"And so we ride for my Paco! J.D. Blaze must die, and his bitch will die wearing my brand."
Chapter 17
J.D. and Kate rode hard with their prisoner across rolling, treeless hills except where cottonwoods grew along the San Pedro. Paco lapsed into a sullen silence once it became apparent that he was and would remain in their custody.
J.D. knew this country. He knew a shortcut to Whiskey Bend. They traversed a narrow trail that clung to the side of a mountain. Below the trail, a prehistoric river had carved what was now bone-dry land. A seventy-foot drop straight down onto jagged rock if a horse’s hoof came too close to the edge or if the ground decided to give.
They rode single file. J.D. took point. A visibly nervous Paco rode behind him with Kate boxing him in from behind. Loosened stones rattled down the edge of the cliff. The shortcut seemed to take an eternity.
Then they were back on solid ground. They picked up speed again.
Every time J.D. glanced in Paco’s direction, the Mexican bandit glared fury at him. Paco understood. Rosa alone might attempted the cliff-hanging trail had she been on her own but to take on both J.D. and Kate in a gunfight, she’d want backup and those riding with her would not be up to daring that trail.
They had bought themselves maybe an hour’s lead.
J.D. hoped that would be enough. Eventually, though, they had to give their horses a rest. He called for a fifteen minute break after a half day’s ride. They staked out their horses on a patch of grass in the shade where the only sound was the whispering leaves of the tall cottonwoods.
He and Kate alternated keeping Paco covered. They unsaddled and rubbed their animals down with handfuls of grass. They filled their canteens from the shallow, clean waters of one of the few rivers in North American that flowed from south to north. The San Pedro ran clear with monsoon run-off from the mountains in Mexico. The horses drew water downstream.
There had been little practicality in attempting conversation during the hard riding. Now, Kate spoke as if Paco was not present.
"I don’t know, J.D. Maybe we should’ve hooked up with those soldiers and had them lead us out. We might’ve got Rosa that way."
J.D. sighed, his eyes appealing to the heavens for understanding.
"We discussed that. You said you didn’t want to split the twenty-five grand reward that many ways."
"And you said that made sense to you too."
"Well, it did at the time."
"So what do we do now, J.D.?"
Paco laughed.
"I tell you what you do, you crazy gringos. You let Paco go and then you ride for your lives and hope that my Rosa does not catch you. She will kill you, Senor Blaze." His eyes shifted to Kate. He licked his lips. His eyes glittered. "She will do worse to you, Señora,. Even I, the great Paco," he slapped his chest for emphasis, "could not save you from the wrath of Rosa Diablo."
Kate said, "I’ve got to go take a pee."
She strode off behind a stand of small trees and vegetation that bordered the river bank.
Both men discreetly turned away.
Paco said, "Me too. I gotta take me a pee. How about you, hombre?"
J.D. said. "Okay. I’ll do my business and you do yours."
Paco gestured with his bound wrists.
"But what about this? I must, well, it is only that I must, how do you say, make from the bottom, no?"
J.D. said, "Oh, what the hell."
He stepped forward and used his knife to cut the strip of rawhide binding Paco’s wrists. The strip was long enough to simply retie after Paco had—
The outlaw moved with incredible speed. He pivoted on one foot. The other leg extended straight out so that in its broad swing the foot caught J.D. on the side of the head, knocking him on his ass. J.D. shook his head once, twice to clear the fog, to let the world settle on its axis. He leapt to his feet. By that time Paco had made it to his horse. Paco mounted bareback on the run. He touched his spurs to the horse’s flanks. With a startled jump the horse took off running.
J.D. similarly leapt onto his stallion to give chase. The open country inclined away from the river. Paco rode like the devil but he did not have enough of a head start. His mount was no match for the stallion. At a thundering full-out gallop, J.D. overtook Paco in little more than an eighth of a mile.
Hurtling along side by side, J.D. flung himself off the stallion, right into Paco. They went tumbling to the ground. Each rolled a few times, raising dust before coming to their feet. Paco charged at J.D. with his fists swinging but he was no fighter. A wild roundhouse right was easily blocked with a raised left, leaving Paco open for J.D.’s haymaker to his jaw that knocked Paco onto his ass.
