by Jake Logan
When he straightened, she slumped down in the water and slowly smiled at him. “Pull the rope.”
Later, they sat together at the large table in the kitchen with the handful of women who worked there and ate a great meal of barbequed goat, roasted ears of corn, beans, rice, and fresh fruit. Introducing them to the others, Dona sat at the head of the table in charge.
The dark-eyed woman still held her youthful looks and figure. Behind her mysterious eyes Slocum felt there rested a real bruja. But her witch qualities had always been to his advantage.
“What brings you to San Tomas?” she asked.
“Willa was kidnapped and being held by Leon Silva and I took her back from him.”
Dona nodded like she understood. “A very dangerous man.”
“Were you afraid dealing with him?” one of the doves asked.
He nodded. “I am always afraid messing with such cutthroats.”
Dona shook her head and spoke to Willa. “You must be very strong. Oh, I would have died from fear if they held me hostage.”
Willa put down her fork. “Trust me, I was very afraid.”
“Let our guest rest,” Dona said. “She has been though some very trying days. Our good amigo Slocum regained her freedom and he is the hero of the day.” She clapped, and the others did too.
He nodded in acceptance. “The important thing is she is safe now.”
“He is so hard a man to pin his bravery on,” Dona said and smiled.
Later the stable boy came by and brought him a message. Joaquin Johnny wanted to see him. He excused himself from Dona and Willa’s company in her quarters and went for his horse. The storms had cleared out, and stars danced in the heavens. He rode his horse down the rock-based road. His hoofbeats rang loud in the night’s stillness, the only sound save for some crickets.
Joaquin’s voice wafted out of the well-lit cantina when Slocum dismounted at the foot of the long stairs. Several horses and saddled mules were at the base standing hipshot in the night’s darkness. He tied his with them. At the top of the stairs, he paused at the open doorway to let his eyes adjust to the light inside. Several vaqueros were dancing around the floor with women in short skirts. Often, their hands slipped down to pat or feel a bare leg under the hem. Tequila and mescal freely flowed. The women grew loud and noisy; the men were full of oh-la’s to their flirting ways. Mucho fiesta time in San Tomas.
The bartender smiled at the sight of Slocum when he found his way to the bar through the crowd.
“A beer,” he said, and the barman nodded.
“Who are you, gringo?” a short, sharp-featured man next to him asked with a slur in his words.
“My name is Slocum.”
“Mine is Benito. Welcome to San Tomas, hombre. You want pussy tonight you must wait in line. On weeknights, twenty centavos would buy the best one in here for all night. On Saturday night, they want a peso for lying on their backs for such a short time.” He held his index finger and thumb barely apart. “Then they want more money or get your ass out.”
“I’ll wait till then.” Slocum took a sip of the foamy cap on his glass.
“Me too. Why is it that women have all the money in the world?”
“I don’t know.”
“Cause they got all the pussy.” Benito laughed until he cried. “You savvy, hombre, they have all the pussy too.”
“I savvy.” The music had stopped and Slocum excused himself to go speak to Joaquin.
“Ah, Slocum, you got my message.” Joaquin must have recognized something he heard.
“What did you learn?”
“Ken’yah was here today. She’s a young Apache woman. I asked her about the white woman. She said she would check for me and be back on Wednesday if the federales weren’t here then.”
“They come often?”
“No, but they do come here sometimes.”
Slocum put a peso in the cup.
“Gracias, mi amigo.” Then he motioned to his musicians that they must go back to work. “I will send you word when she gets here.” He put the guitar strap back over his head.
“Gracias. I will be at Dona’s.”
The man nodded and began to strum his guitar to the loud shouts of hurrah. A short woman jumped off the bar where she was seated, and before she could push her turned up skirt down, everyone looking saw her hairy cunt. A night to howl at the moon. They were getting it on in San Tomas.
Slocum recalled having sex with a woman in an alley during a fandango in Santa Fe. He asked her if she remembered who all she had treated to her body on such a night, and she laughed. “Hell, darling, I will always remember your big cock.”
He’d of bet she’d soon forgot him, because sure enough, not twenty minutes later, he watched her take another big bastardo by the arm and head him for the alley. So went the fickle-hearted woman of Latin blood’s generosity during a fiesta.
The patrons in the cantina had a too-good-enough start on getting drunk for him to start in with and enjoy one’s self. He slipped out the door and smiled to himself at the man who was bent over licking some gal’s bared tits. Both were so far out of it, he’d bet that they never even noticed his departure down the staircase.
On his horse at last, under the stars, he headed back to Dona’s.
In the courtyard, the boy took his horse and he thanked him. He could see Willa on the porch sitting in a swing.
Standing before her, he removed his hat and wiped his forehead on his sleeve. The night air was cooling fast. Then, with a smile, he accepted her offer of a seat beside her.
“Did you find a lead on her?” she asked.
“Joaquin says there is an Apache woman who might help me.”
“Where is she?” Willa put her arm on his shoulder when he slumped down in the swing.
