Slocum and the Long Ride (12 page)

That evening they had thin strips of meat browned over mesquite, then fried with onions, sweet peppers, and cilantro. Silva made stacks of flour tortillas on a grill.

Enough beans were made to have with the tortillas and still leave some to have for breakfast. They feasted on Silva's meal and ate till they were bloated. She put what was left of the beans in a pot, put a cover on it, and stoked enough ashes to keep it warm all night. Then she took Slocum's bedroll up the way, while his men talked about being careful in the days ahead on the trail.

When he went to slip off his boots and undress, he could tell she was crying. Lifting the cover, he leaned over and asked, “What is wrong?”

“No one ever did anything that nice for me in my whole life. I couldn't believe you'd ask her for that dress that she wore right there and then have her take it off too. It is such a beautiful dress. I hate to wear it out here. I may never own another that good.”

“Don't cry over that. You can cry,” he whispered, “about sad things.”

Crazy Mexican women, he loved them all. Hell, he loved most women, but the Spanish were the fieriest of them all in bed with a dick inside them. Whew, what a woman!

•   •   •

The next morning the two of them beat the sunrise to get up. Then she went down and bathed but left her dress on the bank this time, used a towel to dry, then wiggled into the dress. He squatted on the bank to watch her in the starlight. He liked to watch her do that.

She made fresh tortillas with last night's leftovers. Slocum's men staggered awake and in the cool pink light of predawn came and filled their cups with her coffee.

“I bet your husband misses you,” Ken said in a dry pre-coffee voice.

“No, my sister the widow cares for him when I am gone.” She laughed, tossing the sheet of flour and lard up in the air.

“She cares for him?”

“Sure, he is sweet to us both. Lenore is a woman—she needs attention too.”

“Damn he's lucky.”

“So are we, hombre. So are we.”

“I see the Sierra Madre outline this morning. You told us two days. Thanks for helping and feeding us.”

“You are fun to feed all of you.”

“Do you suppose he has scouts around here watching for men like us?” Slocum asked, coffee cup in his hand and sitting on his boot heels.

She drew a deep breath and chewed on her lower lip before she said, “He must know about his hacienda burning down and the loss of his men. He could have lookouts.”

Slocum agreed and told the men they needed to be close to their guns. They packed up after breakfast and headed on the road to the mountains that loomed more and more all day.

•   •   •

In a small settlement with a church he found her another butcher, who cut her meat. She bought more produce from women there. Before they left to catch the men, she told Slocum she wished to buy a candle and pray for their safety. He loaned her his silk kerchief to wear for a scarf on her head. She went inside the church, touched the holy water to her forehead, and crossed herself, then genuflected. She did it again at the line of small candles burning at the front near the altar. She placed the one she'd bought beside them and lit it.

At the rail she knelt and prayed for a short while, crossed herself again, and then hurried back to him standing hatless in the entranceway. Outside he replaced his hat and the kerchief she handed him under the noisy birds in the cottonwood trees.

“Better now?”

“I should have confessed my sins, but you didn't have all day.”

“I bet he forgives you.”

“He's a man, isn't he?”

Slocum chuckled. “I guess he is.”

“Good men forgive you, bad men beat and hurt you over nothing.”

He swung into the saddle. “I must be good.”

“Oh, Slocum you are a great good man. I don't want to think this will be over in a few days.”

They hurried to catch the others.

•   •   •

Slocum took a bath in the stream that evening before they went to bed. The mountain-base water was colder than that behind them. She shaved him and in the bedroll they had sex.

Afterward he lay back and thought about trips he'd made in and out of these great mountains. With Tom Horn the army scout and a dozen Chiricahua Apaches. Tom had lived with a squaw from their tribe in the White Mountains for several years. He knew what they thought. He spoke their language. Many said he should have been in charge instead of Al Sieber. He found two chiefs, Mano and Clell, and talked them and their people into coming back with them. But when they broke up the reservation, they sent them to San Carlos, and they all went back to Mexico. Tom blamed that on a know-it-all son of a bitch they put in charge who later quit the Indian service to run a newspaper in Tombstone. Tom could talk all day about the mess they'd made of the whole Apache deal. San Carlos was the last and worst asshole of the world. Saguaro cactus didn't even grow there.

•   •   •

Charlie Horse woke him in the night. “Quiet. There are some men around us. I think they plan to kill us at daylight. I will wake the others and tell them,” he whispered.

“Tell them to keep low and get away from their bedrolls. We may be able to kill some before the sun even lights the sky.”

Silva gripped his arm. “I didn't lead you into a trap.”

