Fathers and Sons Chapter Eleven: Viejos Amigos
Jorge Sanchez was angry. Furious. His wound ached, even though over two weeks had passed since the bullet had struck his arm. His feet remained blistered and sore from another long, painful walk in the desert. Slim, limp still pronounced, was mad as well. It had taken him hours to pull out the cholla spines from his arm and leg. It was now not just a matter of revenge, but a matter of honor to rid the earth of those two hombres, Cannon and Montoya. May a plague infest their houses, Sanchez thought. I will carve out their hearts and eat them for breakfast. May they wake up in hell, Slim, the blunter of the two, mused.
For over a week the two comancheros had staked out the Cannon ranch, awaiting their opportunity. At last Montoya and Cannon rode out, but with a crew of eight which made ambush unwise. Never would Sanchez assault a superior force. Such discretion had kept him alive on many occasions.
They trailed their quarry to Sonora, remaining undetected. Outside the Hacienda Montoya, Slim and Sanchez witnessed the eight Chaparral men depart, driving a large herd of cattle before them. Ambushing that many would be foolhardy, and Jorge Sanchez was never foolish. His patience was rewarded when he saw Montoya and Cannon leave on their own. Following them brought Slim and him to Casa Cueva. Whatever their enemies' business in that pueblo might be, Sanchez knew they must soon return to Arizona. Alone. Without their bodyguards, killing them would be much, much easier.
"Sanchez, check out the riders coming in," Slim whispered from his post atop a rocky outcropping overlooking Casa Cueva.
"At this hour! Who would be so foolish as to travel this early in the day?"
Through the gloom, Ruiz and Paco rode capable ranch horses and led another very fine horse. Through his binoculars Sanchez saw an elegant black stallion, perhaps young, or perhaps too finely bred, because he did not seem easy to lead. He recognized old Montoya's stable master. He did not care who the young boy might be.
"Whoo-wee, that's some horse they've got!"
"Yes, Slim. I wonder why they are bringing such a fine animal to such a dusty old pueblo."
"Who cares? Let's ride down there and take him from 'em." Slim urged.
"Not so hasty. Let us see what they intend to do with that fine horse."
Slim ground his teeth in frustration. All this waiting went against his nature and Sanchez annoyed him even more than Montoya and Cannon. He could have been successful at least twice in the past had he overruled Sanchez. Yet he did what Jorge Sanchez said, again, and hoped this time they would come out on top.
Hoofbeats roused Mano long before dawn. He did not awaken Roy, but stole out of his bedroll, shirtless, his feet bare on the dirt floor of the barn. He buckled on his gunbelt and cocked his pistola as he crept toward the open door. Peering outside he spied two figures on horseback approaching the barn, leading a spirited third horse that pranced and snorted. He pushed open the door a little more, sighed, and uncocked his gun, replacing the safety catch and placing it in his holster.
"Hola Ruiz. Buenos dias, amigo!" he whispered. Ruiz had no trouble hearing him in the soundless pre-dawn.
"Manolito! Cómo estás?" the old man replied in a low voice.
"Muy bien, gracias. Ah Pacquito, you are helping your abuelo this morning then?"
"Sí, Don Manolo. In case the stallion was too troublesome, I could assist in his recapture," Paco whispered.
Mano chuckled, "And was he troublesome, your charge?"
"No, not really. He is a little excitable, but that is the nature of stallions, no?" Paco answered.
"Sí, es verdad! Your abuelo has taught your well, Pacquito. Bring him inside the barn, please, but no noise. Someone is sleeping." And he gestured to Roy's prone figure as they brought the stallion, now calmer, into the barn.
Mano opened a stall door. Ruiz dismounted and led the stallion in to find hay, water, and a chance to settle down before the journey north.
"Remember, Manolito, your father does not know that I have arranged for you to borrow Toronado. Only Pacquito and I know where we have brought him and I am certain we shall not tell."
Pacquito shook his head no and placed his finger over his lips in confirmation of his pledge of silence.
"Bueno," Mano smiled. "Oh, and by the way, I have instructed Pepe to ensure Papá has only the finest food and wine for the foreseeable future, to keep him contented and happy and in this way avoid his striding around the place finding fault."
Ruiz wondered why Manolito had not noticed how tired Don Sebastian seemed these days...and that he did much less striding around and finding fault than he used to. Well, no matter. Good food would not hurt Don Sebastian.
"I would let Toronado eat a little more hay and drink his fill of water before setting out, Manolito. In that way, he may be a little easier to handle. You and Señor Cannon are traveling alone?" Mano nodded yes. "Then you should keep him between your two horses to ensure his temper remains a little more pliable. He is young and foolish, and I am sure you remember how your own blood boiled when you were young and foolish."
Mano smiled, not trusting himself to laugh aloud for fear of waking Roy, although he would have enjoyed a good belly laugh at that little dig. Ruiz knew both him and the horse too well.
"I will do as you say, Ruiz, and be very careful of his temper. We should only take a day or so to catch up to the men and cattle."
