Slocum and Pearl of the Rio Grande

by Jake Logan

  “Notify everyone she’s not wanted.”

  “Done deal—I can’t believe you recovered all this loot.”

  “You make damn sure she gets off the list and gets this reward.”

  “I will. Why?”

  “I owe her.”

  Steele accepted his words. “Where will you go next?”

  “There’s one more bunch of outlaws I want to see behind bars or dead.”

  “Tell me how I can help you get them. You can have whatever you want.”

  “Thorpe’s been covering my bills so far. You can’t ride in and arrest them. I’ll figure out a way to get them.”

  Steele nodded his head. “I’d hire you in a minute.”

  “No news stories, no mention of my name?”

  “That’s a deal.” Steel shook his hand and then turned to the man who had told him all the loot was loaded. “Get One-Eye Davis over there and load him, too.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Steele touched his expensive hat. “Mary Murphy, huh? Interesting-sounding name. She expecting it?”

  “No.” It would sure knock her over, too, getting that much money. He wished he could see her face when Steele showed her how much she was getting.

  “What will happen to him?” the woman asked in a small voice behind Slocum.

  The wagon was gone in the night and One-Eye with it. Slocum turned in the doorway. “He’ll do time in prison.”

  “Why did you save me?”

  “You’re no stage robber.”

  “No.” She wrapped her arms around him and began to cry. “Oh, I thank you so much.”

  “Do you have any food?”

  She looked up at him and blinked her wet lashes. “I have food.”

  “Let’s eat it.” He put his arm on her shoulder to comfort her.

  Over the meal of beans and tortillas, he told her to sell One-Eye’s horse and saddle, that he wouldn’t need them and it would give her some money. She agreed that she would, then began lighting a new candle in a bottle.

  “Where will you sleep tonight?” she asked.

  “In town at the livery.”

  “Oh, stay here tonight and hold me. It has been a very tiring day.”

  He considered her for a moment with her bean burrito in his hand, and then he nodded—she was a little on the chunky side, but she was real. Besides, he still had half an erection from her hugging on him.

  20

  He reached Española and stepped off the stage in the light of dawn. His past night had been spent in the rocking, bouncing coach. It was a long ways from the night before when he had bounced on top of Señora Gonzales’s belly and listened with a smile to her moaning in pleasure’s arms. He slept little either night, but one was pure fun, the other real torture.

  He left his gear at the stage office and went to the livery to get a horse. He could pick up Heck at the Flores Station, then be on his way north. The full moon would be coming soon, and May would be up there expecting him. So far, things were falling in place.

  He was waiting for the passage of a double freight wagon when someone called to him.

  “Slocum. Slocum.” It was Bledstone. He came on the run and fell in beside Slocum, looking around to see if anyone would hear him. “You got One-Eye and the loot, too.”

  “The loot was extra.”

  “How much you get for it?” Bledstone hissed.

  “I gave that to charity.”

  “Hey, I thought—”

  “Listen, I caught the Kid, the old man, and One-Eye. All I know you did was fuck his girlfriend.”

  “All right. All right. But we’re including your partner in on the reward. How much did you give away?”

  “Bledstone, I ain’t sure.” Slocum looked hard across the street at an attractive Hispanic woman going down the stone walk and disappearing into a dress shop. He wanted rid of Bledstone. His presence grew harder and harder for Slocum to stand. “It don’t matter, it’s gone. I’m going up there to investigate the Boosters. When I get set to arrest them, I’ll wire you. Where will you be?”

  “Pagosa, I guess.”

  Slocum scowled at the man. He’d not learned his lesson, he might never learn it. “Booster catches you up there, he’ll cut your throat,” Slocum said.

  “I’ll plug him full of lead.”

  “If you get the chance.”

  “All right, I can stay here. You wire me first thing. I want to be in on it.”

  “You turn in your expenses?”

  “Yes. Thorpe said we’d have it and our reward money in ten days.”

