Slocum's Breakout - Jake Logan [30]
Slocum ducked his head low as he entered Murrieta’s house. The smell of brewing coffee made his nostrils flare. His belly rumbled loudly enough for Murrieta to hear.
“Sit. We eat simply but well.” He dropped a china plate in front of Slocum and ladled out beans. A tortilla was added. Slocum had already wolfed down a mouthful when Murrieta put a cup of coffee near his hand.
“How is it you came to this part of California?” Murrieta asked.
Between mouthfuls, Slocum recounted his travels up from the drought-stricken South. He was feeling more human by the minute. When he’d polished off a second plate of beans and two more tortillas, he was feeling downright sociable.
Movement behind him, though, sent Slocum reaching for his six-shooter. He hesitated when he saw a woman silhouetted in the doorway, the morning sun shining through her dark hair and completely erasing her face. But there was no disguising the curves and the lithe way she moved.
“Lo siento,” she said. “I did not mean to startle you.”
“I don’t usually sit with my back to the door,” Slocum said. “Getting careless.”
She spoke in rapid Spanish to Murrieta. Slocum followed some of it but not much. There was trouble of some kind between two of the villagers.
“I must go make peace. Maria will keep you company.” With that, Murrieta left, pushing past the woman.
For a moment, Maria hesitated, then came in and stood by the table.
“Is there anything more I can give you? It looks as if Procipio has fed you well.”
“Not his cooking,” Slocum said. “Yours?”
“Oh, no, not mine.” Maria looked away and actually blushed.
“But you wish you could cook for him?”
Her fiery eyes fixed on Slocum. This time there was no shyness.
“He is not for me. He is not for any in the village, though he claims there is someone down south. Procipio hints at a family.”
“So he doesn’t fool around with any of the women in this town?”
“Never!”
Maria pulled up a chair and sat next to Slocum. Their knees brushed. She did not pull away, and he damned himself when he didn’t draw back. She was beautiful, but he ought to have had his fill of beautiful women after Conchita. Something about Maria’s forthright, open manner appealed to him. But he had never questioned Conchita’s honesty either, until he had broken José out of San Quentin and returned to their house. Then it had been too late to do anything about her lying ways.
“You want to ask me something,” Slocum said. “Murrieta did, too, but he never got around to it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You don’t live here—”
“No!”
“And you just happened to bring news of two men fighting that Murrieta had to referee. I think there was more to it. You wanted to come to find out if he had asked me something.”
“Everything Procipio has said about you is true,” she said. “He said you were very smart.” She looked down at his Colt. “And that you were a gunfighter.”
“Not much of either these days,” Slocum said. “You’re not wanting to hire me as a gunman, are you? I don’t sell my gun.”
“No, no,” she said, shaking her head and causing a halo of raven’s wing dark hair to float about her head. “You went into San Quentin to rescue another, no?”
“That’s true,” Slocum said, wishing it wasn’t. “I’m not doing that again.”
“But there is one inside who does not deserve to be there.”
“Your lover?”
“I have not had a lover in many months.”
“Brother?”
“Un primo, a cousin.”
“He’s in jail?”
“Where Procipio was. Where you were. San Quentin.”
Slocum said nothing as he studied the lines of her face. She had high cheekbones and lips meant to be kissed. He had done that before, and it had landed him in a world of trouble. But Maria was so innocent looking.
“Innocent.”
This unsettled him. It was as if she had read his mind.
“That was what I—”
“Please, you must help Procipio—and me.” Maria moved closer and reached out. Her small hand rested on his. He started to pull away, but she gripped down with surprising strength.
Slocum had been in the same position