by Alison Bruce
An hour later, Jase woke up and glanced over at Marly, who was wide awake. And shivering.
"S-sorry," she said, her teeth chattering. "I didn't mean to disturb y-you. I was getting c-cold."
The temperature had dropped considerably.
Jase shook his head at his own stupidity. Of course the weather was going to be more extreme up here in the mountains. They might even get frost, though it was almost summer.
He rearranged the bedroll so they could bundle under the blankets and lean against the saddles.
"Come here. Don't want you catching a chill."
Without objection, Marly settled in beside him and he tugged her closer, ensuring that the blankets covered them both. She kept one arm on top of the cover, holding the rifle. Jase's freedom of movement was a little restricted, but his right arm was free and his Colt was handy.
Just in case.
He let Marly doze off. His shoulder cushioned her head.
When Portia fretted at the distant sound of a coyote, Marly woke, instantly alert. She relaxed again, but didn't go back to sleep.
"If you're sleepy..." she said.
"I'm okay."
He shifted so she would be more comfortable. Then he stroked her hair, smoothing down a strand that was tickling his chin.
"I doubt this is gonna be a restful night for either of us."
They dozed on and off until the first shards of light crept over the mountains. Stiff and tired, they saddled up and rode out.
The path Jase chose was a torturous one for several miles. Once out onto open ground, the horses were itching for a good gallop. He pointed out their direction and let Marly take the lead.
At noon they stopped at a creek, filled their canteens and watered the horses. They didn't stay. It was too open, too exposed.
"We'll stop soon, Marly." He had an idea. "I bet you can't carry a full pot of water while ridin'."
She grinned. "I'll take that bet."
The first trick was mounting Portia without losing the water in the pot. The rest would have been easy, except that Jase kept changing paces on her.
"Not bad," he said when they stopped. "We'll try the egg and spoon test next."
She pushed her hat back. "You trying to make a rodeo star out of me?"
"Could do worse. At least we now have water for the coffee―without usin' our canteens. I don't know about you, but I'm overdue for a cup of coffee."
He was impressed when Marly remembered her trail lore. She built a smokeless fire and then fixed a hot dinner. Jase started the coffee.
"We'll keep going 'til we reach El Paso," he said. "That means a long ride this afternoon. You best catch a nap."
"How about you?"
"Me too."
Neither got much sleep.
Soon, they were up and on their way. Since the sun was still high, they took an easy pace, alternating between a slow trot and a walk. Once, they dismounted and led the horses, letting them graze as they walked. By late afternoon, they watered the horses again.
After that, it was time to pick up the pace.
They rode for hours, sometimes giving the horses their head.
In the evening, Marly slowed Portia to a walk and Jase moved Grandee beside her.
"Tired?" he asked.
Marly shook her head and pointed ahead to where the blazing sun seemed to set the land on fire. "It's beautiful."
He saw tears in her eyes and sidled Grandee closer.
Marly slipped her hand into his and squeezed tight. For a moment they just stopped there, legs touching, hands clasped. Then the light softened to pastels and Portia whinnied, indicating they'd stood still long enough.
"We're just a couple of hours short of El Paso," he said, urging Grandee forward in a slow walk. "Almost at trail's end."
"Maybe," Marly replied. "For me, it depends if Charlie is still there. Or if he even got there."
"The money should be there."
"That's important. But so is justice. Who knows what other foolish females he has seduced. Or will seduce, if given the chance."
"How did he fool you?"
"Vanity," she said with a shrug. "He told me I was pretty and that he liked my spirit. I never thought of myself as pretty. And nobody much cared for me being spirited. Aunt Adele called me a hoyden."
Jase was dumbfounded. How could Marly not know she was pretty? More than that, to him she was beautiful. And he delighted in her feisty independence.
Though he knew the kind of woman Aunt Adele was, she had his sympathy. Marly would be just the sort of girl to put several gray hairs on such a woman's head. He also had a fair notion what kind of girl Aunt Adele would have approved of.