“Glad you prayed. May have saved us. Now, real quiet, slip over to our left and lay down beside that fallen tree. But move slow and careful.” She nodded, and threw over herself a dark blanket like the ones Plains Indians used as a buffalo robe, to hide under if she could get close enough to kill one of the intruders

She was in place. With his pants on, Slocum still was in the bedroll. Six-gun in his fist, he eased out of the sleeping bag on all fours and made his way to a large gnarled tree trunk. A man out in the night coughed. Then Slocum heard the quick whisp of an arrow, and another unseen man, farther down, screamed. Guns blazed, but they were not close enough to the camp. The orange flame of their barrels only made targets his men answered.

Then silence. Another man screamed down by the stream, then the splash of a body hit the water. Slocum knew the sound of his cry. A knife blade had found his back.

“They are disarmed,” Ken shouted. “Anyone hurt?”

Slocum sat down and put on his socks and boots, after dumping them to make sure no scorpion was inside. He also wiped off his soles first, so no sticklers were stuck in his feet.

“I'm okay,” the Kid said. “Thanks, Charlie Horse.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Gordon said.

“The one in the river is dead,” Ken said. Slocum decided he must have been wading out of the water.

“Charlie, you all right?” he called out.

“I am fine. But there are none of them alive now. What will we do with them?”

“Drag them across the stream by horseback and cave a bank on them over where that dry wash joins the river.”

“Thank God,” the Kid said. “I thought Slocum would want them buried.”

They all laughed. Silva got dressed and shook her head. “I must go to church more often.”

“Yes. All over.” He hugged and kissed her to reassure her that it was indeed over, for then anyway.

The bodies buried, they rounded up their attackers' horses to take along. Gordon picked a big roan horse from them to ride himself. His horse was weary from packing him, he said. Slocum agreed. They found a total of seventy-six dollars on the men. They gave that to Silva, and she couldn't believe they had done that.

“
Gracias, amigos.
You all are too sweet to me,” she said. “But now I must ride a horse and can no longer hug him,” she added, gesturing toward Slocum.

They laughed at her and each man hugged and kissed her. Then they loaded up and rode on.

Slocum knew they needed to post guards each night. There were five dead men less to worry about anyway. Gomez might be gathering a new army, but he wouldn't find many in the mountains—he would have to recruit them in the flatlands. He would need guns and ammo, plus horses for most that he hired, and food, plus he'd need to get some
putas
up there to keep the men around camp. He'd be a while doing all that. Plus he would need money too. Slocum figured his last fortune had gone up in smoke at the hacienda fire sale.

They needed to cut him out before he got the plan going. In the saddle as the tough pacing horse pulled the steep trail hard, already the air was cooler and he could smell pines.
Gomez, I am coming.

That afternoon they camped at a large spring with a wide meadow surrounded by pines, with good grass for their animals. Slocum had them clean all the guns they'd taken off the outlaws. That would mean more firepower if they engaged them. The two single-shot rifles were worn out. He put the barrels in a wedge between rocks and bent them, so they could serve no one.

Two good Winchester repeaters that used .44 rimfire ammo were the best catch. Ken and Gordon took them and split the ammunition they'd found. The Kid found a great Bowie knife and practiced throwing it at a pine tree until he could stick it deep in the bark.

The Kid also gave Silva a small .30-caliber Colt. “You can shoot it, Silva. It won't kick much.”

“Good. I know how to shoot.
Muchos gracias, hombre.
”

Slocum squatted down beside her making tortillas on her knees. “How far is he from here?”

“Maybe ten miles from here around the mountain one way; there is trail goes south. He has a big meadow and his place is at the back of it. He can see you coming a half mile away unless you come through the pines. But it would be rugged.”

He nodded. “Charlie and I may go scout it out.”

“Oh be careful. He is much tougher than those men he sent to kill us.”

“I'll be careful.”

Next he had a parley with his men over supper.

They were around him in a circle. “Ken, you, Gordon, and the Kid move way down this meadow and build a fort, not too high, with dead logs, but one you can get behind and shoot from. Then you four don't build big cooking fires. But be on guard night and day.”

“What are you going to do?” the Kid asked.

“Charlie and I will try to sneak up on Gomez.”

“You don't need us?” Gordon asked.

“Not yet. We need to know the layout of his place and how many are up here. You four keep low and don't let them take you asleep.”

“We won't,” Ken promised him.

•   •   •

They left in the night, when the moon rose. Both he and Charlie chose plain-colored brown horses that might blend better than Slocum's reddish pacing horse and Charlie's black. Two big owls soared through the pines and hooted for each other. Bats came in clouds looking for insects but never bothered them. Silva had told Slocum that large granite boulders were at the entrance to the meadow, and when he found them, he could see beyond them a wide-open silver valley of many acres. They took their horses well back in the woods and tied them so they'd be there when they needed them.

