Incident at Pima MesaChapter 14
- 3 years ago
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It was near sundown when they rode into Vasquez's camp, she in the wagon, he on horseback. There were fifteen or twenty men milling about, along with about a third as many women. A huge pot suspended over a roaring fire contained a stew which was quickly rising to a boil.
Three of the women greeted them as they dismounted. The women were actually only in their late twenties, but any observer would have guessed between forty and fifty. There were smiles on their faces, but each had that look indicative of a hard and demanding life. Miranda did not have to guess what those demands were. They crowded around Vasquez and his arms went wide to embrace them all.
"This is Rosita, Corrina and Conchita," smiled Vasquez.
"And you Senorita?" asked Rosita.
"I am Miranda, his woman!" Miranda said triumphantly. " But who are these women?" she asked, turning to Vasquez.
"Oh, we are his women too," said Corrina, smiling.
"But, I am his woman now," said Miranda.
"Si, you and Rosita and Corrina and I," smiled Conchita.
"You don't understand," insisted Miranda, "I am his ONLY woman now!"
"No, Miranda, it is you who does not understand," stated Vasquez.
Feelings of uncertainty, feelings she had not experienced for some time began to creep into Miranda's consciousness.
"But," she insisted, "you said I would be your woman."
"And so you are," answered Vasquez, "along with these other lovely ladies!"
The three Mexican women tittered.
Realization striking home, Miranda gave him first a hurt, then defiant look.
"Then they can have you!"
As she turned to climb back aboard the wagon, a strong hand clutched her arm, freezing her motionless.
"I'm afraid it is not as simple as that."
"Why not?" she asked, fighting vainly to break free of Vasquez's grip.
"Because you have seen our camp. You know where it is."
"I won't tell, I promise."
She heard herself pleading, hating herself for it.
He laughed.
"If there is one thing I have learned about you Senorita, it is that you are not to be trusted."
Desperation was beginning to creep into her voice though she was still trying to remain defiant.
"I'll run away. You can't keep me here!"
"Think not?" said Vasquez motioning to one of the other men.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, fear now rising steadily.
"Just a little insurance," replied Vasquez.
The other man reappeared with a rope.
"Please, don't do this. I'll be good. I won't try to escape."
"Eventually I am sure that will be the case, but until then we will have to take our own precautions."
"But... but I WANT to be your woman, I really do!" she heard herself pleading.
"Of course you do. And you are my woman, Miranda, for as long as I see fit."
Seeing the fear in her eyes, he smiled broadly.
"I take care of my women, eh ladies?"
They tittered once again.
"As a matter of fact, you are about to see what a generous man I am!"
"Raoul," he said to one of the men standing nearby, "go and fetch Carlos and Sanchez."
"What are you going to do?" asked Miranda, all semblance of self confidence gone.
"I told you I am a generous man. I share my good fortune with my compatriots. I share my food, my money and... my women!"
"No, please, no!" she begged.
Two burley men came walking up to Vasquez along with the man sent to find them.
"These are my good friends, Miranda. They are about to become your good friends too. Your VERY good friends!"
She looked at them in near revulsion. The man who had run the errand looked thin and emaciated, but the other two were grossly fat and ugly. What teeth were left were badly discolored. The smell told her neither had had a bath in months. Dirt was caked on neck and clothes. Their breath was foul and Sanchez still had food hanging from his moustache.
Miranda turned to Vasquez suddenly, as if finally, once again, capable of rational thought, aware of his betrayal and fearful of Tom's reaction to her not-so-unwilling participation. "You're a vile and disgusting man!" she said, spitting out the words. Retrieving his gun, he stood, putting on his pants. Vasquez looked first to the woman and then to her husband. "That's not what you were saying only moments ago Senora. You are an apt pupil. You learn fast and well. She will make you a...