He was glad Marly hadn't turned out that way.
"Just as well Charlie didn't stay in Fortuna," Marly said.
"Why is that?"
"Amabelle is very pretty. We would have had a second murder by the time we hit town."
"I'll stick with you till you find him."
"What if he's left Texas?"
Jase fingered his Ranger's star. "Won't be the first time I've gone beyond my jurisdiction."
"And when we do find him?"
"Then justice will be served." He held her gaze. "I wish he didn't have a hold on you."
"So do I. Suppose I have to sever that hold before I can really move on." Her voice was sad, almost disappointed.
"Suppose so."
She gave him a timid smile. "Have I gone back to being your young ward or can I have a beer in El Paso? I didn't like it much at first, but I have a feeling one is going to go down very nicely at the end of this day."
"You can have a beer at the El Hombre. After all, you're a Ranger now."
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's the El Hombre?"
"An old friend of mine runs the place. I'm hopin' he'll let us have the back room while we're there. El Paso is a whole lot more expensive than Fortuna."
"But they have good beer?" Marly asked.
"Yep."
"In that case, let's go."
She spurred Portia into a gallop and Jase grinned at her enthusiasm. Maybe he'd buy her two beers.
They rode into El Paso around ten o'clock. By this point, neither of them cared about finding Charlie. Priorities were on finding a room, having that beer and getting a decent meal.
Their first stop was the El Hombre.
"Stay with the horses, "Jase told Marly.
She was happy to obey.
The El Hombre was at the most disreputable end of the disreputable part of town. In fact, from the look of the dilapidated buildings that lined the streets, she wasn't sure El Paso had a respectable neighborhood.
Discretely, she loosened her rifle in its holster.
Jase returned. "All set. We just gotta take care of the horses."
"Is this place okay?"
"Sure. Just looks tough 'cause it is." He swung into the saddle. "So tough that nobody dares start any trouble. Pequeño won't allow it. Bad for business. Hard on the furniture."
They returned from the livery the back way so they could drop their saddlebags off and wash up a little before supper. Their room was a furnished shed, one of many add-ons to the ramshackle building. There were two small beds with bare mattresses. Between them, a stack of empty whiskey crates served as a dresser. On top sat an enamel tin bowl and a mismatched jug of warm water. A couple of hooks on the back of the door completed the furnishings.
"Well, it ain't The Oasis," Jase commented.
Exhausted, Marly unrolled her bedding and carefully spread her oiled groundsheet over the mattress before arranging the blankets.
"Good idea," he said with a nod.
He fixed his bed, then allowed her to use the water first to wash up. She rinsed her face, neck and hands until the water in the bowl turned a muddy brown.
"Here," he said, handing her a clean bandana. "Tomorrow you can have a proper hot bath."
After he washed up, they headed out to the saloon.
The El
Hombre was most certainly not The Oasis. Instead of clapboard, the construction was adobe and might have been one of the original buildings in El Paso. In the center of the room was a fire pit. An iron flue hung above it, channeling most of the smoke up the chimney. Around the pit were rough-hewn trestle tables surrounded by an odd collection of chairs, stools and benches. The floor was sawdust-covered dirt.
The bar had been built on a section of flagstone floor and there were flagstones around the fire pit. The only wall decorations were two flags, Texas and Mexico, hanging above the bar. These were partly obscured by the chandelier. It was a huge multi-branch monstrosity, a nightmare tangle of antlers and longhorn skulls. The rest of the saloon was lit by hanging lanterns.
"I got two steaks on the grill with all the fixings," a voice boomed. "You and the chico will be set soon."
Jase pushed Marly through the crowd toward the bar.
"Marly, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine. Goes by the name of Pequeño. It means tiny."
A lumbering, massive man strode out from behind the bar. He was a good head taller and much broader in the shoulders than Jase. Pequeño further belied his name by his coloring, which was typical Scandinavian. White blonde hair and beard contrasted with a dark, leathered complexion.