Skirting along the wood's edge, Slocum knew no one could see them, and they went at a lope. He carried his Spencer and Charlie his bow. When they paused to rest and catch their breath, there were no lights on in the low-walled log building and still hours till dawn. Standing in the cool night, he and Charlie skirted the cabin and found a dozen horses in the corral.

Charlie took his knife and almost cut through each girth on the saddles, at the top rail. Slocum approved. There were some rifles in the scabbards. He got mud and jammed the barrels full then wiped the outsides clean and replaced them in the scabbards.

He suspected there might be ten men inside, from the number of saddles. The five they buried had been one-third of Gomez's whole gang. At the moment he wished he'd brought some blasting powder packages along and taken them out right then while they snored. Oh well, better luck next time.

He needed to lure them out into a trap next. Charlie stopped him with his arm out. They both froze as a woman came out, raised her skirt, squatted, and peed, then went back inside, never noticing them behind the corral.

He winked at Charlie. “Let's go.”

•   •   •

Back at camp he explained what they'd done and how he and Charlie wanted them to rush out to get at Gomez's men. Then they'd get dumped off their horses or their rifles would blow up in their faces. The rest they could pick off. He and Charlie would be in place to take them if they came back to the ranch house.

Everyone agreed the plan should work. They rested that day, and Slocum took Silva up in the forest away from them, with a blanket to lie on and to make love on as well. A leisurely day to kiss and look at the azure sky above, then have sex.

“Where will you go when this is all over?” she asked.

“Arizona. The Apaches have been raising hell up there. I have a lady I am responsible for who teaches school and may need to go home if things have quieted down.”

“Will you marry her?”

“No. I have no casa for a wife. No way to earn a living. I would be a poor choice for a husband. Her husband was killed by bank robbers getting away, and then she learned he had another wife and some children. So she came to teach school out here. I found her in the path of the Apaches and took her to a place to be safe.”

On her belly beside him, she smiled and shook her head. “You are a handy man. Does she make good love?”

“No better than you.”

“Do you tell all your women that?”

“I don't tell the others anything.”

She laughed and then chewed on a grass stem. “I bet you don't.”

They took a siesta and afterward went back so she could make supper.

•   •   •

Late in the night, Slocum and Charlie returned to their place at Gomez's ranch. But Slocum only counted eight saddles—no one had changed girths on the saddles, but one Winchester was gone.

Had Gomez and one other slipped away again?

He and Charlie whispered about it when a woman came out. Charlie caught her by the mouth to cut off any screams and they dragged her behind a shed.

“You scared the piss out of me,” she whispered angrily.

“How many women are in there?”

“Two more.”

“Be quiet and bring them out. But if they wake the men, they will die in there. When you bring them out, go behind this shed and get on the ground. When did Gomez ride out?” Slocum asked.

“Just before those bastards of his raped us.”

Good, the women would now have a reason to leave. “Be quiet or die.”

She nodded and in the starlight made a face about her wet dress front before she went back inside.

In a short time the three came out. Two were still dressing, and Charlie showed them were to get to.

Angry that his man had escaped him again, Slocum lighted a charge and tossed the bomb inside the door, then ran out back with the crouched women and his man. The explosion blew the sod roof off and rained dirt on them.

“They won't rape anyone again,” Slocum said. “We have to fix the saddles before you can use them. Charlie, go get our crew. We missed that bastard again. You ladies can make breakfast for us.”

“Who are you?” the sassy one asked.

“My name's Slocum. That's Charlie Horse. There are more coming and another woman.”

“Will we be free when this is over?”

“Free as the birds. Why?”

“After how badly they treated us, I am going back to my village and be a wife again.”

He laughed. “And the first exciting offer comes along, you will ride away again.”

“Not me. I swear to God not ever again.” She threw her arms in the air and went with the others to make food.

Charlie had gone to get the rest of their gang.

Slocum went where the women were setting up to cook outside. “Where did he go?”

They shook their heads. “He never said anything,” the leader said, “but his men didn't come back, and it made him mad at all of us. It wasn't our fault they ran away.”

“No, they all died charging our camp.”

“Good enough for them.”

The others agreed.

His crew arrived. Gordon examined the corpses, and the others got all their money—fifty dollars. He paid it to the women, and the men fixed them three girths for them to ride out of there on. Except for the loss of their things in the explosion, they thanked them.

•   •   •

After they ate, Slocum noticed the Kid had convinced Annette to slip off and share her body with him. Everyone was amused. She was the cutest of the three and the least mouthy. Sassy had mentioned to him that Gomez might try to hide at Zamora's camp in the north. Zamora was one of the rebel outlaws that operated out of the mountains and was mostly left alone by Federales because of his fierce defense of his region. Two expeditions by the military had ended in failure and the loss of many soldiers, so Zamora sat like a king in the high country. But whether or not he would hide Gomez was dependent entirely on what Gomez had left to pay him for protection.

