The Alamosa Trail

Chapter 16

Hector Ortega was having a drink when someone came into the cantina with news that seven gringos had just ridden into the village of Durango. The number was significant to Ortega, because he had left Texas with seven gringos. But three had been killed back in Escalon. So how could there still be seven?

“How many gringos did you say there were?” Ortega asked.

“Seven. Four men and three women.”

Four men, Ortega thought. That number was right. If three of them had been killed at Escalon, then there would be four remaining. But who were the women? Where had they come from?

Ortega recalled, then, that he had heard something about a group of Americans capturing three women, a mother and two daughters. And even though he knew that Jim Robison and the others weren’t guilty of that, the village of Escalon had thought them to be, thus bringing on the gunfight.

Ortega poured a glass of tequila for the man who had brought the information. “Senor, the three women. Tell me about them.”

The man with the information held up his glass. “Gracias,” he said. Before answering, he drank his drink; then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “What do you wish to know?”

“Is one old and the others young?”

The man with the information grabbed his crotch. “The old one is not too old, and the young ones are not too young,” he said with a leering grin.

The others laughed.

“It is the mother and daughters,” Ortega said, almost to himself. “How is it that they are with my vaqueros?”

“Your vaqueros, senor? But they are gringos. How can they be your vaqueros?”

“Gringos, yes,” Ortega said. “But they are my vaqueros, because I am their chief,” he said with haughty bluster. “Perhaps I had better go see these men and learn why they have three women with them.”

Jim and the men were watering the horses while Katie and her daughters had gone into a store to buy some much needed supplies. Barry was the one who first saw Ortega coming toward them, picking his way gingerly through the horse droppings in the plaza.

“Well, now, lookie here,” Barry said. “If it isn’t our long-lost pard.”

“That son of a bitch ain’t no pard of mine,” Frank insisted.

“Mine, either,” Gene said.

“Take it easy, boys,” Jim said. “He has to be our pard for a little while longer. At least until we get the horses back to Clay Allison.”

“All right, if you say so, Jim. I reckon I’ll go along with it for now,” Frank said. “But once we get them horses delivered, me and the senor there, is goin’ to have us a little set-to.”

Ortega pasted a big smile on his face as he approached the men. “I have been waiting for you,” he said. “Where have you been? We have work to do.”

“Where have we been?” Jim replied. “We waited in Escalon for you, just as you said. Why didn’t you come back?”

“Oh, I did come back,” Ortega said. “But when I returned, I learned that there had been a big fight between you and the poor people of the village. You are not very popular in my country now, senors. I am told that you killed many of my people.”

“As far as I’m concerned, we didn’t kill enough of them,” Frank said. “They started shootin’ at us for no reason.”

“They believed they had a reason,” Ortega said. “They believed you to be the men who captured three white women.” Looking up, he saw Katie, Marilou, and Brenda coming back from the store, carrying several packages. “These women, perhaps?” he added. He smiled again, bowed slightly, and touched the brim of his sombrero. “Buenas días, senora and senoritas.”

“Who is this?” Katie asked.

“This is Hector Ortega,” Jim said. “He is the hombre I told you about, the fella who knows where the horses are.” Jim looked pointedly, at Ortega. “You do know where the horses are, don’t you?”

“Sí, senor,” Ortega answered.

“Well, if you don’t mind, lead us to them and let’s get started back. I don’t mean no offense to your country and all, but I do believe I’ve had just about as much of Mexico as I can stomach.”

“You got that right,” Gene said.

“Yeah, I’d like to get started back today,” Frank added.

Ortega shook his head. “I don’t think you can get started back today. I think, maybe, it will take one week.”

“One week? Why so long?” Jim asked.

“The horses,” Ortega said. “Senor Allison will want the horses broken before we take them to him, I think.”

“The horses aren’t broken? You mean you’ve brought us all the way down here to round up a bunch of wild horses?” Jim asked, angrily.

“You will not have to gather the horses,” Ortega said. “The horses have already been caught and are in a corral. But Senor Allison wants them broken before we deliver them.”

“Nobody said anything about breaking horses,” Gene said.

“I think maybe if you knew you would not come,” Ortega replied.

“You’re damn right we wouldn’t have come,” Gene added.

“Look here, Oretega. Are you telling us that Allison knew about this? And he expects us to break five hundred horses?” Barry asked.

“Sí, this is true, I think.”

“What do you think, Jim?” Frank asked.

