Slocum and the Santa Fe Sisters

by Jake Logan

He laughed. “Do you wish to do it again?”

  “Yes.” She smiled up at him and her dark eyes danced with the diamonds of her tears on her long lashes. “I never thought, in my life, that a white man would make me so crazy and also make me feel so good.”

  “You were just starved is all.”

  They stayed occupied until supper time. She dressed and started to leave. Her hand on the door, she asked, “Should I come back?”

  “Why not?”

  “I will be here later. Can I tell Willow that what she said was right?”

  “What’s that?”

  “She said, ‘You will have a good honeymoon with him today.’”

  He laughed. “Come back and kiss me good-bye.” And she did, then she hurried off. He dressed leisurely, thinking he was the luckiest man in the world. Even in the middle of nowhere on Cap Rock, he’d found a great woman. Damn.

  13

  After two days of Butter Fly’s company, Slocum told the men, at supper, that they’d be riding for King’s camp in the morning. Juan was going along. They were all armed with Winchester repeating rifles and had lots of ammo. Yeager was in charge of loading the blasting stick bombs. The three asked him questions about King and his men over the meal.

  McKee finally said, “King got him so mad last time, Slocum notched his left ear.”

  The men laughed and passed bowls of food around the table. Davis spoke up. “Colonel, if he’s all the trouble you got up here, consider him gone.”

  McKee thanked him.

  After another night with Butter Fly, Slocum was up before dawn. They planned to take only one packhorse and travel light. The temperature was above freezing and they rode out, cheered on by the fort crew.

  Slocum told them to trot their horses. He wanted to reach King’s camp by midday.

  “How tough is his crew?” Davis asked.

  “Mostly breeds. They probably got drunk last night. I imagine that’s how he holds them.”

  Davis nodded. “Do they have lots of horses?”

  “I don’t know. We couldn’t find them last time. It was just Juan and me, and I didn’t want them to know I was after them. We never found their horses.”

  “Maybe he sent them where he had feed for them.”

  “That’s an idea.”

  “You don’t consider him much of a threat?”

  “I never said that. He’s tough or he would not have survived this long.”

  “You think he has his eye on taking the fort?”

  Slocum nodded. “That’s why he stayed out here all winter.”

  “I’ll be glad when this is over,” Davis said. “I’m going over into the panhandle and catch that new train. They’ve built tracks out here and then they’ll take it all the way to Denver. I’m riding it back to Fort Worth.”

  “I may tag along,” Slocum said. “They have it that far out here?”

  “Yeah, they’ve been building on it all the time.”

  “Good.” About noon, he had them hold up. He and Juan rode ahead and surveyed the camp from a distance with his field glasses. They saw several squaws scraping the fat from buffalo hides pegged down on the ground. One or two breeds walked around. Neither was armed, and that made Slocum think that they weren’t ready for an attack.

  They slipped back and told the other three that camp looked ready to be taken. They unlimbered their rifles and spread out. The squaws saw them coming and ran for cover screaming.

  King came out wearing a blanket against the cool wind.

  Slocum’s men spread out and demanded that everyone come out unarmed. One breed must have shot his gun off inside the lodge. Jim Davis slipped off the right side of his horse and shot in the air near the front entrance.

  Someone screamed, “No! No!” The breed came out with his hands up; so did others in a hurry. Slocum and his men herded them to a place where King stood looking sullen. “What the fuck is this?” he demanded.

  “You murdered three of my friends who were buffalo hunting. Why?” Slocum asked, getting off his horse.

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  “Yes you do.”

  “Where’s your proof?”

  “The words of a dying man—one of your men—are all the proof I need. I’m taking you back to the colonel right now.”

  “Like hell you are,” King said, then quickly reached inside the blanket to draw his gun.

  But he wasn’t quick enough. Slocum drew out his Colt and shot King in the shoulder. Incredibly, he seemed impervious to the pain and managed to get off one shot, which whizzed by Slocum’s ear but didn’t hit it. He tried to shoot again, but Slocum fired, this time hitting the man in the chest.

  “Goddamn it!” King cried, then he coughed up blood and fell forward, twitching for a moment before he lay still.

  The squaws started keening and wailing.

  “The rest of you have three days to get off Cap Rock or get the same treatment. Do you understand?” Slocum called out, looking around.

  Somber faces nodded.

  “Three days to abandon this camp, and you have no right to return.”

  “Mount up,” he said to his men.

  They obeyed and rode back to the fort. King was dead. McKee and his fort were safe.

  They arrived at sundown. Slocum went to the storeroom and grabbed a pint of whiskey. Willow offered him food, but he shook his head. He went to the jacal, where Butter Fly was waiting for him. He uncorked the bottle and downed a large amount of the raw liquor.

  “Can I do anything for you?”

  He held out his hand to keep her seated.

  “I need this liquor to take some of the edge off my mind. It’s on fire.” He drank again, enjoying the fire of a different kind burning a path down his body.

  “What can I do to help?” she asked.

  “Just be patient. This whole thing is finally over, and I have to loosen up,” he said, taking still another large swig.

