Chapter 8
Posted: June 27, 2007 - 11:22:56 pm


My second week in 1877 El Paso, started Tuesday morning with breakfast with Molly Dean. I'd made arrangements for my morning meal at a later hour, so I could sleep in after working so late. I could tell that Molly was not unhappy that I was there to keep her company. Usually she only saw people during the day when she shopped or ran other errands. Molly was most pleasant company, too. She was witty and had a keen sense of humor.

"So, Mister McGuinn, would you be having any visitors this afternoon? I need to know so I can take the paintings down in the room next to yours."

Two could play that teasing game.

"No, Missus Dean, I do not. How could I after seeing you in that dress? I'm afraid your beautiful red hair and shapely figure have ruined me for other women."

Molly actually blushed when I said that, but she came right back at me.

"And how would you be knowing about my hair, Sir, when all you've seen of it is this shapeless bun I wear."

I made my voice serious and looked her straight in the eye.

"I imagine it Molly. I imagine first taking it down and brushing it out. Then I daydream about it spread out in all its flaming copper glory on my pillow."

Molly's eyes became even bigger when I said that. She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out but a squeaky "Oh my."

I set my coffee cup down on the table and stood up. Leaning across the table, I softly moved a wisp of her flaming red hair and tucked it behind her ear. Then I sighed theatrically, spun on my heels and departed for El Toro Cantina, to see about furnishing my office.

Pen's saloon opened at nine in the morning for those who needed a little liquid fortification during the day. Most of his daytime business was locals who liked to slip in for a beer and some bullshit. During the day, a Mexican man named Miguel tended the bar. He and his wife also cleaned up the saloon for the nighttime crowd.

Since Miguel and his wife were the only people in the bar when I arrived, I asked him in Spanish if he knew where I might find some office furniture. Turns out I asked the right person. Miguel looked thoughtful for a second or two before speaking.

"Maybe I do, Señor Ty. I think maybe some of the stores on the other side of the river might have some things like that. They have many such things abandoned by travelers on the Royal Road of the Interior."

The Camino Real, also called the King's Highway, was a sixteen hundred mile road and trail that led from Mexico City to Santa Fe. Travelers from Mexico's Capital, traveled up the Camino Real to reach the Santa Fe Trail that carried them into California.

As had the pioneers who traveled the Oregon Trail in the 1840s and 50s, the Camino Real travelers jettisoned impractical cargo along the way. El Paso del Norte was in a perfect spot to collect some of that loot, as travelers and settlers lightened their wagons to cross the Rio Grande.

It made sense to me, so I collected Melosa, saddled her up and caught the flat-bottomed, rope-guided ferry across the river. I figured that if I couldn't find what I wanted, I could always have some local craftsman make it for me. In addition, I was sure that prices on the Mexican side would probably be cheaper.

It was my first time crossing the river in this era. Juarez back then was a far cry from the bustling, dirty and over crowded city I'd visited many times in my future. I rode down the dusty main street, until I found a store crammed with artifacts discarded on the Camino Real. Inside the store, I found an ornately carved writing desk and two small matching bookcases. The chair that matched the table and bookcases wasn't available, but I found three that were close enough for government work, along with a drop-leaf side table.

I dickered with the shop owner for fifteen minutes, until we reached twenty dollars in gold, a price we could both live with. I gave him five dollars in silver to hold the furniture, and headed back across the river to the Lopezes' house, to see if I could borrow Hector's wagon.

Hector grudgingly agreed to rent me the wagon for the afternoon, only after Anna said she would go along with me. I hitched up Hector's horse to the wagon, tied Melosa to the back, helped Anna up onto the seat and away we went.

Once we were out of sight of the Lopez house, I gave Anna a long appraising glance. She caught my look and reached up to smooth her hair where it was tightly coiled around her head.

"You must excuse the way I look, Señor, I wasn't expecting company."

I gave her my most boyish grin as I openly ogled her.

"Stop fishing for compliments, you know how beautiful I think you are."

I meant that sincerely too. Even in her black widow's weeds, she could pass for a woman fifteen years younger. She tried to look offended at my brazenness, but her sparkling eyes gave her away.

"It is most impertinent to speak that way to an old woman," she said, trying to sound stern.

I grinned again.

"I'll remember that next time I talk to an old woman," I replied.

We chatted amicably after that, on the hour-long trip back across the river. With a little judicious prodding from me, Anna told me about herself and her life. It was a damned good story. I was doing first-hand genealogy for the linage of the me that wouldn't be born for another seventy-five years. Pretty neat trick, huh, sitting here gabbing with the woman who was Tyler Lopez McGuinn's great-great-great great grandmother.

Anna Lopez was born in 1827, on the gigantic rancho of Juan María Ponce de Leon. Ponce de Leon was granted the rancho in 1821, as a reward for his service during Mexico's war of Independence from Spain. Anna's father had been the chief Wine Maker for Ponce de Leon's vineyards. It was an important and respected position, because the vineyards produced some of the best wines in the world.