  “Collect mine. You can give Collie Bill his and mine.”

  Bledstone blinked at him in disbelief. “You giving that away, too?”

  “That ain’t any of your damn business.”

  Slocum stopped. Why ride a livery horse up there? Hell, Wells Fargo would pay his stage fare. He was taking the next stage north and not sharing it with this slob.

  “What’s wrong?” Bledstone asked.

  “I’ve changed my mind.”

  “You want me to hold your share?”

  “No, give it to Collie Bill. I’m getting me a room and sleep a couple of hours. See you.”

  He left him and went to the Alhambra. The room faced the south and was sun-warmed. Once under the covers, he slept till dark, and then went out and checked the stage schedule. The next northbound came in at nine, and would be at the Flores stage stop the next day at noon. Good. He got his ticket and went out to eat. The temperature was cooling after a warm day.

  He started across the main street. The sun had fallen behind the western range of mountains and twilight spread over the street, which was choked with rigs, wagons, buggies, and mule teams. Amid all the traffic, whips cracking, and loud cursing, he crossed to the far side. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a face that blinked upon seeing him and then was gone.

  Who was it? A man with as many enemies as he had had to know these things. The space between the saloon and the next store was empty when he reached it. He eased his way down through that space, which forced him to walk sideways toward the alley at the other end.

  Near the exit, he could hear an out-of-breath person saying, “It’s him all right,” then huffing for breath. For a second Slocum wondered who was there. Never mind, they were talking about him.

  “Damned if I know. But I saw him just now out there on Main.”

  “We better tell Harvey.”

  “Tell him what?” Slocum asked, and stepped out with his gun in hand. He knew neither of them. One was dressed in overalls and the other in dirty patched pants. They looked like riffraff. They were whiskered, unbathed, and their greasy hair stuck out in tufts.

  “Ah, ah, nothing. Who are you?” Overalls asked. He looked to be in his thirties and was maybe the smarter one of the two.

  “You boys appear to me to have my name on the top of your list.”

  The shorter one looked hard at his partner for an answer. Then they both broke and ran away screaming down the dark alley. “He’s gonna shoot us! He’s gonna shoot us!”

  Slocum shook his head. They worked for Ryan. But if he wanted assassins, he’d better hire someone smarter. If Slocum weren’t leaving on the stage in a few hours, he’d go and find the SOB and make a real believer out of him. But there was no time for that.

  He boarded the stage at eight forty-five, and left for Flores Station in the chilly night. The canvas side curtains on the coach were tied down, but the cold had no problem going around them. Slocum wore his coat and had two woolen blankets to cover up with. A heavyset woman had a shawl she was wrapped up in. In her thirties, she looked like someone’s wife. She nodded and gave a big smile to him when she squeezed with some effort through the door into the coach. Her cheap perfume was strong and her musk was stronger.

  The third passenger was a small Mexican man who bundled himself up in a thick hand-woven cotton blanket in the rear seat, mumbling, “Frio. Frio.”

  He got off at Herman. The big woman slept
some with her head on Slocum’s shoulder. She also snored, so he ended up with his arms around her large girth and both of them under his blankets being tossed about in the dark coach. It was not paradise, and between her bad perfume and strong body odors, he was awakened several times wondering where in the hell he was at. At midnight, there was falling snow when they climbed down to relieve themselves in the stinking facilities out back of a stage stop. The coffee there tasted like tar. Even Erma found it bad-tasting.

  Then Ute, the lanky driver, announced it was time to go, and they left the half-warm room for the cold outdoors and the wet flakes that melted on Slocum’s face. Erma waddled from side to side going back, and then strained to pull herself up and inside. He put his hand on one of her large hams and gave her a good push to speed up the process and get her in. She giggled, and he regretted doing it.

  They were off with fresh horses, and he and Erma were alone back on the front bench under his blankets.

  “What’cha do fur a living, honey?” She’d already asked if he was married, had ever been, or had any plans for marriage.

