The Return of Jake Slater

by Zavo

  “I’m in the loft, Josiah.”

  Josiah reached the top of the ladder and jumped down into the hay. When he reached me he took me in his arms and kissed me. Suddenly, he stepped back and held me at arm’s length.

  “Benjamin, what’s the matter. Are you ill? You’re all sweaty and trembling like a leaf.”

  “I’m fine Josiah. What did those men want?”

  “They were sheriffs, one from Abilene and the other from El Paso. They were looking for an escaped prisoner.”

  Josiah grew silent and sat down heavily in the hay. When I went to him it was his turn to tremble.

  “Josiah, what’s the matter?”

  “Benjamin, we’ve never talked about this, but I knew when I found you by the pool that you were running from something. As I grew to know you, I knew you couldn’t have willingly done anything wrong. I was certain you would tell me in your own good time.”

  He paused for a moment and turned to me.

  “When those men came, Benjamin, I thought they were here for you. When they were inside my home, I realized that even if they were looking for you, I would not turn you over to them. They did mention your name, Benjamin. However, they think you are dead. When they told me they were looking for Jake Slater, I was overcome with joy.”

  Jake Slater!

  I felt a ringing in my ears, and the walls of the barn began to blur around me. I felt myself falling, and then there was only darkness.

  When I woke, I was naked and lying in my bed in the loft. Josiah was kneeling by the side of the bed. He was reciting the Lord’s Prayer. When I reached over and touched his hand, he grasped it and smiled at me.

  “You’re awake, Benjamin. You had us worried. What caused you to faint like that?”

  “Before I explain, Josiah, please tell me everything those two men told you about Jake Slater.”

  “Okay, Benjamin. But I’m confused as to why you’re so interested in this Jake Slater, and why you are thought dead.”

  “I will explain, Josiah. I promise.”

  “Jake Slater returned to Abilene looking for Sheriff Rawlins, who was bringing in Ben Masters. He didn’t know that Sheriff Rawlins and Ben had been found dead along the trail to Abilene. Jake made the mistake of going into the sheriff’s office, where he was recognized by Rawlins’s replacement. This sheriff and Jake Slater were rangers together. Slater is wanted for helping a murderer, Ben Masters, escape from Abilene. Slater fell in love with this Masters, and together, the two continued to elude Sheriff Rawlins. Eventually, they were caught, and Jake was killed in a gunfight. Or so Sheriff Rawlins thought. Rawlins had telegraphed his brother, letting him know that Slater was dead, and that he was returning to Abilene with Ben Masters.

  “When they didn’t show in Abilene, Seth went looking for them and found them both dead. According to Seth, the sheriff was murdered by Slater because Rawlins shot Ben while he was trying to escape. When Jake Slater entered the sheriff’s office in Abilene, Nathaniel got the drop on him. He locked him up, to hang the next morning alongside a black man wanted for horse thieving.

  “But somehow Jake and this man overpowered Nathaniel and his deputy and escaped. Seth isn’t sure what happened to the black man, but they tracked Jake to the Langton gang. It’s a local gang that has been robbing banks and trains for more than a year. On their last holdup, Seth and Nathaniel and a posse pursued the gang, and found them holed up in a canyon. A gun battle ensued, and only four men, Slater included, managed to escape across the river into Mexico. They’ve been looking for them ever since.”

  I closed my eyes and lay without speaking for several minutes. My heart was again pounding in my chest. How had this come to pass? Jake was still alive, and now he was most likely in Mexico. I had to leave to search for him. I sat up and took Josiah’s hand in mine.

  “Josiah, I have something to tell you. You’re going to think differently about me once you hear it. I know this Jake Slater, because I am the outlaw wanted for murdering the Texas Ranger. I am the man Jake Slater fell in love with. I was being brought back to Abilene by Rawlins to hang. But I didn’t kill Rawlins. It was another outlaw named Monty Summers. Monty was killed in a flood that I managed to survive. I was wandering lost when you found me. If Jake is alive and in Mexico, I must go to him, Josiah. Can you take me as far as the Rio Grande?”

