Slocum and the Long Ride (9 page)

“Did you settle anything down there?”

“Gomez is a powerful force. But like these Apaches, he is controllable.”

She nodded. They ordered their meal and talked about her meeting some people and how her parents in Kansas were well and they had gotten her letter saying that she'd arrived.

“The mail does continue to come through,” she said.

“Yes. But I am surprised there aren't more troops down here to protect the country.”

“How will they get here?” she asked. “There is no train coming through on unseen tracks.”

He agreed. The lady understood many deeply thought things about the world they lived in. What a delightful companion he had to share a meal with, besides her beauty that turned men's heads. And she was his to savor. My, how this event beat spying on old outlaws below the border.

“After lunch, if I have to bathe in the creek, I am getting a bath.” He shook his head over his soggy condition.

“It has stopped raining.”

“Good.”

“What are your plans?”

Under his breath he said, “Get a bath and entertain you in your room tonight.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “That would be wonderful.”

He reached over and squeezed her hand. “It will be.”

The meal arrived, and they ate the hot food and washed it down with strong coffee. Then he walked her back to the hotel and left to find a bath.

There was no bathhouse open in town. The Chinaman who had run one had left for parts unknown. Slocum took a towel from the hotel, and on the way bought a new shirt and pants that he found in a mercantile store. He went to the creek and located an isolated spot to wade in and wash his body and hair. Dressed under the cottonwoods, he slung his gun belt over his shoulder and headed back to find a barber. There was one waiting for him in his chair when he walked up the busy street and found him.

“Nice day,” the man said, swinging a sheet over Slocum.

He soon had his haircut and his face closely shaved, while hearing all the gossip about the military's action or lack of it. And the story about the woman who ran off on her husband with another man, leaving him five children to raise by himself. And how she should have been driven back to her duty with a buggy whip popping her on the ass the whole trip back.

Slocum paid the barber, still amused at his solution to the desertion case. It was suppertime and he went to take Sandy out to eat. The streets were full of children playing and shouting. Wagons loaded with household goods parked all over town waiting to return to their places. The facilities of the town were badly stressed.

Diseases would soon fester in this sore spot if no one moved. Slocum might need to move Sandy to a better place. Tucson was no place to take her. Dead animals rotted on the street there. Wastewater puddled in the same place. Tombstone was a sin palace full of whores and their consorts—he didn't have many options.

She met him in the hotel lobby, and they returned to the same café. She mentioned that she felt it was the best place in town, though like the others it ran out of simple things.

The waiter told them they had fresh beef but no potatoes, and he could offer them rice or brown beans instead. “I am so sorry, but getting produce here is extremely hard, and Tombstone has the money to outbid us.”

Slocum agreed, and they ordered rice with gravy.

“It is so good to have you here.”

“Good to be here and only hid out from the Apaches and not bandits.”

“I would love to see Mexico.”

“It is a different land. The ordinary people down there are delightful. The outlaws have sharp teeth.”

She nodded. “You have seen lots of that?”

“Too much. I wish I had a Garden of Eden I could move you to where you'd be safer.”

“Why? I am managing here.”

“This town is overloaded. A simple disease takes hold here, and it will become a wildfire under the current conditions.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Where could I go?”

“And be safe? I don't know, or we'd be on our way there.”

She agreed, and they finished their meal. In the bleeding sunset, they went back to her room at the hotel. Finally behind the closed door, they were clinched in each other's arms and kissing, hungry for more and more.

“I had to come back,” he whispered and kissed her harder.

“Why didn't we meet in Kansas and run off to live in this place you suggested? I would never have had to bury him and cry a widow's tears. To have traveled by stage to Bowie and us then to be thrown together in the midst of this Apache uprising, to have the sweet moments of the personal life we have shared . . . I thanked God for those events. I don't care if we break the law of Moses. Here in your arms is heaven to me, heaven on earth. A song I never found even with him. We made love, but it was simple and very mechanical. You are a thunderstorm and I hear it approaching us.”

They sat in a chair, dressed and holding each other. Only the reasoning blasting in his brain, saying over and over again,
You can't keep her
.

He rode the next day out to Dan Delight's ranch and found him and his hands fortified like an army fort, with wagons overturned and barriers set up all around to deflect a direct horseback raid.

Slocum frowned at all the reinforcements at the ranch.

“They ambushed an army patrol,” Dan said

“But have they even ridden by here?”

“No, but we're ready. What did you learn in Mexico? Come in the house.”

“I learned that with a handful of men we can take on his fortress and close them down.”

“We can't do it right now and leave the ranch vulnerable.” He poured some whiskey into separate tin cups on the table.

“I understand. If you could hire me six tough men, I'd go do it and end his reign over those people and his raids up here. He sent some men after me, and I owe him an eye for the eye they gouged out of a poor girl who was with me down there.”

