24
It was past noon. Maudie could tell by where the sun was in the sky. She was hungry. She had started the day with no breakfast and no coffee even. She thought that she was well enough ahead of any pursuit to allow herself the leisure of a quick camp and a meal. She stopped in a little valley and gave the horse some water. She still had plenty. Then she built up a small fire and put the coffee on to boil. She took out some of her trail food and started to prepare a meal. In a few minutes, while the food was still cooking, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down to drink it. It surely did taste good. At times like this, she told herself, a person was grateful for simple pleasures.
She thought about her situation, and she wondered what had happened back in Guadalupe. If Giddings had been successful, he would soon meet up with her in El Paso. They would have to figure out how to deal with the paperwork without Baker, but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Everything would work out after all, just the way she had planned it. She would have all the money she needed. At least for a while. She still had a pretty good ride ahead of her. Well, she’d be done here soon and get back on the trail. She would make that trip in good time. She wondered just what she would tell Giddings when he asked her about Baker. She might just tell him the truth. It didn’t matter much. She stiffened all of a sudden when she heard a noise behind her, the sound of footsteps. She started to turn her head for a look.
“Just sit still, Maudie,” came a voice. She recognized it as Slocum’s. God damn, she thought. She relaxed a bit and took a sip of her coffee.
“Slocum?” she said. “That you?”
“It’s me.”
Slowly, she turned her head to see him walking down the hillside, coming toward her. He had his Colt in his hand, and it was pointed at her back.
“Welcome, honey. Where’s your horse?” she asked.
“I left him up on the rise,” he said, “along with the other one.”
“Other one?”
“The one that poor son of a bitch Baker was riding. I found Baker, by the way. His skull was bashed in. Did you do that, Maudie?”
“No,” she said. “I didn’t, and I’m sorry to hear about it. We decided to split up last night.”
“Yeah?” He didn’t believe her, but he decided not to pursue the subject.
“What are you doing out here?” she said.
Slocum had by this time walked around to stand facing Maudie. She still sat, still sipped her coffee. She seemed very calm, almost too calm.
“Didn’t you know I’d come after you?”
“For what?”
“Don’t play games with me, Maudie. We know you hired Giddings and them other two men. We know you paid to have all those men killed and them two fires started. We know all about the railroad. The game’s up, ole gal. You’re headed for jail, or a hanging.”
Maudie shivered, but she got control of herself quickly.
“Well, why don’t you sit down and have a cup of coffee?” she said. “The food will be ready in just a minute, too. No sense in riding off and leaving it, is there?”
She reached out to stir some beans. Slocum watched her carefully. He still did not know exactly what had happened to Baker, but he sure did not believe what Maudie had said. Maudie could be dangerous, and he knew it. He stepped in closer to the fire and sat down across from her.
“You can put that gun away,” she said. “You can see I’m not armed. Even if I was, I wouldn’t have a chance against a gunfighter like you. I guess you killed Giddings.”
“I sure did.”
Maudie gave a shrug. “He was my last chance, I guess. I was sure counting on that man.”
“I bet you were,” said Slocum.
Slocum holstered his Colt and reached for the cup of coffee she had poured for him. He sipped it, and it tasted good. He thought that this was likely to be the last of Maudie’s coffee he would drink. He caught himself wondering what the other eating place in Guadalupe was like. Maudie began to spoon out the food onto two plates, and she handed one to Slocum.
“Well,” he said, “thank you.”
“My pleasure,” she said. “Nothing like a last meal between old friends.”
“It’s good,” he said, “but I’m not surprised about that. I always knew you could cook.”
“I can do other things, too,” she said, giving him a knowing look and a smile.
“Yeah,” he said. “You sure can.”
“Slocum,” she said, between bites, “you don’t have to take me back to Guadalupe. You could go away with me. I have a little money, and—”
“You have some of Baker’s money, too, don’t you?” he said, interrupting her.
“Yeah. I took it,” she said. I didn’t figure he’d be needing it. What do you say? You’re no real lawman. You and I both know that.”
“You tried to have me killed, Maudie,” he said. “Twice.”
“The situation was different then,” she said coolly. “I didn’t have any choice.”
“You’ve always got a choice.”
“What about now?”
“You already made your choice,” he said. “You don’t get a second chance.”
They finished eating and Maudie cleaned up the dishes as before, with sand. Slocum helped her pack things up, and he put out the fire.
“Let’s go,” he said. “We got a long ride ahead of us.”
She walked up close to him and put her arms around his shoulders, pressing her body up against his. It felt good. Slocum put his arms around her and squeezed her tight.
“Let’s do take a long ride together. Away from Guadalupe. We could be good together,” she said. “Remember?”
