“It is our pleasure to serve you, senor, always.”
“Are Carmen and Rosa still in town?”
“But of course. They would not leave San Louisa knowing that you would soon return. Which of them would you like to come to you first?”
Moran brought the two women’s pictures into his mind. Carmen was a tall woman, big-breasted and long- legged, with long dark hair—if it was still long.
Rosa was also dark-haired, but she was smaller and slighter than Carmen, and had breasts like ripe peaches.
“Who can choose?” Moran said.
“I understand, senor,” Luis said wisely. “I will send them both.”
As Moran went back to his room—which was on the first floor of the adobe hotel and always kept ready for him—Hernandez went back into his office, opened his hand and gleefully counted the money.
When the gentle knock came at his door Moran knew that it was the two women he had requested. He answered with his gun in his hand anyway, for even in San Louisa it didn’t hurt to be too careful.
“Senor Red,” Carmen said when he opened the door, “how wonderful to see you again.”
She came in and pressed herself up against him. He was bare-chested and he could feel her breasts through the thin blouse she was wearing as she mashed them against him. Already, her nipples were hard. She snaked a hand around his neck and kissed him openmouthed, then moved past him revealing Rosa standing in the hallway. He knew Carmen was already undressing behind him, but now his attention was on Rosa.
“Ah, senor Red,” she said.
She was a neat little bundle, Rosa was. She came in and also pressed herself against him. Her breasts were small but very firm, and didn’t mash as flat against him as Carmen’s had. She also reached a hand behind his neck, but she had to pull him down to her level to kiss him, whereas Carmen was almost as tall as he was. Rosa’s hot mouth devoured him, and then she too moved past him and began to undress.
He closed the door slowly, his gun still hidden behind his back, and by the time he turned around they were both delightfully naked.
He drank in the sight of them eagerly. Carmen’s breasts were large and round, with brown nipples, sagging just slightly, but from their own weight and not due to age. After all, she was probably under twenty-five. Between her legs her pubic hair looked like a dark, tangled forest. Her thighs and legs were long and solid, and he marvelled at what a big girl she really was.
Rosa’s breasts were small, like two delicious mouthfuls, the nipples a delicate pink. Her pubic hair was wispy, almost nonexistant, and barely hid her womanhood from view. She was like a doll, but Moran knew that she was much stronger than her size indicated. He’d learned that from spending time between her thighs.
“We hope you are not too tired after your long journey” Carmen said. Rosa nodded her head in agreement.
“No, ladies,” he said, discreetly laying the gun on the dresser top, “in fact, after seeing the two of you, I’m not tired at all.”
After both Carmen and Rosa had pleasantly exhausted him, Red Moran gave them both too much money and shooed them away.
“I need my rest, ladies.”
“You are much man, senor Red,” Carmen said.
Both women went out into the hall and huddled together and counted their money.
Inside the room, reclining on the bed, Red Moran smiled. Two energetic, eager, sweet-tasting Mex women in one bed was almost too much for a man to expect.
But not too much for Red Moran to expect.
Not in this town.
These people really loved him.
This was the way to live.
Chapter Four
Decker felt them before he either saw or heard them.
He knew he was being watched.
He rode with his head facing forward, for he knew that when it suited them they would approach him.
He was checking the most widely travelled routes from the Rio Grande further into Mexico. Of course, the river could have been crossed in many places, but there were certain areas that were the easiest and best, and he was trying these first. If Red Moran had chosen some other point of entry, it would make picking up his trail that much more difficult.
Still, the hunt was the best part for Decker. It used to be the money, but Decker saved his money, unlike a lot of other bounty hunters he knew who spent it as fast as they earned it, and then had to hit the trail again.
Decker hunted maybe four or five times a year, because he thought nothing of spending two months on a man’s trail.
He knew that Eddie Gorman, for instance, tracked at least twenty men a year, bringing in more than half of them. If he didn’t have a definite trail after a week or two, Eddie just gave it up and went after other prey.
Joel Lansdale, on the other hand, spent eight months tracking Jeffrey Banks before he finally cornered him in Nacogdoches, Texas.
Decker was neither as impatient as Gorman nor as dedicated—or stubborn—as Lansdale.
They were both good men, though, there was no doubting that.
Now Decker could feel somebody’s presence off to his right, and he allowed his eyes to flick off that way. Two men were riding towards him at a leisurely pace, as if they just happened to be crossing trails with him.
“Hey amigo!” one of them called.
Decker reined in and waited, angling his horse so that he wouldn’t have to fire across his body if it came to gunplay. Eventually, the two men reached him and stopped. It was unfortunate that, at the moment, they were staying close together.
A few miles further west, Gilberto and Raquel Diaz were leading a band of bandits at a slow crawl in an easterly direction.
“I think you sent the wrong two men ahead as scouts, brother,” Raquel said for what seemed like the fourth time in the last five minutes.
Gilberto Diaz was thirty-six, a hawk-faced man who considered himself, at five nine, too short. He had huge shoulders and arms, and felt that he had to make up in strength and ferocity what he lacked in height.
Raquel Diaz was also five nine, but of course this was tall for a woman. She was full-breasted, with wild, untamed, dark hair that fell past her shoulders. Every man in the band lusted after her, and every man was too frightened of Gilberto to ever do anything about it. Raquel constantly teased them about it, showing off her body whenever possible.
“Raquel, I have told you that all of the men must do the the same jobs at one time or another. They take turns. It was simply Miguel and Santo’s turn.”
Raquel looked at her brother and said, “I still don’t think you should have sent them together. Between them, they haven’t the brain of a rattlesnake. If they see a likely victim, they’ll strike without looking.”
“So?” Gilberto said. “They are Diaz men, are they not? They should be worth any four normal men.”
“Gilberto,” she said, shaking her head, “you not only flatter them, you flatter yourself.”
“Well, you can never be accused of that, can you, sister? Sometimes I think you wish you were leading these men yourself. You could do a better job that I, eh?”
