Iron Eyes, no. 1 (6 page)

The beautiful
hacienda
was vast, with a wide, over-hanging roof of red
tiles. It stood away from the surrounding prairie yet seemed to
match the area. It had that Latin look which made it appear to have
always been there amongst the trees and cactus.

As the wagon
rolled through the archway into the elegant courtyard a distant
rumble of thunder seemed to echo a warning to the dark rider Iron
Eyes. He kept looking at Jane as she effortlessly guided her team
of proud oxen toward the walled stables.

The expression
on the cigar-smoking Jane suddenly altered as her eyes saw the
beautiful surroundings and absorbed every single feature of this
place. It was a typical Mexican set-up. It was as if they had
stumbled into a complete township in miniature, and Jane’s eyes
bulged trying to take everything in. She had never before seen
flowers like the ones that grew on climbing vines around the
courtyard.

The smell of
cultured roses filled the air, and almost blocked out the aroma of
horses and cattle.

This was indeed
an oasis in an otherwise desolate place. They had been led ten
miles from the rolling river to this place, and both Iron Eyes and
his female companion were anxious. Neither were used to meeting
people with good intentions and felt they had entered a possible
trap.

The weathered
bounty-hunter was quick to toss his long right leg over the
saddle-horn before sliding down the saddle on to the dusty ground.
His eyes were narrow and flashed around the many riders who
surrounded him.

These were
vaqueros
. He had never before met any
of them, and felt uneasy at their ability to talk without his
ability to understand.

It was as if
they all were dressed for church to the man who had seldom bothered
to wash himself or his clothing. These men were, on the whole,
immaculate. That worried him.

There were women around the
hacienda
courtyard, although they
stayed mainly in the shadows, as if they required permission to
step into the sun.

As Iron Eyes
paced toward the wagon he could not believe the sight of so many
silver objects attached to so many saddles. It was like looking
into a treasure chest. Why on earth would these folks waste silver
simply to decorate saddles?

They were a rum
bunch and he did not like rum bunches.

Jane sat on her
wooden plank, still gripping the Winchester rifle on her lap. Still
keeping her finger upon the trigger as she too studied the
scene.

Then they heard
the music.

Both Jane and
Iron Eyes were shocked that guitars could be played outside a music
hall. Yet they were. The small group of men were strumming their
various sized guitars and singing up on an elevated porch.

‘
What the hell have we ridden into, Iron Eyes?’

Jane spat at
the ground as she watched the men dismounting.

‘
Beats me,’ he shrugged.

‘
I heard of circuses but never thought I’d see one.’ She gave a
subtle laugh at their hosts’ expense.

Iron Eyes
continued to look about the courtyard and still could not feel easy
with their situation. ‘What you reckon is going on?’

‘
I figure we are in trouble, big trouble.’ She sniffed at the
men who made her feel rather less than feminine.

Iron Eyes
reached up a long, thin arm and took her hand as she climbed slowly
down with her trusty rifle in her hand. As she reached the ground
she resumed her grip upon the weapon.

Dwan José
Valdez dismounted and made his way toward the pair of curious
Americans.

‘
You are still not trusting me?’ he asked, taking off his wide
sombrero and giving it to a servant.

‘
This don’t make no sense, Valdez.’ Jane chewed on her words as
he came to a stop before them.

Her eyes took
him in. From his polished boots to his oiled hair. ‘This is some
kinda trick.’

Valdez gave a
sigh. ‘This is no trick, dear lady.’

‘
What do you want to invite us here for?’ Iron Eyes’ voice was
low, and almost inaudible.

‘
You were on my land. You are my guests,’ the Mexican
smiled.

‘
It don’t figure,’ she told the man.

Valdez gave a respectful look at her rifle. ‘My men used to
shoot anyone who strayed on to my
rancho
, but I tell them it is not
civilized.’

‘
True.’ Iron Eyes watched as the majority of the
vaqueros
disappeared into
various buildings around the courtyard. Soon there were only a
handful left. All elegant. All standing behind Valdez.

