Slocum and the Teamster Lady

by Jake Logan

  “We will get some supplies and ride there. There are not that many places to hide around here.” Slocum nodded to Willa, who’d joined them when they left the hanging scene. She handed them reins to their horses and everyone mounted.

  “We’re going north.” Slocum reined his horse in close.

  She agreed with a sharp nod.

  On the move, they ate jerky and washed it down with tepid canteen water. A woman on the road that Slocum talked to had seen a rider a few hours ahead of them, riding bareback, hatless and looking over his shoulder a lot.

  He thanked her and paid her twenty centavos. She smiled at the coins in her palm and nodded her approval of him.

  “God be with you,” she said after him.

  They reached a small village before sundown. A small livery agreed to feed their animals. They unsaddled them and the short man put feed bags on each animal’s head.

  “A hatless rider came through here earlier?” Slocum looked around to see any sign of Silva.

  The livery man they called Paco nodded. “But he bought a sombrero and a fresh horse from me. He was a mean bastardo and I was afraid he might hurt someone, so I sold him a fresh horse too cheap and he left me a worn-out caballo.”

  “I understand. Any idea where he was going?”

  “He asked me about the road to St. Claire.”

  Trevino nodded. “We know that place.”

  “I’ve been there once or twice,” Slocum agreed, recalling the small village. “Did he sound familiar with the water sources on the way across that desert?”

  Paco shook his head. “I think he thought he could find them without help.”

  Cordova stepped in, chewing on a straw. “He will find them maybe, maybe not. There are some long kilometers between water holes by the way he goes.”

  Slocum nodded, considering it. “But he will be at them before we are. We need to approach all of them with caution. He might poison them.”

  “How will we know?” Trevino asked.

  “Everyone will go to the different stores and ask if anyone bought any poison and what he looked like. He had to buy it here because he left Agnes bareback and had nothing to carry it in.”

  “Do you think he would—” Willa shook her head in disgust. “Only a cruel man would poison people at public watering places.”

  “You answered that yourself,” Slocum said, hugging her shoulder.

  “I guess so.”

  Later, they rejoined at the livery. Willa had found a woman who was a vendor. The older woman set up to make them supper with her small stove, frijoles with goat meat and handmade flour tortillas big as blankets.

  They were all squatted on their boot soles. Jimenez told them the old man at the small store said he sold a stranger some rat poison who he described as looking like Silva.

  Slocum nodded. Willa delivered him a large burrito he had to hold in both hands and he thanked her. The tortilla was hot in his fingers, but he knew from the smell, the contents would flood his mouth with saliva. She went back to get more for the others. Everyone served, she came back and poured coffee in their cups. The old woman continued to work, and soon had several smaller tortilla rolls filled with spicy cooked apples on a tray for them.

  Slocum nodded in approval. “You did good, girl.”

  “Where will we go?”

  “Our horses grained and watered, we will head up in the desert to spend the night. I don’t trust villages to sleep in unless that I know someone who lives there.”

  The others agreed with a nod.

  “How far is the border?” she asked.

  “Three to four days’ ride,” Cordova said.

  Trevino nodded. “I never would have thought about poisoning something as essential as a water hole. But as you say, he is a madman and if he thinks we follow him he will do anything to stop us.”

  Slocum nodded.

  With the sun gone, they rode on a few miles under the stars finding a wide place along a dry wash with some dry grass for the horses. They rode far enough up the bottom so someone wouldn’t stumble over them at night.

  Slocum shouldered his bedroll, rifle in his other hand, and he and Willa hiked up the draw until they were well beyond the others. He dropped the bedroll on the ground and she sat astraddle it undoing the leather ties. With the side of his boot, he cleared the rocks and twigs from a place where they’d sleep. That completed, she rolled it out. Seated on her butt, she fought off her right boot, then the left one in a flashy exposure of her shapely legs that made him smile admiring the show.