  “Hold on, Benjamin. You’re Benjamin Masters, not Benjamin Hughes?”

  “Yes, Josiah. I changed my name in case anyone came looking for me. I never thought they would be looking for Jake. I saw him gunned down in Silverton.”

  “Please, Benjamin, tell me the story from the beginning.”

  So I did, starting with my relationship with Bart Jensen, and his jealousy that had been the impetus for him to kill the Texas Ranger. I ended with the flash flood that had killed Monty Summers.

  As I finished my story, I saw a tear in the corner of Josiah’s eye.

  “You love this Jake Slater, Benjamin, and wish to be reunited with him?”

  “I do, Josiah.”

  “Then I will take you to the Rio Grande. You must leave right away and not tell anyone else here what you have told me. If Seth ever returns, I will be the only one who is forced to lie.”

  “Thank you, Josiah.”

  “I believe your story, Benjamin. I have known you for several weeks. I know you are a good man. I don’t think I could have fallen in love with a bad one.”

  I looked up at him, and tears were now running down both cheeks.

  “I’m so sorry, Josiah. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “I know that, Benjamin. For the short time I have known you, you have brought me much joy. But your heart belongs to another. I will gather some food and water for you while you secure a horse from the barn.”

  *

  It had been two days since I had left Josiah’s settlement and crossed the Rio Grande in search of Jake. I had no idea where to go. I’d simply been riding as near the riverbank as possible, looking for telltale tracks. Josiah had not been happy I was leaving, but he hadn’t said anything more when we kissed good-bye. But tears had been flowing down his cheeks. He wished me luck in my search, and said that if I didn’t find Jake I would always have a place with him. I thanked him again and set out across the river.

  My mind was still reeling from the fact that Jake was alive. But I was overjoyed by the fact that he had returned to Abilene to rescue me from Sheriff Rawlins. I had ridden hard, eating the cheese and bread Josiah had packed while I rode. I drank from the canteen he had filled for me. Bless his heart, I had also found a jug of hard cider in my saddlebags. As I took a swig from it, I grimaced at the taste, but it had the desired effect. He had also tucked a few coins into my saddlebags.

  I had stopped at a stream to let my horse drink when the sound of a guitar came to me from somewhere up ahead. It was faint, but I was sure it was real, and not my heat-soaked brain playing tricks on me. I rode warily, not sure what I would run into on this side of the border. After about a mile, the sound of the guitar grew louder, and appeared to be made by multiple guitars. I turned in the direction I thought it was coming from and saw only endless brush. However, upon closer inspection, I saw tracks leading right to the brush. I dismounted and knelt to examine them. That’s when I discovered the brush was not attached. I pulled it aside, revealing a well-worn trail. A trail that someone wanted to keep hidden. Wanting to honor their wishes, I moved the brush back in place after entering the trail. I followed the trail for about a mile. As I emerged from a large stand of jacarandas, I saw a large hacienda ahead. Several men were sitting on the front porch, singing, playing guitars, and passing a bottle between them.

  As I drew closer, I could see that the men were a mix of skin colors. But it was the house that drew my attention. It was enormous, standing three stories, and made of white adobe. A large porch ran the length of the front, disappearing around both corners. A set of stone steps led up to the porch. There were four hitching posts parallel to the porch. Several lar
ge windows lined the ground floor, all of them descending to the porch itself. A large set of doors divided the windows into two rows, to the left and right. To the right and a little behind the house was an enormous barn, with an adjoining corral that looked like it could hold at least a hundred horses. I could see about a dozen milling there now. I stopped and studied the scene for a moment then rode forward. The smell of roasting beef and chicken made my mouth water. I realized I was hungry for more than bread and cheese.

