The Legend of El Duque

by J. R. Roberts

  * * *

  Steiger knew he’d made a mistake.

  “Let’s go get ’em,” Tibbs said.

  “We can’t.”

  “Why not?” Tibbs asked.

  Jerome saw it, too, though.

  “We’re too close.”

  “To what?” Tibbs asked.

  “To the ranch,” Steiger said. “If we hit them now, the shots will attract attention.”

  “We can get the money and get out of here before anyone from the ranch reaches us,” Tibbs said.

  Steiger looked at Jerome, who shrugged.

  “Your call.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said.

  “Steiger,” Tibbs said, “you made a mess out of this.”

  Steiger backhanded Tibbs without warning. The man flew from the saddle and hit the ground with a solid thunk.

  “You’re probably right,” he said, “but don’t say it again.”

  Sitting on the ground, his butt feeling bruised, Tibbs wiped the mouth with the back of his hand, came away with some blood.

  “Understand?” Steiger asked.

  “Yeah,” Tibbs said, “yeah, I get it.”

  “You got somethin’ to say?” Steiger asked Jerome.

  “Like I said,” Jerome replied, “your call.”

  Steiger looked at Tibbs again, who was still sitting on his butt.

  “Get mounted,” he said. “We’ll find a place to hit them when they leave with the bull.”

  Tibbs got to his feet and struggled into the saddle. Steiger glared at him, and the man kept silent.

  * * *

  Clint and Mano rode through the entry arch to Rancho Sandoval. Men working in the corrals stopped to watch as they rode up to the house. When they reined their horses in, no one moved.

  They looked around, but no one approached them.

  “What is going on?” Mano asked.

  “I don’t know,” Clint said. “Just sit tight. Let’s wait for them to make the first move.”

  * * *

  Antonia heard the horses approaching, and ran for the front door. Montero had managed to tell her that it was Clint Adams coming to the rancho to buy the bull. This excited her—which suited him, because it kept her from being angry with him. She was determined to be the first to meet him when he arrived, so she had Montero tell the men not to approach any gringo who rode in during the next week.

  She reached the front entry of the house well before her husband, and flung the door open.

  * * *

  Clint was looking around. When the door swung open, it caught his attention. He turned and looked in time to see a beautiful woman come out of the house. It seemed as if she had been running, but when she got outside, she slowed to a walk.

  Mano saw her and was transfixed. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

  She walked up to them, glancing at Mano, but for the most part, her eyes were on Clint.

  “Señorita Sandoval?” Clint asked.

  She smiled and said, “Señora, actually. Don Pablo is my husband. May I help you gentlemen?”

  “My name is Clint Adams,” Clint said, “and I’m here to buy a bull.”

  Antonia had a couple of hands come over to take care of their horses, and showed Clint and Mano into the house.

  “My husband, Don Pablo, is in the courtyard,” she said. “Please follow me.”

  “Lead the way, señora,” Clint said.

  She showed them through the house, which was very open inside, with few walls. One room just seemed to flow into another.

  The courtyard floor was made from slate, and Don Pablo Sandoval looked up as they started across.

  “Antonia . . .”

  “This is Clint Adams, Pablo,” she said. “He is here to buy the bull.”

  “Clint Adams?” Don Pablo repeated, standing up. “You are the Gunsmith?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you are here to buy El Duque?”

  “Right again.”

  “And this young man?”

  “Don Pablo,” Mano said, “I am Mano de la Vega. My father, Don Sebastián de la Vega, sends his best.”

  “Don Sebastián,” Sandoval said. “I have not seen my old friend in many years. You are welcome, Mano.”

  “Thank you, Don Pablo.”

  “Later you will meet my daughter,” Don Pablo said. “You will both stay to supper, and also stay the night.”

  “Don Pablo,” Clint said, “about the bull.”

  “You will see him soon,” Don Pablo said, “but it will be dark in two hours. I think you should freshen up for supper, and see the bull in the morning.”

  “We’d like to get started back,” Clint said.

  “It will take a while to get El Duque ready to be transported, señor,” Don Pablo said. “I think you will be here until the day after tomorrow. Why don’t you try to relax?”

  “That sounds good to me,” Mano said.

  “I can have two of the guest rooms made ready,” Antonia said.

  “Well,” Clint said, “it seems like I’m outnumbered. Okay, we’ll stay.”

  “Excellent,” Don Pablo said. “Do either one of you play chess?”

  “I’ve played,” Clint said, “but I can’t say I’m very good.”

  “So much the better, señor,” Don Pablo said with a smile. “I like to win.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  When Clint came down for supper, he was surprised to find two beautiful women waiting for him. They were different, though, different enough to indicate that they were not mother and daughter. He’d suspected as much when he saw how much younger Señora Sandoval was than her husband. The young señorita had black hair and eyes, while Antonia was fair-haired, with blue eyes.

  “Let me present my stepdaughter, Katerina,” Antonia said. “This is Clint Adams.”

  “Señor Adams,” the beautiful young woman said.

  “Señorita Sandoval,” Clint said.