  She rose facing him, and unbuttoned the blouse and put it on the brush. The white lacy top shone in the moonlight as she undid the skirt and topped the bush with it. Then the silky, white chemise came over her head and hung loose in her arm.

  She halted seeing he wasn’t moving to undress. “You need help?”

  “No, just admiring the scenery.”

  She shook her head in disapproval and fought the undergarment completely off. “You’re free to look, I guess.”

  “Good, I’m broke.”

  “Oh, do you need money?” she asked, stepping close and undoing his gun belt.

  “Enjoy life,” he whispered softly in her ear. A person’s life was too damn short to squander. With women in his life like Willa, he felt fortunate enough to be alive and share these breath-stealing moments with someone as sexy as she was. He swept her up in his arms and kissed her. Her fleshy stiff breasts poked into him as she eased his gun belt to the ground. Then she threw her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to get all of his mouth-to-mouth tasting he could give her. The birth of her eagerness excited him and he squeezed one of the rock hard boobs turning to stone.

  With trembling fingers, she tore open his pants. They fell to their knees and he felt her hands on the bare skin past his underwear, followed by the release of his already large probe and her small fingers quickly clenching it. Then she shoved the underwear off his shoulders and they stripped it down, with him rising to free himself of all of his clothing and the cooler night wind sweeping his bare skin.

  She opened the bedroll and pulled him down on top of her. His throbbing erection aching for her, she raised her butt and spread her knees apart. In the starlight looking down at her, he could see her closed eyelids and the look of anticipation on her face as he began to enter her gates.

  “Oh, my God, Slocum.” Her fingernails dug in his arms as she held her breath with her back arched for his entry. “What will I ever do without you?”

  He could feel the growing spasmodic contractions inside her tight shaft that began to muscularly grasp his skintight hard-on, and he began to punch her deeper and deeper.

  Her breathing grew swifter and his efforts harder and harder, until they were lost in a giant whirlpool that sucked them into a fiery tornado. And he came in a hard forced explosion. They collapsed in a pile.

  He kissed her hard and she swept the hair from her face with the back of her hand. “Good God. That was the best yet.”

  He nodded, lying on his side facing her and softly fondling her breast. “Could have been, but they’ve all been nice.”

  “I won’t call them nice.” She rolled over on her back and looked at the stars. “I would call them wonderful.”

  “You know that when you are safe at the border, I’ll have to ride on.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, there’s those Kansas deputies on my back trail. It’s time they caught up with me. Crook or his staff wouldn’t tell them a damn thing, nor would the officers over at the fort, but some drunk soldier in a bar will let it slip as I told you before. ‘Why him? Hell, he’s off in Mexico scouting them ’Paces.’ ”

  “Can they arrest you in Mexico?”

  “Naw, but they can pounce on me at the border.”

  “Why don’t you stay in Mexico?” She rolled over on her stomach and braced herself up on her elbows.

  “I guess I get tired of the language and yearn to hear English spoken in a drawl.”

&n
bsp; “Hellfire, can’t you get a pardon?”

  “No, that old man owns that judge and jury in Kansas.”

  “I see.”

  He spanked her muscle-hard ass and laughed. “You won’t be easy to forget.”

  “Good.” With that said, she scooted over against him and reached for his dick. “I don’t want to miss any minutes I have left with you.”

  Oh, my. Here we go again.

  16

  Mid-morning, Trevino rode back from scouting ahead, shaking his head. “There are two dead wild horses at the next watering hole.”

  “That no-good son of a bitch,” Slocum swore. “You think it’s been poisoned?”

  “Yes, there’s also several dead birds around it too.”

  “Better them than us. Cordova? How far is the next water?”

  “Maybe we should go west to the village of Aqular. It is not on the way, but they have good water there.”

  Slocum looked over his crew for an answer. “How much further is dependable water if we keep on toward the border?”

  “Maybe thirty-forty miles.” Cordova grasped the great wooden horn on his saddle and rocked back and forth with a grim set to his face.

