Slocum and Pearl of the Rio Grande Page 13

  He’d go back in, wake up Bledstone, hitch the horse, and go find Nelson. When they had Nelson and the Kid, he could set out for One-Eye. Thorpe would arrive shortly. Though Slocum didn’t know the man, he’d known enough express agents. They didn’t value road agents as worth much, and sure didn’t bring many back to the law. In this case, Thorpe could do all that his way. Just so Slocum got the reward to split with Collie Bill.

  Would Collie Bill stay hitched at Juanita’s place? No telling. Maybe he’d learned enough lessons in life to settle down. At times, Slocum wished he could find an attractive woman like Juanita and spend the rest of his life growing old with her. But that would never work.

  He opened the door, and in the red orange light could see Bledstone on his side, humping it to her from behind on top of the bed. He must have been starved for it.

  “I’m going to find Nelson. I’ll be back.”

  “Yeah,” Bledstone said with his hair in his face. Half-raised up behind her, he looked up at Slocum, but never took his dick out of her. In fact, he steadied her hip and shoved it in her deeper. “I’ll watch ’em.”

  “Do that.” And fuck her—’cause he knew Bledstone would anyway. “I’ll be back sometime with Thorpe.”

  “Yeah,” Bledstone said as he slapped her on the butt to get her up on her hands and knees. He never turned back, too busy with one hand on her bare shoulder to steady her and the other inserting his erection in her from behind. Down on her elbows underneath him, she moaned in a sleepy voice. Slocum left them.

  17

  “Valerie Myrez?” Slocum asked the sleepy bartender as he looked over the brown whiskey in his glass at the large nude painting over the back bar. The woman was plump. Not as plump as Tonyah, but she had a swell to her belly and a dark patch of pubic hair. Tonyah had a blanket of that stuff that covered her entire V. But where Tonyah’s midsection looked like gobs of dough, this one was sleek. Her breasts were pear-shaped with pink caps—Tonyah’s looked like pouches with swollen black nipples that pointed at you.

  The bartender curled his lip. “There are much better putas than Myrez.”

  “I’m not looking for ass. She knows something I need to know.”

  He nodded. “Go to the river and turn right at the new bridge. She lives in the third jacal. In her front yard, she has a statue of a man carved from a log. You can’t miss it.”

  Slocum downed the whiskey and slapped two quarters on the counter. One for the drink, one for the barkeep.

  Picking them up, the man nodded in approval. “Gracias. But I hope you find something better than her to fuck.”

  They both laughed.

  A short while later, Slocum drove the buggy up to the jacal the bartender told him about, climbed down, and watched a red-tailed rooster begin to crow on top of the pole corral. With the lead rope, he tied the horse to the old carreta and headed for the house.

  He could hear two people inside loudly arguing in Spanish. The words he could make out were, “He’s the law. Who told him? He’s the damn law!”

  Six-gun in hand, he charged the front door. Using a well-planted boot where he thought the latch was, he smashed it. His force tore the hinges out of the frame, broke any latch, and flattened the door in a cloud of dust on the floor.

  Her shrill scream cut the room’s darkness, but he could see the back door was wide open. His man was already gone. He rushed through the jacal, out the back way, and saw where Nelson’d hit the head-high willows. In fact, he could see the tops of the leafless brown willows moving as Nelson made his attempt to escape. Slocum took the rail fence by laying his hand on it and flipping himself over it.

  The branches tore at him as he ran through the dense growth, but ahead he could hear Nelson coughing. He wouldn’t run far if he was that bad off. Slocum burst out into a small alfalfa patch and spotted him bent over trying to get his breath.

  “Come with me. We’re going to see your buddy the Kid.”

  The man blinked his eyes at Slocum. “You got him, too?”

  “All we need now is One-Eye. Where’s he at?” It was a test to see if Nelson’s answer matched Tonyah’s and the Kid’s story.

  “How should I know?”

  Slocum spun him around. “Listen, if I get my gun out, I’ll blow your ear off.”

  “How should I know where he is?”