"Not too near those smelly brutes please? I mean the cattle, of course!"
"Por supuesto! I will make sure he has only the finest air to breathe and the freshest water to drink." And Mano laid his hand on his heart as he pledged his devotion to the stallion.
"You may wish to give your father the breeding fee when you come back for the mares, or you may wait until after Toronado has accomplished what is required."
"Er, I think I will wait, Ruiz. I think my father can do without the breeding fee, at least until then, eh?" Mano's smile caused his dimples to deepen.
"We will not stay, Manolito. It is best we return to Rancho Montoya before we are missed. If asked I can say that Paco and I were called out to help a friend in trouble. This is no lie and only a slight omission of the whole truth."
"How will you explain the absence of the stallion?"
"I shall think of something. Do not let this concern you. Adios y hasta luego!" The men embraced and Mano tousled Paco's hair, winking at him.
"Adios, adios!" Mano waved at them both as they walked their horses out of the barn and through the back streets of the tiny village. He heard them break into a lope, but it was only after some minutes, so they must have been well clear of Casa Cueva by then. Roy remained asleep. Mano knew this by the sound of his snoring, which had almost drowned out his conversation with Ruiz. Madre de Dios, this hombre could sleep!
As the sun rose and life stirred in Casa Cueva, the two friends took leave of their young business partner and his prospective new relations. Mano was glad that Roy had found love and would enjoy a settled life doing what he wanted to do most in the world, with the woman he loved beside him. If only Cedita….he brushed the thought aside before the old wound opened again. There was work to be done now and he must focus on that. Success loomed. What could go wrong?
"We gonna stop soon, Mano?" Buck asked long after the sun had reached its height.
"Why?"
"Why? Why? You askin' me why?"
"Sí"
"Because my belly thinks my throat's been cut. My horse needs a rest and some water and my backside, too."
"Your backside needs water?" Mano said, pretending to misunderstand.
"No! I mean I need to rest. NOW! Mano! C'mon. Let's stop, please?" Buck groused and Mano laughed aloud. He loved to tease his amigo.
"Okay. All right. We will stop. There is a small spring up ahead with some shade, if I remember correctly, where we can step down from our saddles and stretch our legs a little."
"Oh, that sounds wunnerful, amigo."
The spring was as Mano had described it: bubbling from gray rocks and surrounded by a small stand of scrawny cottonwoods. Buck was never so happy to see anyplace. I need to get some air between me and that saddle, he thought.
They dismounted and found a sturdy but stunted live oak where they could make a decent picket line to tie the horses. It wouldn't do to leave the stallion secured just to a bush as they might have done with only their saddle horses. They loosened cinches but did not remove saddles, and when they were sure their animals would not be leaving without them, they refilled their canteens in the spring, splashing their faces with clear, cool water. Buck pulled out a package from his saddlebag and unfolded a cheesecloth.
"What is that, Buck?"
"Amigo, this here is pure manna from heaven." And he closed his eyes and inhaled the aroma which wafted out.
"What?" Mano looked puzzled till he saw four folded tortillas bulging with what must have been the remains of the carne asada and beans they had eaten the night before. "Ah, Teresa gave you some food for our journey. How thoughtful!"
"She's nearly as much of a angel as Victoria." Buck said around a mouthful of tortilla.
Mano grabbed one before he was left with just a visual memory of such angelic food.
"Compadre, this is really good," he announced. Buck did not comment for he was cramming his mouth with a second tortilla. Mano was content that Buck should consume three to his one. He was never as hungry as Buck.
They stretched their legs and then tightened the cinches of their saddles, letting all three horses drink their fill before mounting and setting out again. The sun was now westerly and they would have at least another few hours of riding before they would catch up to Joe and the cattle. They had seen plenty of sign that the herd had passed this way, not at their little spring, but on the main trail to which they had returned. Five hundred cattle left distinctive marks and one would have to be blind to miss their tracks.
The trail wound into a narrow arroyo and suddenly Mano's senses sharpened.
"Buck," he rasped in a low voice.
"Yeah, Mano?"
"Shh. Do not you think that arroyo looks a little too quiet?"
"Huh?"
"Shhh!"
"Looks like a arroyo to me. No different than a hunnert others."
"It does not seem to you, cómo se dice, unnaturally quiet?"
"Unnatch…? Mebbe, Mano. It do seem a little quiet at that."
Mano pulled up his horse and Buck stopped about two steps later. Mano had the stallion, who until now had remained calm and placid. Suddenly, the horse whinnied and pawed the ground.
"He does not think everything is bueno, hombre!"
"No, he don't. We goin' in?"
""Sí. I think we should gallop through that arroyo as fast as we can – and not in a straight line."
Buck agreed. "Aw right, amigo. Git yore gun ready."