Dan frowned. “Who was she?”

“A young woman who distracted a guard while I found all the arms Gomez has for the defense of the hacienda. We were later attacked and she lost her eye. She is in good care now, but she won't ever get her vision back.”

“You can still get women to help you do anything.” Dan shook his head in disbelief. “I can't leave here with them out there. I damn sure want him knocked out of business, but I can't go right now.”

“Even a powerful Mexican can figure out why I looked at his fort, and it will be tighter and harder to get inside.”

“Slocum, all I have is this ranch. That bastard Gomez not only stole my cattle, but he has hurt many people in Mexico flexing his power. He and his men killed a man whom I considered my adopted brother, Alfredo Morales, and sold his wife into slavery as a whore. She was killed before I could have her rescued. He has raped innocent children and then he also sold many more in the white slave trade.”

“He needs to be removed.”

“Oh yes, he does,” Dan said. “Tell me, they say the Apaches stole the gold at that mine they struck?”

“They got a good lesson on what gold could buy for them—guns, ammunition, food and other goods, horses—hell, they know the whole system now. They rob a stage, they get the money and gold in the strongboxes.”

“I'll be damned. All these years I thought they were ignorant.”

“They aren't. Give me three tough men and I'll find the others and get this Gomez. If you want him wiped off the map, we need to do it now.”

“That would leave us awfully short of guns to defend this ranch. They finished off an army patrol up by the Whetstones.”

“That army patrol were probably foreigners and they rode into a trap. They have not gone against anything barricaded like this place.”

“Hell, I'll get you two. Where will you get the rest?”

“I'll have to hire them—somewhere.”

Dan brought him two men, Ken Highland, a Texan who Slocum decided probably was on the run from the law. Tall, thick-set, with blue eyes. Judging by the way he wore a gun, he'd make a good hand. He spit tobacco aside and in a rusty voice said, “We going down there for a party?”

“Damn right, and when we get the place flattened, we will celebrate Mexican style.”

“Good enough. I heard enough about you. I'll foller you.”

“Thanks.”

Jewels Cline was a bucktoothed kid. Skinny as a rail and maybe eighteen. His too-long blond hair was like straw sticking out from under his hatband. He had only fuzz on his cheeks and a lazy right eye.

“You see all right?” Slocum asked.

He smiled. “I can see. You want to see me shoot for you?”

“Sure,” Slocum said. “One of you guys set up some bottles down there against that hill. That suit you?”

“Fuck yes.”

The Kid swaggered around until the bottles were set up. Then he nodded with a smug set to his lips, drew his pistol, and rapid-fired five rounds—four struck brown glass; the other one was close, spitting dust beside the empty bottle.

“Good enough,” Slocum said. The boy could sure hit what he aimed at.

Slocum made certain each man had two pistols and a working rifle with ammo. He told them he would meet them in three days near the Willows. But they were not to go into the saloon/whorehouse on the Mexican border, deep in a canyon with some water seeps so that willows flourished.

Dan was supplying Slocum with three packhorses and the food they'd need for two weeks. He told Dan's two men that he would find them at the Willows and take them to a safe haven. No one else needed to know anything about their business there.

•   •   •

Slocum left them that night and rode back to Patagonia. When Sandy descended out the hotel front door, he met her and they went to breakfast. The squatters and their wagons were still parked all over in the crowded streets.

“How has it gone so far?”

“I have half an army, but I need to hire two or three more specialists I know.”

“Specialists?” She held the coffee cup at her mouth waiting for his answer.

“I need someone who can shoot a bow and arrow.”

“Where is he?”

“No doubt sobering up in a wickiup over by the fort.”

“Who else?” She smiled at him.

“A big burly Mexican named Gordon who farms among the Mormons up at St. David.”

“Will they come help you?”

“For a fee they would do anything.”

“I see. How long will you be gone this time?”

“Not over two weeks I hope.”

“Things are calming down. I may have to go back to my schoolhouse or lose my job.”

“You need any money?”

She put her hands out in protest. “I will be fine. If I am not here, then you will know where I will be.”

“That's fine. I can find you. If you go back, be careful. All this Apache warfare may not be over.”

“I understand. Will you sleep a few hours in my room?”

“A few. I need to get over to the fort and find my man.”

Back in the room she helped him undress. “Should I wake you?”

“By three o'clock.”

She nodded, putting aside his clothing. “I will wake you by then.”

Last sight he had of her was sitting up proper in a chair and reading a leather-bound book. He needed no rocking to go to sleep. In late afternoon she awoke him.

He dressed, and she turned her back until he cleared his throat.

“Every time you leave me, I almost cry. Then you come back and I am elated.”

