Slocum's Revenge Trail

by Jake Logan

  “Well, notice that I said ‘almost.’”

  “I did catch that, Honey Pot,” he said.

  Downstairs, Slocum and Townsend sat in the same chairs they had occupied since Cash and Honey Pot had gone upstairs. The bottle was getting low. Townsend picked it up and refilled both glasses. That was it. He waved an arm at the bartender. “I think we better have another one,” he said. Just then, Honey Pot and Cash appeared at the top of the stairs arm in arm. As they started down, Townsend said, “Yeah. Just in time too.”

  3

  All three men were slow getting around the next morning. They spoke little, moaned a lot, and dressed slowly. At last, in a little eating joint, they ordered up huge breakfasts and lots of coffee and ate voraciously. Finally done with their meals, they sat over a last cup of coffee. Townsend, all of a sudden, was a new man. He put down his cup with a loud sigh.

  “God damn it, that’s better,” he said. “How are you boys?”

  “Like you said, Townsend, better for the breakfast,” Cash replied.

  “Just fine, Townsend, just fine,” said Slocum. “Are we headed for the ranch this morning?”

  “Right now,” said Townsend. “If you’re done with your coffee.”

  “Raring to go,” said Cash.

  In a few minutes, they were mounted up and riding the trail. Cash said to Slocum, “You missed out on a real hot one last night, ole buddy. You just didn’t speak up fast enough.”

  Slocum was thinking that he did not care to sleep with whores. He preferred not to pay for it, and he had seldom found that necessary. Oh, he had done it a few times, but for the most part, when he had a woman, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He had always found it better that way. He kept those thoughts to himself, though, and said, “Well, maybe I’ll learn if I keep watching you.”

  Cash laughed out loud. “You do that, ole pard. You just keep your eyes on ole Cash. You’ll learn a lot.”

  “That’s a damn fine-looking Appaloosa you’re riding, Slocum,” Townsend said, changing the subject. “I can see why you said what you did about no one else riding him.”

  “It ain’t just that,” said Slocum. “He won’t let anyone else sit on his back.”

  “How long have you boys been riding together?” Townsend asked.

  “Not long,” Slocum said.

  “We, uh, just kind of happened across each other’s trail a few days ago,” Cash added, and he gave Slocum a sly look.

  “You seem to have hit it off pretty well,” said Townsend. “That’s good. Men who get along with each other work better together. You’ll find that I’ve got a good bunch of boys out at my place. You’ll like them all right.”

  It was another two hours before they reached the ranch. They saw to their horses, and then Townsend took them to the bunkhouse and introduced them around. He showed them where to stow their gear and where they would sleep. Then he walked with them back over to the big house. As they were approaching it, the front door opened and a young woman stepped out. She stood watching them with her head cocked to one side.

  “Julie,” said Townsend, “I just hired these two men. This here is John Slocum.”

  Slocum touched the brim of his hat.

  “And his pard here is Joe Cash. Boys, this is my niece, Julie Townsend.”

  “Hello, boys,” Julie said with a half smile on her lips. She was young and pretty, with auburn hair hanging over her shoulders.

  “Well, how do you do, ma’am,” said Cash, taking off his hat and giving a slight bow. “May I say that you’re a real sight for sore eyes?”

  “Thank you,” she said, and she turned and walked back into the house.

  Slocum noticed Townsend shoot a hard look at Cash. “What do you want us to do, Townsend?” Slocum asked.

  “The barn needs cleaning out,” said Townsend. “Think you can handle it?”

  Cash started to protest, but Slocum jabbed him in the ribs. “We’ll get on it right away,” he said. He took Cash by the arm and turned him, and together they walked toward the barn. After a few steps away from the boss, Cash said, “Cleaning out a barn ain’t proper work for cowhands.”

  “When a man pays you for a day’s work,” said Slocum, “you do what he wants done. And you watch yourself around that gal.”

  “Did you take me on to raise, Slocum?”

  “It damn sure seems like it just now.”