“Oh, she’s from their camp in the mountains. She’s due back here midweek if the federales don’t come.”
“Will they come?”
“I don’t think they have a schedule, but Joaquin says they don’t come by—often.”
“What do we do until then?”
“Tonight?”
“Oh, that too.” She laughed softly.
He smiled at her. That was the first time that she’d laughed since he recovered her from the bandits.
She raised up and kissed him. “I’m ready.”
“So am I.”
He listened to the night insects and let her pull him to his feet. Maybe he was close to finding a way to retrieve the Salazar girl. Arms around her, he spun her up against him. “Let’s go wear out the mattress.”
“Yes,” she said in a smoky voice. “I can’t hardly wait.”
10
The next morning, Slocum drank coffee with Dona in the kitchen. A rooster crowed in the yard. Besides the two girls working in the spacious room preparing things for the day’s meals, they were the only ones up.
“The woman with you is very strong.” Dona sipped her coffee, but her dark eyes never left looking at him.
“Very strong. She’s fought Apaches.”
A smile parted her full lips. “I know, she told me. She said if she’d ever got hold of his pistol, Silva would be dead now.”
“Shame she didn’t reach it.”
“Yes, he is no good and bad for the mountains. He preys on the weak.”
“Why don’t the federales take him out?”
She looked at the ceiling. “Maybe he pays the right people.”
“Ah, the political. Yes. I understand.”
“This is a poor district. A politician has a hard time extracting enough money from the people up here. So a bandit like Silva pays him protection money. The federales look the other way, huh?”
“I see, my lady.”
“Do you think you can get that young woman away from Whey?”
“For a price. Yes. There are only a few of those bronco Apaches left. The U.S. Army will soon get permission to come over the border and Crook will sweep down on them.”
“Do they
know that?”
“Yes. They would much rather be held by the Americans than be in Mexico’s prison and mines. Down here the Apaches would be wasted. In the U.S. they might survive, and they know that too. Giving the girl back might weigh easier on the great white father when judgment day comes.”
“So time is the answer, huh?”
“Time. Yes. I’m more concerned about my contact getting here.” Slocum hunched his shoulders against the tight muscles.
“Who is that?” She placed the mug back on the counter.
“A young man who’s supposed to be my guide and the source of any money I’ll need to pay for her freedom.”
“What’s his name?”
“Estevan. In the mess with Silva kidnapping Willa, I forgot all about that he is supposed to catch up with us.”
“Where could he be?”
“Damned if I know. Oh, he’ll show up. He knows the mountains and he’s half Indian anyway. Besides, he’s really a pistolero for the Salazar hacienda.”
Dona laughed and reached over to squeeze his arm. “How do you get in such messes like this one? Who else could they hire to try and get some white woman out of an Apache camp? It is crazy.”
“I guess I am crazy too.”
“No. No. You are a good man. It is my own people who have lost their minds. This bandido Silva runs around like he reigns over these mountains. What help is our army?”
“I have no idea.”
“None.”
Two hours later, one of the kitchen girls came rushing in the house, out of breath. “The federales are coming!”
“Where are they?”
“I saw them and their horses at the cantina.”
Slocum, who had been resting in a hammock, came into the kitchen and joined the war cabinet. “How many?”
“Maybe an entire company,” the blanched-faced girl said, mopping the sweat from her face.
“What does that mean?” Slocum asked Dona.
“There is trouble is my first thought. They usually only have an officer and six men.” Dona rose and began to pace across the kitchen and back.
“What should I do?”
“Stay put. We will see who is the officer in charge. If I know him you are fine.”
“What if you don’t know him?” Willa asked, coming in the room drying her hair.
“Then we go to another plan.”
Everyone laughed, but Slocum could tell it was an anxious laugh.
“Then I’ll go back to sleep,” Slocum shook his head and started outside. “You girls figure it all out. It sure means the Apache woman won’t come into town and trade.”
Two hours later, an officer and four soldiers rode in the courtyard. From his hammock, Slocum could hear them talking.
“Ah, my lovely Dona.”
The man in charge talked precise Spanish. He was not from border trash. He told his men to stay there.
“Captain Hernandez. Welcome to my poor casa.” Dona headed him off at the front doorway.
“I must talk to the gringo who is here.”
“Ah. Señor Slocum.”
“Yes, yes.”
“What is wrong?” Dona asked him as they came toward the kitchen.
Slocum took his place at the back door.
“Ah, you must be the one called Slocum.” The shorter, stiff-backed officer began removing the fine goatskin glove off his right hand. “They tell me you know everything goes on below the border.”
“I don’t know about that,” Slocum said.
They shook hands, each took up a stool, and Hernandez sat across from him. “What is General Garcia doing?”
“I don’t know.”
“They tell me he has a cannon and several troops assembled.”
“I know nothing about the troops. A week ago, I did see some men transporting a caisson to the north.”
“Where was this?”
“In the desert, way west of the Madres.”
“What in the hell is he up to, do you know?” Hernandez frowned at him, looking deeply upset.