When she was fifteen, Anna was married off to Fernando Cruz, the son of the foreman of the ranch's vaqueros. Her husband worked with his father tending the cattle herd, and she worked in the hacienda kitchen. She was sixteen when Juanita's mother Ramona was born. She delivered Fernando a son a year later. They lived on the ranch even after The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo of 1848 established the border between the United States and Mexico at the Rio Grande, and Patron Ponce de Leon lost his claim to his ranch. Fernando stayed working as a cowboy for the new Anglo owner of the ranch.

Her daughter married Hector Calis in 1860. Her husband and son were killed on a cattle drive in 1863, when Union Army soldiers attacked them and confiscated the herd. After the death of Fernando, she moved in with her daughter and Hector.

From Anna I learned two of my surnames, Calis and Cruz. In Spanish Catholic naming conventions, the mothers surname always had ascendancy, thus Lopez was carried down to my grandmother. However, it was not unusual for a person of Hispanic descent to know all the surnames in their linage as far back as four generations.

By the time Anna and I arrived at the shop where I bought the furniture, we were best of friends. The shop keeper help me load my purchases, took a Gold Double Eagle in payment, returned my silver dollars and sent us on our way. We were back across the river at Pen's saloon by two in the afternoon. With Miguel's help, I had the wagon quickly unloaded. Anna helped me arrange the office and went with me back to Molly's boarding house to pick up my law books.

Now I want to make it clear right now, that while I thought Anna was an attractive woman and teased her about it, I never had designs of having sex with her. Having said that, I have to confess that, when it came to Lopez women, what I wanted didn't matter in the least. I had absolutely zero resistance to them, and every single one of them seemed to know that.

Anna was subtler than Juanita, but no less effective in seducing me. We were barely in my room, before she unleashed those hypnotic eyes and mesmerizing voice on me. I know it makes me sound weak, but I swear, I didn't have a chance.

Anna's body was, of course, not in the same league with Juanita or Liz, but it was fine nonetheless. Her breast weren't big, but they were surprisingly perky, with large sensitive nipples. She was wider in the hips than either of the other women, and her butt was softer and fleshier. She was what she was, a well preserved mature woman. I wasn't ashamed for a minute for bedding her.

In my bed, her age and experience were most gratifying to me. Unlike Juanita or Liz, Anna needed no instructions, for she was not a novice in the boudoir. She gave as good as she got. She wasn't shy about telling me what she liked, and boy oh boy, was Anna the Elder ever kinky!

Anna told me later that she saw me as her chance to live out all the salacious thoughts she'd ever had. Because of her age, finding someone she connected to sexually was something Anna had never thought would happen. When it did, she decided that she would try everything of which she'd ever dreamed. Undoubtedly, Anna must do a lot of dreaming, because for two hours, we tried damn near everything.

At a little after five, Anna tucked me in bed with a kiss and be-bopped out of my room as fresh as Juanita had been. She told me she'd drive the wagon back home and even drop Melosa off at the stables for me. I was too whipped to even try to talk her out of it, so I just thanked her. I fell asleep thinking that I needed to start working out to build my stamina.

I slept for half an hour and felt refreshed and revived when I woke up. I cleaned myself up, dressed for work and moseyed to the dining room for supper. I was one hungry cowpoke; I figured I must have burned at least a thousand calories during my session with Anna.

I met the other two railroad men at dinner, they, like the pair from yesterday, were older gentlemen. The conductor's job on a train was a highly coveted position, and it took years of working for the railroad to earn one of them. The older gents were nice enough and even the Federal Agent was nicer on this evening. I could tell he was pumping me for information, even though his questions were casual and nonspecific. I decided that he and I would have a private chat soon, to see what his real agenda was.

Molly Dean was dressed nicer this evening and looked very fetching in her cotton frock. I made a point of telling her that after dinner, when I again helped her with the dishes. She blushed and twittered, but I could tell she was pleased that I had noticed. Of course she retaliated by bringing up my afternoon visitor.

"So, Mr. McGuinn, I guess you weren't lying when you said a woman's age is irrelevant to you."

I put on a confused look and raised my eyebrows questioningly, even though I knew what she was hinting at.

"What are you talking about Molly?" I asked.

She blushed but looked at me levelly.

"The woman you took to your room today was an older woman."

"Señora Lopez was helping me bring in furniture for my office today, she loaned me the wagon to move it with. Not that it matters, but she is at least fifteen years older than you."

I really enjoyed it when I left Molly speechless, as her only rejoined was her stock, "Oh my."

We worked in silence for a few more minutes, finishing up the dishes and putting them away. I was about to head out the door for the saloon, when I had a thought.

"Missus Dean, I have furniture now, but my office still does not look as if it's a place someone would want to sit down and conduct business. Do you think you could go over there with me tomorrow after breakfast and give me some ideas on how to decorate it?"

Asking a woman for decorating advice, even in the nineteenth century, is always a good idea. Molly flashed me the biggest smile I'd ever received from her.

