by Jake Logan
“I see you have it all. We will be like an army, huh?” She took the last two long guns from him and set them against the wall.
“We’ll deliver her anyway.”
“Do you expect much trouble?”
“I am simply preparing for it.”
“Yes. We’ll be prepared.”
Estria joined them, sweeping the wave of dark hair back from her face and looking over the courtyard full of horses and mules. “You go to no small expense.”
“It’s your money. It’s my job to get you back there.”
“Oh. Slocum, I appreciate all you have done for me.”
“When you’re back at the hacienda, you must see that the bills at the store is paid. Plus, the blind musician Joaquin and Dona as well.”
“I will take care of them and be certain they are paid.”
“Good,” he said. He noticed for the first time how drawn she looked—the Apaches’ lack of food had no doubt taken several pounds off her that she didn’t have to lose. Back home, she’d recover quickly, but that sanctuary was perhaps two hundred tough miles away.
His people were busy feeding the mules and horses when Dona joined them.
“One thing I shall leave you,” Slocum smiled at her. “Plenty of horse manure.”
“It will be fine. We can pile it out behind the stables for the fall garden plantings and the rain will wash the rest away.”
“We’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”
“You have never been in our hair.” Dona hugged his arm. “I love Willa. She would be a good woman for you to settle down with. I know. I know. You think you can never do that. But others have vanished before you.”
“We do thank you.” He wanted off the business of talking about him settling down. That remained an impossible task he was not prepared to face—no way could he settle under any roof with those relentless deputies on his heels.
“Still, we are grateful,” he said.
“Come by when you are near here, or just come by. We all love you here.”
“Thanks again.”
“I better go see about supper. We are having a feast tonight. You will love it.”
“Always. Always.” They parted and he went to see about a mule’s hoof that the stable boy had noticed.
After examining it, he assured the young man it was only a small hoof crack and shouldn’t hurt him. Then he went on to the house to wash up. He passed Estevan in the hallway and congratulated him on his excellent job of gathering it all in so short a time.
The man acknowledged his words and excused himself. He had things he must do.
Slocum went on, washed his hands and face at the bowls and towels set out for the task. Feeling some refreshed, he went in the great room and took a glass of wine that Willa delivered. Hard to fathom, he’d be on the road with all his train at this time the next day. Damn.
In the morning, he met the four new men in the lamplight. Cordova, the tallest of them, maybe five-nine. Trevino, the oldest, with some gray in his hair when he removed his sombrero and shook Slocum’s hand. Diego, the youngest, but also the hardest-looking, and Jimenez, the round-faced burly one with a big smile.
“If no one told you,” Slocum began. “We are going to the Salazar hacienda and deliver his daughter Estria to her parents. She was taken captive some weeks ago by the Apaches and we ransomed her from them. They may try to take her back. I have had words and trouble with Leon Silva and his band of cutthroats coming in here. You know there are more gangs of bandits than that. Our job is to avoid any trouble and get Estria home as quickly as possible. You savvy greed, right?”
“Sí.”
“We have to prevent it.”
They nodded. Willa handed out rifles and cartridges.
“We will ride out in thirty minutes. Who is the best scout?”
“Trevino,” the other three said.
“Trevino, you leave now and scout ahead. We will join you at the Gap.”
“Ah, sí. You boys can tend those mules.” He mounted up and slapped his short coupled mountain horse on the butt with his rifle to make him get around. “Señor Slocum, I will meet you and the train at the Gap.”
Slocum waved to him and he was gone. Good, he had an advance lookout. Boosting Willa on her horse, he helped Estria too. Her in the saddle, he noticed she was crying in the candle lamplight.
“Don’t cry now. It will be all right.”
“But I will truly miss my new amigos and Dona.”
“So will we.” He clapped her on the leg and went to see about the rest. Twenty minutes before first light, they filed out. He was the last to leave the courtyard, and waved to Dona and the crew as he rode out.
Mules complained. Fresh horses sidestepped in their impatience to move along faster. One of the hired guns was using his quirt on the stubborn pack mules that tried to lag. Soon, they learned that to hesitate would get them busted, and any rider coming by was enough to make them tuck tail and lunge forward.
Estevan rode in the lead and the two women with him. Slocum had assigned Willa to be with her—the men could drive the mules. Two jerked lead ropes, the other one made them trot. They soon were through the sleeping village and headed up the steep mountain trail.
The canyon swallowed them as the first light shone behind the peaks. Slocum knew he’d feel less jumpy if they were over this pass. Any attempt to stop them, or take her, could be set up in this area as they climbed into the taller timber. He had to trust Trevino’s six senses. But the men had voted him as the best—it was their necks also that could be chopped off.
Bare hooves clapped on the rocks. Iron shoes clanged on the small pathway. Animals grunted and strained, saddle leather creaked. They’d be to the top in another hour. So far so good. But it could never last. Standing in the stirrups, he passed the train and joined the women and Estevan.
“You all are making it?” Slocum settled his horse into a trot with theirs.
“So far, but we aren’t to noon yet,” Willa reminded him.
