Decker entered the hotel and asked the clerk where the baths were. The man nervously eyed Decker’s wound and stammered as he replied, giving directions.
“In the b-back, señor,” the man said, “but the lady is t-taking a—”
“I know what the lady is doing.”
Decker walked down to the end of a hall and kicked the door open.
The woman in the tub stood up abruptly, water running off the glorious curves of her body. She reached for her gun, which was hanging on a chair next to the tub.
“Hold it!”
She stopped, bent over at the waist, large breasts dangling. This woman had the most beautiful body Decker had ever seen.
“Gringo?”
“That’s right.”
“Was it you who killed our two men?”
“Yes, but they tried to kill me.”
“There is no need to explain. They were fools. You were a better man, eh?”
“Yes.”
“And the shooting at the saloon?”
“The people of this town decided they didn’t like the idea of your brother claiming it.”
She nodded.
“May I straighten up?”
“Please do.”
Even with the wound in his shoulder hurting, Decker couldn’t help but react to this woman, and she knew it. She could make a dead man stand up and salute.
“May I know your name?”
“Decker.”
“I am Raquel Diaz.”
“A pleasure.”
The ends of her hair were damp and they stuck to her shoulders and breasts. She ran one hand over both breasts, then brought the other one up so she could palm both of them and flick the nipples.
“There is plenty of water in the tub, señor Decker,” she said, “and it would do your wound good.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to get dressed and come with me.”
“Shall I dry off first?”
“If you like.”
She stepped from the tub and he watched while she dried herself with a towel lovingly, taking a long time to do it, performing for him. He watched every move, regretting that at the moment he could do nothing about it, but watching with a certain amount of real pleasure. He had been on the trail for some time now, and seeing a woman, especially one as beautiful as this one, was a treat.
When she was dressed she stood facing him, hands on hips, and said, “My compliments, señor.”
“Why?”
“Any other man would have broken by now.”
“Broken?”
“Men have begged for me, señor.”
“I’m sure many men have broken, señorita, and with good reason.”
“Gracias,” she said, graciously accepting the compliment. “Perhaps another time?”
“I hope so.”
She started to reach for her gun and he said, “Ahah, leave it there.”
She smiled, raised her hands in surrender, and walked towards him. He backed away so she could come out into the hall, and that close to her he saw that she was almost as tall as he was. The skin of her face was brown, but flawless, without blemish—as was the flesh of her body.
“Tell me, señor. Did the townspeople ask you to help them do away with us?”
“No. I just happened along.”
“Our luck, eh?”
“I guess.”
They walked the rest of the way through the hotel in silence.
“We have to stop for the doctor,” he said when they were on the street.
“My brother?”
“He’s alive,” he assured her. “He’s got a bump on his head, but he’s alive.”
“From his little Juanita?”
“Yes.”
The woman laughed, an honest, hearty laugh that came from deep inside of her. It made chills run through him, and his groin ached.
“It serves him right,” she said when her laughter had subsided. “What of the rest of the men?”
“Most of them are dead, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, don’t apologize,” she said, waving a hand negligently. “I think I was ready to stop being a bandido queen, anyway.”
They stepped down from the boardwalk to the street and Decker started walking back towards the saloon.
“Señor Decker?”
Pointing the other way she said, “The doctor’s office is in this direction.”
He stared at her, then simply said, “Thank you.”
“For nada.”
Walking behind Raquel Diaz all the way to the doctor’s office was an experience in itself. It made Decker wonder if he hadn’t made a mistake in not taking her up on her offer in the bath.
When would there be another like it?
Raquel Diaz was having thoughts along similar lines. She was sorry that Decker had not joined her in the bath. She still needed a man, and Decker certainly attracted her.
She would have liked to sleep with him before killing him.
Chapter Thirteen
Moran had not enjoyed the fight. He could think of better things to watch two women do than fight, even if they were fighting over him.
When the fight had started he decided to pick up his clothes and leave, so he didn’t know what the outcome had been. Rosa had anger on her side, but Carmen had size and weight. He wondered if this meant that he was going to have to choose between the two of them.
Maybe there was a new girl in town, but if there were she’d have to really be special to take his interest away from Carmen and Rosa.
Moran walked around the town, checking to see if it had changed since he’d been gone. He was glad to see that it hadn’t. There was no sign of progress, anyway.
Progress meant more people, and if more people started coming into San Louisa, he’d have to stop coming here.
“Señor Moran!”
He turned and saw the mayor, Eduardo Felipe, walking towards him. The mayor was a bandy-legged little man with a pencil-thin mustache who bowed and smiled a lot. He remained mayor because no one else wanted the position.
“Hello, Mayor.”
“Señor, I have a huge favor to ask of you.”
“What’s that, Mayor?”
“You have come to San Louisa at just the right time, señor Moran.”
“Why is that?”
“We have had a problem here in the past few weeks, and I know you will be able to help us. You are obviously a very capable man, señor.”
“Mayor,” Moran said, “could you get to the point, please?”
“The point? Ah yes, the point. Ah, we here in San Louisa find ourselves in dire need of a sheriff.”
“A sheriff?” Moran repeated, wanting to be sure that he had heard correctly.
“Si, señor. A sheriff—ah, the man with the star…on his chest? Am I not saying it correctly?”
“And you want me—” Moran said, laughing now.
“Si, señor,” the mayor said, puffing his chest out. “As mayor of San Louisa I ask if you would accept an appointment as sheriff…”
“Señor…?”
“Why are you laughing, señor…?”
“Did I say something funny?”
Moran couldn’t answer. This was so funny, so ironic, that as soon as he could answer—as soon as he could stop laughing—he was going to accept.
Sheriff Red Moran, of San Louisa, Mexico.
Chapter Fourteen
The doctor pronounced twenty-three of the bandidos dead, and three so badly injured they probably would not last the night. There were the three from the livery who were thrown in jail, and Gilberto, who was patched up and tossed in jail with them. Raquel was given the second cell in the two-cell jailhouse.
“If you want me, señor” she told Decker seductively as he put her in her cell, “just come and get me.”