Gunmen of the Desert Sands

by Ralph Cotton

  ’’Hell, I thought he was dead," Leeman said with a short chuckle. ’’Got himself et by a bear up in Montana Territory."

  ’’They call him the fastest gun alive," Kerns said, carefully, watching Leeman’s face to see his reaction.

  ’’Yeah, I know," said Leeman. ’’I remember hearing him called that. But that was all hot air and horse droppings. He never was near as fast as everybody used to think he was." He turned in his saddle and said, ’’Let’s get into Zarco. I can use some tequila, take my mind off losing my little darling." He batted his boot heels to his horse’s sides and raced away in the silver gray of morning.

  As soon as the three had ridden away, Kerns looked at Hewes and scratched his head. ’’I didn’t want to dispute him, but Shaw looked awfully damn fast to me."

  ’’Me too," said Hewes, ’’but I wasn’t going to get my head shot off for saying so." He spat on the ground and watched the three riders raise a cloud of dust in the morning light.

  PART 4

  Chapter 16

  Paco, the woman and Francisca had ridden across the sand flats and up onto one of the many hill trails north of Zarco. Once in the shelter of the high rocky terrain, as they kept the horses moving along at a walk, the woman sidled up closer to Paco and said, ’’Now that we are safely away from Zarco, you can leave us on our own. We will be all right."

  He looked at her in the thin moonlight for a moment, then said, ’’Do not judge me to be like Quinn Madsen and the others. I ask nothing from you or the child." Francisca rode along a few feet behind them, listening.

  ’’Oh, I see," she said, returning his scrutinizing gaze. ’’You come with us out of the goodness of your heart, eh, Paco Ruiz?"

  ’’I come with you because my friend Shaw asked me to," he replied. ’’This is dangerous country, especially after what happened in Zarco. He wants me to stay with the two of you until you are far away from the border raiders."

  ’’And where is this safer place you speak of?" she asked.

  Paco considered it for a moment, then said, ’’Mexico City, perhaps?"

  ’’No, that is too far," said Ramona. ’’Francisca and I will be fine if you turn and leave right now. We know our way through the hill trails."

  ’’Why are you afraid of me?" Paco asked, knowing the woman was uneasy traveling with him. ’’I am only along to make sure you get away from Madsen’s border raiders. I am here to protect you. I ask nothing from you in return."

  ’’Protect me? Madsen was only trying to protect me," she said with a bitter tone. ’’When he had sent my Nito off to be starved to death, he told me it was not safe for me and Francisca to live alone, with so many men in Zarco. Then he moved into my home, took over my life and beat me when I tried to resist in any way."

  ’’I told you, I am not like Madsen," said Paco. ’’I am sorry for what happened to you, but it is over now. You and the child must put this part of your life behind you."

  Ramona stopped her horse on the rocky trail, as if she would refuse to ride any farther with him. ’’Do not tell me what my daughter and I must do. It is because of men like you that I am fleeing my ho—"

  ’’Quiet," Paco hissed, cutting her off by jerking the reins from her hands and pulling her horse along behind him.

  Francisca had heard him and started to pull her horse back away from him. But Paco snatched her reins from her as well and dragged both of them off the trail into the sparse shadows of brush, rock and tall slender saplings. ’’Let me go!" said Ramona, struggling against his hold on her horse.

  ’’Shut up!" Pace growled, his Colt coming out of his holster, cocked and ready.

  Seeing the dull glint of gunmetal, Ramona froze in her saddle for a moment. So did Francisca.

  ’’Listen," Paco whispered, his Colt gesturing higher up the trail. ’’Horses coming." He paused, then added in an even lower whisper, ’’Two . . . no, three horses coming."

  The woman and the girl sat stone silent as the sound of slowly moving hooves drew closer and more audible on the rocky trail.

  Watching the trail closely from only a few feet away, Paco saw Morgan Hatch and Sonny Engles move past him like ghosts. Behind them rode Juanita, the whore, who had caught up with them on the way up the other side of the hill lines. She looked back and forth warily, a soiled and bloodstained bandage on the bullet wound in her shoulder. At one point her attention seemed to fix on Paco, who sat aimed and ready to fire.