“We’ll break about then. There usually is adequate graze in the Gap. We need to kind of baby this stock. There won’t be much graze once we reach the desert floor. We’ll buy grain where we can for them.”
“Do you think anyone will try to get at us before we get out of the mountains?” Willa asked.
“If I knew that I’d avoid them.” He glanced back. The mules and riders were doing fine.
The two women nodded.
By noontime, they reached the wide meadows and made camp in a defensible place in the pine timber at the edge. The campsite was close enough that they had access to the spring that fed a small watercourse, which filled the animals. Mules rolled on their backs in the dry grass and dirt to satisfy the itching of their hides.
Slocum noticed the clouds were building. They could use a rain. They were about fifteen miles from Dona’s and that much closer to the Salazar hacienda. It would take two weeks to get there—but he had plenty of time if the bad ones left them alone. But Mexico was a desperate place—bank robberies netted little money in many places. The robbers found the safes empty. Men were killed in alleys for less than a dollar in change. So his cargo was plenty valuable, and no mistaking sooner or later someone would try them.
The two women cooked food. The men on horseback dragged in some hardwood for their cooking fire. Trevino and Slocum sat on their haunches and discussed the trail they should take in the morning going down in the foothills. Estevan was off scouting in a wide circle to look for any sign of a threat. Willa soon brought the two men cups and a pot of fresh coffee.
The older man doffed his hat to her, “Gracias, Señora.”
“So you think the Stone Canyon is the way off?” Slocum winked at her and nodded approval as she poured his cup full.
“Sí, the other trails are exposed in the open, but it is twenty miles by Stone Canyon till we reach a good place to camp. It will be a long day in the saddle.”
“There are some strong springs to water t
he animals along the way.” But it held a big danger that concerned Slocum. “A flash flood up here could wipe us out in that canyon. Maybe by the time the showers start in the afternoon, we will be far enough down to get away from them.” Slocum blew on his coffee.
“We could leave in the night and be out of the canyon by afternoon.”
“Good idea.” The coffee was rich-roasted and Slocum was enjoying each sip. “We will tell them the plan at supper.”
“I’m going to take a siesta.”
Estria met Trevino and gave him something wrapped in flour tortilla. Then, with a pan in one hand and her skirt in the other, she carried one to Slocum. With Estria stopped, standing over the top of him, he swiveled on his toes and looked at the wrap in the pan.
“It is dried apples, brown sugar, and raisins.”
“No poison?”
“No poison.” Then she laughed aloud at his question. “Why would we poison you?”
“I was only teasing you. Gracias, you two will spoil my men.”
“It wouldn’t hurt them,” she said, ready to go back.
“I am glad to see you laugh.” Slocum held the warm tortilla in both hands, all fixed to taste it. The fumes of the apple’s tart sweetness and cinnamon tickled his nose.
She stopped and looked back at him. “I am glad too. I thought I forgot how to do that.”
Good. In a few weeks, perhaps when she was at the hacienda, she would return to the normal girl that the Apaches had kidnapped. He hoped so. At the first bite, his mouth flooded with saliva. Ah, something from heaven to eat. Willa was behind this dish—she certainly knew how to cook. Such a good woman. He knew many, all of them special, but she was out of the ordinary. Never acted jealous or pouty, and shared herself with the men and the girl. Even Dona had noted her good temperament, and after all of Willa’s concern about the house of ill repute, the place was no problem for her to live in.
In late afternoon, his men gathered in to dry. An afternoon shower peppered the canvas shelter they’d thrown up and their roof was being pecked at by small hail and large cold droplets. Squatted and sipping the coffee in their cups, the men agreed to the notion that to be far down Stone Canyon by mid afternoon the next day would be a good idea and the safest one.
Thunder cracked and rolled across the Madres in blinding displays. Rain ran off the edges and down the hillside. The thirsty soil sponged the moisture up. In a week the grass would be green again across the meadow. At last, the passing storm let up. Then another batch of clouds moved over and soaked things down again. Off and on until the sun went down, streaks of rain came across them.
They were eating her bacon and frijoles when they heard a horse coming hard up the back trail. Hands went for gun butts, and two of the men brandished their rifles.
Slocum rose with his plate in his hand. “Easy, boys, he could be friendly.”
“It’s the stable boy, Baca, from Dona’s.” Willa, holding her skirt up, ran to meet him. “Baca, what’s wrong?”
“A—bandit—has shot her. Mi Dona.”
“Which one?” Slocum’s eyes narrowed in the twilight.” Who would do such a dastardly thing?”
“Is she all right?” Willa held the boy’s arms.
“No—Señora, she died.”
“What is his name?” Slocum demanded.
“Silva.”
“Oh, you poor boy—” Willa smothered him in her arms. The boy cried on her. With her mouth drawn in a tight line, she asked, “Why did he do that?”
“I don’t know. He was drunk. He was angry. I was so afraid. He swore and shouted about Slocum a lot.”
She turned back to Slocum. “What should we do?”
“Kill him,” Slocum said in a hard-sounding voice. “But first Estria must be in safe hands.”
“The closest place is your friend, Lou Valencia’s hacienda.”
