And the Devil Makes Five

Chapter 12 – Goin' to Texas

A giggle emanated from under the blanket, and that was music to Doc Holliday's ears. He patted the lump from above the covers and it giggled again and moved, wiggling around in the bed. The movement under Doc's fingers made him smile, especially since he knew who it was that was wiggling. Rosalie was a buxom girl of sixteen or seventeen and just Doc's type of woman. Still young and spirited, rather than old and worn-out, she was delighted to be the gringo's first choice, even if she didn't know exactly who he was. Underneath all the sarcastic bluster he had kind eyes, and proved to be a gentle and thoughtful lover.

So she was more than happy to stay in bed with him, even though they'd long since finished their lovemaking. Except for the incessant coughing, the muy extraño hombre was the most pleasurable experience she'd had in a long time. She continued to wiggle and giggle under the blankets and had no hesitation when she could see that he was ready and reached for her again. She came up from under the rough covers and they kissed, long and leisurely, and were just beginning to enjoy themselves when the door to the room burst open and three more gringos stood in the doorway. Bemused expressions on two of their faces, and a shocked one on the third, the man she laid next to didn't seem upset or embarrassed in the least. The one that spoke was the tallest and darkest of the three, and he tipped his hat to her before addressing her partner.

"Doc, isn't it a little early in the day for that?" Bret asked quite matter-of-factly.

Doc looked at the oldest gambler with puzzlement. "Blasphemer! It's never too early for a little love."

Bart spoke up next. "You were supposed to join us for breakfast, Doc."

Doc coughed, then laughed, then coughed again. "My friend, you have breakfast your way and I shall have it mine." He looked from one to the other, making note of Beau's still stunned expression. "Gentlemen, if you would be so kind, Rosalie and I have some business to finish. I shall meet you in the cantina for some libation shortly."

The two men in front both tipped their hats and the dark headed one closed the door behind them. Doc turned his head to Rosalie and smiled. "Now, young lady, I believe I was about to have seconds of breakfast."

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Bart sat back and laughed, the first thing he'd been able to laugh about since he woke up. "Doc makes life interesting, doesn't he?"

Beau looked askance at his cousin. "Interesting? You call that interesting? What kind of life is that, having to pay for a young ladies attention?"

Bart chuckled. "Better than no ladies attention."

The conversation was cut short as Doc sauntered into the cantina, looking just as pleased with himself as could be. "Gentlemen. This is a bit more civilized." He signaled the bartender, who produced a bottle and glass. Doc gathered both up and sat at the table, where Bret and Beau were finishing breakfast and Bart was having a serious conversation with his third cup of coffee. He'd let Bret talk him into some toast, just to help settle his stomach after last night, but that was as far as he was willing to go.

"Can I offer anyone a libation?" Doc raised the bottle and when three heads shook 'no' poured a glass full for himself. "How are you feeling this morning, Bart?"

The card sharp knew what he was being asked, and refused to take the bait. "Just fine, Doc. And you?"

"Ripe as a Georgia peach," came the answer, without a moment's hesitation. "I had a big breakfast."

Even Bret had to laugh at that. "Doc, there's nobody on earth like you!"

"Thank God," offered the gunslinger. "Are you all just about ready for our little charade?"

"Close," Beau said while finishing the last bit of food on his plate. "As long as you don't intend to go back to the same place for lunch."

Bart almost spit out the mouthful of coffee he was on the verge of swallowing. Even Bret had to put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Who knew Cousin Beau could be so witty?

Doc allowed a small smile. Maybe Beau Maverick wasn't such a proper fellow, after all. "I try never to have meals at the same place twice, Beau. I find that I enjoy my food a lot more that way."

Bart didn't dare laugh anymore. He'd spent enough time with Doc to know the more you laughed at his witticisms, the more he carried on. If they were going to ride out before the heat of the day they needed to go soon.

"Gentlemen, I'm ready when you are." Doc finished the whiskey in his glass and walked the bottle and glass back to the bar. "Take good care of these, Pedro. I shall return for them later."

The bill was paid, and the four men left the cantina, unaware that a lone figure watched them from the back of the building. In the darkened niche of the far corner almost entirely obscured by the dim light, a tall, blond man pushed his hat back on his head and watched the exit with interest. The badge in his pocket read 'Texas Ranger.'

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They'd been here before. The walls of the monastery were just as crumbled, the area around the building just as desolate. And there was no more gold here now than there had been before. They were going through the motions of pretending to look for what they knew they weren't going to find. After about two hours of playing in the dirt Bart had enough and found a dark corner to nap in. Beau soon followed suit and it wasn't long before Bret was the only one still standing. Morning turned to afternoon and Bret figured they'd been gone from town long enough, considering they were leaving in the morning. He attempted to wake Bart, who ignored him the first time and tried to go back to sleep. That was to be expected; Bart had been restless all night after the drinking incident. Beau was another story; he hadn't slept well the entire trip, too worried about Georgia to rest for any length of time. They got Doc up last; he'd actually been awake all night with Rosalie and at least had a reasonable excuse.

They returned to town the way they'd come out to the ruins, and on the ride back were watched by an entire regiment of Federales. They agreed they'd done as much stalling as they were capable of and decided to make this their last night in Nuevo Laredo, with no drinking on the menu for any of the Mavericks, just in case. Doc was always going to do just what Doc wanted when it came to whiskey. Besides, if they were ever going to talk to the Franciscan monks, who were hopefully more co-operative than the Anglicans, they were going to have to cross the border back into Laredo itself.

Dinner was eaten at the cantina, and no one drank anything stronger than coffee. Doc once again assumed possession of the whiskey bottle, but this time when the Americanos left for the night, the bottle went with him.

The night passed peacefully, much like the previous night was supposed to. When morning came all that was left was for everyone to saddle up and cross the Rio Grande River back into the United States and Laredo. If only it had been that easy.

Muy extraño hombre – Very odd man