  “You found him?”

  “Yes. He won’t bother anyone again.”

  She nodded and put her arm on his shoulder. “Kiss me, big man. I can take you away.”

  He complied, and it worked. All that liquor on an empty belly helped, too.

  14

  Juan reported that the camp was empty on the second day. All the lodges were gone. Good, thought Slocum. They’d taken him seriously. He told the three men in two more days he’d pay them and told Jim Davis he’d be ready to ride to the end of the train tracks.

  “You going to Fort Worth?” Davis asked.

  Slocum shook his head. “No, San Antonio.” Then on to Galveston, but there was no rush. What did she say, she wanted two months?

  He had about one month used up. And he had a ways to go. Besides, San Antonio was always a great place to dance with dusky women and raise hell. Then Galveston was only a hop, skip, and jump away.

  When he said good-bye to McKee, the colonel paid him five hundred dollars for all his work.

  “Come back again. I may need another rescue sometime.”

  “Sure thing.” The two men shook hands.

  Butter Fly looked really sad sitting on a stool and kicking her legs back and forth. “So you must go away?”

  “When you have enemies that track you, you have to be on the go.”

  “Where will you go next?”

  “Texas.”

  “Why there?”

  “Big place. Easy to hide.”

  “But what will I do?” She swung her legs faster.

  “Be glad I’m gone.”

  “No.”

  “I’m leaving you a hundred dollars to find a man to kiss.”

  She giggled. “Where will I look?”

  “Maybe at Fort
Sill?”

  She nodded, then jumped off the stool. Bent over, she shed her fringed blouse. “Why are you not undressing?”

  “I was waiting for you.” He laughed and joined her.

  In a few minutes they were having a rousing affair of kissing and copulation that stole their breath and threw them into a whirlpool of passion. The afternoon faded until they quit to go to supper. After the meal, they went arm in arm like drunks back to make more love.

  In the early morning, Butter Fly helped him load his packhorse with his bedroll and the necessary supplies. Figuring they would be four days getting to the railroad, Davis used the other horse and they left before the sunrise glowed pink on the horizon. Slocum kissed Butter Fly good-bye and told her to find another man who liked to kiss. She laughed and shook her head. “There is no one like you. I will miss you.”

  He and Davis made good time, and on the third day they came upon the railroad grading crew. Following the stakes, they soon saw the awesome operation of tie-laying and then the iron tracks being spiked down. They rode past the operation to the first tent city and found food that beat their own cooking. Davis found a whore and told Slocum he’d be ready to move on at sunup.

  Slocum reminded him that they needed to sell their horses so they could take the train. Jim agreed to let him sell them all, said he’d find him in the morning, and hurried off with the young prostitute. Since it was a weeknight, she’d probably agreed to a cheaper price for entertaining him all night.

  Slocum sold all three horses and then took his and Davis’s saddles to the temporary depot. The agent said the next train heading east left about noon the next day. He found a dry place to spread out his own bedroll and went to sleep early. He was up again early, looking for breakfast. Davis arrived shortly afterward, looking like he’d come through a knothole.

  “You sell the horses?” Jim asked.

  “I sold mine for forty bucks a head.”

  Shocked, Davis frowned at him. “What did mine bring? Damn, that was cheap.”

  “No, I got fifty for yours.”

  “Good. When does the train leave?”

  Slocum gave him his money. “Noon, the freight man said.”

  “Maybe I’ll feel better by then.”

  “You eating breakfast?”

  “Naw, I’ll get something later. You’ll never believe who I seen today.”

  “Who?”

  “That big man who was in the scandal about sticking his wife in the insane asylum—Proctor.”

  Slocum frowned at him. “Where?”

  “He was in a card game when I saw him last night. The woman I was with had a room out back of the tent that he was playing in.”

  “I want that son of a bitch,” Slocum said. “He sent men twice to kill me.”

  “We can find him. They’ll know in that place where he hangs out.”

  “If we have to stay over a day, I want him.”

  “No problem. I’ve got lots of time,” Davis said to him.

  The bartender said that Proctor had a tent north of the railroad town. It was noon before they located the tent, but it was empty.

  “You reckon he saw you and left?” Davis asked him.

  “Hear that train whistle?” Slocum said. “That’s the last train to Fort Worth for today.”

  “You figure he took a powder?”

  Slocum glanced around in disgust. “There ain’t much here he left behind.”

  “Where will he go next?”

  “Fort Worth, I suppose.” When Slocum got there, he’d invest some time looking around for him.

  “Right where I’m headed,” Davis said. “Sorry, you never said you wanted him.”

  “No problem. We won’t be far behind.” Just twenty-four hours was all.

  “Right.”

  * * *

  They left on the next train at noon and arrived in Fort Worth about three the next morning. They were in the stockyards and the strong stench of the slaughterhouses hung heavy in the night air. Davis suggested the Drover’s Hotel, so they took a room and slept till midday. Then they sought baths, a shave and a haircut, and put on clean clothes from their war bags.