Hoofbeats. Kate rode up.
J.D. said, "Uh-oh. You’re in for it now, Paco. Me too, I reckon."
Kate dismounted. She walked up to J.D. first.
"What the hell is going on? I can’t leave you alone with the prisoner for three frigging minutes while I answer a call of nature? What the hell, Jehoram?"
Paco stood and massaged his jaw which bore the red imprint of J.D.’s fist.
He said with a puzzled frown, "Jehoram? Who is this Jehoram? That is your name, J.D.? Jehoram...what?"
J.D. said, "You mind your own damn business." And to Kate, "Listen, hon. I can explain. Everyone was answering a call of nature. Before I knew it—"
She said, "Aw, forget it. I reckon there are certain things about you that I just have to accept if I’m going to be your wife."
She strode up to Paco, who lurched back a step with sudden trepidation. He yanked the sombrero from his head and held it in his hands, to his chest.
"Señora, please! I saw what you did to Santone last night when you club him to death. Leave your gun in its holster! Paco promises not to try to escape again. It is natural for a prisoner to try, is it not?"
Kate said, "Shut up. If I draw iron on you, mister, it will be to kill you. Do you understand that?"
"Sí. Paco understands, big time!"
"Good." She took a step closer. "I was enjoying the first pleasurable moments of personal privacy that I’ve been allowed in quite some time. I’m starting to relax, the birds are singing, the waters of the river resonate within me. Everything was perfect...for about ten seconds."
"Por favor, señora,. My apologies—"
"That’s not good enough, Paco. You’re not like my husband, who despite his worldly exterior has a kind and considerate heart. You on the other hand are a grubby, vicious, unwashed ruffian."
"Si, señora. Paco has many shortcomings."
The bandit was going along to get along, not sure what was coming next except that the woman standing before him was building up such a head of steam, you could practically see it hissing out of her ears.
Kate said, "What I’m saying is, Paco, is that a brute like you could never appreciate the exquisite peace that comes when one is experiencing the harmony of nature. I wanted to experience that for only, oh what, maybe three or four minutes? What I got was about thirty seconds and a sloppy pee."
J.D. said, "Uh oh," again. He knew his woman.
Kate left hand grasped a fistful of Paco’s tunic to steady him, whereupon she delivered a powerful back hand slap to one side of his face, followed by an open palm slap of equal power to the other cheek. She repeated that, the second set of slaps packing enough ferocity to drop Paco to his knees when she released his tunic.
Paco spat out a tooth and a stream of blood. He gazed up at her with glazed eyes.
She said, "Do not try to escape again, Paco. Do you understand me? I mean, do you truly understand?"
Paco gripped his sombrero to his chest in near reverence.
"I hear and obey, señora. I am your obedient lapdog."
Kate grimaced. "That won’t be necessary. Just don’t try to escape again. All right, boys, we’ve wasted enough time here. Let’s saddle up and hit the trail."
They returned to their horses.
While keeping a watchful eye on Paco, J.D
. managed a wink in Kate’s direction.
"Nice work, sugar."
Kate returned the wink.
"And you know what?" she whispered with a discreet nod at Paco. "I think that sick puppy actually enjoyed me slapping him down!"
Chapter 18
When they reached Whiskey Bend, the sun was a golden orb sinking into the horizon, its fading rays softening the rocky harshness of the mountains to the east with a rosette patina. Low clouds to the west shone like pure gold.
They reined up a few yards short of the town limits. Ahead of them, a few horses lazed at the trough and hitching post in front of the saloon. The clang of a smithy’s hammer was ringing out the day. A workboy was unloading sacks of grain behind the Feed Store.
Kate said, "Kind of quiet for a payday."
J.D. nodded. "Something’s not right. Let’s ride in but keep an eye out for trouble. Rosa will be burning up the miles to get here." He glanced at Paco. "You’ve been real cooperative. Don’t get any ideas now just because we’re taking you into town and you think there are places to hide...because there aren’t. Savvy?