  “Please,” she said, “call me Katerina.”

  At that moment Mano came down, and when his eyes fell on the younger woman, Clint could see that the young man was smitten.

  “Katerina,” Clint said, “this is Mano de la Vega. Mano, Don Pablo’s daughter, Katerina.”

  “Señorita,” Mano said. “It is a pleasure.”

  “Señor.”

  “Oh no,” Antonia said, “you young people should call each other by your first names. Is that not right, Señor Adams?”

  “It is, señora,” Clint said, “if you will call me Clint.”

  They were all trying to decide what to call each other when Don Pablo walked into the room.

  “Cook says supper is ready.”

  “Please,” Antonia said, “follow me.”

  Clint followed Antonia, but Mano followed Katerina. They ended up seated at a long wooden table, the five of them. The cook brought out a roast, all sliced on a plate, and extra plates of vegetables.

  “Was your ride down eventful, señor?” Don Pablo asked Clint.

  “Very much so,” Clint said.

  “We ran into some rurales just about an hour from here,” Mano said.

  “Captain Ortiz, no doubt,” Sandoval said.

  “You know him?” Clint asked.

  “I knew him when he was a bandito,” Sandoval said. “Now he is a captain in the rurales. Sometimes I despair for my own country, señor.”

  “Tell us of your other adventures, Señor Adams,” Katerina said.

  Clint opened his mouth to answer, then caught Mano mooning over the young señorita.

  “I think I’ll let Mano do that, Katerina,” Clint said. “Go ahead, Mano. Tell them some stories.”

  Mano looked at Clint, who nodded.

  “Well,” Mano sai
d, “there were three men who tried to take the money Clint is carrying to buy the bull . . .”

  After supper, Don Pablo invited Clint for cigars and brandy.

  “What about Mano?” the older man asked.

  “I think he’d rather stay at the table and talk to your daughter. That is, if you don’t mind.”

  “No,” Don Pablo said, “he comes from a good family. Come with me.”

  Don Pablo led Clint to another room. This one had four walls, and when the older man closed the door, they had privacy.

  He poured brandy, and handed Clint a cigar.

  “I suppose we should sit down and talk business,” Don Pablo said.

  * * *

  Antonia left Katerina in the company of Mano, telling them she’d be back soon. The young people did not mind her leaving.

  She went out the back and met Carlos Montero behind the bunkhouse. They had agreed to meet there on the night the buyer arrived.

  “You were right,” she told him. “He is the Gunsmith.”

  “I am lucky I was not killed,” he told her.

  “You will need more men.”

  “More men?” he asked. “For what reason? He is already here. He is buying the bull.”

  “You will need more men to take the bull from him.”

  “Take it from him?”

  “Yes,” she said, “when he leaves here.”

  “But . . . when?”

  “He is leaving the day after tomorrow,” Antonia said. “You have until then.”

  “But . . . I will have to pay them.”

  “I have money,” Antonia said. “Don’t worry.”

  “But . . . the Gunsmith?”

  “He’s just a man, Carlos,” she said. “Just a man.”

  She turned and melted into the darkness.

  THIRTY

  Since the price had already been set, there wasn’t much talking to be done.

  “I have the money on me,” Clint said as they sat, “but it wouldn’t be smart of me to hand it over before I see the bull, would it?”

  Don Pablo stared at him.

  “Of course,” Clint said, “after I’ve received the hospitality of your house, I suppose I should—”

  “No, no,” Don Pablo said, “you are quite right, sir. Finish your brandy and bring your cigar with you. I will take you to El Duque.”

  Clint drank down his brandy and stood up.

  “We will go this way,” Don Pablo said, and led Clint through a pair of French doors.

  They went out into the night and walked to the barn. A man turned and looked at them with wide eyes as they entered, then relaxed when he saw that it was his boss.

  “Don Pablo,” he said, “good evening.”

  “Good evening, Ramon. This is Señor Clint Adams. He has come to buy El Duque.”

  “Ah,” was all Ramon said. He was a small man, older then Don Pablo. Had probably worked for the man for many years.

  “Señor Adams, this is Ramon. It is his job to see that El Duque is ready to be transported whenever you wish.”

  “Well,” Clint said, “it seems we settled on the day after tomorrow.”

  “As you wish, señor,” Ramon said. “El Duque will be ready.”

  “And now,” Don Pablo said, “we will show him the bull.”

  “Sí, patrón.”

  Ramon led them past some open stalls to one that actually had a door on it. There was a padlock, into which Ramon inserted a key. Then he swung the door open and said to Clint, “El Duque.”

  Clint stepped up and took a look. A bull with a white blaze of a face looked out at him and blinked.

  “That’s the finest-looking bull I’ve ever seen,” Clint said.

  “That is the point,” Don Pablo said.

  “And he’s a big one,” Clint said.

  “We have a cart that will fit him,” Ramon said. “And a team to pull him.”

  Clint looked at Don Pablo.

  “Included in the price?” he asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Can I look him over?” Clint asked.

  Don Pablo waved him in.

  Clint entered the stall, put his hand on the bull’s hind quarters.

