Slocum #395 : Slocum and the Trail to Yellowstone (9781101553640) (20 page)

“No, you were fine. Thanks so much for your hospitality.”

Silvia took him through the great room and down the shadowy hallways to a thick door with the image of a fire-breathing dragon carved into the wood.

“Man, that is a monster,” he said, holding the door open for Silvia.

“No, that is my guard dog.” She laughed freely and began to undress. “Can you believe this place?” She held her hand out toward the opulent setting of a huge, high bed, wall hangings, and French doors letting in a warm wind. There was a six-foot painting of a woman in a fine dress on one wall, perhaps a little too sexy for most formal paintings, but she was a looker.

“That is the woman I never knew,” Silvia said with her arms wrapped around him.

He studied the face and finally said, “I can see you in her.”

“Others say the same. I have talked to people who work here that knew her, and they said we came from the same marble.”

He nodded. She finished undressing and slipped into a white robe just before a knock came at the door.

“Please let them in,” she said to him.

He agreed and opened the dragon-decorated door. A half dozen men and women carried buckets of hot water and towels, and one gray-headed man brought a stack of men's clothing.

“If they don't fit you, senor, ask for more.”

“Gracias,”
Slocum said, and set them on a vanity. “I will do that.”

Satisfied, the man nodded and left ahead of the bucket brigade.

Silvia was thanking them as she herded them out and put the latch in place. Shaking her head over the matter of running them off, she turned and opened the robe for Slocum to see her naked.

“I'm a real whore, aren't I?”

He shook his head and toed off his boots. “I never paid you a dime.”

“Good, I still have a chance.” She set the robe aside, stepped over dainty-like, and slid down into the smaller of the high-backed copper tubs. “I saved the big one for you. I hope you fit in it.”

“I'll figure it out,” he said and finished undressing. The water felt hot enough to his hand, and he anticipated that the warmth would loosen his back muscles, which were tight from driving the buggy for three days to get here.

When they finished bathing and had dried off, he tossed her onto the bed as though she were a feather and climbed in to join her. She recovered from his toss and sat up with her arms out for him. “Now we can get sticky all over again.”

 

After supper at the great table, Silvia's father, Raúl, invited Slocum into his den that contained books, bookshelves, and a great desk. Some of the books were American classics; others were Spanish books on many things, from trade to scientific books on cattle and horse diseases.

Raúl poured them each some whiskey in crystal glasses and offered Slocum a Cuban cigar. The end of the cigar cut off, her father lit the smoke for him, then did the same for himself. He pointed to the deep leather chairs, and they took their drinks and sat down. There were some very different patterns of cowhides on the floor.

“Well, senor, welcome to my casa. I must thank you for bringing my daughter back.”

“My pleasure. You have a lovely daughter, a fine staff, and a great casa here.”

“My casa is a source of great pride for me, and there is only one thing important to me: my daughter. Is she all right?”

“She's fine. We met a few days ago. She said she needed to come home for her grandmother's birthday. So I drove her down here, not knowing what I'd find.”

Raúl nodded. “Did you worry about coming here with her?”

“Matter of fact, at first I was nervous.”

Raúl nodded as if considering the words. “I am not an angry man. My wife had this same condition. Back then, I was young and vain and could not understand what she was doing. I know now I should have done things different—maybe? Maybe not? But I saw she needed to be free. I worry about men taking advantage of my Silvia.”

“She is not some dumb girl. She may never find herself, but you had a price to pay to keep her. You have done well.”

“Will she ever settle down?”

Slocum blew a mouthful of smoke at the bright lamps overhead. “I think she wants control of a man, like one wants a bronc horse to be broken. But she won't stay with him when he finally is like that.”

Raúl nodded as though he thought the same thing. “You are a wise man, Slocum. She picked well. Now, what I can I do to repay you for bringing her home?”

“Sell me five hundred big steers that I can send to market in Kansas and make some money.”

“No problem. Is that enough?”

“That would suit me fine.”

“When do you want them?”

“Middle of March in San Antonio. How much will they cost?”

“Oh, fifteen dollars a head. I can send some of my men to drive them up to San Antonio for you. And you can pay me this fall.”

“Oh, that might be asking too much. I can raise the money for them.”

“Don't do that.”

“Do you want a note?”

“We are men with an understanding. We can shake hands.”

Slocum did that and then downed the whiskey. “It must be Christmas—I came here to bring Silvia home and found just what I was looking for for business. I need to go send a telegram.”

“Write it out. One of my men can go to the office in the morning and send it for you.”

“Gracias.”
Sanchez could go to hell. Slocum would have Sobell tell Sanchez he'd made a better deal.

They drank more whiskey and talked about horses and war. At last, a few hours later, Slocum went down the hall to the dragon-door room. He tried the door and found it unlocked, and when he opened the door to step inside the dimly lit room, out of nowhere a pillow hit him in the face.

Silvia stood naked as Eve in the middle of the bed. “I didn't bring you down here to talk all night with that old man.”

“Well,” he said, toeing off his boots, “you never said he was such a real nice guy. I couldn't just jump up and leave him.”

“You are mine, not his.” She came flying off the bed to attack him.

“Darling, you must have worked up a real mad while I was gone.” He caught her up in his arms and then threw her back on the bed. “Hold your horses. I'm coming.”

Undressed, he climbed in and pinned her down on the silk sheets.

“And another thing: Stop tossing me in bed. . . .”

He smothered her mouth with his. What a hellcat.

Back in San Jose, he caught up with Sobell in the plaza the morning after they arrived back. The drover was eating oatmeal, complaining about his stomach.

“About time you got back here. That damn Sanchez called you everything but a white man when I broke the news to him. You really get some cattle down there?”