Kate spoke confidently before Paco could respond. "He understands all right." She rested her hand on the grip of her holstered sidearm.
As they rode in, Paco drew himself up straight in the saddle, emanating his usual pride and arrogance.
"I would never escape now, gringo. What would be the point? All I have to do is sit and wait. You’re right. My Rosa, she is coming for me. I tell you again. You do not want to be here where Rosa rides into town. You should keep riding south. It is your only chance."
Kate told Paco, "Stop talking."
"Si, señora."
Their horses clattered over a small wooden bridge that crossed an arroyo. Then they were in among the scattered buildings of the town.
J.D. said, "There’s our welcoming committee."
On the front steps of the hotel stood the lean figure of Belton, clothed in his Eastern finery of frock coat and vest. Beside him was the stooped figure of old Doc Cornish.
J.D., Kate and their prisoner drew up before them.
Belton’s eyes narrowed. "Where’s the woman? Rosa Diablo? Did you kill her?"
Paco chuckled as if at a jape.
"Nobody kills my Rosa. You want her? You just wait, gringos. Rosa will be here soon enough and she will bring hell with her."
"Things got complicated," J.D. told Belton. "The stage. Did the payroll make it through? We expected the town would be jumping tonight with drunken cowboys with money to burn."
Doc Cornish said, "That’s happening about a half hour up the road in Tombstone. They got a big old secure brick bank there that the mining syndicate had built. They took the money straight on through."
Belton added, "The big money calling the shots sent a rider to intercept the stage and have it roll right on through Whiskey Bend, given the fact that they’d already lost two men out there on the trail. So that’s where the cowboys have gone to collect and spend their pay."
Doc added, "Much to the chagrin of the owner of the local saloon. Even counting my patronage today, the poor fellow suffered a devastating economic loss."
Sending the payroll on to Tombstone made sense. It was not very long ago that a prospector named Ed Schieffelin was told by the soldiers at Fort Huachuca that he’d find nothing but his own tombstone if he tried prospecting in Apache country. Ed ignored their advice and went on to hit a silver vein that proved to be the mother lode of all mother lodes. The small-time prospectors were soon elbowed aside by the mining corporations out of San Francisco and back east. There had never been anything like it. The mines worked twenty-four hours a day. Tombstone was a thriving metropolis with everything from its own Chinatown, a large residential community, churches, a thriving downtown where national touring acts played the Bird Cage Theater, after which one could go to the ice cream parlor or visit the bowling alley. There was even a public swimming pool. And of course the infamous strip of nightlife where one could nightly spot the likes of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday patrolling the boardwalk. If the mines ever played out or flooded, Tombstone would become a ghost town overnight. But presently it was a city. The main contender for state capitol when the Territory was granted statehood. It only made sense for the big money ranchers to seek better protection for their money than could be provided by a shabby little cow town like Whiskey Bend.
J.D. and Kate tended to avoid the big towns. J.D. never felt comfortable when hemmed in by too much civilization. He needed wide open spaces where you could see trouble coming from a distance and be ready when it arrived. Something in him couldn’t breathe when he was crowded on all sides by too many folks. You never knew who among the passing throng could be the one to stick a blade in your back for the price of whatever was in your pocket. There were two classes of troublemakers to be wary of in the big towns, by J.D.’s reckoning. The outlaws and the lawmen. They were the ones who could bring him trouble. Everyone else was content to mind their own business. Kate understood, so they generally stayed to smaller towns like Whiskey Bend. Another factor was that there was less competition in their line of work. A city like Tombstone was overcrowded with guns for hire.
Kate eyed Belton. "The cavalry lost two men? Apaches?"
Belton shook his head, no.
"Not according to the trooper who had taken command. A mere corporal! He acted as if he were doing me a favor by even stopping here. But the stage driver insisted since I do, after all, represent the company."
Doc said, "Pay no mind to Belton here. He and the corporal didn’t hit it off."
Belton said, "He was a damn Southerner."
