Return to Four Corners by Lee Roy Williams

Author:Lee Roy Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Western, Historical Fiction
ISBN: 978-1-60174-088-5
Publisher: Uncial Press

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CHAPTER IX

TURNING EAST AT EL PASO, CIRCA 1867

So the pull from El Paso to Fort Hancock was very fine. Hot days, cool nights, on a good road, the best we'd had since we set out nigh a year ago. That's how it was on to Fort Hancock, which looked like white icing on chocolate cake. It nestled in a bend of the river, nigh an island, it was a real garden spot, cool and covered with acres of trees every direction.

"Finest place I've seen this side of Four Corners," I told Carl.

"Yeah." Carl nodded. "We on the river here. Stage comes up from Mexico and joins the line to El Paso. That's why the fort's here. The army keeps watch, so close to Mexico. It's a busy place, dangerous, too. Fast guns gather up here from everywhere."

"I reckon I'll try to keep out of their way." I grinned. "I'm not mad at nobody."

"Well enough." Carl chuckled. "But is anybody mad at you?"

We rode along a bit, without any word betwixt us; finally Carl spoke again. "We get bedded down, I'll show you the best place in Texas for a steak."

"Sounds like a plan. Hope Rufus don't mind if we pass up his sowbelly."

So we circled up our camp and got squared away for the night. Carl said it wasn't all that far, but we saddled up and rode back to town in style. It's not many a thing that gives a man the exact pleasure he gets when he's astraddle of a saddle.

"What's this place called?" I said. "Been a while since I et a meal in a fine place."

"Sierra Porto." Carl laughed. "Means about the same as El Paso, I think. I never learnt no lingo but my own and some Indian palaver. But I reckon I get by."

We came up to the hitch rail and flung our reins over to help in black suits. Outside, the place was right fancy, mostly adobe with lots of bright color, hanging pots, lots of bamboo patio furniture, and a fountain flowing water nigh high as my head.

"Fine place," I said. "Maybe we ought to eat out here."

"Naw. You haven't seen yet what fine is really like."

Carl told it true. The Sierra Porto was a monstrous place, with a plan to suit everybody's fancy. Swarms of drinkers, gamblers, dancers, and women watchers milled all around us. The cantina was cooled by peons pulling ropes on big up and down fans. Walls were full of mirrors, the ceiling was bright with chandeliers. It was the kind of a place, though, where a man took off his hat, and hat racks stood at every table. Carl hung his hat, so I did, too, but my head felt naked. It was the price you paid, I figured, to eat a steak in high society.

Carl waved his hand toward a beautiful woman with a rosy complexion and red gold hair. She was maybe a well kept forty. She was talking to a handsome man of the same complexion and hair, some gray in the hair, though, and a tad chubby about the middle.

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