  “You ain’t listening.”

  “All right. All right.” Nelson held his hands up in surrender. “He’s down there at his mother’s house.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “She lives with this guy in Bernallio. Moore. She just married him.”

  “Good, we ain’t lying to each other.”

  “What’re you doing with me?”

  “Holding you for the express company agent.”

  Nelson’s shoulders dropped. “Why didn’t you shoot me back there and get it over with?”

  “I ain’t shooting no one that don’t resist arrest with deadly force.”

  “He will.”

  “That’s between you and him. How do you know that he will?”

  “I was running with some guys down by El Paso one time. We held up a stage, got a little money, and went to this whorehouse across the border. We was all busy fucking them girls. Those express men must have followed our footprints. Three of them broke in there. The whore I was with hid me under her bed. But them bastards made them other three boys get on their hands and knees, faces on the floor right there beside the bed I was under. Then they shot each one of them in the back of the head and took all the money those gals had.

  “I still can’t hear good. I’ve got some money stashed, I can pay you.”

  “Give it to her. I’ve already cut my deal with them.”

  “I sure as hell won’t need it wherever I’m going, will I?” He climbed through the fence.

  Valerie came running holding a towel to her mouth. She was gray-headed and tired-looking, her beauty long faded. Her breasts hung low and her belly sagged. “What will happen to him?”

  “That’s up to the law.”

  “He’s lying,” said Nelson. “He ain’t the law, he’s the fucking express company.”

  Her eyes widened. “Please, oh, please, I beg of you don’t kill him.” She fell to her knees and held her hands flat together in prayer. “I beg of you in the name of God . . .”

  “Tell her where the money is hidden.” Slocum gave Nelson a nudge.

  Her eyes flickered in disbelief from one to the other of them. “What money?”

  “It’s in a can, buried under the horse manger.” Nelson nodded toward the corral.

  “How much?” She was regaining her feet and wiping her tears on the towel. Then she rushed over and hugged him. “Oh, I will miss you so much. Come back to me.”

  Nelson was looking over the top of her head, trying not to encourage her. “That ain’t going to happen. Let’s go, mister.”

  They were on the Chamayo road headed east when Slocum asked him, “Was there much money there?”

  “Enough she will live like a rich old woman.”

  Slocum nodded. He reined the horse into the yard and stopped Nelson before he climbed down. “Don’t try anything. We’ll kill you in a second.”

  Nelson shrugged. “What’s the difference? Now or later?”

  “I ain’t the executioner. That’s up to the agent, but you cross me or try anything foolish, you’re dead.”

  Nelson nodded.

  Slocum knocked, then opened the door. Tonyah bolted up in bed still undressed, and the bleary-eyed Bledstone’s hairy chest was exposed right beside her.

  “Oh, you’re back. That Nelson?” Bledstone blinked his eyes in disbelief.

  “That’s him. I’m riding south to get One-Eye. Better have her get dressed and go after some food. You’ll be here awhile”

  The downcast Kid was still naked, but handcuffed to a chair and seated at the table. Bledstone was up and pulling on his pants. He produced a second set of handcuffs and put one on Nelson’s wrist
. Then he led him over to the table and put the other cuff on the chair the Kid was cuffed to. He stuck a chair under Nelson and nodded in approval at his arrangement. “They’ll be here until Thorpe comes.”

  “Good. I’ll leave him word at the hotel where you are at if I am not back.”

  “Good, I wondered how I’d do that. You realize we have a thousand dollars sitting here?”

  “Three hundred and thirty-three apiece.”

  “Huh?”

  “Collie Bill gets his share.”

  “He ain’t even here.”

  “No, but he’s cut in on the deal. Now get her ass dressed and send her after some food.”

  “You staying for it?” he asked, hustling Tonyah’s fat butt out of the bed. Without a word, she began to wiggle into her skirt and then pulled the blouse on over her head

  “No,” Slocum said. “I’m going after One-Eye. Nelson said he was at his mother’s place, too.”

  “You may need backup.”

