“It sounds like you know him well.”
“Not well. We talk sometimes. He needed good weapons and I sold them to him. He wanted machine guns, so I found them. Brownings from the U.S. Army, water-cooled. I helped him because he is like us. But now, I think it is too late for him.”
“You still want Villa to win, don’t you?” Harrison asked, wondering.
“Sí, claro. The American Army does not understand that General Villa is fighting for our rights,” Maria stated matter-of-factly. “Like your own George Washington.” She softly touched his hand.
Harrison scratched his head and suddenly grinned at her. “Politics can be very tiring.” At that moment, he was very aware of her hand on his.
Their shoulders touched.
“It appears we won’t have a war with Mexico, at least.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be so sure, Harry.”
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“Today, the generals are only concerned with fighting each other.” Maria took the decanter and poured each another glass, but kept talking. “But General Carranza, quien sabe? He has great ambitions, that one. And the Germans are still here, working for that war.”
They both sipped from their glasses, considering.
“Forgive me, I become very emotional when I speak of the struggles of my people. I want so much for the country of my mother. It is very rich, too. But the people are very poor.”
Again, Harrison envied her passion. But politics here seems so confusing, he thought. Loyalties pulled in one direction, then another—good and bad changing daily.
“One day things will be different,” Maria said.
He could not help staring. She’s so beautiful.
When Maria caught him staring at her, she suddenly looked down and blushed.
“The northern papers are not sympathetic to Pancho Villa since his attack on Columbus.” Harrison forced himself to focus on the discussion, but he remained too aware of her. “Remember, Maria,” he said, “General Villa was killing Americans and taking their property.”
“And El Presidente Wilson—does he care about the suffering of the Mexican people?” she answered. “Like my amigos now imprisoned in San Antonio? They only fought against unjust laws, as Pancho Villa is doing.”
Harrison tried to get the evening back on track. “Maria, I don’t want to argue with you. I want answers to my brother’s death. That’s the reason I’m here.” But now the words were empty, and he knew it.
Her dark eyes held his blue eyes.
“Maria, I’m not here to talk politics with you.”
Maria was silent. Then she spoke, sadly. “I am sorry for my anger.” She paused to think. “There is something else that I must tell you. I gave your brother information on where General Villa hid his weapons and ammunition. Bart passed the information to General Pershing. and the American Army traded the information to Murguia, Carranza’s general. Murguia’s men found the arms and made ready, so when Villa attacked La Ciudad Chihuahua in April, hundreds of his men were killed. It was a terrible defeat, Harry. I saw it…. Villa’s soldiers ran out of ammunition. They were captured. Hundreds of his men were hanged on La Avenida Colon, left to rot in the sun.
“Why did you give him this information?”
“He wanted to know how the General armed his soldiers. I told him. Giving him information was part of our arrangement,” Maria said. “But I did not think he would use it that way.”
“My brother betrayed you?”
“He did not think it was so important.”
“His action placed you in a dangerous position.” James thought aloud.
“Sí,” she whispered. “General Villa believes that I betrayed him, but I did not.” There was a hint of fear in Maria’s voice.
Harrison said nothing. He touched her shoulder lightly, and felt her warmth. He felt even more drawn to her.
“Harry, we live in a very dangerous world…all of us. In Mexico today, everyone must be watched, even our friends. Tomorrow, they may be our enemies.”
“Maria, how can I help you? If there is a way, I will do it.”
“Amigo, you are a man of honor.” She took his arm, then she placed his hand between hers. “Somehow, I must prove to General Villa I did not willingly betray him, but you cannot help with that. Never mind,” Maria said softly.
He reached out to touch her hair. “How does one so lovely survive in such a dangerous world?”
He sounds much like his brother, she thought, yet very different. She continued to hold his hand tightly. “I was raised in this world. It is all that I know. But I am surrounded by good men. Men who protect me.”
“Yes,” James said. “It’s important to have them around.”
“Make no mistake,” she said, the tone of her voice firm, “I am the equal of any man.”
“I believe that, Maria.” He lifted her hand and gently kissed it. “But you will always be a lady.”
This hombre has all the right words, she thought, and brightened. “Now, Mr. James, your information,” she said with a smile. “You have heard enough about my problems.”
“Last year,” James replied, “my company employed a man who is now doing business with the Mexican Government. I don’t know much about him except that he is selling munitions across the border. I will give you his name. That, I’m afraid, is all I have for you, but maybe you can use it to your advantage.”
Maria studied him momentarily. “What is his name, Harry?”
“He’s going by the name of Jackson Smith. I have his address,” he said. “And when you find him, you will also find a warehouse full of munitions—if he hasn’t already smuggled them across the border.”
Maria repeated the name slowly. She seemed to recognize it. “The Mexican Government does not yet have money to make large purchases. I have been told this by amigos close to General Carranza. But they are raising it, Harry. I will look into this. Thank you. The information could be very helpful to us.”
“I know Smith, but nothing else about his company,” James said.