  ’’I’m telling you I heard a woman’s voice, Morgan," Sonny Engles said to Hatch, both of them also looking around in the shadowy moonlit darkness.

  ’’I think you’ve been riding too long," Hatch replied, searching along the trail all the same. ’’What the blazes would a woman be doing out on these high trails at this late hour?"

  ’’I don’t know," Sonny whispered. Then he gestured a nod back toward Juanita. ’’Ask the whore, she’s out here, ain’t she?"

  Hatch gave a thin smile in the darkness. ’’She’s an exception. She’s out here ’cause she craves the company of bold, adventurous men like us."

  ’’Is that right, Whore?" Sonny asked over his shoulder with a chuckle. ’’Do you crave the company of men like us? Is that why you stuck with ole Wild Dick to the end? Is that why you took a bullet for us?"

  The woman didn’t answer. She rode along in silence, both Wild Dick and Grady Carr’s blood dried dark and mixed with her own on the bosom of her dress. She carried Carr’s big revolver stuck down behind a wide leather belt that Hatch had given her to wear. ’’Don’t pick at her, Sonny," Hatch said, half joking yet half-serious. ’’She’s armed with both gun and knife. She would chop you down quicker than a Chinaman can chop a duck."

  ’’I’m not picking at her, am I, hon?" Sonny said, glancing back, his eyes going to the gun at her waist.

  The woman didn’t reply.

  ’’Don’t ignore me, Whore," Sonny warned her, cocking a gloved hand threateningly. ’’I’ll wear you out without batting an eye."

  ’’Leave her alone, Sonny," said Hatch. ’’She did what we needed done. She earned her place at the table—she’s one of us now. She’s got a bullet through her shoulder to prove it."

  ’’Yeah?" said Sonny, still turned in his saddle facing the silent woman. ’’Just because you did what we expected of you doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate any of your guff. Bullet or no bullet, I’m primed to back-hand the cold piss out of you if I take a notion."

  The woman only stared at him until he finally gave a short laugh and said, ’’Damn, she don’t spook easily, I’ll give her that."

  ’’Good for her," Hatch said.

  Sonny turned forward in his saddle and gazed ahead along the shadowy trail. ’’I can’t wait to see Deacon Lucas’ face once we get down from here and across the sand flats," he said, finished with taunting the woman. ’’He’s bound to think we’re lying dead back in Julimez."

  ’’Yeah," Hatch replied grimly. ’’I just wish ole Wild Dick was along to dabble his fingers in Deacon’s warm brains when we open his head up."

  Sonny took a bag of fixings from his shirt pocket, rolled a smoke, lit it and shook out the match.

  ’’Damn it, Sonny," said Hatch, ’’you’ve both been striking matches all night."

  ’’So?" Sonny said, letting go of a stream of smoke and handing the fixings back to Juanita.

  ’’So anybody can see us coming from miles off," Hatch said in a harsh tone.

  ’’Tornillo ellos todo," Sonny said. With a laugh he looked back at the woman and said, ’’Did I say it right, Whore, screw them all?"

  The woman only shook her bowed head slowly without answering yes or no. She busily rolled herself a smoke. Running the thin cigarette in and out of her mouth to firm it up, she lit it and blew out a thin silvery stream into the moonlit darkness. Ignoring Engles, she looked back again toward the spot where she thought that she too had heard the sound of a woman’s voice. They rode on.

  When the three had ridden a safer dista
nce farther down the trail, Ramona breathed a sigh of relief.

  ’’Let’s keep silent," Paco whispered, leading both Ramona’s and Francisca’s horses back onto the trail and giving them back their reins.

  Francisca rode along, glancing back over her shoulder, until they had reached a fork in the high, narrow hill trail.

  When she felt safe enough to talk, Ramona asked Paco in a hushed voice, ’’Did you recognize those three?"

  ’’Sí, I recognized the men and their voices," Paco replied. ’’They are Morgan Hatch and Sonny Engles. Both of them are border raiders—two very dangerous killers. The woman I have never seen before."

  ’’Then it is a good thing that you heard them when you did and guided us off the trail," Ramona remarked.

  Paco only shrugged. ’’I have ridden this country for a long time. Like a fox, I have learned when to be brave enough to prowl or wise enough to lie low."