  “Tonyah,” Slocum said, ignoring him and staring hard at her. “You tell a soul what’s happening here, I’ll know.” He made a slicing motion with his hand across his throat. “But you be good and keep your mouth shut, you’ll have money in your hand when we leave. Savvy?”

  With both hands, she swept her coarse short hair back from her face. “Sí, I savvy muy bien.”

  “That’s good. Bledstone, don’t forget her pussy ain’t the only reason you’re here. It may take Thorpe two days to get down here.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m going to go get One-Eye. I’ll bring him back or his head. We’ll get that reward.”

  “Cuting it three ways don’t—”

  “Quit bitching. I’ve done all the damn work up till now. We split three ways.”

  “All right.” Bledstone was digging in his pants pocket for some money for Tonyah. “Get some meat. Fresh meat and a bottle of whiskey.”

  “I need flour and lard to make tortillas. I need frijoles,” she went on, spelling out her needs.

  Satisfied things were all right, Slocum went out, unhitched the horse, and drove back to Española. It was near four o’clock when he reached the livery. The next southbound stage was due in at eight that evening. He used his express pass to secure a ticket to Santa Fe. Fom there, he might ride a horse. At the hotel, he had them store Bledstone’s things, and left a sealed envelope for Thorpe at the desk with a note on how to find Bledstone and the prisoners. Then he settled his and Bledstone’s bills. That completed, he crossed to the telegraph office and wired Thorpe.

  HAVE TWO OF THEM SEE MY LETTER AT ALHAMBRA HOTEL DESK BLEDSTONE

  “He’ll sure as hell know that came from here, won’t he?” he asked the key operator.

  “Sure, unless you want it sent from somewhere else.”

  Slocum shook his head. “That’s good enough. How much do I owe you?”

  “A dollar would do.”

  After he settled with the man, he went to find supper. In a Mexican café, he ordered some fire-browned beef, frijoles, and a stack of fresh-made flour tortillas to wrap them in. The waitress was a saucy talker, and swung her hips around serving the customers, but she made a nice diversion while his food was being prepared.

  The stage to Santa Fe was crowded with himself and three other passengers. It was late evening the next day when it reached the Santa Fe plaza. Stiff and sore from the ride, he checked his saddle, bedroll, and rifle with the stage line agent, and went off to look over the various joints around the square. A cold north wind swept the streets. He kept back in the shadows when he entered the first saloon. The smoky interior held a thick yellow haze that dimmed even the candle lamps overhead so they could hardly penetrate it. Unless a man was face-to-face with somebody, he wouldn’t know his own brother.

  There were lots of fine putas laughing and showing off their legs dancing to some trumpet player’s sharp music. Castanets clacked, and then some soprano voice began to sing in Spanish. The night was about to begin. Faro wheels spun and many poker players, from dressed-up dandies to bathless freighters, tossed money and coins on the tables as the cards were dealt. Then he saw her. She wore a black dress buttoned to the top of her throat and was wrapped in a black cape. Seated at the head of the table, she shuffled a new deck and talked with the ease of a man to the other gamblers.

  She looked up once in his direction, but if she saw him, not a muscle flinched in her cold face. He moved to the bar, ordered a beer, and was resting his elbows on the bar when he saw her approaching in the mirror hanging over the back bar. Hugging the cape tight, she moved in beside him and spoke to the bartender.

  “Tell that little bitch waiting on my table to keep those drinks coming.”

  The bartender nodded.

  The she turned to him. “You in town for long?”

  He shook his head.

  “I get off at nine.”

  “I’ll be here then.”

  “Fine, we can do the town after that.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders, pulled the cape tight around herself, and left him in a swish of stiff material.

  He finished his beer and paid the barkeep a dime, then slipped out of the place. He found a street vendor on the plaza squatted beside a small stove. Her head was wrapped in a scarf, and she looked up when he stopped beside her.

  “You are hungry?” she asked. “My food is fresh every day. Each day my children eat what I have not sold.”

  “What do you have?”

