Slocum and the Trail to Tascosa

by Jake Logan

  “Well, a man accompanied by a woman took Bridges out of a house—no one knew him—a big man, and she wore men’s clothing and packed a .45.”

  “Do you think it was Slocum?” Barr stood on the porch of the hotel in the early morning light and shook his head.

  “Well, I kinda thought about him.”

  “Who’s got my money?”

  Kittles shrugged. “No one mentioned it, Mr. Barr. Nobody.”

  “He couldn’t have spent it all. He had enough money to last him for a year in this backcountry.”

  “Mr. Barr, I don’t know where your money is at.”

  “What funeral home has Bridges’s body?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Find out. I want to know if he still has it on him or who stole it.”

  Kittles frowned. “You reckon we should talk to the law here first?”

  “Screw the law. You go examine him and ask questions.”

  “But—but they might object.”

  “Object! You work for me. Those two bastards robbed my safe! They beat me senseless for no reason. You go and find out where that money is at.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “And be quick. If we don’t find it today, they’ll cover it up and we won’t be able to trace it.”

  “Yes sirree, I’ll do that, Mr. Barr.”

  Barr watched the bowlegged hick in his knee-high boots stalk down the street. Kittles’d be no help. Why, that drawling idiot had given up finding his money before he even left him.

  Where in the hell was his money at anyway? He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Doss and his men since they got into Tascosa twelve hours earlier. He had more incompetent people working for him. All of them were too dumb to find their own asses with both hands. If he ever overcame this dizzy business, he’d run them all off and start over.

  His head whirled and he caught a porch post to save himself from falling. Tascosa leaned on a forty-five-degree angle and his vision swarmed. In seconds his sight went black, and he slumped to the porch.

  Erma’s voice directing some men packing him upstairs was the next thing he heard. “... there. Put him on the bed easy.”

  “You need anything else, ma’am, you just call.”

  “He’ll be all right in a little bit. Thanks,” she said, ushering them out the door.

  She turned to Barr. “You know you aren’t well enough to go off by yourself like that. Why do you keep doing it?”

  “I was fine.” His weak voice sounded rusty to him.

  “You weren’t fine. You need to be under a doctor’s care. While you were out, I got a telegram from your banker. They’re wiring us five hundred dollars to pay our expenses back to Nebraska.”

  “Good,” he said and closed his eyes. The inside of his forehead was trying to crash out of his skull. “Get me some medicine. I can’t stand this pain any longer.”

  “You know if anything happens to you, as your mistress I will have nothing. If you die, who will get your ranch besides that banker?”

  “What the hell—? Get the medicine.”

  “You are not listening to me. I want you to marry me.”

  He raised up on his elbows and blinked at her in disbelief. “Do you want your damn ass beat?”

  “Tell me, tough guy. How will you get back to Nebraska?” She stood back, out of his reach, holding the medicine and spoon.

  “No one threatens me—”

  “What you are saying is no one threatens you when you’re well. You aren’t well, Udall Barr.”

  “Why, you little bitch. After all I’ve done for you—”

  “You haven’t done anything for me but rob me of my virginity without any respect and rut on me like a boar hog.” She threatened him with the spoon.

  “Give me the medicine,” he pleaded and then slumped back on the bed. The outburst had drained his strength.

  She poured the precious medicine in the spoon. “I want to get married to you today.”

  In defeat, he nodded and exhaled in surrender. “All right—I’ll marry you.”

  He never knew how much later, but he mumbled through the man’s words required of him, barely able to hold her hand. Erma stood beside him as he lay on the bed and prompted him.

  “... now pronounce you man and wife.”

  She kissed him on the forehead and went to the door with the man who had performed the ceremony.

  “Sure hope you get stronger, Mr. Barr,” the man said and left the room.

  “Think you’re smart ...” She smiled for the first time he remembered and gave him another large spoonful of laudanum.

  “You rest now, darling.”

  Darling? She’d never called him that before.

  In a peaceful state of suspension resulting from the medicine, Barr heard her chewing the asses off Doss and the others.

  “Where did Slocum go?” Erma sounded mad as hell. “What did he do with the money? Kittles found no sign of it at the funeral home—Slocum has to have it. How did he beat them all to Bridges and then get out unseen except by a couple of whores? And where in the hell have you been?”

  Doss complained that they’d never been out this way before and had taken the wrong fork in the road. They only got themselves finally turned the right way around when they ran into Goodall, who did know the area and decided to stick with them since they were all after the same people. But then they’d had a horse go lame, further slowing the group since there’d been some shifty-looking characters shadowing them for a couple of days, and they didn’t dare split up in case the outlaws got up the gumption to attack. When she didn’t let up on them, Barr smiled to himself. She was going to make a tough boss. He fell back into a deep sleep.

  Later she fed him a bowl of soup and then gave him another big spoonful of medicine. She told him to rest.

