Slocum 394 : Slocum and the Fool's Errand (9781101545980) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Teaser chapter

  Wolf Attack

  “Stay back and shoot any of them that come at you,” Slocum said to Jack.

  “I ain’t about to just sit here and let you do the work!”

  “Then do what you please,” Slocum shouted as he rode around to get a better angle on the wolves. “Just stay the hell out of our way!”

  He didn’t ride for long before picking a spot and coming to a halt. Every second that passed without him taking a shot felt like an eternity, and men were paying with their blood. Several Apache yelped in pain while others raised their voices in sharp battle cries. Both of those sounds blended together until it was difficult to figure out which men were in need of help and which were on the offensive. Drawing a long breath, Slocum steeled his nerves so he could push through the chaos and find his shot.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental

  SLOCUM AND THE FOOL’S ERRAND

  A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Jove edition / December 2011

  Copyright © 2011 by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

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  ISBN : 978-1-101-54598-0

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  1

  NEW MEXICO TERRITORY

  Rocas Rojas was a small town situated within spitting distance of the Potrillo Mountains. On nights like this one, locals could stand on their front porch, stare at the eastern horizon, and get a look at a line of ridges marking the border into West Texas. It was a quiet town with one saloon, one hotel, two restaurants, three shops, four whores, and a single lawman. Normally, the banjo player from the Dusty Hill Saloon played loudly enough to be heard up and down Main Street. Tonight his energetic strumming had some competition in the form of gunshots that cracked through the air from the northeast.

  Gwen was one of the town’s whores, and she stood at a second-floor window of the saloon, pulling a shawl around her bare shoulders and wincing as a rifle shot joined the mix. She was tall, slender, and had thick, curly hair, which rustled about her neck in the stirring breeze.

  “Sounds like a real fight out there,” another young woman said as she stepped up to the window to stand beside her. She was shorter than Gwen, with a more rounded figure and long, straight blond hair. Her cheeks were still flushed from tending to her most recent customer, and she smelled of the cheap rosewater that was used to clean away the smell of cowboys who would rather pay for her company than a bath.

  Gwen barely glanced over her shoulder before replying, “It just started. You think it’s those outlaws the posse was chasing?”

  The blond girl listened for a few moments and nodded. “I hope so. Hate to think we’ve got more than one bunch of gunmen riding around so close to town. Sounds like they’re getting closer.”

  Closing her eyes allowed Gwen to focus on what her ears were telling her. It didn’t take long before she picked up on the sound of thundering hooves. “You think it’s safe out here?”

  “’Course it’s safe,” the blonde chuckled. “Honestly, sometimes you’re such a worrier.”

  From the hallway leading into Gwen’s room, a man’s voice bellowed, “You in there, Caroline?”

  The blond girl rolled her eyes and pursed her lips together as if to make sure she didn’t accidentally make a sound to give away her position. Unfortunately, standing in front of an open window in an otherwise darkened room wasn’t the best way to remain hidden. Gwen couldn’t help laughing as Caroline’s lips moved in a silent plea and she drew her arms tightly around her as if she could somehow soak into
the wall like drops of much-needed rain.

  Footsteps from the hallway stomped toward the room and stopped so the man’s bulky frame could eclipse the light coming in from the rest of the saloon. “That you, Caroline?” he asked.

  When the blonde held her tongue, Gwen said, “It’s her, Dale.”

  Caroline’s eyelids snapped up and her mouth gaped open in response to the off-handed betrayal.

  “He would’a found you sooner or later,” Gwen said with an easy smile.

  Dale filled up the doorway with a build that was mostly lard spilling over his belt. Squat legs were balanced upon feet that could have fit into boots made for a large child. “That kid you just finished with wants another go-round.”

  “It’s only been ten minutes,” Caroline whined.

  “I know that! So get your backside into that room before he gets enough steam to make you work for yer money.”

  She thought that over and shrugged. “Guess he has a point.”

  Gwen started to smile back at her, but was cut short when another volley of gunfire rolled in from the surrounding desert.

  “You gonna be all right?” the blonde asked.

  “Caroline!” Dale snapped.

  She wheeled around and hissed, “Just tell that boy I’m on my way and that he should be ready for me. With any luck, he’ll be about finished before I poke my nose into that room.”

  Dale conceded the point with a shrug and stomped his little feet back down the hall.

  “You all right?” Caroline asked.

  Nodding, Gwen looked outside and rubbed her arms to guard against the night’s chill. “I just worry about them, is all. Those men the sheriff is after are supposed to be killers.”

  “Those men are from Texas, and Texas men are mostly just full of a whole lot of big talk.”

  “Not all of them,” Gwen pointed out. “Some bad sorts come from Texas.”

  “But they don’t come runnin’ to Rocas Rojas.” Patting Gwen on the shoulder, Caroline said, “I got some work to do. That boy in the other room is sweet, but he’s quicker than a jackrabbit. It won’t be long before I can check on you again.”

  “If you like, tell him I might come in to join the two of you,” Gwen said. “That should make him even quicker.”

  “Say that a bit louder so he can hear you through the wall and I may not have to even show my face before he’s done for the night. Don’t keep that window open too long. It’s getting cold.” Caroline turned her back to the window and headed for the door. “And don’t stand there if that posse gets any closer. Don’t want you getting hit by a stray bullet.”

  “Caroline!” Dale shouted from the hall.

  Like an actress putting on a role moments before stepping onstage, the blonde applied her working persona as easily as if she were slipping into a costume. Everything from the lilt of her head to the sway in her hips became sultrier and more pronounced. Her voice was even different as she said, “Keep your pants on, Dale! As for you,” she added when she got closer to the door to the room where her customer waited, “get those pants off and be quick about it.”