  The vast azure sky covered a lot of country growing cactus and bitter greasewood with purple saw-edged mountains standing far off to all sides. Any edge they’d have over Silva gathering some hired guns would be lost if they didn’t arrive up there soon after he did. Such a detour for them might give him one or two days to employ more gunslicks. Time enough to prepare for their arrival. Still, to chance losing horses or anyone in his party was too great of a risk—they’d better ride to Aqular.

  “We best go find that village. Silva can wait,” Slocum said.

  The men around him on the circle of horses nodded, looking relieved. He never doubted for a minute they wouldn’t go either way—but if Silva could poison one water hole, he could poison the next one as well.

  With the blazing orange sunset dying in the west, they reached the small hamlet in a grove of cottonwoods. At the village’s well, they dropped heavily out of the saddle. The horses dropped their muzzles in the water tank and slurped up gallons of water. Diego began working the pitcher pump handle to try and keep up with man and beast.

  Willa, who had left them, returned with a vendor who had many things she offered to fix for them. Everyone squatted down around her with their thirst somewhat quenched and their sunbaked faces washed. The lady cooked and sang ballads while Jimenez played his mouth harp to accompany her. Some of the town women soon joined them, waving around bottles of red wine, and the liquid spirits began to flow. Soon his men were dancing in the dust with them. Seated on the edge of the tank, with Willa, watching them, Slocum nodded his approval.

  “How quick these people can party,” Willa said, hugging his arm.

  “In this land you don’t want to miss an opportunity.”

  “I understand. I understand.”

  He squeezed her shoulder—damn, she made good company.

  The next morning, they took breakfast before dawn from the same woman and then rode north. Slocum felt their night’s rest—though some had less than others—made his crew more alert-looking in the saddle. At least they were smiling. They still lacked two or more days to reach the border and then find their man.

  “Someone is coming after us,” Cordova said, looking back.

  Frowns were exchanged at the sight of the dust and the effort the rider was making. Everyone reined up and waited. Obviously, whoever this person was, he wanted to join them.

  “You boys make a husband mad?” Slocum asked, and they all laughed but Willa.

  He gave her a slight shove and wink.

  “Señor. Señor.” The man reined in his lathered horse in a sliding stop. “My Captain Hernandez wishes for you to join him.”

  “What for?”

  “He needs someone to steal the caisson from General Garcia.”

  “Huh?” Slocum frowned at the man. “Why us?”

  The man looked around the desert like he was being sure no one could hear him. “If he steals it, Garcia might start a war. If you steal it, all he can do is cuss a gringo, no?”

  “I’m not very wild about stealing that caisson. Besides, we’re going after a murdering rapist named Silva.”

  “Ah, a bad hombre.” He pulled his spent horse’s head up. “My captain would pay you well for stealing it.”

  “How much?”

  “Five hundred pesos a man, and her too.”

  Slocum cocked his eyes at the man. “Has he got that much money?”

  “Si, señor. This is a very delicate thing.”

  “It is.” Slocum hunched the gathered muscles in his shoulders. “This job might be damn dangerous too.”

  “Captain says you are the only man he knows in Mexico who could do this job.”

  “The only gringo dumb enough to try, he meant.”

  “No. No.”

  “Ride off over there.” He gave a head toss for the non-uniformed sergeant to ride a short ways away. “Let me talk to my men about it.”

  “Oh, sí.” He gathered his horse and rode apart from them.

  Satisfied the man was far enough away, Slocum dismounted and pulled the crotch of his pants down. The rest climbed down too for him to explain the deal.

  “That is lots of money,” Trevino said. “I could live well on that much money for a year.”

  Slocum nodded. He understood the sum was high and represented a fortune to these men.

  “We could all be killed,” Jimenez said.

  “Then we won’t need the money.” Cordova turned up his calloused palms. “It could be worse. We could have drank the water at that spring and died back there.”

  Trevino agreed with a nod. “I say we go steal that damn cannon.”