  Cash laughed. The two men spent the rest of that day cleaning the barn. At noon and later at supper, they met the rest of the ranch hands, and that night, they hit the hay in their new bunks. They were up early, feeling a bit stiff from the work of the day before. They were seated at the long breakfast table with the rest of the crew when Townsend came up. He issued a few orders to the foreman, Shotgun Stone, and then he turned to Cash and Slocum.

  “There’s a stretch of fence over on the east side of the ranch that needs fixing,” he said. “Can you handle it?”

  Slocum gave Cash a kick under the table. “We’ll take care of it,” he said.

  The fence turned into a two-day job. There was some post-hole digging and a lot of wire stretching. Cash grumbled and cursed most of the time. Once, Slocum said, “What’s your problem, Cash? You said yesterday that cleaning out a barn ain’t no work for a cowhand. You ain’t thinking the same thing about mending fence, are you?”

  “Ah, hell,” Cash said, “I figured we’d be out in the saddle riding herd, rounding up strays. When Townsend offered us this job, he didn’t say nothing about needing a couple of damn laborers. He said cowhands, didn’t he?”

  “I believe the man’s exact words were, ‘I’m looking for a couple of hands. A hard day’s work for a fair day’s pay.’ That’s the way I recall it.”

  “Ah, shit. You know as well as I do that what he meant to say, and he implied it pretty clear, was that he needed cowhands. Now, damn it, Slocum—”

  Just then, the wire he was stretching snapped, and the barbed end took out a piece of Cash’s left ear. He yowled and slapped at the side of his head.

  “Damn it,” he said. “Damn it. Now that’s the last straw. That’s the last fucking straw. I’m riding out of here right now.”

  “It’s been good knowing you, Cash,” said Slocum. “Don’t pick up any stray cattle on the trail. I won’t likely come riding up at just the right time again.”

  “You ain’t coming with me?”

  “I like the job just fine,” Slocum said.

  “Well, shit,” said Cash, turning up the palm of his gloved hand to look at the blood in it. “How much of my damn ear’s missing?”

  Slocum grinned. “It appears to be all there,” he said. “That wire just nicked it a bit is all. Ears bleed real easy.”

  “Hell, maybe I’ll stick another day.”

  At the end of their third day of work, the barn was clean and the fence was mended. “I wonder what dirty job ole Townsend’s got for us tomorrow,” Cash said. “Maybe he needs a new shit hole dug.”

  But in the morning at breakfast, after Townsend had given his orders to Shotgun Stone, he added, “Have Slim and Hoss take Slocum and Cash along with them over to the west pasture.”

  “Sure thing, boss,” Stone said.

  Cash looked at Slocum and grinned. “Well,” he said, “it’s about damn time.”

  For the next several days, they rode the west pasture. It was rough country, marked by gulleys and washes, with scattered patches of brush all around. A low and slow-moving creek ran through the middle, and it was lined with more brush and occasional cottonwood trees. The very far western edge was rugged and rocky hills. The four cowboys combed this tough country gathering strays to bring back to the main herd. It was hot and dusty work, but Cash did not complain. It was real cowhand work, and he liked it. Slocum took note that Cash rode well, and he could handle a rope.

  At the end of a long day, they were riding back toward the bunkhouse, eager for the meal that would be awaiting them. “This suit you better than mending fence, does it?” Slocum
asked.

  “Hell, yes,” said Cash.

  “You’ve done a share of this kind of work,” said Slocum. “It shows.”

  Cash grinned and wiped sweat from his forehead with his bandanna. “Hell,” he said, “I started it when I was fourteen. I had to. My old man, he was drunk all the time. He hadn’t always been like that. I can recall when he was a hardworking son of a bitch. I don’t know what happened, but he got to drinking—too much. He lost his job, but he found money somewhere to buy his damn booze. I went to work to pay the rent and buy the groceries. That worthless bastard would’ve just let Mama and me starve to death and never even noticed. I worked for an outfit called the Double R Bar over in the Panhandle.”

  “I’ve heard of it,” said Slocum.

  “It was a good place to work. Close to home. Mr. Reynolds that run the place was a good man to work for too. ’Course, he’s gone now. I don’t know who’s got the place anymore. My old man got killed in a saloon. I worked on for Mr. Reynolds for another couple of years after that.”

  “What happened?”

  “Mama died.”