  After a pause Ramona said apologetically, ’’I was wrong to resist when you tired to lead me off the trail."

  ’’I caught you by surprise. It is understandable that you questioned what I was doing," Paco said. ’’You do not know me, and I ride with the same men who have caused you such misery."

  ’’I am grateful to you for leading us away from Zarco," she said in a gentler tone than she had been speaking in.

  ’’You are both very welcome," he said with another slight shrug. ’’I wish none of those bad things had ever happened to you." He paused, then said, ’’And now I leave it up to you. If you do not want me to ride any farther with you, tell me so. I will go one direction, you can go the other." He nodded at the two trails lying before them. ’’I will not lead you against your will."

  Ramona looked at both trails as she considered how close they had come to riding right into the two border raiders in the darkness. She hadn’t heard a sound; but Paco had heard, and he’d known exactly what to do. ’’Where will you go?" she asked. ’’Will you follow this trail around and go to the border raiders?"

  Paco thought about it. ’’That is what I had intended to do. I make lots of money stealing from the americanos and racing back across the border." He gave a trace of a devilish grin.

  ’’Money is all that is important to you, then?" she asked, searching his eyes.

  ’’Sí, it is," said Paco. He shook his head as if catching himself in a change of heart, then said, ’’That is, it was all that is important to me." He looked at her. ’’I have seen how bravely you, your daughter and your husband have tried to stay together. It makes me think maybe there are things more important than money."

  They sat in silence for a moment, Francisca moving her horse a few feet away from them and gazing off up the meandering hill trail. Finally Ramona asked, ’’What is it you want, Paco Ruiz?"

  ’’I want . . ." He paused, then continued. ’’I want whatever it is that you and Nito Gomez had."

  ’’That is what Madsen wanted," Ramona said. ’’He killed my husband for it . . . still he did not get it. I don’t think he even knew what it was."

  ’’Neither do I," said Paco. ’’I do not know what it is, and I do not want to kill to get it, the way Madsen did. Yet I have seen it, and I want it . . . even more than I want money."

  ’’I will be mourning my husband’s death for a long time to come," she said.

  Paco nodded. ’’I understand."

  ’’I do not know if my heart will ever heal after all that has happened here," she said.

  ’’This I understand too," Paco said. ’’Perhaps all that happens is that I lead you and Francisca to a new place, where you will be able to live in peace. I ask for no promise and I make none myself. If there is no place for me when we get there, then so be it . . . I will go."

  ’’A new place . . ." She nodded slowly. ’’My Nito would want that for us." She looked off along the high trail and said, ’’All right, Paco Ruiz, lead my daughter and me away from this terrible place . . . por favor."

  Without another word on the matter, Paco turned his horse toward the high trail. Ramona nudged her horse forward, following him.

  Francisca looked longingly back into the moonlit night and across the distant sand flats. She crossed herself silently, wondering where Shaw might be at that very moment, and if he’d known all along, as she was certain any angel must, all the dark and painful ways in which the things she had prayed for would have to be answered.

  She wiped a warm tear from her eye with the back of her hand. ’’Gracias, Senor Angel. Adios," she whispered under her breath. Then she followed her mother and Paco away into the high desert night.

  In the morning light Shaw had grained the big buckskin and led it from the livery stables to the water trough beside the town well. While the animal drew water, he sank four canteens at the edge of the well, filled them, capped them and hung them by their straps from his saddle horn. He looked all around at footprints back and forth from the well to the pile of simmering, smoking rubble that had been the Gomezes’ home. Villagers stood staring at the charred heap.

  He thought about the woman and her daughter for a moment, knowing the two were in good hands with Paco Ruiz. The Mexican was a good man in spite of how he made his living. Shaw had known when he’d sent him off last night there was a good chance he’d never see him again. Shaw gazed off toward the distant hills. Who knew where Paco and the women’s paths might lead them by the time they got where they were going?

  As an angel, his work here was done, Shaw thought wryly, tightening the straps holding his bedroll. He looked at the buckskin, and the horse raised its dripping muzzle and stared back at him. ’’All right, I’m ready," he said, as if the animal had told him it was time to go.