  “Do you know much about bulls?” Don Pablo asked.

  “Not much,” Clint said. “I’ve worked with cattle. This one looks sound enough.”

  “He would have gored most men by now.”

  “Gored?”

  “El Duque does not have a pleasant disposition,” Ramon said.

  “But he seems to like you, señor,” Don Pablo said.

  Clint stared at the bull, who was standing calmly, and then eased himself out of the stall.

  “You can close it now, Ramon,” Clint said.

  “Sí, señor.”

  He waited until Ramon locked the door, then said to Don Pablo, “What’s he weigh? A ton or more?”

  “More.”

  “Almost three thousand pounds,” Ramon said.

  “Jesus.”

  “We have a sturdy cart, and a strong team for you,” Don Pablo said.

  “Well, all right,” Clint said. “I guess it’s time to pay the bill.”

  “Over another glass of brandy,” Don Pablo said. “Come.”

  Back in Don Pablo’s study, Clint handed him the leather wallet with the money in it. Don Pablo counted the money out onto his desk, then drained his glass and refilled it. He opened his desk, took out some paper, and wrote Clint a receipt.

  “And now,” he said, “we can join the others for coffee and flan.”

  Clint hadn’t had flan in a very long time. He would have preferred pie, but he was in Mexico, so he said, “That sounds great.”

  There was a safe in the corner. Don Pablo knelt before it, opened it, put the money in, and closed it again, spinning the dial.

  “Very well, then,” the older man said. “Back to the dining room.”

  “Lead the way, Don Pablo.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  Clint came down for breakfast the next morning, found Mano already there talking with Katerina.

  “Good morning, Señor Adams,” Katerina said.

  “Morning, Clint,” Mano said.

  Clint returned the greeting and approached the table.

  “Coffee?” the girl asked.

  “Please.”

  She poured it for him as he sat.

  “I’ll tell the cook to bring breakfast out,” she said.

  “What about your father?”

  “He will be down soon,” she said, “as will Antonia.”

  Clint noticed she didn’t say the name of her stepmother with much pleasure.

  As Katerina went into the kitchen, Mano said to Clint, “She does not like her stepmother very much.”

  “I got that feeling,” Clint said.

  “She thinks Antonia married her father just for his money.”

  “Maybe she did,” Clint said. “That’s got nothing to do with us buying this bull.”

  “Did you see the bull?”

  “I did,” Clint said. “He’s an impressive animal.”

  “So you paid Don Pablo?”

  “I did.”

  “When do we leave with El Duque?”

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  Mano looked surprised.

  “Tomorrow. I thought you would want to leave today.”

  “They have to get the bull ready,” Clint said. “So you’ll have one day to work your roughish charm on Katerina.”

  “She is beautiful,” Mano said. “My father would love her.”

  The kitchen door opened before they could go any further. Both Katerina and the cook entered carrying plates and bowls. At that moment Don Pablo entered the dining room.

  “
Katerina!” he snapped. “How many times have I told you not to help Cook serve?”

  “Father,” Katerina said smoothly, “we have guests.”

  “I am sorry, señores,” Don Pablo said, “but my daughter has a habit of performing menial tasks that are beneath her.”

  “What about when I am married, Father?” she asked. “Won’t I be performing menial tasks then?”

  “If your husband so wishes, my dear.”

  “If her husband wishes what?” Antonia asked, entering the room.

  “My daughter is helping the cook serve breakfast,” Don Pablo said.

  “Oh, Katerina,” Antonia said, “you know how that annoys your father.”

  “Yes,” she said, “I do,” and flounced back to the kitchen for more. Antonia put her hand on her husband’s hand and said, “Leave her to me.”

  “Someone must straighten her out,” Don Pablo said, “and yes, I will leave it to you.”

  The cook came back in with Katerina, and breakfast was served. Katerina poured coffee for all the men, and then took her seat.

  “I propose a toast,” Don Pablo said, lifting his coffee cup, “to El Duque, who tomorrow will leave for the United States.”

  “Oh, Father,” Katerina said.

  “The purchase is complete,” Don Pablo said, “and Mr. Adams will be leaving with the bull tomorrow.”

  “May I have a chance to say good-bye?” Katerina asked.

  “Of course,” Don Pablo said. “You have until tomorrow morning.” He looked at Clint. “My daughter has formed an attachment to the bull, and thinks he is her pet.”

  “He is,” she said.

  “I’m not sure I like being in the middle of a family affair,” Clint said.

  “You are not,” Don Pablo said. “I assure you. The bull is yours.”

  “Not mine,” Clint said. “I’m just the messenger.”

  “You will treat him properly during the trip, won’t you?” Katerina asked.

  “Of course we will,” Mano said. “I will make sure of it.”

  “Yes,” Clint said, pointing at Mano with his fork, “he will make sure of it.”

  Katerina touched Mano’s arm and said, “I know you will. After breakfast I will tell you the best way to handle him. He is like a lamb.”

  “That’s right,” Clint told Mano, “a three-thousand-pound lamb.”