  “About anything that won’t get me cross with the law and makes money,” he answered.

  “Well, honey, what you needs is a good woman to cook your meals and keep you occupied till next spring.”

  Her head resting on his chest, she hugged him like he belonged to her. “And I know just the one.”

  “Who?” He didn’t really want to know who she’d suggest—probably her.

  “My oldest girl Margarie.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Ain’t no never mind, she’s old enough and she’d care for you well this winter. She ain’t bad-looking. She ain’t lazy either. Got a nice girlie figure like men like. And she can bust wood with any man.”

  “Why, hell, she can surely find herself a man up there in Colorado.”

  “You don’t understand, mister. She found one and when he got her with child, he took his ass on down the road. They said he was already married back home somewheres anyhow.”

  “When’s she due?”

  “Oh, four months or so.”

  “She could still find a man.”

  “Yeah, but you’re more respectable than most of them honyockers hanging around up there. I always wanted my girls to marry them a real respectable man.”

  “You marry one?”

  “Lord, no, I married some old donkey dick. Man, I thought he was cute.”

  “He still around?”

  “Naw, he got killed and I’ve had four others about that worthless. I just come back from settling the last one’s family estate in Texas. He died two years ago.”

  “A large estate?”

  “I ain’t that rich and I put up with him till he died. I deserved something for that.”

  “You did. What killed him?”

  “He was a lunger. You know, spit up blood and pieces of his lungs till he died.”

  “You must be an angel of mercy.”

  She giggled and reached for the crotch of his pants. “I’m a big one, ain’t I?” she said. “It wasn’t so damn cold and we had a little more room, I’d sure show you some mercy.”

  Thank God for cold weather.

  21

  The snow quit before daylight and there was only a skiff around, but colder weather had shut it down at the next stage stop. When he stuck his head out of the coach door, the first blast nearly took his hat.

  “Whew, Erma, watch the wind.”

  She laughed, starting out after him. “Take a tornado to get me. Hellfire, there is one.”

  They both fought their way to the front door and spilled inside, grateful to be out of it. Ute joined them, jerking off his gloves and holding his hands out to the fireplace’s heat. “You ain’t got far to go?” he asked Slocum.

  “No, and I’m glad.”

  “Your cowboy friend’s sure helping Juanita. She needed someone when her husband got killed.”

  “Good.”

  “I can’t blame him either. She’s a pretty woman and the best damn cook on this run.”

  Slocum looked around to see if any of the Booster bunch was in the room, and then he agreed. His mind was more on May and the cabin. He was three days from getting up there, barring a heavy snow. She might not even be up there yet.

  He wouldn’t know until he got there. At first, he’d worried that it might have been a trick she planned to play on him, but after the night on the road they’d spent in his bedroll, he figured she’d be there.

  At midday, they reached the Flores Station, and he unloaded his saddle and gear out of the boot. Rudy, one of the hostlers, helped him pack it inside out of the wind.

  “Where’s Collie Bill?” he asked the youth while walking back to the station.

  “Went after an elk yesterday.”

  “He’s not back?”

  Rudy shook his head as they went inside, and then he took a seat on a wall bench to be out of the way.

  Strange he’d gone off, Slocum thought. Erma was talking to Juanita, who brightened at the sight of him. “You’re back?”

  “Yes. Collie Bill is gone?”

  “Just for a few days, he’s elk hunting. We’re about out of meat.”

  “Everything going all right?” He could read the lingering sadness in her eyes.

  “Thanks to him. He’s a good man. The boys who work for us like him.” She looked at the pegged floor. “I’d never have made it without him.”

  He hugged her shoulder. “We ain’t had any real food since we left home.”

  “Well, let’s eat some.”

  “Amen,” Ute said, already seated and ready.