  Slocum felt naked walking around the district without the gun harness around his waist. But this was not the Wild West, and he wished for no attention from the law. Davis went one way and he went the other, hoping that Proctor had settled in playing cards in one of the many saloons. They met up in the late afternoon at the White Elephant Saloon but had no word on the man’s whereabouts.

  Then a man who knew Davis came by the table where they were nursing their second draft beer.

  “Jim, I ain’t seen you in six months. How have you been?”

  “This is Hughes. I’ve known him for years. This is Slocum.”

  Slocum shook his hand and sat back down.

  “You recall that big businessman in Santa Fe named Proctor?” Davis asked. It was obvious Hughes had once been in Santa Fe.

  “Yeah, I saw him yesterday.”

  “Here?” Davis asked.

  “Yeah. Funny—I wondered what he was doing here. He was over at the Johnson Slaughterhouse. I had some money coming to me from some cattle I sold them. He was in there talking to the head man. I first asked myself who he was and then I remembered him.”

  “Sit down and we’ll buy you a beer,” Slocum said. “We need more information. Do you know someone in that office who could tell us what he was up to?”

  “What did he do?”

  Slocum told him how Proctor had refused to pay the ransom. How he put the girls in a convent, and had his men beat Slocum up. How he’d committed his own wife to the crazy bin so he could be with his mistress. How he’d sent more men to finish Slocum off.

  “There’s a guy named Scott who works for them and he might tell me.”

  “Here’s ten dollars. Work on it.”

  “We’re staying at the Drover’s,” Davis added. “We need to stop him from hurting someone else.”

  “I’ll be here tomorrow night and have all the info. Right now I know a gal that ain’t booked up that wants seven bucks for me to sleep all night with her.” He downed his beer in one long drink, made a loud belch, and set the mug on the table. “Thanks. See you two.”

  Davis nodded to Slocum. “We may have a good lead. Hughes don’t lie.”

  “I’ll take any way we can to get him pinned down.” He wanted Proctor to pay for his crimes.

  “I think we’re going to do it.” They had a third beer to celebrate.

  The next day, Davis went to see a woman he knew. He came back to the Elephant that afternoon acting down.

  “What’s wrong?” Slocum asked.

  “She wasn’t glad to see me. Either she has new boyfriend or don’t want me anymore.”

  “Hell, you cleaned up pretty good,” Slocum said, shaking his head.

  “She said I was un-respons-able.”

  “That a disease?” Slocum asked and tried not to laugh.

  “No, she said it meant she couldn’t count on me being there. Hell, we aren’t married. And we’d had a big fight and I went to New Mexico.”

  “You want her bad enough?”

  “Hell, yes, I wouldn’t have come back here to pick cotton.”

  “Let me think on it. I’ll figure something out.” Slocum’s mind began to sift through possible plans to impress her and to show her that Davis wasn’t a drifter.

  Hughes joined them and Slocum ordered him a beer. “What do you know?”

  “Proctor wants to invest in a business in Fort Worth. He claimed he had thousands of dollars at his disposal. The Johnson family isn’t interested in a partner, though.”

  “If that son of a bitch still has any money, part of it belongs to his family.”

 
“Well, that’s what he wants. Oh, and he’s staying at the Nelson Hotel downtown.”

  “We can go down there and maybe confront him, can’t we?” Davis said.

  “Maybe,” Slocum said. “We need to lure him out into our hands.”

  “Good idea.”

  “We need to send him a letter by messenger and get him to meet us at some isolated place.”

  “The North Fort Worth Cemetery,” Hughes said and laughed. “You can go up there by taxi and take your guns along.”

  “We’ll need them. That son of a bitch tried to have Slocum killed at least twice, maybe three times.”

  “Whew. I’d go loaded for bear if it was me.”

  Slocum agreed. “I might have to do that.” He would need to know where all the money was at, or it could all be lost in some secret account.

  “Could you meet him and find out where he keeps his money?”

  “Me?” Hughes about swallowed his Adam’s apple. “No. But I know a guy named Schade who could do it.”

  “How dependable is he?” Slocum asked.

  “Oh, he might do it for nothing. He likes having adventures.”

  All Slocum knew was that his circle was growing larger. If this guy would come in on it, the number would now be four. But what could he lose?

  They met at a smaller bar out of the stockyard district and Schade dropped by. Slocum told him about Proctor’s trickery and that they would need his account number and the name of the bank. All he had to do was offer him a partnership, but his boss would have to know that Proctor really had the money. No hoax.

  “Where will I meet him?”

  “North Fort Worth Cemetery. We’ll be in hiding and won’t let him hurt you.”

  Schade was a good actor. He sounded tough enough, and Slocum said he’d pay him ten dollars for the information and fifty for the bank book.

  “When you get it, you can shout. We’ll be right there.”

  “What if he has a gun?”

  “We’ll take care of him. Don’t risk your own life.”

  Schade nodded. “When do we do it?”

  “Tomorrow night or it will have to wait until Monday.”

  “Where will we meet?” Schade asked.

  “At the Elephant in a back booth,” Slocum said. “Don’t show off. Keep a low profile.”