Doc said, "See what I mean? Anyway that corporal had the respect of his men, and he was getting the payroll through."
"He did not care for my eastern accent," said Belton.
Kate spat in the dust.
"Neither do I. Who got killed? The men they lost—?"
Doc said, "A lieutenant and their sergeant. That’s why the corporal was in command. And it wasn’t Apaches. Not this time. The Army boys fought them and won. But then they heard more shooting in the distance. The lieutenant and the sergeant went to investigate. They never came back. They were ambushed."
"Apaches?" asked J.D.
"Not according to the corporal. The men weren’t scalped. They were shot down from ambush in cold blood. Never even drew their weapons."
Kate became very quiet.
J.D. motioned at Paco.
"What about him?"
Belton said, "We turn him over to the law. Trouble is, nearest law’s in Tombstone and the marshal there telegraphed that he isn’t coming down until tomorrow, and not too early at that. No one around here is going to venture out on the trail after dark and that includes me. So that leaves him in our charge until the law shows up tomorrow morning."
"Rosa and her boys are going to show up long before that."
"Not to worry." Belton made a placating gesture with both hands. His expression indicated that the matter was beneath consideration. "I’ve got foresight."
"Is that right?"
"Yes, it is. I had the town blacksmith come over to Doc’s office. He installed a metal pipe that, well, bring him in and I’ll show you."
Doc said, "The town could use a jail but one’s never been built. Could use a lawman but no one wants the job. Belton asked if he could use my office overnight for a hundred bucks from his company and I said what the hell."
Kate said, "These soldiers that were ambushed. What about tracks? Any of those troopers read sign?"
Doc said, "The Corporal told us it looked like a whole mess of riders were watching the fight from an overlook. Could have been a falling out among thieves." He seemed to suddenly hear his own words. He eyed them. "You two were in that scrap. That’s how you got hold of Paco."
Belton said, "The smart aleck soldier boy told us his tracker reported that three riders lit a shuck out of there."
J.D. said, "So we’ve got a number. She’s getting
closer by the minute with two of her men."
He took Paco by the elbow. He unceremoniously steered the bandit past the street door of the barbershop. The shop was closed at the hour. Around the side of the building was a door over which hung a plaque with the doc’s name, the shingle faded and weather-beaten much like Doc Cornish himself. Doc hurried ahead and held the door open for them.
Kate kept her back to them. Her eyes scanned the lengthening shadows of the one-street town.
She said, "Whiskey Bend is holding its breath."
When they were inside, she joined them. In the office, her attention stayed on their back trail from the door that she only partially closed.
J.D. said, "Anything?"
"Not yet."
A length of steel pipe ran from floor to ceiling in a corner of the "office." Woodchips littered the floor where the pole had been installed.
Belton picked up a set of shackles from the beat-up wooden desk. J.D. led Paco to the pole. Belton fastened the shackles around Paco’s feet. An impassive Paco extended his arms around the pole. Belton manacled the bandit’s wrists. He stepped back. Eased open his frock coat and patted the pistol holstered at his hip.
"I shall remain here and stand guard."
Paco said, "Foolish gringos. Paco is tired, and Paco is lazy." He shook his hand shackles against the pole, which wobbled. "I could break out of here without Rosa. But you know, I think I will rest." He squatted down and sat in the corner. His chin touched his chest. "Sí, it is pleasant and cool in here after the heat of the day." He spoke from under the brim of his sombrero. "Paco will rest."
J.D. said, "What about our reward?"
Belton’s smile oozed the slickness of a born Easterner.
"Now don’t you worry about one little thing on that score, Mr. and Mrs. Blaze."
J.D. said, "Ain’t worried. I just want to know. What about the reward?"
"Of course, of course. Well sir, as I told the good doctor here in contracting for the use of his office, I’ve already wired the head office. I trust the monies will be wired forthwith."
Kate said, "Those soldiers that were ambushed. The Army leaves no man behind, isn’t that right? Dead or alive."
Blaze! Western Series: Six Adult Western Novels Page 7