  He could have sworn that sometime in the night she was buck naked in the bed next to him and Kittles was on top of her screwing her ass off. She had her ankles wrapped around his neck, folded up like a jackknife, and Kittles was prodding her ass with a huge donkey dick.

  “Oh, oh, Erma, you’re so wonderful,” that hick called out, giving her all of his yard-long erection.

  His wife—that hillbilly—in his own ...

  Two days later, during the small time when he was aware of anything and not deeply sedated as he was the rest of the day, he decided that she was packing to leave.

  Her answer to his smallest question was for him to rest and take more medicine, which she’d then force on him. Early the next morning he could see the stars in the sky when they carried him down to his pallet in the buckboard. Minutes later they headed out of town. Someone also accompanied them with a farm wagon loaded with bedrolls and supplies for the trip back to Nebraska. She had it all organized.

  Barr lost track of the days. Vaguely, he could recall Erma waking him and administering medicine to him. Then he watched her and that high-crowned hat Kittles drive off in the rig for Dodge City. Barr wanted to tell Doss what his wife and that damn Kittles were doing to him, but he fell asleep.

  He guessed his money, which the bank had sent him, was what bought the fancy blue dress with all the ruffles on it that Erma wore when he saw her next—though when exactly that was, he didn’t know.

  “Darling,” she said, cheery-like, fussing over him in his bedroll. “Do you feel any better this morning? Oh, you poor dear, you must need more medicine.” Then she leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “Are you ready to have our honeymoon tonight?”

  Barr blinked at her. What did she mean? Hell, he couldn’t even get a hard-on.

  24

  Slocum was snuggled under the covers, with Leta’s body heat making the bed a heated cocoon. He had planned to ride over to the Farley ranch—all he needed was the ambition to leave his warm world.

  “Oh, hell,” she finally swore in surrender. “I’ll make us some breakfast so you can go.”

  She rose and pulled an undergarment on over her head. He watched her wiggle it over he
r well proportioned body. A little saggier than he could recall the original one being, but still one made to lay up with and dispense to. Some women were good but harder to fit with—she fit like a spoon. Tight enough but not too—he shook his head. His brain had begun swirling with sex. Damn, he loved it—each woman a little different and each one loveable.

  After he ate the meal she prepared, he dragged his saddle out and tossed it on his horse. He also fed her horse and, with her wrapped against the north wind in a blanket observing him, he loaded up the packhorse he’d borrowed from Minnie and completed getting ready. Finally, he hugged and kissed her good-bye.

  “Be careful,” she said, “and come back soon.”

  “I may be gone two or three days by the time I ride up there.”

  “I understand. I need to go into North Platte and check on my carpenters. If I’m not back when you get here, wait for me.”

  They parted with a hard separation and he short-loped his fresh pony. Dark had settled before he reached the Farley ranch. Minnie met him at the door and blinked.

  “Slocum, what are you doing back? Where’s Denny?”

  “Well, Denny is running a ranch down in Kansas for another lady. How are you?”

  He hugged her and she invited him inside. The warm, snug house wrapped its warmth around him, and he realized anew why a tent wasn’t the answer to winter north of the Platte River.

  “Have you eaten?”

  “No.”

  “Good, I have plenty of food. I’ll make you something. Tell me all about Texas.”

  “Bridges, Horace and the other two aren’t with us anymore.”

  She looked at the ceiling and shook her head. “God bless them.”

  “Barr, I guess, has not recovered from the beating Bridges gave him that night when he robbed Barr.”

  “Bridges robbed him?”

  “After he left here that night, I’m pretty certain he robbed and beat up Barr.”

  “Oh,” she said, slicing white potatoes into the hot grease.

  “Barr’s the one who hired him to come up here.”

  “That yellow dog. I’m sorry you had to make that long trip for me.”

  “There isn’t anything to be sorry over. I have something for you.”

  She blinked. “What is it?”

  “The money Bridges stole from Barr.”

  “Oh, Slocum you don’t owe me any money.”

  “Yes, I do—or rather, those bastards owe it to you.”

  He rose, turned his back and drew the canvas belt out from under his shirt. Then he turned and put the belt on the kitchen table. “He owes this to you.”

  “I can’t take it. It seems like blood money to me. It would remind me of that horrible night all over again.”

  “Minnie, it’s your money. Barr and Bridges and the others owe you that.”

  She broke out crying, and he held her in his arms.

  “Why me?” She swept plenty of tears from her eyes and on his shirt. “Why me?”

  “I can’t bring Charley back. I can’t restore that night the four of them attacked you. Minnie, you’re the one who gets it.”

  “Oh, Slocum, it seems so wrong. Me taking it.”

  He held and hugged her, then at last she let him eat his supper and they talked some more.

  “What will you do about Barr?” she finally asked.

  “I’ll come to that fork in the road one day and decide then what I’ll need to do.”

  “You rode clear back here to give me this money?”

  “No, ma’am. I came back to settle with him here, where he was running over people like you. I wanted this to be a lesson to all these land grabbers like him.”