"Tres, dos, uno – ahora. Vamonos!" and saying this, Mano kicked Macadoo into the fastest gallop he could manage while still zig zagging and leading the stallion. Toronado's nostrils flared and his panicked eyes grew wild as he tried to break free. Mano had wrapped the stallion's line several times around his own saddle horn, keeping his palm on top to hold it in a death grip, fighting to stay on his own mount. He knew whoever these idiots were, they would not shoot the horse, but Dios mío, who said they were good shots?
There was not enough room for all three horses to ride abreast so Buck brought up the rear. He had no choice...for Mano had taken off so quickly on Macadoo that he and Rebel scrambled to keep up.
From up ahead, shots rang out. Mano was no fool. He spotted an outcropping of rock with bushes on one side where they would have at least a little protection. No sense riding headlong into gunfire when he had no idea how many banditos there were.
Buck pulled Rebel up behind him. They squeezed the horses almost into the bushes to give them cover and threw themselves behind a boulder.
"Who you think it is, Mano?"
"Quién sabe?"
"How many you think?"
"No se!"
A couple more shots ricocheted off the rocks. Mano looked for flashes, but could see only two puffs of smoke—rifles—in two places, but pretty close together. Jorge Sanchez and Slim—their names popped unbidden into his mind.
"I think it might be our two friendly comancheros, compadre, and I do not think they are happy with us."
"You be right about that."
"We are trapped here, amigo, and I do not know how we are going to get out of this."
Just then several shots were fired rapidly in their direction and they ducked behind the rocks, returning fire whenever they could without getting their heads blown off. If Mano had to guess, he would have said Sanchez and Slim were moving closer. The next shot split off a chunk of granite right in front of him and confirmed his surmise.
"They's gittin' closer." Buck announced. Not that anyone needed to hear this.
"Perhaps, if you can cover me, I can circle behind them."
"No way, Mano! You ain't goin' out there. You always do like this and I always let you. Well, not this time, amigo."
Buck stood up to make his move and a lucky shot clipped his upper arm, forcing him to the ground.
"Ay, amigo, why did you do that? Let me see." Mano examined the wound and tied Buck's bandanna around it. "It is only a flesh wound, compadre. You were lucky."
"Well, it do smart." Buck sucked in his breath against the pain.
Mano readied for another attempt when gunfire erupted behind Sanchez and Slim. He heard the sound of galloping hooves.
Joe and Pedro barreled through the arroyo on their horses and pulled up just beyond the boulder, dismounting and leaping to join them.
"You okay Mano, Buck?"
"I'm fine, but Buck has been hit."
"Hey, now we are now rescuing you, amigos!" Pedro laughed while pouring water from his canteen over Buck's wound.
"Ouch! Watch out there, Pedro!"
Sanchez and Slim appeared with their hands in the air and two figures walking behind them, rifles pointed at the backs of the outlaws. As they approached, Buck could see it was Reno and Arrigo holding the guns.
"Hey amigos, we shore are glad to see you." He chuckled, wincing as Pedro poured more water on his arm. "Pedro, that do ache!"
"Mano, who are these characters?" Joe asked jerking his thumb in the direction of the captured bandits.
"They are the leaders of that group of comancheros who have been causing us all sorts of trouble, Jose, and I am very glad you have got them." Sanchez snarled and spit. Slim remained silent while Mano's face gleamed with satisfaction.
"What'll we do with 'em then?" Joe asked.
"I think the best thing would be to get some lawman to take 'em away for us. They belong in Yuma," Buck suggested.
"Well I hate to tell ya, but we are only just over the U.S. border and there's no law for quite some distance," Joe said.
"That is true, but I think we can keep them tied and take them with us to the Chaparral, no? Then perhaps Reno could go and fetch that marshal from Prescott. What was his name? Parker?"
"Packer, Mano. Marshal Virgil Packer." Buck corrected him.
"Oh, sí, you and he became good friends, no? Hey, were you not his deputy?"
"Not shore I'd say we wuz friends exactly, an' I warn't his deputy. But I guess we come to understand each other."
"Well then, he would be a good lawman to fetch, would he not? He had no love of banditos if my memory serves me well."
"No he purely did not, Mano. He hated them banditos. Aw right, we do it. Reno, if you leave now, you think you could fetch Marshal Packer back to the High Chaparral an' arrive 'bout the same time we do?"
"Sure Buck, be glad to. Maybe we'd better get these hombres back to camp first though."
"Good eyedee, Reno!"
"Yeah," Joe added. "Good thing we decided to bed down early so you could catch up with us. If we hadn't stopped fer the night just at the end of the arroyo, we wouldn'ta heard the shots."
"Joe, you be a smart man," Buck slapped him on the back with his good arm. "Let's get us to camp. But first, fellas, let me introduce you to our new amigo here. He's gonna make me and Mano some money fer sure. Lookee here, gents, this here is Toronado."
As the men talked, Mano had eased his way to the stallion, stroking his neck to calm him and humming "La Gallina" in a low, soothing tone. The horse gentled. But at the mention of his name, he tossed his head as if to acknowledge his greatness.