Slocum had enough worries about how to find this outlaw. But he wasn't ready to give up. They saddled horses for the girls, and they had enough food from the hideout to make it back to civilization. The women thanked him and his men before they rode out. Slocum decided to leave the unnecessary horses in the meadow, with water and grass, to fend for themselves. A horse herd was hard to move fast.

“You were only a short time from catching him,” Silva said.

“If I'd had a bomb with me the night before, he'd be singing in the devil's choir.”

“Don't blame yourself,” she said, riding close to his left leg. “You will get him. He can't be this lucky for long.”

“He must have a bird telling him when we get close.”

“His luck will run on. Don't be so upset. You will find a way to catch him.”

“I'll be fine, Silva. I intend to run him down.”

She shrugged and reined back some.

He turned back and nodded to her. No need in upsetting her; she'd been good inspiration and great company that he appreciated.

Soon they crossed another range. His tracker, Charlie, was satisfied they were getting close to the pair.

So to hurry things Slocum sent him ahead and held up until Charlie had a good start and they fell in behind. His plan was that Gomez might not suspect one rider, who was an Indian. But they didn't catch up with Gomez. Charlie pulled back and reminded Slocum that they were pushing their horses to death and that it would soon be dark. They should close down their pursuit.

Slocum agreed. “Make camp. We'll try again tomorrow.” He pointed out a place, and they all agreed.

•   •   •

In his bedroll with him, Silva was naked, resting half on his chest and sipping kisses. “You are sure upset.”

“Twice I missed that bastard, and he probably will get away this time.” He could hardly stand himself over not getting Gomez.

“I keep saying he can't run away from you. You will get him.” She kissed him sweetly.

“Where will he go?”

“I am not sure where he will hide, but you will find him. Now, jack up your tool and get busy. We can't waste tonight.”

He clutched her face and kissed her hard. One thing he needed to do was forget Gomez, and she was the prize he could use to get over his depression. They were soon one, and his mind whirled away to savor her passion and his own. This sweet woman who had been through so much herself might pull him out of his own ditch. She completely gave her all to him every time they had sex. Not only willing, but ready, for fierce passion, and able to extract it from him. Did her
older
husband realize what she was? He probably never knew, but she was a gem. He about laughed. She had told them that he had her sister until she got back—he might not even miss her.

•   •   •

In the morning he spoke to the other men. “We may be on a wild-goose chase. I told Dan I'd get him, but the way things look now, so tangled, he may escape us. Any of you want to go home?”

“Hell, no,” Ken said, and the rest agreed.

“All right, let's hit the trail.”

That evening they reached a small village called Alto. They left Silva and Gordon in camp to watch things. Charlie was off scouting, so Slocum, Ken, and the Kid went to the local cantina and drank some homemade beer. The Kid screwed a young whore there and came back to the table.

In a whisper he said, slipping into the booth, “She said he was here yesterday.”

“Did she know where he went?”

His voice still low, he said, “She thinks she can find out. I told her we'd pay her five pesos.” The Kid shook his head. “That's a fortune to her.”

“How far did she have to go to find out?”

He turned his palms up and shook his head. “I don't know. But it might be a lead.”

Ken put his hand on the Kid's shoulder. “Screw another one. Maybe you can learn some more.”

Amused, Slocum thanked the Kid. The big man who owned the place was coming with more of his horse piss.

“Ah, hombres. You need a refill.”

“Sure,” Slocum said. “Listen, was there a man named Gomez in here yesterday?”

“I know him. He was here, but he didn't stay long. You need him?”

“Where could we find him?” Slocum half rose and went for some money.

The man smiled. In a place were money was so short, the little whore had only charged the Kid fifty cents for a piece of ass. Money talked.

“You ever been to Loma Linda?”

Slocum had twenty dollars in his palm. The man nodded.

“How do I get there?” Slocum asked.

“I can draw you a map. Come over to the bar.”

“Fill the mugs and I will go over there.”

“Sí.”

The man found a sale bill to write on. “You know he is a mean bastard?”

“That's why I want him.”

“Here is Alto. Where you are is here. Take the right fork of the road going north and it will take you there.”

“You know where he lives when he is there?”

“They say he has a brother named Guermo who has a business there. I have not been there in years.”

“How far is it?”

“Two days' ride on a burro.” The man smiled. “I never had a good horse to ride over there.”

The man showed him two mountains to cross and some other points he recalled from the road there. Slocum realized the Madres were vast.