Pequeño grinned, showing off a mouthful of unusually white teeth. "Not what you expect, huh?"
His hearty laugh echoed in the room as Marly shook his hand.
"So, amigo," he said, turning to Jase, "you said something about a beer, no?"
"Make that two. Three, if you'd care to join us."
Pequeño passed the order along to one of his bartenders. With an arm around each of their shoulders, he ushered them to a table in the back corner. Marly noted that both Pequeño and Jase sat with their backs to the wall and she was encouraged to do the same.
Taking a seat beside Jase, she surveyed the saloon while the men caught up on each other's lives. Although the saloon wasn't crowded, the tables were at least partly occupied and there were half a dozen cowboys at the bar. A few more stood around the piano where a toothless man mangled a tune. Smoke from tobacco and back draft from the fireplace drifted up in clouds, hanging around the chandelier before being vented through the roof.
"Drink," Jase said, sliding a glass of beer in front of her.
Pequeño was drinking whiskey. He raised his shot in salute. "To old friends and new."
Jase raised his glass."Saludo!"
"Cheers!" she added.
Soon after the drinks came, supper was served. Marly found that beer was slightly more palatable when it washed down barbequed steaks, chili and refried beans. As she'd suspected, it went down well at the end of the day, seeming to wash away the dust of the trail.
When Pequeño offered her another glass, she shook her head. "One is enough for me. I'm beat."
"You should go to bed," Jase said.
She didn't argue and was too tired to be offended by his easy dismissal. Leaving the old friends to their conversation, she headed for the shed.
As sleepy as she was, she had a hard time settling. Noises from the alley kept her awake. Each time she heard something she'd reach for her revolver, listen for a bit and peer into the darkness.
"Haven't seen you ride with a partner for a long time, have I?"
Jase shook his head. "Nope."
"Noticed the Ranger badge too. Little young, no?"
"Maybe, but Marly came by it honestly."
"Are you going to tell me the story?"
"Part of it. Part of it is still to be played out."
He gave Pequeño the short version of Strothers' murder investigation and Marly's heroics. He might have dwelt a little longer on Marly's heroics than he needed to, but he was proud of her.
"So, you got to keep this partner, yah?"
"Gonna try."
"And then you can tell Pequeño the full story, yah?"
The two men locked gazes for a minute, no more.
When the big man smiled, Jase relented. "Someday. I promise."
A half hour later, he left Pequeño to his customers and returned to the shed. Marly was asleep, rousing just enough to be sure it was him. She grunted something that might have been "good night."
Jase tucked the blanket up over her shoulders and noticed her Remington revolver tucked under the shirt she was using as a pillow. Ever vigilant, Marly presented a tough exterior. Except when she was sleeping.
He stroked her cheek. "Good night, my sweet brat."
After breakfast, Jase arranged for baths at one of the more reasonably priced hotels. He took the privilege of having the first bath, giving Marly the chore of taking their trail clothes to the Chinese laundry. Since he trusted her to go out on her own, she deduced that El Paso wasn't as dangerous as she thought―at least not by daylight.
El Paso was nothing like anywhere Marly had been before. It might as well have been a foreign country. There were at least as many people speaking Spanish as English and a fair number speaking other languages like German, French and Chinese. The railway was coming and the city was already showing signs of things to come.
The El Hombre was just off the Camino Real. It had linked Santa Fe and Mexico City since the first Spanish colonists settled in the area. Just down the street and across the river lay Mexico. Marly put a visit to the border on her to-do list, along with finding the post office, dealing with Charlie and settling her account with Jase.
First, she had to find the laundry.
Jase had every intention of being in and out the bath before Marly returned. The hot water was too seductive. He fell asleep, briefly registered when she returned, but didn't really wake until he felt her washing his shoulders.
"Sit up and I'll do your back."
Too weary to argue, he complied.
Marly used the soapy cloth to scrub him clean. As she rinsed, her hands smoothed his muscles, her fingers easing the tension.