He slurped more of his milky oatmeal off his spoon, and then looked up for an answer.

“I have five hundred big steers coming from Mexico that cost fifteen dollars a head, and I have them financed.”

“Holy shit. You need a partner?”

“No, but I need a drover.”

Sobell dropped his chin for more cereal. “I guess I can crank one up.”

“The cattle will be in San Antonio in mid-March.”

“Damn, when you go off, you make good deals.”

Slocum looked around to be certain no one would hear him. “Now, where are we at with those two boss-killers?”

“They stay in old Mexico. Them boys ain't crossing the Río Bravo unless they got a rope around their neck and hands tied on the horn.”

“And we can collect the reward up in the hill country?” Slocum asked.

“I ain't too sure about that. The sheriff said we could, but he ain't got the money, I'd bet. It's in the bank, and they might shake us down on the amount.”

“What if I run up there, meet the family, and get their word we can collect it?”

“Wouldn't hurt none. I heard they stay close to their ranch. I don't think anyone will spook them away from there. I sure could use my part of it.” Sobell looked over at him hard.

“Take me two days to get up there, a day or so to find them, and two to get back. I'll wire you to have saddle horses ready if I'm certain we can collect it.”

“Good.” Sobell slumped in the chair and rubbed his flat belly. “I eat that damn many hot peppers again, I want you to kick my ass. By the way, where is that slinky lady you were with?”

“I left her up in the room sleeping.”

“I wouldn't leave her anywhere. Man, she is good-looking.”

Slocum nodded. Later on he would tell Sobell about her, her father, and his arrangement with the man. That could wait. At the moment, he needed a horse and buggy and her up and ready to go.

He ate his tortilla-wrapped breakfast and drank down some more rich coffee before he left money for his meal, and left Sobell to his bellyache.

Silvia, a little sleepy eyed, had no desire to miss going with him. “I will wear my ranching clothes?”

“That would be better, yes.”

“No problem.” She was kneeling on the edge of the bed, waiting for a kiss. Her fancy lace nightgown was open down the front, and he took a good feel of her right breast while he kissed her.

She shook her head at him after he stepped back. “Oh, I'll get you—later.”

In a half hour, her things were loaded and strapped down. They left in the buggy at a fast jog. Grain feeding on their last trip had really shaped up the gelding, which he called Harry, into a high condition, and he moved out smartly. The river was shallow enough to cross.

“Damn,” she said when they were on the American side, shocked at the horse's pace. “He's about to race this morning.”

Slocum laughed. He hoped this trip was as good as his last one. The company was sure sweet anyway.

They spent the night on the El Paso Road in a small inn. The place was clean, and since they had to be quiet or wake up the house, they managed to keep their lovemaking to a softer noise level. After the breakfast the innkeeper's wife cooked, they were headed northwest and arrived in Mason past lunchtime. After they checked into the small hotel, Slocum went to find the Whitackers and left Silvia to rest. The postal clerk told him they lived on Weldon Creek and drew a map.

“This is the family that lost a man up north in a robbery-murder?”

“Laferty Whitacker. That's him. Did they ever find his body?”

“I don't know. Thanks.” Slocum took his map and left.

Over supper in a German restaurant, he told Silvia about his deal and asked if she wanted to go along in the morning.

“Sure, see some new country and be with you.”

His spoiled girl was on the happy side, so he took her back to the room and made her happier.

Afterward, they lay on their backs and the streetlights below illuminated the tin squares in their ceiling.

“Did you like the hacienda?” she asked.

“What I saw of it, yes. I spent most of my time behind the dragon.”

She was tickled at that and laughed till she cried. “Behind the dragon is funny.”

He agreed, curled around her, and dropped off to sleep.

Whitacker's Ranch was an impressive place. Big two-story whitewashed house with corrals, windmills, and a row of old jacals for the help to live in. A blond woman in her thirties, maybe early forties, came out on the porch holding her shoulder-length hair to one side in the south wind.

He took off his hat. “Ma'am, I hate to bother you, but is this where the Whitackers live? The family that lost their man?”

“Yes, sir. Would you and your woman like to come in? I have fresh coffee made.”

“Silvia, she wants to talk inside.”

“I'm coming,” she said and came off the buggy before he could get over to help her.

The woman, who gave her name as Nan, had them sit down at a large table. “Why are you asking about my husband?”

“The two men who are accused of the robbery can, I think, be located. But it will be dangerous and require some expenses.”

She finished pouring coffee in their cups and sat down to listen.

“Now, I know the law talks a good game,” Slocum told her. “But they have not caught them.”

“I agree. Is that your business? Go find and catch them?”

“It is from time to time.” Silvia was all ears, since she'd only heard bits and pieces of the situation before this meeting.

“Mister, there is a thousand dollars in the Texas National Bank in Mason if you can bring them two dead or alive to the jail.”

“Ma'am, how will I know you will pay it?”

Nan blinked her eyes at him. “They killed my husband. They stole several thousand dollars from him that he collected from a cattle dealer in Billings. I have a receipt they sent me showing the amount, twelve or so thousand dollars, that they paid him.”

“I doubt they have any of that money left. I'm sorry.”

“That won't be any problem. I want to see them hang. I'll pay you or whoever a thousand dollars for capturing them.”

“Now, I'm talking about delivery here. They'll have to be tried in Montana.”

“Mister, if I have to drag them feetfirst up there myself, I want them hung.”

Slocum sipped his coffee. Good rich Arbuckles. “Then if we do find them, we can collect the total reward.”

“Damn right.”

“No problem. But many times local law forces expect a large portion of the reward for themselves.”

“You get them. I'll pay you the whole thing.”