Slocum and the Border War by Jake Logan

Author:Jake Logan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group

“Fresh-squeezed juice of the orange, Slocum,” Maria said, and he opened his eyes.

She sat beside him, smiling and holding a tray.

“Breakfast in bed?” he said. “What did I do to deserve this?”

She laughed a little. “You know very well, my big, handsome hombre. Come. Scootch up a little.”

He moved back on the sheets until he was half sitting, and she placed the bed tray across his lap. It was a feast fit for a king! Eggs, probably five or six, scrambled with peppers and onions and cheese; a huge, fried ham steak, still sizzling; three thick slices of Texas-style toast with a pot of cactus jelly and another of extra butter; a big mug of coffee, and a tall glass of orange juice.

“My cousin, she sends me two crates every year. From California,” she said proudly.

Hoping she meant the oranges, Slocum picked up the glass and took a long drink. He smacked his lips. “Say! That’s good!” He took another drink. “This is livin’ the life of luxury!”

Maria smiled and backed away. “I am bringing this to keep you distracted, you know. Come down when you are finished. Carlito and Juan, they are already here, and I expect Jorgé at any minute.”

“Well, feed ’em a good, big breakfast, honey. I hope they’re gonna need it.”

She paused and turned, her hand on the door’s latch. “If your wire comes in today, you mean.”

“Yeah,” he said, between bites of egg and ham. “Baby, you are one good cook and a half.”

She winked at him and was gone.

He focused on the food, but he couldn’t help wondering why the hell they were downstairs so early! The freight wagon wasn’t supposed to pull in until eleven. He supposed he’d need to talk to the fellow at the livery, see about renting one of his buckboards to haul all that wire out to the place they’d left the posts.

He’d need to drop into the mercantile or the hardware, too, if Jaguar Hole had such a thing. They’d need tools with which to put up the wire, and seeing as how Valdez had supplied the muscle and the axes and saws, he thought that his side—meaning MacCorkendale—ought to supply the rest of the stuff they needed.

He sure wished MacCorkendale would send a man or two, though. It would be a help.

He ran out of orange juice before he was ready but managed to wash down the rest of his meal with coffee.

He really supposed he ought to have a little talk with Samantha, too, although he wasn’t sure just how to fit it in. Just because she was loco, that didn’t give him any call to be rude to her.

And rude was what he suspected she thought he was.

Breakfast finished, he took a long and satisfying piss out the rear window, then dressed for the day. He wondered just how it would go today with Juan and Carlito.

There shouldn’t have been any “ito” on the end of Carlito’s name. There was nothing diminutive about him, and

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