  After the meal, Ute shook Slocum’s hand, and Slocum even hugged Erma good-bye. Her perfume and aroma still lingered. The stage left in the heatless sun of midday. Slocum went to the corrals and checked on Heck. The buckskin gelding was fine, and had put on a pound or two eating alfalfa hay that he might lose while on the move the next few days. By sundown, Collie Bill still wasn’t back, and Juanita assured Slocum he was up at some hunting camp west of there.

  Slocum made plans to ride out in the morning with one packhorse. He explained to Juanita while sitting across from her at the long table that he needed to scout some things. He finally got around to asking her about Perla.

  “Oh, she is fine. Such a shame. She may never get over all that has happened.”

  He agreed. It was all branded in her mind. The death of her husband and the rape. But he needed some evidence that the gang was in on at least one of the stage robberies—that meant that Wells Fargo would move in. The shakedown of ranchers would be hard to prove, and with no one willing to be a witness against them, it meant any good lawyer would only laugh at the charges in court.

  He should have gotten One-Eye to implicate them. No, he needed to prove they’d robbed a stage. Maybe after his meeting with May, he would know something besides how much he liked her and hot springs. He turned in early and woke early.

  Rudy was up in the cold dark. The boy helped him saddle Heck and pack the bay. Juanita was up, too, making him a special breakfast and acting like a mother.

  Where was he headed? Why? And for how long?

  “A week, ten days, and I’ll be back. Bledstone is bringing our money. Collie Bill gets a third.”

  “That’s nice of you since he’s been up here helping me.”

  He reached over and squeezed her hands. “I knew that and you needed him. He was in on this business from the start.”

  “I sent him hunting.”

  “Oh?” He buttered a freshly made biscuit.

  “He needs to be sure he wants to stay here. I feel there is something pulling on him.”

  Slocum agreed and listened.

  “I want him happy. I want him to stay if he wants to stay.”

  “Tough deal.”

  “Slocum, you know I need him, but not if he would be unhappy.”

  “Maybe he’ll find an answer.”

  Her long dark lashes narrowed. “Wha
t if my friend Perla wanted you to stay with her?”

  He dropped his chin and shook his head. “I couldn’t. Besides, she is afraid to let anyone get close to her.”

  “Yes. You be careful. Sims is a mean, mean man.”

  “He ever bother you?”

  She shook her head—but he knew that was a lie. She lied so he wouldn’t go after Sims because of her. He knew her purpose even before her head shook. He gazed into her large doe eyes and sculptured face. Collie Bill better decide for her—it might be his last chance at a real life.

  When Slocum was outside and mounted, his breath came in clouds. He thanked the boy for helping him and rode off leading the packhorse. The cold wind was cutting his cheeks and he pulled up the kerchief like a mask. Damn, it was cold. Those hot springs better be warm. The notion of May’s subtle body and the swirling hot water made the entire effort sound worthwhile. Especially when he still smelled traces of Erma’s sour scent. He tried hard to forget her.

  At mid-afternoon, he finally reached the Crow Creek Stage Station. With a canvas pail, he watered the two horses, and then put a nose bag of corn over their heads before he went inside.

  The bearded man standing inside the dining hall nodded in approval at him. “You’re a real horseman, I can see that about yeah. Not many men’d draw water from a well before they came in to warm up.”

  Slocum stripped off his gloves. “First things first.”

  “Where you headed?”

  “Colorado, if the road goes there.”

  The man went over and spit his tobacco in a brass spittoon. After wiping his whiskered mouth on the back of his hand, he nodded. “It still goes there.”

  “You want some coffee?” a gray-headed woman asked from the side door.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He had his coat unbuttoned, and the warmth of the room was almost more than he could stand.

  “Guess you’ve got business up there?”

  “I hope so,” he said, and thanked her for the steaming cup.

  “Lots of road agents. ’Course I’d bet they’re all too lazy to bother anyone on a cold day like this.”

  Slocum blew on his coffee to cool it some. “I hope so.”

  “You’re welcome to stay the night, ain’t many hotels between here and there.”