“A warehouse full of munitions, Harry,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “It would do much damage to General Villa, if they can get it across the border. And it would make this man very rich,” Maria added.
“That sounds like Smith,” James said. He could tell the brain behind those beautiful dark eyes was working. “What would all those explosives and guns do to Villa’s army?”
“Villa is in trouble. His men are tired and have few weapons left, and he has no money. I think the new supplies are all that it would take to finally defeat him,” Maria answered slowly.
“Those supplies would buy Señor Smith and his company a lot of influence in Mexico, Harry,” she said, still rolling the information over in her mind. “Mineral and oil rights; even land.” She looked at him with a contemplative smile. “Thank you. Yes, I will see that your information is put to good use.”
“Please Maria, with this information, I trust you will not make things here worse,” James said, concerned that he could be adding to the suffering of the Mexican people. He was well aware that he could be repeating the mistakes of his brother.
Maria immediately noticed the concern on his face. Don’t worry, amigo,” she said to reassure him. “Come.” She took him by the hand.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
They arrived in the courtyard in time to watch the last team of mules hitched. A group of twelve riders prepared to leave. The leader, dressed like the others in homespun cotton with high leather boots, and wearing a sombrero, waved to Maria, then mounted his horse, a U.S. Army .45 strapped to his side. He was also dark skinned, with cropped black hair. Bandoliers of ammunition crisscrossed the other riders’ chests, and Springfield rifles were slung across their backs.
Harrison noted the old Negro standing near the wagons. He appeared to be reviewing the details. “Who is that man?” he asked Maria, pointing.
“Mr. Jones?” Maria responded. “He was the dear friend of my father. Mr. Jones raised me. As you have already seen, he cannot speak. Drunken Anglos cut out his tongue many years ago.”
“What happened to him?” Harrison asked.
“Mr. Jones was born a slave. As a boy, he was caught trying to run away. They were drunk. He was only a slave runaway.” Maria tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
Harrison said nothing.
“This is what we do,” she said, changing the subject by pointing to the departing train.
Harrison watched as the train of wagons and riders prepared to depart the ranch. “Where are you shipping the guns? Do you expect to be ambushed along the way?” he asked.
“Your brother always encouraged us to support General Carranza and the Mexican government against the Villaistas. Bart said that he is the government of Mexico,” Maria said as she watched the wagon train move out the gate. “This shipment goes to General Carranza’s men. We will meet them south of here at a place called Las Varas. It will be a dangerous journey for them.”
“But you still support General Villa, Maria,” Harrison said. “You believe that somehow he’ll win.”
“Yes, Harry,” she said simply.
“It looks like business is good,, even with the embargo.”
“Since the Americans began enforcing their embargo, it has been difficult to buy weapons of good quality. This shipment came through the Arizona desert. The border is dangerous everywhere. Harry, I’m worried.” She crossed her arms and turned away from him. Tears welled up.
“But I think you’ve done the right thing to do business with General Carranza. You are protecting yourself and your people. You’ll be okay.” James spontaneously reached out to her and drew her close.
Maria did not resist, turning to bury her face in his chest. “No, Harry, if Villa is beaten, things will return to the old ways. They will arrest me, take my home and the people here…. I don’t know. It is too horrible to speak of. I did not make this war,” Maria said suddenly, her voice barely a whisper.
“We don’t make them, and we have no control over them once they begin,” Harrison said, trying to comfort her. “The strong survive, Maria, and you are strong.” Nothing will happen to her, he thought, with a sudden, hard resolve.
She wiped away her tears and took him by the arm again to lead him into the stables. “Come, I have a beautiful thing to show you,” she said, now holding his hand tightly. Inside, Maria pointed out a black stallion. “This is my horse,” she said proudly, running her hand affectionately over the broad back.
Harrison patted the flank of the stallion. “A marvelous animal,” he said. But he was more aware of the young beauty standing beside him.
Through the open stable doorway, he looked out upon the now deserted courtyard.
They walked hand in hand back toward the house. Harrison saw no sign of Maria’s brother or his friend. “Where is your brother?” he asked carefully.
“He is in El Paso. He spends much time there.”
“Who was the man with you and your brother that night?”
“You mean Carlos,” she said, sitting again on the couch.
“Carlos,” Harrison repeated. He thought again about that first encounter, and those dark, empty eyes burning into him from across the fire.
“He’s a hired gun,” she said, her lips near his ear. “Daniel must have a bodyguard if he goes to those places in El Paso. I insisted, Harry. It is so dangerous along the border. And now there is the reward.” She sighed, her breasts rising. “So he hired Carlos.”
“Because he’s good with a gun?” he asked.
“Yes. Carlos comes highly recommended.”
“By who, Maria? Who would recommend this man to you?” Harrison asked.
“A man I know in Columbus,” Maria said.
“Was Carlos from Columbus?” Harrison asked.
“I don’t know. He is Yaqui Indian. He came to us from Columbus.” She smiled up at him, removed the barrette, and threw her head back to shake her hair loose in an unselfconscious, natural gesture. “Are you concerned about him?”