  “Will he make it back?”

  “I don’t know, Minnie. Only time will tell.”

  “You can stay here as long as you want.”

  “I have a place to stay. Thanks. Thanks very much.”

  “Charley told me you were like this.” She nodded that she understood.

  In the morning, he’d head back to Leta Couzki’s—but first he had one more thing to check out. It wouldn’t be far out of the way.

  25

  Barr wasn’t sure where they were at. Kansas or Nebraska maybe. Erma held him to stand up to urinate. His body was too weak for him to even try to stand alone. The hands would load him in the back of the buckboard for her. His shoulders shook when he coughed hard. Somewhere he had caught a bad cold. It sounded deep, but he didn’t worry about a thing; he felt free in the trance the medicine brought on him.

  “When will we be home?” he asked, bleary-eyed, taking the second spoon of laudanum she poured for him.

  “They say soon. Here, take the rest of your medicine.”

  “Good ... good. I want to be home with you—”

  “You don’t start getting better soon, I’ll have to give you three spoons at a time.”

  He waved her away in a dreamy voice. “I-I’ll be fine. Fine as . . .”

  His days became even further away from reality. She spoon-fed him, but he ate less and less. His wife kept up her good spirits, feeding him at mealtime and giving him his medication. Devoted and kind, they soon were back at the home ranch, and Mozelle came out to see Barr’s wasted form when they carried him in.

  Through his dim vision, he watched Erma proudly show her the wedding license. Then he saw the older woman turn her rage at his wife. He couldn’t hear Mozelle’s words, but he knew she was mad. Then she stomped out of the room and soon returned with a valise, wearing her driving clothes to leave.

  Erma told one of the hands to take her to town. Then Erma smiled at Kittles, who stood there beside her. Quickly she whispered something in his ear and he clapped both knees. Barr read that hick’s lips: “By golly, we’re rid of her too.”

  The funeral for Udall Barr was less than a week later. Folks noticed that only Barr’s wife, Erma, and one of his hired men were there for the services. Oh, the banker was there all right, but the rest of the regular funeral attendees skipped the program.

  A few questions were asked around town about his foreman, Doss, and the others.

  “Got ’em all better jobs, yes sirree,” her man Kittles told them. “Every one of them, when we got back, went off and got themselves a lot better paying job. Where? Oh, why, jest all over.”

  Slocum stayed out at Leta Couzki’s, and he’d made some trips here and yonder. Finally he rode into town and met with Sheriff Garner. It was a nice day, with the temperature above freezing and the sunshine slanted in the office windows from the south.

  “We need to take a ride,” Slocum said.

  “What did I do wrong now?” Garner asked, looking up from a wanted poster.

  “I want to solve some crimes for you.”

  “You have some good evidence?”

  “I sure do.”

  Garner stood up and put his wool overcoat on and then his felt hat. “I’m damn sure ready for that treat.”

  They collected Slocum’s horse at the rack out front and walked the hard frozen ruts up to Pierce and Sons Livery. Garner wore his thin leather riding gloves and kept using the webs of his fingers to drive them on. “I’m curious. Which crime did you solve?”

  “Oh, I want you to see my evidence and you decide. It may answer a million questions.”

  “What led you to this evidence?” Garner asked.

  “You did, once upon a time, and we found nothing.”

  “What’s materialized here?”

  “Evidence.”

  After an hour’s ride, they drew up at Barr’s line shack.

  “Well, I recall this place. What did you find?”

  “Took me a few trips up here to ever locate it. Come on inside.”

  They hitched their horses and went inside the wagon board front door. Slocum crossed the floor and lifted up a well-fitted trapdoor. Both men knelt at the hole, and Slocum drew out the canvas bag.

  With care, they unwrapped the long rifle, and Garner whistled at the sight of it.

&nbs
p; “Who in the hell do you think this weapon belongs to?” the sheriff asked, looking over the well-oiled and well-kept gun.

  “Want to guess?”

  “Barr?”

  Slocum nodded.

  Garner looked at him hard. “How can I prove it?”

  “That’s his signature for the ammo on that receipt in the bag.”

  “Whatever possessed him to kill all those people?” Garner asked, rising up from the floor.

  “I’d say the man hated people. Like he hated my friend Charley and didn’t want him in this world any longer.”

  “I’m grateful to you,” Garner said and shook his hand. “If you ever need a favor, call on me.”

  The next morning, Slocum gave Leta a long good-bye kiss, saddled his pony and rode south again. He might make San Antonio before the Christmas holiday. His and his pony’s breaths made large steam clouds. A flake or two of snow flitted in the wind. San Antonio and the dark-skinned young women dancing in the warm sunshine beckoned him.

  He waved his hat a last time at Leta.

  Watch for

  SLOCUM AND THE TERRORS OF WHITE PINE COUNTY

  384th novel in the exciting SLOCUM series from Jove

  Coming in February!