  Slocum figured that was a good place to stop asking questions. He figured that maybe the young kid had decided that it was time to drift. He’d heard the story before: a youngster drifting from one ranch to another. Cash certainly was not alone in that. They didn’t talk much for the rest of the ride back to the bunkhouse. But when they had cleaned up and sat down for their evening meal, they ate hearty, just like the rest of the crew. As they headed for the bunkhouse, a young cowhand called Monkey walked up beside Cash.

  “I sure do admire the way you ride and rope, Cash,” he said.

  “Yeah?”

  “I ain’t seen many like you. Did it take you a long time to learn?”

  “I don’t hardly recollect, kid,” said Cash. “I guess it did take a while, though. Say, but you’re doing all right. You’ll get there.”

  “I don’t know. I try real hard, but I just can’t seem to get the hang of it like you got it.”

  “Just be patient, kid.”

  “I can sit my horse all right,” Monkey said. “But the way you swing that rope—well, I just don’t see how you do it.”

  “Ah, you—say, we still got a couple of hours before we need to turn in. Get your rope.”

  Monkey looked at Cash with wide eyes.

  “Go on, kid,” said Cash. The kid took off at a run. Slocum slapped Cash on the shoulder.

  “You do have a soft spot, you ole son of a bitch,” he said.

  “Ah, go to hell, Slocum,” Cash said.

  Slocum watched for a spell while Cash showed Monkey some of the finer points of roping. He showed him how to pay out a loop, how much slack to keep in the rope, and where and how to swing his loop. That went on for the next few evenings, and the kid was getting better. Cash was a good teacher. One evening, as Cash came late into the bunkhouse, Slocum said, “You’re doing a good job with that kid, Cash. His roping has improved considerable.”

  “Ah, hell, Slocum, he’s a natural.”

  “I’ll admit to being a bit surprised you taking up with him the way you did.”

  Sitting on the edge of his bunk, Cash pulled off a boot and dropped it to the floor. “He reminds me of myself,” he said. “At one time.”

  In a couple of days after that, they had a night off, and most of the hands rode into Hell Town for a night of drinking and whoring at the saloon. Monkey rode in with Slocum and Cash. Inside the saloon, the three cowboys bellied up to the bar, and Cash called for a bottle and three glasses. The barkeep brought them, but he looked at Monkey and said, “You sure this one’s old enough?”

  “How old he is ain’t none of your business,” Cash said. “He’s with us.”

  He paid the man and poured three drinks. Monkey picked his up and looked at it. “Cash,” he said, “I never drunk whiskey before. Truth is, I ain’t old enough.”

  “Sure you are, kid. Drink up.”

  Monkey tossed down the whiskey all at once and immediately began to choke. The other men at the bar all started to laugh. Cash pounded Monkey on the back. Finally, Monkey quit hacking. He straightened up and took a deep breath. “Oh,” he said. “That was good.”

  The laughter was even louder then. Cash grinned and poured Monkey’s glass full.

  “Have another,” he said.

  “But this time,” said Slocum, “sip it.”

  Just then, Honey Pot stepped up to Cash’s side and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “I was wondering if I’d ever see you again,” she said.

  Cash swept her into his arms and gave her a big kiss.

  “I’m back, Honey Pot.”

  “Wow,” she said. “I can see that.”

  “Barkeep,” Cash called out. “Another glass.”

  The bartender brought the glass, and Cash suggested that they all find themselves a table. There was an empty one near the foot of the stairs, and so they all moved to it and sat down. Cash poured all four glasses full.

  “So how’ve you been, cowboy?” Honey Pot asked.

  “Working like hell,” Cash said. “Say, Honey Pot, I want you to meet my pardners here. You know Slocum?”

  “I recall he was here with you the last time,” she said. “Glad to meet you, Slocum.”

  Slocum tipped his hat.

  “A pleasure, ma’am,” he said.

  “And this here is my newest pard, Monkey.”

  Monkey’s face was burning red. He took off his hat and nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “It’s a real pleasure.”