“Yes, and that’s three days’ hard riding.”
“Then we’d need fresh horses to ride back. And it would be a week later.”
Slocum nodded. No matter, Leon Silva did not deserve to live a day longer. The nerve of that bastard to kill such a dear woman was beyond his wildest consideration. And Silva’s men were no better for letting him do it. Damn, they all needed to be sent into hell’s hottest fire forever.
They loaded up after only a few hours’ sleep. The men acted numb, but that was only from lack of sleep. They’d be a lot sleepier than that before they reached the Valencia hacienda.
By late afternoon they swept out of Stone Canyon, watered their horses at the mission, and put feed bags of corn on the mules’ and horses’ noses. They ate food from some street vendors and after dipping their bare heads in the horse tank, replaced their sombreros and rode on.
The desert brought heat, which fatigued them more. Dead carcasses lined the road, some of the hide still on them and they looked fierce. Dead horses’ skulls showing bared teeth with a coat of dusty hair on their cheekbones became creatures from another bad world. He’d never really noticed the dead before—under the hot relentless sun, they laid among sparkling diamonds.
Slocum made certain all their mounts were steady at the next watering hole. More grain was fed them. Their noisy chomping went on as Willa and Estria distributed jerky to everyone.
They slept a few hours down the road and were up ready to move at sundown. One mule had taken the shakes and stood trembling under his packsaddle. It would not move despite the men cussing him.
Slocum saw they’d never do anything with him, rode in and stopped them. “Get what we need off of him and put it on the others. He won’t be any good to us.”
“Damn mule anyway,” Cordova swore.
“We’re lucky there isn’t more like him.” Slocum spurred his dull horse back to the head of the line.
“How much farther?” Willa asked under her breath.
“A day, I hope. How is she?” he asked.
“Sick to her stomach. She’ll be all right.”
“Anything wrong?”
“No, but we hope everything is all right.”
“What do you mean?” He frowned and pushed his horse in close to hers.
“That she doesn’t have his baby in her belly. Her bleeding may start today.”
Good heavens, he had never even thought about that.
13
They reached the hacienda past midnight. Guards had raced ahead to wake everyone. The house was lit up and Lou was out giving orders.
“You found her!” Lou shouted at Slocum, who dropped heavy out of the saddle and then stood to get his legs steady with his hand on the spent trembling horse.
“We got her back. That damned Silva shot a good friend of mine after we left the village.”
“I’m sorry.”
“He’s the one’s going to be sorry. I want four or five horses to go back. I’m going to sleep a few hours, then you need to roust me.”
His host frowned at him. “You aren’t going back—so soon?”
“In the morning. Yes, I want Silva put away once and for all. He kidnapped and raped Willa. I should have shot him then when I got her back. Maybe Dona would be alive if I had.”
“Marty, show him and his lady to a bedroom,” Lou shouted to a woman.
“Sí, patrón.”
Estevan carried Estria in his arms over to them. “She just fainted. I asked her how she was and her knees buckled.”
“She’ll be fine,” Slocum said, exchanging a confiding look with Willa.
She nodded and they went to the house with the woman Marty.
No need to undress, they flopped facedown across the feather bed and instantly went to sleep. A noisy rooster woke him and he wondered where in the hell he was at for a few seconds. Valencia’s hacienda.
“I’m goin’.” He shook her, backing off the top of the bed.
She moaned and he combed his hair back through his fingers looking down at her. Damn, she’d sure be pissed if he left her. “Come on. We’re leaving.”
Weakly, she wav
ed him away, nesting her face deeper in the goose down. He nodded and strapping on his holster, he went through the doorway.
“Slocum you better wait for me,” she shouted loud enough to rattle the glassware. Coming out of the room, she had one boot on and was one-legged hopping to get the other one on.
He leaned his back to the wall to wait. Damn, he was bone tired, hungover, and whipped, but Silva wasn’t getting by with murder. Slocum and Willa walked outside and there were six horses saddled, and two pack mules.
“You men—” He looked over the four of them and Lou. They looked worse than he did. “I can get Silva, you men go collect your pay from her father.”
“You forget,” Trevino said. “Dona Valdez was damn sure our friend too.”
“Estria will be fine here,” Lou said. “I have sent for Salazar to bring a carriage and an escort for her return. Salazar will pay. To have his daughter back he would give his fortunes.”
With a nod, Slocum let the stirrup leathers down to better fit his legs, something he’d intended to fix for days. Willa did the other side. Six against those bandits was better than one or two. He closed his dry eyes—what a helluva mess. But he knew Estria was safe in more ways than one.
They gnawed on jerky and jog-trotted their fresh horses eastward. In two days he wanted to be at the base of the Madres. That evening, squatted in the dust, they ate with a street vendor. The wizened old lady cackled and told them dirty jokes about her days as a puta. Slocum doubted anyone that ugly could even have coaxed a bad drunk to climb on top of her—who knew anyway. After he paid her they rode on.
“Even her food was lousy,” Willa said, riding beside him through the narrow streets. “And her jokes weren’t funny either.”
“You laughed.”
“Someone had to.”