Miranda struggled to get her semi-conscious husband to his feet and into the wagon. She stemmed the tide of bleeding with a tablecloth from their belongings, jumped onto the seat and, whipping the horses unmercifully, headed for town as fast as the work team and old wagon could bear. Despite the makeshift wheel repair which she expected to let loose at any time, they rolled into the outskirts of town in a little over forty minutes. She asked a young girl for directions to the doctor's...
"Mrs. Willis?" Miranda looked up to see Dr. Welty standing in the doorway. "Your husband is going to be fine. I got the bullet out. Actually, he's a very lucky man. Another inch or two and the bullet would have cut through an artery. He probably would have bled to death before you could get him here." "May I see him now?" Miranda asked anxiously. "Of course," said the doctor, motioning her in. "He's still pretty groggy and he needs rest, but you can talk with him for a few...
"Mrs. Graves?" The woman who answered the door was tiny, standing less than five feet tall. Her clothes were plain and although she wore no makeup, her features were pleasant. She was trim with green eyes and dark auburn hair which she wore long. She was younger than Miranda had imagined, not more than three or four years older than Miranda herself. Given a little attention, thought Miranda, she could be quite attractive. The reverend's wife smiled self consciously. "You must be Mrs....
In late afternoon of the next day, Miranda told Ellen she would love some company and asked if Ellen would come to her room after supper, Ellen was still shaken and embarrassed after last night and wasn't sure she could face Miranda even though she thought she had slipped away unseen when Miranda had come to the door. However, lacking any logical excuse and feeling a strange sense of excitement, she agreed to stop by as soon as she got Elijah to bed. Miranda answered the timid...
Miranda awoke and immediately looked to the floor. Ellen lay curled up asleep, thumb in mouth, two fingers of her other hand in her nest. As Miranda stirred slightly, the minister's wife also awoke. "Come here," commanded Miranda. Ellen obeyed silently. "Did you do last night as I told you?" inquired Miranda threateningly. "I... I..." Miranda grabbed the labial ring, pulling it down painfully and forcing Ellen closer. "Better tell me the truth! You know my demons are...
"Then we have a deal?" "Let me get this straight," said Bart Manning, the saloon owner who also ran the brothel upstairs, "you have your own girl - working out of Pastor Graves upstairs bedroom of all places - and you're willing to cut me in for half if I supply you with customers?" "Right," said Miranda assuredly. They sat at a back table in the saloon. "Why should I send you customers when I can get ninety percent of the take here? Because you said yourself you sometimes...
Within only a few days, Miranda's business was thriving. The first night, Ellen had "entertained" only four customers, but the word soon spread and now from sundown until the early morning hours, Ellen virtually never left the bed, as an endless parade of cowboys, vagrants, and, not a few, "respectable" businessmen partook of her pleasures. Even Ellen's cousin with whom she had gown up, had paid his money for a tumble with what was being billed as the tightest little piece in...
Tom was finally up and about, arm in a sling. He was still avoiding Miranda, his anger paling, but not yet to the point where he wished to confront her. The doctor had suggested a short walk and so he headed down the street, pausing in front of the saloon. He wasn't much of a drinker, however the piano music, which came wafting from inside, was good and he felt he needed something to brighten his spirits. Looking around briefly as he entered, he saw the usual assortment of card games and...
"Come in," said Manning, responding to the timid knock at his office door. "Well, look who's here. And what can I do for you little lady?" "I... I need a job. No one else in town will even speak to me, I have nowhere else to go." "Word on the street is, you're broke and pregnant," he said, eying the woman who had pleasured him several times since that initial evening. "I'll do ANYTHING!" Ellen sobbed, "just please don't turn me away. I slept in the livery stable last night....
"Come in," said Randy Barrett. Tom opened the door. He still could not believe he was here. "She left me," was all he could manage. Barrett offered him a seat and Tom eased himself onto the sofa, exhausted. "What you need is a good drink," said the rancher, moving to a small bar at one end of the room. "She ran off with Vasquez." "Vasquez? Why the little whore... oops, sorry." "It's all right. That's exactly what she is and I've been a fool to think she was anything...
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