The fingers of
Dwan José clicked, and from nowhere a female servant appeared at
his side.

The man spoke
to the girl, and then turned to Jane and translated.

‘
I tell her to take you to my best guest room where you can
bathe and refresh yourself before our evening meal.’

Jane glanced at Iron Eyes, who was still watching the
vaqueros
over the
Mexican’s shoulder. He cast his eyes down upon her for an instant,
before returning his attention to the men before him.

‘
What you reckon, Iron Eyes?’ You could cut Jane’s suspicions
with a knife.

‘
Go get yourself pampered,’ he advised, as he saw an entire
steer being prepared for placing upon a giant roasting spit near a
large wall.

Without
hesitation she followed the servant along to the tiled steps that
led to the elevation and arched porch. With every step Jane took
she looked at a different face, as if searching for the one who was
going to kill her.

‘
Your woman will feel wonderful after Bonita fixes her a bath,’
Valdez said with a cheery smile.

‘
She ain’t my woman,’ Iron Eyes said, almost
regretfully.

‘
No?’ The older man tilted his head. ‘I think that you are
mistaken, my tall
amigo
.’

‘
What ya mean?’ Iron Eyes concentrated upon the man before
him.

‘
l see the way she looks at you and the way you look at
her.’

‘
So?’

‘
I forget you are not Mexican,’ Valdez shrugged. ‘We see things
that you gringos seem to miss.’

Iron Eyes bit
his lip. ‘How long are we your guests?’

‘
Why are you so concerned, my tall friend?’

‘
It comes natural.’

Iron Eyes
allowed himself to be led in the same direction that Jane had taken
a few minutes earlier. He knew that every eye was upon him, and
wondered how many rifle sights had him dead to rights as he
ascended the tiled steps.

He found
himself in a large, cool, rooftop room with a massive bed and a
simple crucifix upon a bare white wall. The shorter Mexican clapped
his hands, and two servants brought in a large tin bath whilst
others followed with jugs of steaming water and towels.’

Iron Eyes stood
speechless as he watched the men quickly preparing his bath. The
trouble was, he did not like baths or bathing or water for that
matter.

The perfume
that they added seemed to lather up as they continued to arrive
with more and yet more jugs of steaming hot water.

Valdez pointed
to the bed, where a black suit of clothes were laid complete with
frilly white shirt and red scarf. ‘For you to wear whilst your
clothes are washed and dried by my servants,’ Valdez beamed.

Iron Eyes
gritted his teeth. ‘I don’t like baths.’

‘
But think about the lady.’ Valdez gestured with his
arms.

‘
What?’ Iron Eyes was confused.

‘
She bathes for you.’

‘
So?’ Iron Eyes tried to seem uninterested in what Jane was
doing, but failed to convince his host.

‘
Then would not a gentleman do likewise?’

Iron Eyes
rubbed his neck and became suddenly aware of the filth on it. ‘I
ain’t exactly what you could call a gentleman, Valdez.’

‘
But you must not disappoint her.’

‘
Guess not,’ Iron Eyes found himself muttering.

The tall man,
who was thinner than most of his deceased victims, started to
disrobe slowly Very slowly. The servants vanished, leaving only the
bounty-hunter and his host in the room. The long coat was dropped
to the floor, sending a cloud of trail-dust rising. Then he took
his Navy Colts out of his belt and placed them beside the
clothes.

Dwan José
grinned at the pain his guest was suffering just removing the
garments which were almost like a second skin to him.

‘
That water better not be hot,’ Iron Eyes growled. ‘I ain’t
partial to hot water.’

‘
After you bathe, it will be you who will be hot,’ Valdez said
as he left the veranda door. ‘Hot for the lady.’

Iron Eyes felt
very uneasy Yet the Latin might just be right about the effect a
good wash might have on Jane. Cautiously, he dipped his toe into
the tub. It was a sensation that was truly alien to the tall man.
But hell, he had started, so he figured he might as well
continue.