  “Beef, frijoles, and I can make a tortilla.”

  “Do that.” He squatted across from her and rubbed his hands in the heat from her small stove.

  “You have no woman to cook for you?” she asked as the strips of marinated meat sizzled with the cut-up pepper and onions.

  He shook his head.

  “You should find a young woman and raise some children of your own. A woman who can cook you good food and fill your bed on a cold night like this one. I bet I could find you one.”

  “No, I can’t have a wife now.” He wanted to tell her never, but that sounded too harsh for a nice woman so worried about him.

  “Ah, you look for fancy one, huh?” Her hands were patting out a large flour tortilla, swirling it in a circular motion as she flattened it. Then she moved the brown meat and vegetables aside and put the white disk on the grill.

  “I have no place for one.”

  “It will be very cold tonight. Do you have someone to sleep with tonight?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  She nodded and turned the tortilla over, using her fingertips to pick it up and slap it back down. “Such a big man as you must have no trouble finding such company.”

  The white sheet was soon in her palm, and she was laying the meat and vegetables on it. Then deftly, she wrapped it up.

  “How much do I owe you?” he asked.

  “Ten cents.”

  He paid her two silver dollars. “How many children are yours to feed tonight?”

  “Five.” She looked in disbelief at the money in her palm.

  “So many?”

  “One is my sister’s who was killed six months ago.” She crossed herself. “Two are my cousin Martinia’s children. I have them because where she works, she can’t keep them.”

  He nodded. She probably worked in a whorehouse. “You have a man?”

  She shook her head. “He ran off with a young girl for Mexico, I think.”

  After this first bite, he said, “He was a poor judge of women to leave such a good cook.”

  She rose and smiled at him. “What is your name?”

  “Slocum.”

  “That is all?”

  He nodded and took another bite. “What is yours?”

  “Dolores Madereya.”

  “Good to meet you, Dolores. Hug those children for me.”

  “I will.” Her face beamed. “They will pray for you at Mass.”

  “You think I need their prayers?”

  “Sí. I have seen some bad things that are ahead for
you. There is danger in the way.”

  “Do you see these men’s faces so I would know them?”

  “One never turns his head for me to see him.”

  “Could he have a patch on the one eye you don’t see?”

  She nodded. “Maybe.”

  “There are others?”

  “Sí.”

  “Gracias.” He left her and went to another saloon. Brujas like Dolores were to be listened to and he needed to heed her warning. Her concern showed. Would One-Eye be the worst? Or the Boosters and Sims? Time was ticking away. His line shack reunion with Miss Booster wasn’t far off.

  He downed the beer he’d ordered at the bar wondering what Mary had on her mind. It would soon be time to swing back by there for her. Damn, that woman’s words earlier in the plaza had set him on edge—he needed to be careful.

  18

  Mary had her head held high, wearing a shawl over it. She swept outside in the darkness, looking around for him. Spotting him leaning against the building at the corner, she headed for him, her heels clicking on the stone walk.

  He gave her the crook of his arm and she pointed eastward. Music spilled from behind the closed doors of the place. She paused, used her gloved hand to steady his face, and standing on her toes, kissed him on the mouth. His arms hugged her narrow form tight to him and he kissed her harder.

  When their faces separated, a slow smile crossed the thin line of her mouth. “I should keep you in a cage, so I could come home each day and get in with you.”

  “We going inside?” He motioned to the door, not interested in being her kept pet.

  “Yes, I want to dance with you.” She ran her gloved palms over his leather coat.

  “Fine.” He reached past her and undid the knob. It was cold standing out there. Even kissing, it was cold. Inside, they danced to waltzes and polkas. The crowded place bubbled with couples. Some were good dancers, others shuffled, but there was no serious line drawn between them. Most of the people in the room were Hispanics, but they were polite, and teased him some once they decided he was not hostile.

  A well-dressed man with gray temples came over when they were seated in a booth and introduced himself as Paul. Mary sat on Slocum’s lap as if to cling closer to him, like she wanted to be wrapped inside of him.