“I remember,” he said, “and you sure are tempting, but I couldn’t live with it. You’ve done too much.” He pushed her away. “Get on your horse,” he said.
“All right,” she said with a shrug. “You had your chance. It’s like you told me. You always have a choice. You just made the wrong one.”
“We’ll see about that.”
She walked over to her horse’s side and prepared to mount up. Slocum took the horse’s reins. As Slocum turned his back to lead the horse up the hillside, Maudie slipped a hand into the saddlebags and came out with her Webley. She climbed into the saddle. Slocum started to walk up the hillside toward where he had left his Appaloosa and the other horse. Maudie slowly lifted the Webley to point it between his shoulder blades, and she thumbed back the hammer. Slocum heard the telltale click, and he made a dive. Maudie’s shot tore flesh from his right shoulder. He hit the ground rolling and pulled out his Colt. He fired once, his shot knocking Maudie out of the saddle. He got up quickly and ran to her side. The Webley had fallen free. He knelt by her, and she opened her eyes to look at him.
“You had your chance,” she said.
“Maudie,” he said, “that was no chance at all.”
Her eyes closed, and she was dead. Slocum stood up and took off his hat. He looked at the body of the beautiful woman lying there at his feet, and he looked up and away, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. What a waste, he thought. What a goddamn sorry waste. He picked up the once beautiful body and slung it across the saddle. Then he started walking up the hill. He would get his Appaloosa and the other horse and head back for Guadalupe. Along the way, he would stop and load up what was left of Baker. He figured that Holbrook would want something other than his word that he had stopped the two. Damn it, but this was a distasteful job.
When Slocum at last rode back into Guadalupe, he stopped first in front of Riley’s undertaking establishment. Riley came out in a minute and looked at the two horses with the two bodies across them. One was a woman. The other one, a fat man, was already a little rank. Slocum thought that he could see money in the man’s eyes.
“Who you got there?” Riley asked.
“You’ll recognize them,” said Slocum.
“Send the bill to the sheriff’s office?” Riley asked.
“Yeah,” said Slocum. “Like usual. Take the horses back to the stable when you’re done with them. Will you?”
“Sure thing,” Riley said.
He rode on, glad to be riding away from that scene. He was sick of dropping off corpses for Riley to plant. He took his Appaloosa to the stable. The big horse had earned some good oats and a rest. He left it there with the man, telling him also about his two horses that would shortly be returned to him, and then he walked to the sheriff’s office. He found the door unlocked, as usual, and went inside, but the place was deserted. He walked back outside and stood on the sidewalk for a moment, wondering where to look for Holbrook. He caught himself thinking for a second that he could walk over to Maudie’s and check there. Old habits die hard. It was late enough. He might find the sheriff at the Hogback. He walked on over there and went inside. There were few customers in the place. He did not see Holbrook. He bellied up to the bar and ordered a drink of whiskey. Amos brought it to him, and he paid for it. Then he picked up the glass and drank it down fast. He ordered a second and paid for that. This time he sipped at the brew. It was good. It burned its way down to his stomach. He had needed it.
“Amos,” he said.
“Another one?” Amos asked.
“No,” Slocum said. “Do you know where Cy is at?”
“Why, I thought everyone knew that,” said Amos.
“Well, I don’t know,” Slocum said. “If I did I wouldn’t have asked you. I been out of town. Will you tell me where the hell I can find him?”
“Well, sure,” said Amos. “He’s down at the church. At least, as far as I know they’re still down there.”
Slocum downed the rest of his drink. “Thanks,” he said, and he suppressed an urge to ask Amos what the hell Cy was doing at the church and who the hell “they” were. He turned to walk out of the place. He felt disgusted with the whole world. Outside, he stood for a moment looking down toward the church. There were a few horses and a buggy out in front of the place. He took a deep breath and started walking toward them. He almost wished he had kept the Appaloosa a little longer. The church was at the far end of town. He had never before had occasion to go that way. A church. What the hell was Holbrook doing down there? He passed a couple of cowhands on the way and greeted them in passing, but his greetings were none too friendly. When he reached the church, he mounted the stairs. He paused for a moment, feeling a little strange. Opening the door, he stopped, astonished. There was a goddamned wedding in progress. No mistake about that. He was looking at the backs of everyone, so it took him a moment to realize that the two folks being hitched up together were Cy Holbrook and Josie Yates.
“I’ll be god damned,” he said, fortunately in a very low voice. No one heard him. He walked in and shut the door behind himself very quietly. Then he sat down in the back pew, taking his hat off. He sat quietly while the wedding vows were being read by the preacher. Slowly but surely all the pain and the ugliness of the past weeks left him. The wedding was the beginning of a new life for Cy and Josie. The air suddenly felt fresher and cleaner than it had for a long time.