Jase enjoyed the luxury of the massage until his conscience nagged him. The masquerade would be coming to an end soon. Things were going to be complicated enough without him crossing the line.
He took the cloth from her. "The bath is yours now."
While Marly bathed, he checked in on the town marshal.
Frank Crowley was a good old southern boy, gracious but not polished. He greeted Jase with a beaming smile and a pat on the back. It seemed the news of Strothers' murder and Baker's death had already reached town.
"Charlie Meese?" Crowley said, scratching his chin. "Never heard of him. But I'll make some discreet inquiries."
"I'd appreciate that."
"Check back later."
"Will do."
Jase moved on to the telegraph and post office. There, he discovered that a slick-looking fellow had been asking about packet addressed to one Marly Landers. The packet was still there, unclaimed.
By the time he returned to the hotel, it was close on noon and Marly was waiting for him in the dining room.
After two slices of pie, she put her fork down. "I'm going to start looking for Charlie."
"No point puttin' it off, I guess, but you might do better if you pocket your Ranger's star."
"You coming?"
"I have some business of my own."
After she left, he followed at a discreet distance.
Marly started at one of the livery stables, asking if there was any work. There wasn't. She hung around for a bit, chatting with the stable hands. Since Jase could hardly eavesdrop without drawing her attention, he decided to check in on the marshal.
"Happens you're in luck," Crowley announced, pouring Jase a cup of coffee and offering him a chair. "He's staying at the Alhambra. Not calling himself Meese, mind you. He's going by the name of Chuck Masters. One of my deputies remembered him. Seems he lost a week's pay to our friend, Meese."
"How'd your deputy lose money?"
"Poker."
"Fair game?"
Crowley shrugged. "Or damned slick. If I knew for sure he was cheating,
you'd have found him in one of my cells."
Jase stayed and they swapped stories.
Marshal Crowley, a married man, had recently added another member to the family and was proud to share the news. She was the first girl after three boys and the prettiest baby west of the Mississippi, according to her father.
"I'd be honored if you and your deputy would come to dinner tomorrow evening," the man said.
"That's might kind of you. Thank you."
He had a feeling, if he stayed around long enough, Crowley would be fixing him up with a date for the Saturday night dance.
He met Marly at the El Hombre, where she was sipping sarsaparilla and reading.
"Charlie is in El Paso," she told him as soon as he sat down. "He's at the Alhambra. Looks like he's up to his old tricks." She told him about the poker games. "There's some question as to the honesty of his games. And he pays a stable boy two bits a night to keep a horse ready for him. Just in case."
"That's a lot of money for a little insurance. He's more likely to get shot at the table if he gets caught cheatin'. Makes you wonder if he knows someone's after him."
Marly gritted her teeth. "I doubt he'd care."
"He might not know it's you. Anyway, I checked at the post office. The package addressed to you is waitin'. They've been tellin' Meese it hasn't arrived yet."
"I imagine if I pick it up, he'll find me."
"You gonna confront him like that?"
"Like what?" She looked down at her clothes. "Oh."
Pequeño interrupted with two heaping bowls of chili con carne and a plate of tortillas. "Pedro's secret recipe."
Pedro, an older man with a permanent grin, followed with a bowl of salsa and a dish of chili peppers, and Pequeño returned with a pitcher of beer to top up their glasses. "Buena appetito!"
"Hospitable, isn't he?" Marly said when the two men left.
"I told you, he's an old friend."
"Another fellow Ranger?"
"Not exactly. When I first met him, Pequeño was on the other side of the law. By the way, I wouldn't touch those peppers if I was you."
Jase let Marly take the edge off her appetite.
"So…what are you gonna do about Meese," he asked finally.
"I don't know. I suppose I had better buy a skirt or something. I can just imagine what kind of greeting I'd get from Charlie Meese if I showed up like this." She leaned back in the chair. "I guess the next step after that is to get the package and set things in motion."