"Of course, Mr. McGuinn," she purred, "I'd be happy to help."

After a rather boring and unproductive night at the Bull (I scratched out seven dollars in winnings playing poker), I asked Pen if he wanted to go with me to the Gold Nugget. He said why not, so we strolled into the Nugget right after midnight. I led us directly to Charlie's bar on the dancehall side.

When we arrived, Liz was just finishing a dance with a spiffed up cowboy looking to get lucky. When she saw me, she held up one finger to let me know it would be a minute before she joined me. I nodded my head in understanding. While I was having my little nonverbal conversation with Liz, Pen had his back to me, ordering us a drink from Charlie.

Pen turned around just as Liz walked up. It was almost comical the way they both reacted on their first sight of each other. It was like that Tom and Jerry cartoon where Tom meets that white female Persian cat and his eyeballs turn into hearts. It was the first time I'd ever witnessed someone else falling in love at first sight.

I made the introductions; Pen bowed low over Liz's hand and kissed it. Liz's eyelashes fluttered as he continued holding her hand. I'd seen enough, I said I suddenly remembered something I needed to do, and beat a hasty retreat. I don't think they even noticed I left.

It didn't bother me a whit that Liz seemed taken with Pen so strongly. It was actually kind of a relief. I liked Liz a lot, but I considered us more friends than anything else. As a matter of fact, I had worried that I might be leading her on. She was a great gal, but their wasn't any spark between us.

I walked out into the moonless night and stood on the wooden sidewalk under the Nugget's overhanging roof. I took a deep breath, savoring the pure sweet air. I was about to turn towards my rooming house, when I looked over at Rosa's Cantina. I mentally shrugged and said "why not?"

I expected it to be raucous and loud as I ambled through Rosa's open doorway, but it was surprisingly subdued once I was inside. It was either a slow night, or everyone had partied themselves out earlier, I decided. I spotted Feleena sitting at a table with two other girls and a couple of seriously drunk cowboys. The other women were all over the drovers, no doubt busily separating them from their hard earned money.

Feleena's eyes followed me as I walked to the bar and bought a shot of tequila. She was expertly sizing me up, I reckon, assessing my net worth to the nearest dollar. I took my shot and flipped the woman behind the bar a five dollar half eagle. It wasn't much of a stretch to figure out who the middle-aged matron behind the bar was.

"Buy a drink for your lovely ladies on me, Señora Rosa," I said in English, "and one for yourself."

I was again disguising the fact that I spoke Spanish. Hell, doing that probably saved me from being poisoned last time I tried it.

Rosa made my money disappear, and laid out a row of shot glasses that she filled from the same bottle my drink had come from. She poured the last drink with a flourish and called one of the girls over to distribute them. When that chore was completed, she turned her most professional smile on me and asked if I wanted a dance ticket or some company for the night.

"Perhaps some other night, Señora." I said. "Tonight I only have time for a drink."

She nodded agreeably.

"That is fine, Señor."

I moved down to the far end of the bar so that I was facing the door. I finished my tequila and asked for a beer. Rosa brought me one and waved away my attempt to pay for it. I stood at the bar nursing my beer and paid no attention to anyone other than a casual glance around. As I suspected, that didn't sit well with Feleena, for she was not accustomed to being ignored. She arose from the table and glided sensuously over to stand next to me.

"I saw you at Mass last Sunday, Señor, do you not remember smiling at me?"

Her English was almost perfect, with only the slightest of accents. I acted as if I was trying to remember seeing her, then snapped my fingers.

"Of course, you were with the lady tending bar and two other women. Did you enjoy the sermon? I thought it most excellent, even if I couldn't follow most of it."

Before she could react to that, I stuck out my hand.

"I'm Tyler McGuinn, Esquire, Attorney at Law. I'm sorry I don't have my cards printed up yet."

She extended her dainty gloved hand and took my fingers in hers.

"I am Feleena de la Vargas," she said haughtily.

We were really getting off on the right foot, Feleena and I, both of us lying through our teeth.

"It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Miss de la Vargas. Please don't think me rude, but I must be going. Maybe I'll see you at Mass again on Sunday."

Feleena looked almost startled that I would take my leave after she had deigned to speak to me, but she dropped her hand and nodded curtly.

"Perhaps," she said as I walked around her and departed without a backwards glance.

Now I realize that my encounter with Feleena wasn't a propitious start to a relationship. However, you have to remember that I knew all about la Señorita Feleena Montoya, she was the stuff of legend in the history of El Paso. Even allowing for some exaggeration in her story, the fact is that a number of men died fighting over her, the original owner of my corporal body included.

Make no mistake about it, Feleena was about as beautiful as a woman could be, and I was hugely attracted to her. I also knew in my soul that our fates were intertwined. Those facts didn't mean that I wasn't going to be careful. Uncle Ty had used the direct approach, and was shot out of the saddle and dead on the ground, with only a last kiss for his efforts. You'll have to pardon me if I don't choose to travel that route.

Joe J & Wet Dream-Girl
El Paso 9