  Gwen smirked as the slam of Caroline’s door was followed by the scuffling of feet and a very excited voice. No doubt, the blonde wouldn’t have to do much to push that young cowboy over the edge. Since everyone in the saloon seemed to be in good hands, Gwen leaned against the window and stared outside. The hooves were drawing closer and the gunshots had eased up for the moment. If not for the shouting in the distance, she might have thought that was a good thing. Although she couldn’t tell what was being said, the fact that she could hear harsh voices at all from this distance told her the men in the desert weren’t swapping recipes.

  When the next gunshot came, she jumped. Not only was it a sharp cracking sound in the midst of an otherwise calm night, but it was fired from much closer than she’d anticipated. The voices that followed were closer as well.

  “Here they come!” a man shouted from the corner just a few storefronts away from the saloon. “Looks like Mark found ’em all right!”

  “I ain’t deaf, you damn fool,” another man snarled. “Anyone with ears can tell he didn’t just stumble on some coyotes out there.”

  The squabbling pair stood on the corner of Main and Second Streets. Gwen only needed to hear their voices to recognize them as two of the men who liked to call themselves deputies even though they weren’t officially on any payroll. Stan owned part of the dry goods store, and Oscar rented horses out of a livery on the other side of town. Both liked to strut about wearing their guns as if they were real lawmen. Gwen couldn’t help scowling down at the two bumbling shapes as they hopped anxiously while the real posse chased armed fugitives at the risk of their own lives.

  “They’re headed this way!” Oscar said. “Here they come. Here they come!”

  “Shut yer damn mouth or they’ll know we’re—”

  Two horses rounded the corner as if they’d been dropped from thin air. Between the rumble of hooves in the distance, the usual commotion inside the saloon, and the two morons arguing outside, Gwen hadn’t heard the approach of the two closest animals until they were barreling down Main Street. She couldn’t see much since Stan was also the one in charge of lighting the lanterns along Main and had obviously been too preoccupied by jumping out of the street like a frog with a firecracker stuffed up its ass to fulfill that duty. The men on those horses kept their bodies hunkered down low over their animals’ necks, gripping their reins tightly. Gwen took half a step away from the window until she was fairly certain she couldn’t be seen from the street below. The entire saloon held its breath. Once the riders had rushed past, the banjo player commenced with his song, the rowdies downstairs commenced shouting, and the kid in the next room got the bed knocking against the wall.

  “They’re headed for my store!” Stan wailed as he fired a wild shot at the riders.

  A few seconds later, the knocking against the wall stopped and the door to that room was opened.

  After making her way into Gwen’s room, Caroline said, “I got high hopes for that boy. Held out for longer than I thought this time around. What’s Stan going on about down there?”

  Before Gwen could answer, the rest of the hooves that had been approaching town finally reached their destination. The two would-be deputies didn’t have any time to squawk before being forced against the nearest building. Three men on horseback bolted from the darkness, followed by another pair that was hot on their heels and firing at their backs. When she pulled in a breath and leaned forward to get a better look, Gwen was almost shoved out the window by the overanxious blonde.

  “Is that Mark and that other fella?” Caroline asked.

  “Looks that way. I better go check.”

  Gwen rushed from her room with Caroline following her. As the two women hurried down the stairs leading to the main floor, they created almost as much commotion as the horses that had just blazed a trail down Main Street. Dale stood at his post behind the bar, still out of breath from his trip down those same steps a few minutes ago. “Git yer asses back up them stairs, for Christ’s sake!” he groused.

  Gwen and Caroline ignored him, which wasn’t anything new to the fat man. Rather than spend the effort it would take to go after them, he waved an exasperated hand at the women and dove back into the conversation he’d been having with one of the saloon’s regular customers.

  As soon as she’d shoved through the front doors, Gwen looked up Main Street to find the cloud of dust that had been kicked up by all those horses. It swirled in the cool night air as the rumbling hoofbeats rolled through town like a storm.

  “You ladies shouldn’t be out here,” Oscar said as he stepped up to the saloon. “Dangerous sorts are about.” He was a heavyset man, but had a build closer to an old stove as opposed to the large pumpkin shape of the fellow behind the Dusty Hill’s bar.

  Stan stood across the street, reluctant to leave the shadow that wrapped nicely around his spindly scarecrow frame.

&nb
sp; “I saw five of them plus the posse,” Gwen said. “Is that the entire gang?”

  “We heard tell there was six or seven of ’em riding hard out of Texas,” Oscar replied, taking a tone he saved for when he wanted to sound like an official lawman instead of a glorified errand boy. “Looks like the sheriff and that other fella dropped two of ’em outside of town.”

  Gwen let out a relieved breath, which was immediately drawn back in again when Oscar tacked something on to his statement.

  “Either that,” he said, “or them other killers are circling around town to meet up with the rest. Could be an ambush.”

  “Ambush?” Stan shouted from across the street. “Did you say ambush?”

  “Could be.”

  “What?”

  “I said could be an ambush!” Oscar hollered. Waving toward the saloon, he said, “You ladies go on inside, and I’ll stop by to let you know any news I get regarding that posse.” Since he figured his job was done, he ambled across the street to resume his pointless conversation with Stan.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Gwen muttered as she ran to the corner where the dust had yet to settle.

  Knowing that neither of the two men would even take notice, Caroline hurried to catch up. Both women had rounded the corner and were once again in sight of the horses before the blonde got close enough to say anything without having to shout at her friend’s back. Breathing hard enough to form a cloud of steam in front of her, she asked, “What do you intend on doing out here, Gwendolyn?”

  Much like a child hearing her whole name spoken by an angry parent, Gwen stopped short and focused on the source of the sternly worded question. “I have to see if he’s all right.”

  “The only thing you’d be doing right now is getting in the way.”