  While I had been surveying the house, I had been scrutinized in turn. The men stopped playing their instruments and all eyes were upon me. I raised my hand in greeting as I drew within a few feet of the porch. There were a half dozen of them, and they certainly were a mixed lot. Four of them were of Spanish or Mexican heritage, while the remaining two were definitely from the States. One of the latter had hair the color of mine. The brown-skinned men were all shirtless, which wasn’t that strange in and of itself what with the heat of this area. However, the redhead was wearing white, one-piece drawers. The other white man was also wearing drawers. His were unbuttoned down to his crotch. His patch of brown crotch hair and the thick root of his cock were plainly visible. Either they were crazy, or peyote sodden, or else this was a whorehouse where the workers were male. I’d heard whispers of these back in the States.

  These men didn’t seem embarrassed by their attire. Not one of them appeared ill at ease at my presence. Nor did anyone make any attempts to cover up. So I was guessing they weren’t crazy. I also noted that there wasn’t an ugly one in the bunch. It was then that the front doors opened and a naked man, obviously intoxicated, stumbled onto the porch. He would have fallen, but the redhead caught him and set him down in one of the porch chairs. Laughingly, the intoxicated man pulled the redhead down to him and began kissing him passionately. After a brief embrace, the redhead pulled the man to his feet and the two of them went back inside. That answered the peyote question. It was then that I realized that one of the men had addressed me.

  “Beg your pardon, but I didn’t hear what you said.”

  “I said greetings, señor. My name is Ignacio. What is your name? Are you lost?”

  The young man spoke passable English. I could see his eyes wandering the length of my body. They stopped twice to gauge the size of my crotch.

  “We are pretty secluded here, so we don’t get the random travelers out this way. Those that come here know of us, and come here for a reason. But the first time they must be shown the way.”

  “My name is Benjamin. Yes, I am indeed lost. I’ve been traveling for days This is the first habitation I have come across. Yes, I just came across the trail a few hundred yards back. What is this place?”

  He stared at me intently.

  “If you don’t know where you are, my friend, or what place you’re at, perhaps it’s best if you turn around and head back the way you came.”

  I didn’t detect a hint of warning in his words, or feel in danger. It was just a common sense statement.

  “As I said, I’m new to this area and I’m lost. Also, I’m almost out of food. Right now, this place is as good as any to stop and rest. May I at least come in and get something to eat and drink?”

  Before he could reply, a man came through the doors and stepped to the edge of the porch. He was twice my size. By the way the others deferred to his presence, including my interrogator, I knew he was someone of importance. He had a full black beard and mustache. His white shirt was unbuttoned several buttons, revealing a swath of black chest hair. His pants were blue and of a soft material. They hugged the muscles of his legs and left nothing to the imagination at his crotch. His thick cock was clearly visible beneath the material. He went to Ignacio and slung an arm affectionately around his shoulders.

  “Now, now, my gentle Ignacio. Let us not be unkind to this lost and weary stranger. After all, we are in the business of providing solace to lost and lonely men, are we not?”

  He came down off the steps and held out a big hairy hand to me.

  “My name is Donato. I oversee this fine establishment for its owner. He is out hunting at the moment, and won’t be back till the morning. Welcome to La Casa de Los Hombres.”

  I had been correct in my assessment of this establishment. When I extended my hand, it was swallowed up inside his.

  “Please,” he continued, his hand crushing mine “come inside where it is cool.”

  I was perfectly willing to accept succor from this giant of a man.

  “Thank you, Donato. As I was just telling Ignacio, I am new to this area, have only arrived in Mexico a few days ago. I was supposed to meet my friend at his ranch, but I have become hopelessly lost. I’m very grateful that I happened upon this hacienda. My name is Benjamin. Benjamin Masters.”

  As I was no longer in the States, I had no fear of using my real name.

  Donato studied me a moment, as if weighing the veracity of my statement. I was certain he was going to ask a question for which I had no ready reply. But he only looked at me a moment longer, his large brown eyes staring deeply into mine.

  “Ignacio, please take this man’s horse to the corral. Come inside, Benjamin, and I will see that you are given something to eat and drink. Perhaps a bath and a room for the night are in order as well.”

  “I don’t have that much money, Donato.”

  “Please, Benjamin, they are on the house. You can be my guest.”

  “That’s very generous of you, Donato.”