  But before he could gather his reins and swing up into his saddle, Shaw heard a voice call his name from the street out in front of the cantina. Upon hearing the voice resound along the dirt street, the villagers standing by the burned rubble seemed to vanish without a sound. Taking his time, Shaw turned slowly toward the voice as it called out again.

  ’’Yeah, you, Fast Larry," said Deacon Lucas Leeman as he walked forward. Six gunmen followed close behind him, three on either side, spread out with a few feet between them.

  Shaw patted the buckskin’s side and said quietly to the animal, ’’Why is it you get in trouble every time you drink here?"

  ’’I’m Lucas Leeman. I know you’ve heard of me," said the tall, broad-shouldered gunman. As he spoke he made a show of drawing the lapel of his dark swallow-tailed suit coat back behind the handle of his tied-down Colt. ’’I want to talk to you." Dust and sand from the desert trail still lined his hat, his shoulders and covered his boots.

  Shaw looked him up and down, making no reply as to ever having heard of him. ’’Talk," he said flatly, making no move to pull up the corner of his poncho and reveal his own tied-down weapon.

  Leeman caught the deliberate slight on Shaw’s part. ’’Well, I’ve heard of you, Fast Larry—all that fastest gun alive malarkey. I never believed a word of it. To tell the truth, I thought you died long ago. I even heard once that a bear ate you." He gave a thin, mirthless grin. A tense hush fell over the street.

  ’’Was that your talk?" Shaw said, unmoved.

  ’’Hell no." Leeman’s face reddened with rage. His demeanor and voice changed. ’’Let’s get down to matters," he said. ’’These men told me what happened here last night. Now I want to hear what you’ve got to say about it."

  ’’I’ve got nothing further to add," Shaw said in the same flat tone.

  ’’Nothing further to add?" Leeman gave a short bemused chuckle. ’’You haven’t even heard what they told me."

  ’’I know," said Shaw.

  Leeman creased his brow. ’’Are you giving me a hard time here?"

  ’’Not yet," said Shaw.

  The men flanking Leeman took heed to Shaw’s thinly veiled threat. They tensed, having seen his merciless handiwork on Bo Phelps, Cero Stewart and Tommy Layton.

  Leema
n caught the threat as well. His hand wrapped around the butt of his Colt and tightened there, his thumb over the hammer. ’’This gang lost three good men to you, Fast Larry Shaw," he said with a note of contempt. ’’Not to mention Madsen and the Mexican dying in that fire last night. You’ve got to convince me you had no hand in things, if you plan on living out the day."

  ’’I have got no plans made. Do you?" Shaw said in the same flat tone.

  Shaw looked from face to face at the men flanking Leeman. Among the six men, Charlie Bone and Blackie Waite stood nearest to the big gunman. Off to the side Shaw saw Bert Sibott standing away from any upcoming fight. Siboott shook his head slightly, as if advising Shaw not to let things get out of hand. The big bare-knuckle brawler’s face still carried the scars, bruises and red scorch marks from their previous encounter. Then Shaw riveted his eyes on Leeman, letting him know he’d be the first to fall.

  But Leeman wouldn’t be stopped. He started to make his move; Shaw saw it in his eyes. Yet before he begin to snatch his gun up from his holster, a voice called out from the rooftop of the cantina where a gunman named Towan Bartley stood with a long telescope in his hand, ’’Deacon! Riders coming! It’s Morgan Hatch and Sonny Engles. They’re alive! There’s a woman with them!"

  Leeman froze. His face went blank. ’’I’ll be damned," he whispered loud enough for Shaw to hear him. In his stunned surprise, he straightened, eased his hand up from his gun butt and stood staring at Shaw as if uncertain what to do or say next. Finally he raised a hand and pointed at Shaw. ’’I’m not through with you. Don’t try leaving town."

  Something in the look on Leeman’s face struck a curious chord in Shaw. He looked past Leeman and saw the same stunned look on the faces of Waite and Charlie Bone. Farther out he saw the rise of dust from the approaching riders. Then he looked back at Deacon Lucas Leeman and said in the same flat, unrevealing tone, ’’I wouldn’t think of it."

  Chapter 17

  Seeing Filo Hewes ride out toward them across the sand, Morgan Hatch said, ’’Keep your bark off until we get Leeman and those other two snakes right in our gun sights. Then we’ll chop them off at their boot tops."