“I don’t know,” Jim replied. “Before we lost Tennessee, Chad, and Ken, maybe we could’ve done it. But being as we’re three men short, I just don’t know.”

“I know some men,” Ortega said. “They will work for not very much money. They will help break the horses.”

“So what are we going to do, Jim?”

Jim sighed and stroked his chin. “I don’t see that we have much choice in the matter,” he said. “We’ve been through a lot to get here. Damn if I’m going to go back home without them horses.” He looked at Ortega. “Where are they?”

“They are very near,” Ortega answered.

“All right, take us to them. Then get me three, no, make it five men who are good with horses.”

“Sí, senor.”

Frank laughed loudly at the sight of Barry rolling in the dirt after having been thrown. “That was about the funniest thing I ever seen,” he said, still chuckling.

“Maybe you ought to try and ride that one, Frank,” Gene suggested.

“If I do, you can bet I’ll do a lot better job than Barry just did.”

“How much better?”

“I’ll stay on him.”

“Think so?” Gene asked.

“Five dollars says I will. Bring him over here,” Frank said. “I’ll ride him without bein’ throwed even once.”

“That’s a pretty high order you’ve set for yourself,” Gene said.

“Ain’t settin’ it no higher’n I can do,” Frank insisted. “You won’t see me rollin’ in the dirt like our friend here.” He nodded toward Barry, who was using the crown of his Stetson to brush off the seat of his pants.

“Maybe I’ll just take you up on that little bet,” Gene said.

The place where the boys were working the horses was about five miles south of Durango. They had set up camp there, and for two days they and the five Mexican riders Ortega found had been breaking horses.

Begrudgingly, Jim had to admit that the Mexican riders were quite good because they were halfway through breaking the entire herd. Much further along than he would have ever believed possible.

Katie and her two daughters had set up their own camp right alongside the boys, making themselves useful by cooking the meals and by separating the horses that were broken and those that weren’t.

Barry looked at Frank, contemplating the wager Gene had just made with him.

“All right, Mr. Smarty Pants, if you are serious about that five-dollar bet you just made with Gene, how ’bout lettin’ me have some of it?”

“You got it. Ricardo!” Frank called to one of the squat, serious-looking vaqueros they had hired. “Bring that cayuse over here!”

With the promise of a little entertainment, the others quit what they were doing and climbed the fence to sit on the top rail so that they could watch. Even Jim was interested in seeing whether or not Frank could make good on his wager. Katie and her two daughters came over to watch as well. They stood on the ground and looked through the rails.

The horse, jerking against the lead and kicking up its back feet, showed its protest at being in harness.

“Bring him over here to the fence,” Frank said. “I need to get a good seat if I’m goin’ to do this.”

“You’ll need more than a good seat,” Gene said. “You’ll need a miracle.”

“Well, for five dollars I reckon I’ll just call one of them up for you,” Frank said, smiling. When the horse was in place, Frank climbed the fence, then swung his leg over the saddle, holding it there for a minute before he actually swung aboard.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Gene teased him.

“Don’t rush me,” Frank replied. “To do somethin’ like this you got to get it just right the first time.”

There was an extended period of silence as everyone waited to see what would happen next. Slowly, the reins were passed up to Frank, while two men continued to hold the horse by its halter.

“Now!” Frank shouted.

The two men let go of the halter, and the horse exploded away from the fence. It jumped straight up, then came down on stiff legs before kicking up its hind quarters.

“Hang on, Frank! Hang on!” Barry called.

Then Frank did a strange thing. He leaned forward and took the horse’s ear between his teeth. He chomped down.

The horse let out a whinny of pain.

When the horse bucked harder, Frank bit harder. When the horse eased up, Frank eased up. It didn’t take the horse long to learn the lesson. The more it bucked, the more severe the pain in his ear. The less he bucked, the less severe. After a matter of only a few seconds, the bucking stopped altogether.

“Hey! That ain’t no fair!” Gene called. “You didn’t say nothin’ ’bout biting!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t say he couldn’t bite the horse’s ear, either,” Jim said, still laughing. “Looks like he beat you pretty good.”

Frank, with a big smile on his face, and with the horse stepping out smartly and well under control, paraded the animal around the corral. The other men laughed and offered their congratulations.

“All right, here’s your money,” Gene said when Frank got down from the now broken horse.

“You are a gracious loser, my friend,” Frank said as he relieved Gene of the money.