The Lawman Page 5
A lookout had passed the word that the bandidos were coming, so when the three men showed up with the horses, it was no surprise.
Except for them.
The horses were herded into the corral behind the livery, and then the three men walked through the stable to get to the other side.
As they entered Jose clubbed one of them over the head with his gun, while Decker did the same on the other side of the door. The third man, who had been walking between the other two, froze and stared into Decker’s gun.
Jose came up behind him and put him to sleep, too.
“All right, quickly,” Decker said. “Let’s tie them up and see what’s happened in the saloon.”
What was happening in the saloon was that the bandidos had taken every table, and the men without tables were standing at the bar.
“Drinks for all my men, Paco!” Gilberto shouted, slamming his hand down on the table.
“Si, señor.”
Gilberto sat at one table with Raquel while his men crowded at the others, and the bar.
“Where is my Juanita, Paco?” he demanded, loudly.
“She is getting the food ready.”
“That’s my good girl,” Gilberto said. “She knows how to treat her man.”
Raquel made a noise and looked away.
Juanita heard the light knock on the door and opened it hurriedly. When Decker entered he saw that her hands were shaking.
“Don’t get nervous on me now, Juanita,” he said, taking her hands in his. “I need you.”
“I will be fine.”
“How’s the food coming?”
“It is almost ready.”
“Good.”
Decker could hear a man’s voice shouting from the other room.
“Is that him?”
“That is him.”
“He’s got a big mouth, hasn’t he?”
She smiled nervously and said, “Yes, he has a very big mouth.”
“Where is Ramon?” Gilberto shouted.
Behind the bar Paco froze, and wondered if he had cleaned the blood off the floor well enough.
“I sent Ramon ahead!” Gilberto yelled. “Where is he?”
Paco’s bottom lip quivered, and his hands shook…
From the kitchen Decker could feel it. He could feel Paco’s hand shaking.
“Get out there,” Decker said to Juanita, giving her a little push.
“What do I say?”
Decker told her…
“Where is Ramon?” Gilberto asked again.
At that moment Juanita came out of the kitchen, just as Paco was about to crumble.
“There is my Juanita,” Gilberto said, putting his arms out.
Juanita came over and allowed him to put his arms around her waist and rub his face in her bosom.
“Mmm,” he said, “she is always the cleanest woman I have ever smelled.”
“That’s because you always smell so dirty,” Raquel said.
“And you?” Gilberto asked.
“I,” Raquel said, giving Juanita a nasty look, “am going to the hotel to take a bath.”
Raquel got up and walked out, followed by the eyes of every man in the place, even the frightened Paco. Her jeans were so tight they showed her heart-shaped behind flow up into her thin waist.
“Ah, Juanita, did you miss me?” Gilberto asked.
“Si, Gilberto,” Juanita said without enthusiasm, “I missed you.”
“Perhaps you can tell me, eh?”
“Tell you what?”
“Where is Ramon?” Gilberto asked, his tone puzzled. “I sent him on ahead.”
“He was here,” Juanita said. “How do you think I knew to put on an extra pot of food?”
“Well then where is he?”
“He is at the hotel.”
“What is he doing there?
Juanita gave Gilberto a reproachful look and said, “Papa hired a new girl, and Ramon decided to try her out.”
“Ah, that Ramon,” Gilberto said, moving his hand down from her waist to cup her behind. “Is she very pretty, this new girl?”
“Pretty enough.”
“But not as pretty as you, eh, my Juanita?”
“No, Gilberto,” Juanita said, “not as pretty as me. Will you let me go now so I can bring out the food? Your men look hungry.”
“I will release you now,” Gilberto said, letting her go, “but after we eat will be another matter, eh?”
“ ’Yes,” Juanita said, “it will be another matter, Gilberto.”
Chapter Eleven
Juanita went back into the kitchen and collapsed against Decker’s chest. He put his arms around her, extremely conscious of her plump breasts crushed against his chest.
“You did fine, Juanita, just fine.”
“Raquel, she went to the hotel. She will know that Ramon is not there.”
“She left before you told him that,” Decker said. “Don’t worry, this will all be over soon. Come on, you’ve got to add the last ingredient to the food.”
Next to the stove, on the floor, was a pile of what looked like salt, only it wasn’t. It had taken a lot of glasses to make that particular pile of “salt.”
“Come on, spoon it in,” Decker said, aware that he was telling her to do something that would kill most of the thirty men out there, all of whom he did not know. Still, he knew that if they had the chance, they would gladly kill him.
He’d do anything to avoid that.
Juanita called Paco in to help her serve the food. “You’ve got to go as fast as you can and get as many of these plates served before someone bites into theirs. Do you understand?”
“We should have more people.”
“Have you had more people in the past?”
“No.”
“Then they’d be suspicious if you did now, wouldn’t they?”
“One more wouldn’t hurt,” Juanita said, and she looked so frightened that Decker gave in, hoping it wouldn’t blow the whole deal.