  “If you don’t want to go with us, then I will understand. It’s dangerous business, but the rewards won’t be bad.”

  Jimenez rose to his feet, swept off his sombrero. “I want to go too.”

  Diego agreed.

  “Willa?”

  She looked hard at them around the circle, wet her lips, and then made a determined nod. “I want a part of this action. If anyone can steal that cannon, you all can do it.”

  Slocum waved in the sergeant and when he came close, he spoke to him. “I never caught your name.”

  “Sergeant Lopez.”

  “Sergeant Lopez, go tell your Captain Hernandez that we’ll try to recover the cannon. Is it at Garcia’s hacienda?”

  “It is in the village nearby.”

  “What do we do with it when we get it?”

  “Destroy it.”

  Slocum scowled at the man. Lopez obviously had no idea what a chore that could be. “That ain’t easy either.”

  “That he can’t use it, is all my captain asked for.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Slocum said, and the others nodded. So if they couldn’t steal it, then destroying it would be just as good.

  “I will tell my captain that you will handle it.”

  “Tell him we aim to try.”

  “Will you need anything?” Lopez asked.

  “Yes. Three cases of blasting sticks, fuses and the caps to blow them up.”

  “Where do you want them?”

  “You need to have them loaded on a packhorse outside of Ariba in two days.”

  Cordova gave a grim nod of agreement to Slocum’s plan and added, “Have plenty of matches too.”

  “Ah, sí, I will have it all there.”

  Slocum watched Lopez ride off. All they had to do was steal a cannon from an army. Simple enough. “Let’s ride.”

  The men put out their roll-your-own cigarettes under the heels of their boots and moccasins, then mounted.

  “How far is this place?” Slocum asked.

  “We can make it there in a day and a half. We’ll be much closer to the border there too.”

  “I don’t want to ride into that village—”

  “Trevino h
as a cousin who lives near there,” Cordova said.

  “Can he put up all our horses and feed us?” Slocum turned in the saddle to look at the older man. “You know it could be dangerous for him if Garcia found out.”

  Trevino scoffed at the notion. “For a few pesos, Chico will do anything.”

  The others laughed. Slocum shook his head. This job could cost him his life if the general found out he’d supported them.

  17

  Chico’s rancho was headquartered under a squaw shade in a side canyon with some water. There was a hand-dug well, a scattering of chickens, several goats, and two sleepy horses—mustangs with coats the color of a coyote. Two wives, both young, and several small thumb-sucking children who looked at Slocum’s small army in wonderment. Chico was a short man close to the half century mark in years. But obviously not past the age of reproduction.

  Slocum and Trevino squatted in the sandy ground away from the ramada talking softly to the man about what they must do.

  “If we pay you twenty pesos for feeding us and our horses will that be enough?” Slocum asked.

  The old man, whose wrinkled face looked like oak leather, nodded. “That would be most generous of you, Señor.”

  “You know, if Garcia ever learns that we were here, he might seek revenge on you and your family.”

  “He is a bastard. But I don’t fear him.”

  “I’m sending Diego into the village tonight to find out what we need to be prepared for in there.”

  “I hope you take all of his gold.” Chico laughed aloud and slapped his legs.

  “We will see.” Slocum wanted no mention to anyone of their true intentions—let him think it was the general’s gold they were after. Besides, who would dare steal a cannon from this pompous general? Why, the whole situation was too ridiculous to even consider. At times he even thought so too.

  Diego left under the shield of darkness to sneak into the village. Before he left, Trevino warned him that if the general caught him, he’d be forced into military duty and to be careful. The young man promised to watch out, and Chico told him that his youngest wife Lawanda’s sister Juanita worked in the Rosa Cantina. She would conceal him if he told her Chico Noreaga sent him.

  Hours after the youth left, Slocum stood under the star-pricked sky wondering about the boy’s success. They couldn’t dare stay long this close to the village or near the hacienda—word of strangers escaped fast back to men like Garcia who paid well for such information.