I woke the next day to the sound of retching punctuated with sniffles and whimpers. Apparently, whiskey had not agreed with Tommy. Losing his virginity and getting his first hangover within a few hours of each other, he was growing up damn fast. When Tommy was all through getting sick, he dissolved into tears of shame. He worshipped Billy, so I guess he was afraid that Billy would lose respect for him when he saw how sick Tom was.
All his worrying was for nothing; Billy was still sound asleep under his coat. How he could have slept through the racket Tommy made as he threw up was anybody's guess.

"Don't let him find out," Tommy pleaded to me.

I took pity on Tommy and I helped him clean up the mess he'd made all over the ground. I gave him a cup of hot water with chamomile in it to drink so it would settle his stomach down. He passed out a minute later, curled up at Billy's feet like a faithful pet dog.

I squinted up at the sky. It was still fairly dark out. I could probably get an hour or two's worth of sleep before Billy would start hollerin' at us to wake up. Tiredly, I crawled back to the spot where I'd left my bedroll the night before. I laid my head down and started to close my eyes. But it seemed like my pillow was moving.

'What the hell...' I thought.

Turning my head slightly to the left, I realized that my pillow was Chavez's midsection. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled slightly.

"Good morning, Querida," he said. "You're up a little early."

"Tom wasn't feeling well so I got up to take care of him," I said. I knew he wouldn't ask what was wrong with Tom; he probably knew already. I tried to adjust my position and fiery pain shot through my back. "Shit!" I cursed.

"Is something wrong?" Chavez asked concernedly.

"Yeah." I said. "Everything from my neck down is all tight."

Chavez sat up, gently guiding me to the ground. He stripped off his gloves and said to me, "Roll over on your belly."

Had it been any other man, I would have told him to stick his gun barrel where the sun don't shine. But since I trust Chavez with my life, I listened to him. He put his big hands on the base of my neck. Slowly and gently, he applied pressure to the crick in it. A second later, it was gone. I closed my eyes as his hands kneaded my shoulders and loosened up my back. It felt wonderful; I couldn't help letting out a little moan of pleasure and relief.

At that exact moment, Arkansas Dave strolled into camp, hauling his trousers back into place. He stopped dead, his hazel-green eyes drifting over the pair of us. Finally, he found his voice. "What the hell are you doin'?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter; I'm fixing her back," Chavez replied coldly.

I sat up and rolled my shoulders back and forth. "Thank you so much," I said. "I can move now."

"I'm glad to help, Querida," he replied with an almost flirty smirk.

Billy emerged from underneath his coat and yawned loudly. Hendry and Doc sat bolt upright and started to gather their things; that yawn was our hint to break camp. Billy started to mount his horse, but doubled over in midstep. Rubbing his shirtfront, he declared, "I think it's time to put somethin' in my belly 'sides whiskey."

"Couldn't hurt," Doc agreed, putting his hat on. "But, Billy, we're wanted men. We can't go door to door and ask people if they'll feed us."

"I know Jane would, but she can't cook worth a damn," said Dave. He gave us a nasty grin. "'Course, cookin' ain't exactly in her job description."

"That's enough of that kinda talk," said Hendry sternly. "There's womenfolk and children present, Rudabaugh."

"Tommy ain't a child no more. Are ya, Tommy?" asked Dave.

Tommy didn't answer. We saddled up and followed Billy's lead to a tiny little ranch house. A stout little fellow with dark, curly hair and an easy grin opened the door. I couldn't believe my eyes; it was Charley Bowdre. Charley was pleased as punch to see us and invited us in the house.

"Manuela can fix y'all somethin' to eat soon as she's finished tendin' to Marisol," said Charley.

"Marisol?" Doc was confused.

"My baby," Charley said with a proud smile on his face. "Hope ya don't mind that she's your namesake, 'Rena. I always thought Marisol was a purty name."

"Mind? I'm flattered," I said.

Charley's wife emerged from the bedroom with a tiny bundle of blankets in her arms. Charley slipped a loving arm around Manuela, gloating about how lovely the baby was and how lucky he was to have his wife and child. Doc looked away. I knew he was thinking of his own infant daughter, Hope, who was currently in New York. He'd told me how helpless and scared he'd felt as he sat at Yen's bedside, watching her struggle to deliver their child. For a minute, he'd thought Yen would die, along with the baby. He named the little girl Hope to remind himself never to give up.

Billy held up a mug of stone-cold coffee and toasted to the health of Charley, Manuela, and little Marisol. Manuela handed the baby to Charley and went to the kitchen to prepare a meal for us. I followed, thinking it was only right to help as a fellow woman. I tied on an apron and Maneula showed me how to grind tortillas.

"There is a special man in your life," she said to me suddenly. "You not say it, he not say it, but you both love each other."

"That's kind of the size of it," I replied.

"You should tell him you love him. Then you can make beautiful children together."

I laughed slightly. Not for the life of me could I picture myself as a mother. I knew Father wanted grandchildren, but the truth was, I was scared to death to give birth. So many women in our village died during childbirth that it put me off the idea of family. Of course, I could try to adopt a kid like Tommy who needed a good home, but somehow it wouldn't feel the same as a child of my own.

Manuela and I prepared nothing short of a feast for the evening. Frijoles, posole, green chile, quesidillas, rice, and I forget what else. Tommy got his appetite back and dug in like he hadn't seen food since the Lincoln administration. The rest of the boys were in great spirits, even Dave was bearable. We almost forgot we were on the run. We were just pals, dropping in to share supper with some other pals.

It was dark by the time we finished eating. We were all so tired and full it made no sense to ride away and set up camp somewhere. Instead, we all crowded around Charley's woodburning stove and slept on his kitchen floor.