“All right, get me an apron and introduce me as…as John—if anyone asks.”
They got him an apron. He took off his gunbelt, tucked his gun into his belt, and put the apron on over it.
“How many can you carry?” Juanita asked.
“How many can you?”
“Six?”
“Jesus,” he said, “give me four.”
She balanced four on his arms, two each, and then she and Paco took six apiece. That made sixteen, and there were plenty more men out there who wouldn’t get any if someone started eating too fast.
Should have thought of that before, Decker thought. He could have had Juanita put out empty plates, and then one main dish in the center of each table. That way they would have had more of a chance of getting a maximum number of bandidos before they realized something was wrong.
It was too late now. He knew which one was Gilberto, and that’s who he’d take out first when things started going.
“Let’s go.”
They went out with their plates and started doling them out. The bandidos, fresh from the trail, were all drinking beer or whiskey, and Juanita had time to go back into the kitchen and get some more plates, handing a couple quickly to Decker. Some of the men at the bar caught Paco and asked for more drinks.
They got twenty plates served before Gilberto looked suspiciously at Decker.
“Juanita!”
“Si?”
“Who is this?”
Juanita looked at Decker, who had stopped on his way back to the kitchen.
“Uh, that is John. We hired him to help out.”
“When?”
“Uh, yesterday.”
“He does not look like a waiter,” Gilberto said, looking at Decker’s boots, “and he does not dress like a waiter.”
Suddenly, the bandit leader saw the bulge beneath Decker’s apron.
“And he carries a gun? Come here—” Gilberto started, and he began to rise when suddenly there was a scream, followed by another.
Gilberto turned in the direction of the scream and saw that several of his men were yelling, clutching at their throats, or bleeding from the mouth.
“What—”
He grabbed for his gun, not knowing what was going on but knowing something was wrong, and that Decker was no waiter.
Decker went for his gun, but the hammer caught on the apron. Gilberto fired, striking Decker in the left shoulder. Decker spun with the impact, pulled his gun free and fired at Gilberto, hitting him in the right arm. The bandit’s hand opened and he dropped his gun.
Above them several newly sawed hatches in the ceiling opened and men began to fire down into the crowd of bandits. The men at the bar drew their guns, but two men with shotguns entered by the front batwing doors, and three came in from the back, led by Jose. They all fired both barrels, shredding the men at the bar to pieces.
Decker was down on one knee, firing his gun at any man he could see who wasn’t bleeding from the mouth.
Gilberto was on the floor, groping for his gun with his left hand. Juanita came up behind him and hit him over the head with a plate of tortillas. A bullet struck her then, and she went down.
“Juanita!” Paco shouted. He came out from behind the bar and a bullet struck him in the leg.
Decker regained his feet, tucking his empty gun into his belt. The apron had been discarded. He bent over and retrieved Gilberto’s gun and started firing again.
By the time the bandits realized that they were being shot at from above, it was too late. Each man at a hatch had a pistol and a rifle, so they could fire without reloading. Only one man from above was shot, and fell through the hatch to the floor.
It took less than a minute, and then silence fell over the cantina. White smoke curled up and floated near the ceiling, where heads were poking out to see if it was all over.
Decker walked among the fallen bandits. Many of them had been shot, and some of them were simply lying on the floor, bleeding profusely from the mouth.
Decker dropped Gilberto’s gun and took out his own, reloading as he checked the bodies.
“Is it over, señor?” one man asked from the ceiling.
“It’s over,” he said. “You better come down and check your dead.”
“Juanita!” Decker heard Paco call.
He turned and saw the man crawling towards the girl, his hand trying to stem the blood that was leaking from his thigh.
Decker rushed over and turned Juanita over. The bullet seemed to have passed right through her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open and she moaned in pain.
“Easy,” he told her.
“Am I going to die?” she asked.
“No,” he said, brushing her hair out of her eyes, “you are not going to die.”
She saw the blood coming from his shoulder.
“Are you going to die?”
“No, and neither is Paco.”
Paco reached her and took her hand.
“How is Gilberto?”
Decker looked at the bandit, who was just beginning to stir.
“He’s got your tortillas on his head, but he’s not going to die, either.”
“Give me a gun and I will kill him,” she said.
“Now, you just lie still here with Paco.”
Three of the men who had been upstairs came downstairs now.
“Watch him,” he said, pointing to Gilberto, “and collect all the guns from the floor. I don’t want anyone to wake up and start shooting.”
The two men who had come in the front door moved forward to help, and Decker stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“There’s still one more.”
Juanita winced at the pain in her shoulder, but said, “Raquel. She went to the hotel.”
“She must have heard the shooting.”
“I’ll get her. Is there a doctor in this town?”
“Si,” Paco said, “and if he heard the shooting he will be hiding under his desk.”
“Tell me where his office is and I’ll bring him back with me.”