“Sorry, but I need to close this business in Mexico while I can. He's vulnerable now—but he could get better reinforced and it would take an army to shake him.”

“Ride careful. I will pray for you.”

“Thanks.” He kissed her and then left.

•   •   •

In an hour Slocum was back in the saddle and headed for Fort Huachuca. There was breed who was settled near the fort and lived with a Mexican wife.

He found them at sundown. And with a warm smile Charlie Horse invited him to get down. They went and squatted under a small mesquite tree.

“I need someone who can shoot arrows.”

“I know one.” He grinned.

“This is in Mexico.”

He made a solemn nod. “When?”

“Meet me at the Willows in two days. There are two men from Dan's ranch going to be there waiting. A bucktoothed kid, and a big Texan, Ken Highland, is in charge.”

“Who else will you take along?”

“Gordon.”

“He's tough enough. I will be there.”

“Does your wife need some money?” Slocum drew out ten dollars and handed it to him for her.

“Thanks,
amigo
. That will do her. I will meet you at Willows.”

•   •   •

After hugging Charlie's wife, Slocum left there and in the growing darkness rode on north through the desert to St. David. Under the moonlight, he crossed the muddy-bottomed San Pedro River and got down his bedroll to sleep until dawn.

He woke before daybreak, put up his bedroll, and rode the pacing horse up the lane to an adobe jacal. A huge man stood in the doorway and frowned, then swept the dark hair from his face. “Where were you last night?”

“Sleeping down by the river, why?”

“Why didn't you come up here?”

“Didn't want to bother you or Alma.”

Shorter than him by over a foot, his wife ducked her head past the man in the doorway. “That would not have bothered us. Get in here and eat.”

“I am coming.” Amused, Slocum hitched his horse and came through the yard gate.

“What are you doing about these Apaches running around?”

“Avoiding them.” He hugged her tight.

“Where have you been?” she asked, guiding him inside.

“Oh, around.”

“Around wild women I bet. Sit down. We have lots of food or I'll make more.”

“I never saw when you didn't have enough. How are the Mormon and Catholic getting along?”

She shook her head. “Just fine.”

“She says that, but she wants me to take on more wives.”

Her threatening finger in Gordon's face drew a big laugh from both men. They settled in and ate breakfast.

“You must need help,” she said, passing the biscuits again to Slocum.

“I have a deal needs attention.”

“Oh, needs attention.” She took back the platter.

“There is a bandit down in Mexico needs removing. Everyone up here is watching for Apaches who they can't find. I want Gordon to go south with me for a week or so and help me straighten this matter out.”

She nodded and said to her husband, “I can do the irrigation this week.”

“Good. I am meeting the others tomorrow at the Willows.”

“I can be there,” Gordon said.

“What will you do now?” Alma asked Slocum.

“Oh, I'm going back to Patagonia and see about a friend, then I'll head for the Willows.”

“Are there lots of folks staying at Patagonia?”

“Yes. The Apaches have been prowling around there. They struck a mine or two earlier. They attacked the two of us before we reached there over a week ago. But no one has seen them since the attack on the army patrol. You know they are like the wind.”

“There are several folks from around here who live out on scattered ranches, who are staying here in town until all is clear. They are the most vulnerable.”

He agreed and finished his coffee, then rose to his feet. “You make great coffee for a person doesn't drink it,” he told Alma.

They all three laughed.

•   •   •

He rode back to Patagonia and joined Sandy in the hotel in mid-afternoon. She hugged him hard inside the room. “How are things going?”

“Good. I have my strike force assembled, and in a week we should be through.”

“I received a letter from the school board. They said I should stay here until all reports of Apaches show they are gone or that they are subdued.”

“Good.” He moved her shoulder-length hair back and kissed her again. With her hands around his neck, she clung to him.

“You look so tired today. Will you rest some here?”

“I can do that. Thanks. I will be all right.”

He sprawled on top of her bed and she read a book while he slept.

After his long nap they went for supper at sundown. Long shadows were cast down the street, and the children quieted from their playing. One donkey brayed loudly to another. The restaurant was crowded, but they found a table.

The waiter took their order and they sipped on hot coffee.

“When will this be all over?”

Slocum shook his head. “I have no idea, but with this many soldiers in the field it should end soon.”

She nodded, then their food was there.

The food was good, considering the problems the merchants had securing enough via the freight wagons, which had been stalled by the Apache activity but were now guarded by the black soldier patrols to get them through to the overfilled town from Tucson and the east.

After the meal, he kissed her lightly on the boardwalk and went for his pacing horse. It was a few hours' ride to the Willows, and he wanted to meet the others quietly there.

His plans were slowly forming how he must divide his force and then bring them together again outside the Gomez hacienda. It needed to be carefully arranged not to draw attention. But Gomez only knew him, so perhaps that would work all right.