Slocum shook his head. “I thought he was on maneuvers for you.”
“No.”
“Is that why you are here?”
“To find you and try to find out what he was thinking. The U.S. Army didn’t hire him, did they?”
“No. Crook wants his hands on Geronimo, Whey, and the rest of them so bad that he would do nothing to upset the Mexican government, I can assure you.”
“That makes me feel much better. Gracias.” Hernandez looked relieved and forced a smile. “Why are you here, if I may ask? Of course anyone entertained by the lovely Dona—”
“Whey kidnapped a friend of mine’s daughter. I want to try and get her back—alive.”
“Are you sure he has not already eaten her?”
“Don’t mention that.” The notion disgusted Slocum.
“Well, the man is a cannibal among other things.”
“What about Garcia?”
“If he isn’t working for the U.S., then he must be setting himself up for a revolution.”
“I was with General Crook ten days ago. He has no such plans. He’s even watching the border so no guns can get in to them or the Apaches.”
“Where will you go next?”
“If I get her free, I’ll be out of here.”
“Could I hire you then?”
Slocum shook his head. “I don’t make a good spy.”
“You have military experience with such a weapon, no?”
“Yes, and I say stay away from the range of that damn thing.”
“How far?”
“Half a mile.”
“That is what I thought. I must go now. Your information is very informative. Gracias, señor.”
“Wait. Let Crook send some men and army scouts down here and he’ll end this Apache war.”
“I will talk to my commander.”
“Do that. We don’t want Sonora. We want to stop this border crossing and put them on reservations.”
“Good luck ransoming her. I must go now.”
That was good news, the sooner he and his trooper left the village, the quicker this woman might come back.
“Good day, Captain.”
Slocum strode to the front door and saw them off. The man wasn’t such a bad sport for a federal academy graduate. He might even be fun to team up with and do a few skirmishes with. There Slocum went again looking for more to get into.
Slocum decided there was a sign out in front—SLOCUM IS HERE. In the afternoon Estevan showed up, his horse on its last legs, and he looked like he’d been dragged through a knothole.
“What have you learned?” the man asked.
“Leon Silva whacked me over the head and kidnapped Mrs. Malloy.”
His eyes flew open wide. “Where is she now?”
“In the kitchen eating something.”
“Is Silva still alive?”
“Today, yes.”
“What about Estria Salazar?”
“We are waiting on an Apache woman to come to town to find out what she’s found out.”
“Dona, meet Estevan. The guide I have waited for.”
Dona smiled looking him over. “After you eat, we will ready you a bath. And if you like, someone to cut your beard.”
“I’d like both. Señora.”
“You can have both.”
“You remember Willa?” Slocum asked him when she joined them.
“Sí, good to see you, Señora Malloy.”
Later after lunch, in the midst of Slocum’s siesta, one of the kitchen girls knocked on Slocum’s door to wake him and give him the news some boy brought to the casa. He was needed at the cantina. Half asleep, he strapped on his six-gun.
“I’ll be back,” he said to Willa.
Sitting up holding the sheet in front of her nakedness, she frowned. “You need me?”
“I imagine I will only talk some more. I hope that Ken’yah is there to tell me something.”
“You be
careful.”
“I will.”
At the cantina, he dismounted at the base of the stairs, hitched the horse, and took the steps two at a time. Inside, the bartender gave him a head toss toward the back. Slocum thanked him and crossed the empty barroom. He parted the curtain and let one of the saloon girls out, then walked down the narrow dark hallway headed for the back door.
“Slocum?” Joaquin called out, and the man appeared in the last door.
When Slocum stepped inside the narrow room, he saw an Apache woman sitting on the cot and nodded to her. Then he noticed another person huddled under a blanket—who was she?
“This is Ken’yah,” Joaquin said, taking a seat on the chair.
Slocum nodded. “What does she know?”
“She wants some money.”
“For what?”
“For the return of the girl.”
“How much?”
“How much do you have?”
“Fifty dollars right now is about all I have on me.”
“I think she would be satisfied with that much. Pay her.”
“Where is the girl? Is she all right?”
Joaquin nodded toward the one in the corner and then he spoke to her. “Estria, this man will get you home safely.”
The girl under the blanket threw the cover back. “Do you know my parents?”
“Sí. I am certain they will be very pleased to see you.” How did he get her back this easy? His daddy always said never look a gift horse in the mouth, accept it and run like hell.
All the paper money he had on him he placed in the woman’s hands. She nodded. “This will feed the children.”
“Good. Keep the blanket cover on,” Slocum said to Estria. “I don’t want anyone to recognize you. My horse is at the foot of the stairs. Then we will go to a safe house, and when it is all clear I’ll take you home.”
“That would be very nice.”
“Joaquin, what do I owe you?”
The singer shook his head. “You don’t owe me a thing.”
“No. Señor Salazar will pay you well for this.” Slocum nodded in gratitude to Ken’yah, and then he guided Estria toward the door.