  There were cowboys in the place from nearby ranches, and two of them at the bar got into a fight. They were soon put out into the street, and several others followed along to watch. Monkey was beginning to weave in his chair. He tried to remain calm and collected, but the booze was getting to him. He didn’t think that anyone noticed, though. He picked up his glass and took another sip.

  Honey Pot leaned in close to Cash’s ears and whispered in it, “You want to go upstairs, cowboy?”

  Cash started to get up. Then he settled back down. “That sounds like a damn good idea, Honey Pot,” he said, “but I think maybe it’ll wait for something important. I got me an idea.”

  “What is it?”

  “I think that Monkey here needs to get his first taste of sweet honey. What do you think about that?”

  “I’m just the girl who can take care of that little problem,” Honey Pot said. “You want me to take him upstairs?”

  “Right now,” Cash said. “While he can still walk.”

  “You got it, sweetheart,” she said, standing up. “Maybe you’ll come along later?”

  “Bet on it.”

  Honey Pot walked over to Monkey and took him by the arm. He looked up at her, almost startled.

  “Come with me, cowboy,” she said. “I’m going to take good care of you.”

  Monkey looked from Honey Pot to Slocum to Cash, and Cash said, “Go on, kid. It’s all right. Hell, it’s better than all right.”

  Slocum watched as Monkey and Honey Pot mounted the steps together. Then he looked at Cash. “Are you sure about this, Cash?” he asked.

  “Never more sure about anything, Slocum. Hell, that boy will thank me for the rest of his life.”

  4

  Honey Pot shut the door behind them as she and Monkey went into the room. Monkey stopped and stood still. He took the hat off his head and held it in both hands in front of himself. His face was red. Honey Pot had already started to unloose her bodice when she noticed. She stopped what she was doing and walked up to the young cowhand. His eyes were staring at the floor.

  “Hey,” she said. “It’s all right.” She took his hat from him and hung it on a hook on the wall. “Just relax. I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

  “I’m—I’m sorry, ma’am,” Monkey said. “It’s just that I—”

  “Hey, I know. You don’t have to say nothing, and you don’t have to do nothing you don’t want to do. Come on over here
and sit down with me. Okay?”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  Honey Pot took Monkey by the arm and led him to the bed. She sat on its edge and gently pulled him down beside her. “You okay?” she asked him.

  “I’m okay.”

  “You ain’t never been with a woman before, have you?”

  Monkey’s blush turned deep red. “No, ma’am,” he said. “I ain’t.”

  “Well, that’s all right. There’s a first time for ever’thing and for ever’one. Ain’t nothing to be ashamed of.”

  She held his hand, and he felt a chill run over his entire body.

  “You want to kiss me?” she asked.

  “I’d like to.”

  Honey Pot put a hand on Monkey’s cheek and turned his head toward her. Then she kissed him on the lips, gently and briefly. She backed away just a little. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

  “No, ma’am. That was just fine.”

  She kissed him again, this time longer, and he responded passionately. This time when she broke away, she said, “You can stop that ma’am stuff, kid. I’m Honey Pot.” She pressed her lips once more against his, and this time they parted. Her tongue snaked in between his lips, and he opened them to let it roam free.

  Slocum and Cash had themselves another drink. Slocum glanced toward the landing at the top of the stairs, and Cash noticed. “Quit worrying about that kid, Slocum,” he said. “What the hell’s wrong with you anyhow? You forgot your first piece?”

  “I ain’t forgot. I just hope that kid’s ready for everything you’re introducing him to. That’s all.”

  “There’s only one way to get ready, and that’s to jump right in. Hell, pard, he’ll be all right. Quit worrying and have a good time. You ain’t a good nursemaid nohow.”

  Slocum grinned and picked up his glass for a sip of whiskey. As he lowered the glass, he said, “I reckon you’re right, Cash. I’m acting like an old woman.”

  Just then, two cowboys walked in through the front door. They swaggered as they stepped up to the bar and shouted for whiskey. They were types that Slocum had seen before, too many times. Braggarts and bullies, they were troublemakers. He could tell at a glance. Well, let them make their trouble. It was none of his business. He noticed that they wore their sidearms low. They obviously thought that they were gunslicks too. Someday, someone would show them different. He picked up his whiskey glass and drained it, then poured it full again.