Slocum's Breakout - Jake Logan [58]
“Conchita is in town for some reason.” His mind raced. “I’ve got to trail her so I can find José.”
“She is—”
“This will keep Procipio safe.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
“He volunteered to act as bait to get the San Quentin gates open and some of the guards outside. As an escaped prisoner, Wilkinson wants to grab him again. This is how we were going to get inside.”
“Procipio would sacrifice himself in such a way?”
“For Atencio, he would. That’s got to be a mighty special gent for so many of you to risk your lives to save his.”
“Very special,” Maria said softly. A catch made her next words unintelligible.
“You get all this,” Slocum said, pulling a list with the items he needed scratched on it.
“I have so little money. How?”
“That’s up to you, but if you don’t get everything back to the village for Murrieta to get packed, we won’t be able to get Atencio free.”
“I will do this for you.” Maria clutched the scrap of paper so hard she crumpled it. As she started away, Slocum caught her arm and swung her around.
For a moment they stared into each other’s eyes. Then he kissed her.
“Get going,” he said. “I’ll see you in the village when I can.”
Maria looked impish and grabbed him, giving him another kiss, one laced with promise. Then she laughed and rushed away toward the general store across the street. Slocum licked his lips and savored again the taste of the woman. Then he slipped into an alley and went toward the back of the buildings facing the street. He had guessed right. Conchita Valenzuela had tethered her horse behind the photographic studio.
She hurried from the rear door, looked around, then stepped up into the saddle. Without a seeming care in the world, Conchita rode away, heading to the road leading north out of town. Slocum took a deep breath, then fetched his own horse. He patted the stolen animal on the neck, then vaulted up and snapped the reins, trotting after Conchita. Coming to Miramar had been dangerous but was the only place Slocum had a chance of finding either Conchita or her brother.
And he needed her brother in a bad way. Real quick.
Conchita made no effort to hide her trail or avoid others on the road. She waved brightly to other travelers along the road, but Slocum hung back when she stopped greeting them and became more fixed on hunting for landmarks along the road. He was ready when she cut off the road and rode down into a ravine.
Standing in the stirrups, he got a sense where the ravine headed and galloped along to find a spot where the banks might have caved in so he could take this low road. Instead he found where Conchita left. She urged her horse up the far bank, then took a steep, gravelly incline and disappeared into low hills covered with soft grasses and low bushes.
Slocum pulled down the brim of his hat to keep the sun from distracting him as he carefully studied the entire hillside, especially the ridge running away. Anyone watching Conchita’s back trail would outline himself against the blue sky. Seeing no one, he worked his way down into the ravine and up the other side, following the woman’s tracks easily.
For an hour he tracked her, avoiding being seen. He often stopped to study the valley where she rode, watchful for her brother. The old man wasn’t likely to be posted as lookout with his bad eyes, but Slocum worried about José.
He needn’t have. At the far end of the peaceful valley with lush tufts of grass everywhere that tempted his horse, he saw a thin curl of smoke making its way into the afternoon sky. He had found the Valenzuelas’ new campsite.
Cutting into the woods, he approached until his nostrils flared with the pungent scent of wood smoke. He wasn’t too far off. Kicking his leg over the saddle, he dropped to the ground, considered taking his rifle, then decided his Colt was adequate for what needed to be done. As stealthily as any Apache, he came within a few feet of the dilapidated cabin that must have once belonged to a shepherd who’d tended his flock.