Paco gave him directions and he left, first for the hotel, and then for the doctor.
Chapter Twelve
Raquel Diaz was luxuriating in a hot tub at the hotel, her hand idly rubbing herself between her legs, when she heard the shooting.
Her brother and his filthy men, shooting up the town again. You would think that since he claimed the town for himself he wouldn’t want to damage it, but he was probably drunk already.
She leaned back and ran her hand up over her belly and began to stroke her breasts. It had been a while since she’d had a man. Raquel teased the men she rode with, but she never slept with any of them. That would have cost her some of their respect, and she needed to maintain that. It was alright for Gilberto to eat and drink—and whore—with their men, but Raquel had to keep her distance. She had to get her men elsewhere, and rarely did she ever sleep with one twice. Even if she wanted to, she had either moved on—or killed them.
Decker entered the hotel and asked the clerk where the baths were. The man nervously eyed Decker’s wound and stammered as he replied, giving directions.
“In the b-back, señor,” the man said, “but the lady is t-taking a—”
“I know what the lady is doing.”
Decker walked down to the end of a hall and kicked the door open.
The woman in the tub stood up abruptly, water running off the glorious curves of her body. She reached for her gun, which was hanging on a chair next to the tub.
“Hold it!”
She stopped, bent over at the waist, large breasts dangling. This woman had the most beautiful body Decker had ever seen.
“Gringo?”
“That’s right.”
“Was it you who killed our two men?”
“Yes, but they tried to kill me.”
“There is no need to explain. They were fools. You were a better man, eh?”
“Yes.”
“And the shooting at the saloon?”
“The people of this town decided they didn’t like the idea of your brother claiming it.”
She nodded.
“May I straighten up?”
“Please do.”
Even with the wound in his shoulder hurting, Decker couldn’t help but react to this woman, and she knew it. She could make a dead man stand up and salute.
“May I know your name?”
“Decker.”
“I am Raquel Diaz.”
“A pleasure.”
The ends of her hair were damp and they stuck to her shoulders and breasts. She ran one hand over both breasts, then brought the other one up so she could palm both of them and flick the nipples.
“There is plenty of water in the tub, señor Decker,” she said, “and it would do your wound good.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to get dressed and come with me.”
“Shall I dry off first?”
“If you like.”
She stepped from the tub and he watched while she dried herself with a towel lovingly, taking a long time to do it, performing for him. He watched every move, regretting that at the moment he could do nothing about it, but watching with a certain amount of real pleasure. He had been on the trail for some time now, and seeing a woman, especially one as beautiful as this one, was a treat.
When she was dressed she stood facing him, hands on hips, and said, “My compliments, señor.”
“Why?”
“Any other man would have broken by now.”
“Broken?”
“Men have begged for me, señor.”
“I’m sure many men have broken, señorita, and with good reason.”
“Gracias,” she said, graciously accepting the compliment. “Perhaps another time?”
“I hope so.”
She started to reach for her gun and he said, “Ahah, leave it there.”
She smiled, raised her hands in surrender, and walked towards him. He backed away so she could come
out into the hall, and that close to her he saw that she was almost as tall as he was. The skin of her face was brown, but flawless, without blemish—as was the flesh of her body.
“Tell me, señor. Did the townspeople ask you to help them do away with us?”
“No. I just happened along.”
“Our luck, eh?”
“I guess.”
They walked the rest of the way through the hotel in silence.
“We have to stop for the doctor,” he said when they were on the street.
“My brother?”
“He’s alive,” he assured her. “He’s got a bump on his head, but he’s alive.”
“From his little Juanita?”
“Yes.”
The woman laughed, an honest, hearty laugh that came from deep inside of her. It made chills run through him, and his groin ached.
“It serves him right,” she said when her laughter had subsided. “What of the rest of the men?”
“Most of them are dead, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, don’t apologize,” she said, waving a hand negligently. “I think I was ready to stop being a bandido queen, anyway.”
They stepped down from the boardwalk to the street and Decker started walking back towards the saloon.
“Señor Decker?”
Pointing the other way she said, “The doctor’s office is in this direction.”
He stared at her, then simply said, “Thank you.”
“For nada.”
Walking behind Raquel Diaz all the way to the doctor’s office was an experience in itself. It made Decker wonder if he hadn’t made a mistake in not taking her up on her offer in the bath.
When would there be another like it?
Raquel Diaz was having thoughts along similar lines. She was sorry that Decker had not joined her in the bath. She still needed a man, and Decker certainly attracted her.
She would have liked to sleep with him before killing him.
Chapter Thirteen
Moran had not enjoyed the fight. He could think of better things to watch two women do than fight, even if they were fighting over him.
When the fight had started he decided to pick up his clothes and leave, so he didn’t know what the outcome had been. Rosa had anger on her side, but Carmen had size and weight. He wondered if this meant that he was going to have to choose between the two of them.