The Rio Grande
was no longer swollen as the two riders reached its bank. Tom Hardy
dropped from his horse and held on to the reins as he tried to make
out the tracks. The sun had set thirty minutes earlier, and it was
getting darker with every passing second.

‘
We better camp here for the night, Whit,’ the elder Hardy
brother shouted at his sibling, over the noise of the river as it
continued its never-ending flow.

Whit crawled
down from his saddle and flopped on to the sandy ground.

‘
Get some kindling for a fire,’ Tom ranted, as he tied up his
horse to a tree-branch.

‘
What for?’ Whit drawled.

‘
For a fire so we don’t freeze to death,’ Tom said, as he then
tied up his brother’s horse. He started to untie the horse’s
belly-straps before dragging off the saddle.

‘
I hurt.’ Whit rubbed his inner thighs with his rough
hands.

‘
So do I,’ Tom shouted, as he started upon the second saddle
with tired hands.

‘
Not as bad as me.’

Tom Hardy took
great delight in kicking his brother until the man got back on to
his feet and started to gather firewood from the sand around
them.

Soon they had
enough, and the fire was set.

Soon they had a
roaring blaze to sit before, with their stinking horse blankets
wrapped around their shoulders.

The two men
watched the bacon frying in their pan. The smell was good.

A coffee-pot
was hung over the flames that surrounded the cast-iron pan.

Neither man had
eaten all day Now they were tired from riding and drinking. The
stars above their heads were brighter than usual, and they could
feel the frost gripping the edge of their blankets as they waited
for their food to cook.

‘
Reckon that varmint crossed here, Tom?’ drawled Whit, as his
mouth drooled.

‘
Couldn’t make out his tracks.’ Tom rattled the pan and added
more wood. ‘Too damn dark when we got here. But I got a feeling in
my guts that he wouldn’t have managed to cross that
river.’

‘
Why not?’

‘
Well, if he had tried to cross that I figure he done got
himself drowned.’ Tom hoped that was the case.

‘
I ain’t gonna cross this river here, Tom,’ Whit shrugged as
the sound of the rolling waves filled his ears.

‘
Why not, boy?’

Whit rubbed his
nose upon his sleeve. ‘You know I can’t swim.’

‘
All you gotta do is hang on to the saddle-horn,
Whit.’

‘
What if the horse drowns?’

‘
Good point,’ Tom Hardy grinned. ‘That tequila must be doing
your brain good.’

‘
Reckon?’

‘
Yep. You are usually a lot dumber than this.’

Whit Hardy
swigged at his bottle and accepted a large slice of red-hot bacon
on his tin plate. Both men ate and drank their fill.

Tom Hardy drank
coffee whilst his young brother finished off his third bottle. Now
Tom knew he would have to hand over his three tequila bottles to
the youth. It always worked that way.

As the snoring
filled his ears, Tom Hardy lay on the soft ground thinking about
Iron Eyes. The thoughts kept him awake for a long time.

The
hacienda
was illuminated by a vast array of bright lanterns that seemed
to fill every possible corner and cranny The music was now even
more emotive, and filled the perfumed air of the
courtyard.

Dancing seemed
to be what these Mexicans enjoyed best, and it was all totally
different to anything that the pair of gringos had ever experienced
before.

The meal had
been little less than a feast, and the wine had flowed like water.
It was as if there was an endless supply of everything on this
ranch.

The roasted steer was still being turned by the small group of
cooks over the fire. A quarter had already been eaten by the people
of the
hacienda
.

It had even
tempted the bounty-hunter with its aroma and taste.

The laughter
and joy that this place seemed to represent was strange compared to
the simple, hard lives both Iron Eyes and Jane had previously
experienced.

She had been
washed and dressed by the female servants in a beautiful dress of
thin, frilly layers. She had had her long hair washed and dressed
until she looked almost to have Mexican blood herself Even the red
flower behind her ear seemed to be totally suitable for her.

