are somethin’, Annie. You've done a great job here.”
She looked at him, smiling. “Thank you, Sammy.”
They followed the trail its quarter mile, as it slowly rose along the granite face, then meandered in and out of the evergreen, and finally turned the corner of the granite, leading the last hundred feet to its end at a precipice. “Whoaa! Look at that,” Sammy said, gawking at the wooden stairway that spanned a thirty-foot chasm, fifty feet deep with jagged rock below. The stairs rose across like a long ladder to the top of a great boulder standing alone. “That must have been quite a job building that across there,” Sammy speculated, with just the thought of it bringing a more sober moment to his thinking. “How exactly did you do that?”
“We didn't build it,” Annie replied as she started up the stairs. The Germans built it. We just maintain it with varnish and screws.” Sammy followed her up the stairway, hearing the wood groan ever so slightly, but not for lack of strength. It felt solid enough to hold twenty at a time.
The top of the stairs fed them onto the beginning crown of the giant boulder. They walked up the remaining gentle grade of rock and stepped up onto the large wooden platform perched on the flattop far beyond the surrounding cliffs and mountainside with open air all around them. Sammy had the sensation of floating on a small island in the sky, the magnificent, panoramic view of the eastern plains far below, and the spine of the Rocky Mountain range disappearing into the twilight of the south. He slowly scanned it, all as his head turned from north to south. “What a grand sight that is. Sure enough a heart stopper.”
“Pour us a drink and get it started again.”
“I'll do it.”
They sat down on a bench at the front of the platform, and he poured the tequila as she held the glasses. “This sure is fine, Annie. I appreciate all the hospitality. You've been so nice to me right from the start, I wasn't sure …”
“What? If I was a whore?”
He looked at her, embarrassed even in his current condition that she so aptly
concluded his thinking, and he felt the fool.
She laughed. “No. I'm just a woman who likes men. But I'm very particular and infrequent about who I like and how much I like them. I liked you from the moment I saw you. That's unusual for me.”
“It's lucky for me.”
“I'm glad you think so. Are you married?”
“No.”
“You have a girl?”
“Yeah.”
“She's not here now … and she's not your wife. You're a long way from home.”
“Yeah, it feels like a long way. A lot's happened.
She lifted the glass to her lips and drank half of it. Sammy followed her lead and drank his shot.
“Why are you up this way?”
Sammy paused for a moment. “It's a long story.”
“It's a long evening.”
He rolled a smoke and she poured two more. Then he began to tell her about the man in the bar that he'd killed and the trip to Denver to collect the reward. She knew instinctually that it was all true as she listened with rapt attention. It was so much more than she'd ever expected. Then he told her about the cave and the Indians and Emily and Claire and Margaret, and his saddle partner, Blaine. “If he sticks to what he last told me, he'll be passin’ through here in a week or two.”
“I'll keep an eye out for him,” she replied. “You two are heroes for risking your lives and saving those women.”
“We didn't have much choice in it … the way it unfolded.”
“I get the feeling it wouldn't have mattered if you'd had a choice. You're the saving kind—all man.”
Dusk turned to night as they talked about each other's lives and looked at the stars, each feeling the slow simmer of desire. “We should get back now,” she finally said. “While we still can. I know my way, but it's dark and the drink is catching me.”
They made their way slowly back down the stairs and down the path, Sammy singing an improvised trail song and Annie attempting to follow along, laughing.
“Gooooodbye to the Jupiter Sky…. Adiooooos, my old amigo. Farewell, till the night comes again…. Then we'll ride, for the heavens my friend.”
Along The Fortune Trail Page 23