West Wandering Wind by Bill Garwood

Author:Bill Garwood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2014-05-11T00:52:27+00:00

XIX

I got up late next morning cursing out Abraham for not waking me earlier. Scrambling from my rumpled bed, I washed and shaved carefully, then dressed in the very best duds I owned. The black velvet trousers and silk shirt I bought up at Los Angeles, were topped off with a gold-embroidered vest set with a swarm of small shining pearl buttons in several different patterns, including that of an eagle, or perhaps a California vulture, in full flight across the back of the garment.

Looking myself over in my washstand mirror, I decided that maybe I wasn’t the caballero to end all such dudes, but I still came pretty close after all!

Strange to remark, I wasn’t one bit edgy, but when I sat down to a late breakfast and heard the old hall clock boom out eleven times, my cup of coffee began to try to hop from my hands. I attempted another sip, then gave it up as poor business.

“Where’s the alcalde?” I asked Abraham, waving off the little Indian and his coffeepot. “And by the way, why didn’t you tell me Señorita Almada had closed the rancho and left the territory?”

“I’m right here.” Josh came into the room, dressed to the nines in his very best alcalde get-up: gold-encrusted jacket, green waist sash and flaming orange pantaloons, with his largest golden ring in his ear.

“Where’d you come from? You look like you’re just in from some fandango, or been selling snake oil.”

“Never you mind about that! And I think somebody’s said to beware of the sort of enterprises that demand new clothes,” snapped Josh, “so it looks as though we’re both mighty stylish for a funeral. I hope to high heaven that it won’t be yours. But you remember what I told you about any actual killing.” He tugged at his goatee, a sure sign he was on the prod. “And what’s this about that hellcat of an Almada gal? She’s gone and cleared off?”

“Yes.” I was short with Josh. I didn’t take kindly to his language. “I’m going out to saddle up. It’s getting on for noon, and I’m not going to be late for that sidewinder of a diamondback!”

Josh followed me out back to the adobe barn, behind the casa, and pitched in with Abraham to help saddle up my mare. “Here, take this.” My brother handed me his personal silver-mounted pocket Colt with pearl handles. I stuck it into my sash, along with Powers’s Navy. The gambler’s pistol was a .36 caliber, while Josh’s was only a .31, but two hands were better than one—and maybe two six-shooters!

When I rode down Mason and turned into Calhoun toward the plaza, my eyes really opened up. The entire plaza and the streets around it were decorated fit for a fiesta! Red and blue banners looped across the streets between buildings, bunting drooped from the trees and a big American flag flapped lazily in the fresh breeze, humming across from the sparkling waters of the bay. The streets were crowded with natives and visitors from out in the country.

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