All Jane lacked was the smile that seemed to ooze from every
other female face on the
rancho
.

Jane looked the
part though. She looked like a woman for the first time in a very
long time.

Although she
would never admit it to either herself or anyone else, it made her
feel good. Yet even as she walked in her flowing, light dress
across the cool, tiled floor in her bare feet, she felt uneasy and
still wondered why they had been brought here.

What could
their motives be, to grab a pair of dusty strangers off a riverbank
and bring them to your home? To treat them as if they were honoured
guests? Charity was something neither she nor the tall, grim
bounty-hunter knew anything about, so this was the one factor that
eluded their suspicious minds.

The sight of Iron Eyes with his black suit and white shirt
made her gasp when she first saw him entering the dining-room. Now,
as they walked along in the moonlight in the sheltered courtyard of
the beautiful
hacienda,
she was almost used to the strange
sight.

His hair was
clean and combed back off his face, showing the scars that smallpox
had made during his tormented childhood. Yet he was clean and that
seemed odd. Not only to Jane but to himself. The smell of stale
sweat tends to become part of one’s persona when it remains long
enough, now the smell had been replaced by the aroma of perfumed
water. Iron Eyes was understandably very nervous. His nostrils did
not recognize his own body.

It was as if he
were naked. He had washed away his identity Now he tried to remain
above what was happening in this place. It had to be some sort of
trap. Nobody could convince the tall, gaunt man to alter his mind.
The only thing that he was grateful to Valdez about was the beef
meal. It lay on his stomach better than all the chilli and hard
tack he had consumed over the past weeks of trailing Dan Hardy.

She had left
her Winchester in the room whilst Iron Eyes had stuffed his Navy
Colts into his belt sash. He trusted nobody in this strange place,
and felt like shooting someone to see what might happen.

How he had
managed to resist shooting anyone was a mystery to himself The
water of the bath must have softened his brains as well as his
skin, he assumed.

Iron Eyes
leaned on the whitewashed wall that looked over the landscaped
gardens and courtyard. He knew that this was a trap in his guts.
Even filled with well-cooked beef and delicious wine, his natural
instincts would not allow him to drop his guard for even a
second.

Jane seemed to
be enjoying being pampered, but the bounty-hunter knew that you got
nothing for nothing in this life. At least, he had never
experienced anything to make him alter his mind.

The scene was
tranquil and peaceful, but this did not sit easily in Iron Eyes’
mind. His hands were never far from his guns as he tried to appear
relaxed.

In truth he was
ready to draw and start shooting if anything provoked him. Anything
at all.

Pausing to
witness the festivities, the two studied each other in the light of
the countless lanterns.

‘
You ain’t bad-looking,’ Jane said.

‘
Thanks,’ Iron Eyes nodded.

Jane waited for
a long time for him to return the compliment, but that was
something that did not enter his head.

‘
Do I look OK?’ she hinted.

His grey eyes
briefly glanced at her before returning to the scene around and
below them.

‘
You smell good.’

She decided
that was as good as it would get.

Compliments
were not his strength. He kept touching the handles of his guns
with his thumbs as the music filled their ears.

‘
They seem so happy, Iron Eyes,’ Jane sighed. ‘I guess I am
feeling a lot better than I did when I shot that hole out of your
ear.’

Iron Eyes
touched the scab thoughtfully ‘If you had been a man you’d be dead
now, Jane.’

She gave him a
smile that seemed almost feminine. ‘This seems a real happy
place.’

Ain’t natural,’
he snapped.

‘
Not at all natural,’ she agreed.

‘
You trust this Dwan José Valdez varmint?’ he eventually
asked.

‘
Guess so,’ Jane answered, after giving the situation a lot of
thought. She had never been treated like this. She felt almost
regal with her full stomach.

‘
Wish I could.’ Iron Eyes shook his head slowly as he absorbed
anything and everything. ‘But I just can’t.’