“I’ve seen that type before, Maria. Very quick on the trigger. Very cold in the head.”
She smiled. “Harry, I think perhaps you see too much. Like a mirage in the desert.”
Entering through the wide wooden door, Maria pulled him along through the wide arches to the room where he had seen the great glass chandelier.
“Sit, Harry.” She sat on the old French settee, still holding his hand so he would sit beside her. “Another drink?” she asked. She moved closer until their bodies touched. The movement did not go unnoticed by James.
“Yes, please,” he answered, and poured it himself. He felt her breath against his face.
She moved closer. “Tell me about yourself.” She leaned forward deliberately to ensure he noticed her breasts.
Harrison and Maria spent the next hour on the settee, laughing and talking. He told her amusing stories from his many travels. He told her of the Champs Elysees with its wild mix of people; the smells of Rome in the spring; London’s winter fog; and Christmas in Santiago’s summer, delighting her with embellished anecdotes. Always he was aware of her.
Maria listened with fascination, laughing whole-heartedly at his stories. She imagined out loud strolling down the boulevards of Paris, or making love on a great ocean liner with a gallant man. “I will live in Paris someday. I have always dreamed of it,” she announced. “I will be a lady, like my grandmother, educated, with a gentleman to escort me. Yes, and I will be respected, not looked down upon simply because of the color of my skin.”
“Yes, I believe that,” Harrison said.
“You’ve had a very exciting life,” she said finally, touching his hand gently with a finger.
“Yes, Maria,” he smiled sadly. “But you will not be a useless wanderer.”
She sensed his inner pain. He was different from his brother. He was wounded in spirit. She bent and kissed his hand.
They embraced. Their lips met in a long and passionate kiss. Harrison held her trembling body tightly.
“Harry,” Maria gasped, pushing him away. “Come!” She stood and took him by the hand.
She led him upstairs. “You will stay here tonight.” It sounded more like a question than an order.
They entered her bedroom, a place he had not seen before.
“Yes.” Harrison’s throat felt constricted.
In the semi-darkness, Maria helped him with his coat. “I will take this.” She kissed his neck as she took off his holster, then unbuttoned his shirt and trousers. In a moment, he stood naked and erect before her. He kissed her mouth, then the tops of her breasts. He was intoxicated by the scent of her. Slipping her dress down slowly, he gently touched her nipples. She stood swaying as he pulled the dress down over her thighs. It dropped to the wood floor soundlessly.
Harrison wondered at the soft, smooth curves of her brown body, her breasts firm, nipples erect. He reached out to touch, to feel her warmth and her passion. He moved his hands slowly over her soft skin, exploring the smooth contours that flowed into each other. Maria moaned as his fingers massaged her back. He kissed her ear, her neck, and then his lips touched the nipple of her left breast.
“I want you,” he whispered hoarsely.
She kissed him on the forehead, caressing his chest. They embraced again. She felt the hard muscles of his back as her hands moved lower across his naked body. She felt the strength of his rigid organ pressing against her abdomen. She reached down with both hands to caress him. He touched her nipple again with the tip of his tongue.
“Come,” she whispered in his ear, squeezing him gently.
Before she could move, Harrison swept her up in his arms as though she were lighter than air, kissed her, then laid her gently in the bed.
She refused to let go, pressing his head down hard against her breasts. Maria touched his earlob
e softly with her tongue and, gently, she blew in his ear. “Come to me, gringo mio,” she whispered.
They made love in the silent darkness.
Much later, Maria quietly left the bed. She searched for something in the moonlight. His jacket. She put it on and left the room, only to return a few minutes later. Watching, James saw her body framed in the large, unshuttered window, illuminated by the moonlight.
She knew he was watching her, was excited again by his obvious desire. Maria slowly removed the jacket and lingered for a moment in the light. She felt truly free to be herself. And exhilarated to be making love with this man.
Maria returned to bed. “Hold me, Harry,” she whispered as she touched his hair.
In the darkness, he ran his palms over her hips and down her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her, Harrison held her close against him. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered softly.
In response, she rolled on top to straddle him. “Oh, you are a man,” she whispered.”
They made love again, finding their own rhythm.
*
A ray of early morning sun streamed through the window. They lay together under a soft linen sheet drinking coffee served by the Indian maid. Maria played with Harrison’s chest, her head against his neck. He smelled her hair.
She felt him stiffen slightly.
“Maria, if I could stay longer,” Harrison said, and touched her breast with his hand. “You are a miracle for me. You’re so real.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, still stroking his chest.
He smiled sadly. “You seem so alive. I don’t want to leave you.”
“You are my good man,” she answered.
“Did he love you, Maria?”
“He told me he did.” She knew he meant Bart. “We made love, but we were not lovers. Not like you and I.”
And Harrison believed her.
“Then he thought he had to protect me,” Maria told him. “I helped Bart and, because of that, he protected me. But your brother was always a soldier on duty,” she said. “Always, Harry. He could not give everything in love.”
“Bart’s life must have been complicated.”
Chasing Pancho Villa Page 16