  I dismounted and handed the reins to Ignacio, then followed Donato up the steps and into the hacienda. We entered an enormous, cool, dim room. It smelled faintly of cigar smoke, whiskey, and tequila. These scents battled with the fresh scent of lemons. Light came in through the windows at the front porch. More windows to my right where the porch wrapped around the house also added to the interior’s light. Also to my right was a large stone bar that ran the entire length of the room. Its top consisted of thick, oaken beams, polished to a glossy sheen. A large mirror hung on the wall behind the bar. Its length matched that of the room. A door behind the bar led to a room or rooms unknown.

  The room to my left was sunken, with two sets of steps granting access. One was next to the entrance, and the other was across from the opposite end of the bar. The room overflowed with leather chairs and sofas. These butted up to the walls, which were of the same white stucco as the exterior. However, these were covered in beautiful tapestries of turquoise, mauve, orange, and yellow. These colors were offset by framed oil paintings of handsome, yet stern-looking men in uniform. They were obviously great Mexican generals, both past and present. Other paintings depicted enormous schooners sailing the high seas, their decks filled with sailors battling either the elements or pirates. The floor of the room was of a dark, smooth wood. The majority of the space was filled with round tables of the same dark wood, each with four matching chairs. They were similar to the tables and chairs in many of the saloons I had frequented in the States.

  Just past the end of the bar, stairs led to a second floor. A long hallway wrapped around the entire cantina area. It did so on the third floor as well. Numerous doors lined the hallways on both floors as far as I could see. The stairs began again at the first L in the hallway, granting access to the third floor. The aroma of beef again filled the air. My hunger was renewed tenfold. Several men sat at the tables. A few were playing cards. Others were scooping up beans, onions, and strips of beef with flour tortillas.

  “Have a seat, Benjamin. I will have food brought to you. Would you also like a whiskey, or perhaps some tequila?”

  “Both would be wonderful, Donato.”

  I sat at one of the tables, still astonished at all this opulence in such a godforsaken place. As I sat there, I received many curious stares and knowing smiles. Several men also openly flirted with me. As my thoughts idly wandered, a young man came to my table carrying a large platter similar to the ones on the other tables. It was heaped with beans, onions, beef, and three large tortillas. The young man
placed the platter on the table and left. Donato returned with a shot of whiskey and a bottle of tequila with a glass. He filled the glass with tequila before sitting in the chair across from me.

  “Pay no attention to me, amigo. I am just making sure no one mistakes you for one of the workers.”

  While I ate contentedly, I noticed several well-dressed older men coming into the hacienda. They were always greeted by semi-dressed men. These men were either shirtless, or with only white drawers covering their bottom half. Several of the men joined poker games already in progress, while several others were escorted to rooms upstairs. Even above the din of the poker games, cries of release and ecstasy could be heard coming from the rooms above.

  When I had finished eating, I downed the whiskey and refilled my glass with tequila for the second time. The same young man appeared and silently removed the platter and the whiskey glass.

  “Thank you, Melchor,” Donato said.

  “Did you get enough to eat, Benjamin?”

  “I did indeed, Donato. I appreciate your hospitality.”

  “That’s good. Your tub is being drawn and will be ready shortly. While this is happening, let me show you to your room.”

  “After you, Donato.”

  I fell in place behind the handsome Mexican as he climbed the stairs. We paused at the second floor landing, and Donato called my attention to a door to our immediate right.

  “Behind that door is a set of stairs that leads to the bathhouse.”

  We continued down the hall till we were at the front center of the hacienda. As he opened the door to my room, a loud cry of delight came from several doors down. I stepped inside, and Donato was right behind me. The room was tiny but immaculate. A large bed took up most of it. The only other furniture was a small dresser and a chair by the bed. On the dresser was a large terra-cotta basin and pitcher. On two walls were framed portraits, again of some past or present general or other military leader. To the right of the bed, a set of French doors opened onto a small balcony. I opened them and stepped onto the balcony with Donato at my side. I was met with an amazing view of the Rio Grande. It was only twenty or thirty feet from where we stood. It was made all the more beautiful by the fact that the sun was just dipping below the horizon.