Page 31 of Working the Lode

“How is Antonia?”

Joaquin seemed relaxed, his handsome well-boned face underneath the slouch hat open and cordial. “She appears better thanks to the tea. She sat up in bed this morning. When are those oranges arriving?”

Cormack said, “Day after tomorrow. Can we strike out now for the site and make it by sundown?”

“Not by sundown—we’ll leave tomorrow at daybreak. But I just heard tell they’ve taken forty pounds in five days out of this particular mine.”

Zelnora touched the bandit’s bicep. “Joaquin. Aren’t those some of your men?”

Joaquin turned slowly and looked over his shoulder. Three-Fingered Jack and Feliz loitered nearby, Feliz with a lady in black velvet under his arm. Zelnora knew her to be an Italian who sang and accompanied herself on the piano. For his part, Jack pointed his pistol toward a platform where Ethiopian serenaders were about to hand him their daily take.

Joaquin nodded, and Zelnora thought she detected a modicum of disgust as he marched to his men, his serape billowing.

Quartus wandered over, holding out his empty palms. “I lost ten dollars’ worth of gold! I could have sworn I knew where the Queen of Hearts was.”

Zelnora put her arm around him. “It’s all right, dear. Tomorrow, Señor Valenzuela is going to show us where our new mine is.”

Quartus frowned. “Why are they arguing? I’ll bet you ten dollars they’re arguing about that raid.”

“What raid?”

Quartus puffed up with the importance of his information. “Well. I heard them earlier coming out of a grog shop. Those two fellows wanted to go on a raid tonight and murder and rob some people, but Joaquin said no.”

Sure enough, Jack and Feliz were gesturing at Joaquin with revulsion as they stormed away, and Joaquin made an obscene hand motion as they exchanged farewells in Spanish. The only words Zelnora could make out were bastardo and idiota. Perhaps that was their affectionate manner of saying goodbye to one another. Joaquin marched back over.

“Why buenos tardes, hermano,” Quartus said tremulously, fairly bowing in his obeisance.

“Trouble?” Cormack asked, indicating with his chin the departing forms of Joaquin’s compañeros.

Joaquin looked down at Cormack’s boots. “No,” he said slowly, and then tossed his head. “They wanted me to come with them on a small…how do you say it? Short journey?”

“Excursion!” Quartus said helpfully.

“Yes, a short excursion. I told them I cannot, as I will be journeying with you tomorrow.” Looking to Zelnora, he continued, “I shall stop by your cabin tonight and give you more information.”

Tipping his slouch hat to them, Joaquin sauntered back down the main street, bystanders and gamblers scattering as they saw him come.

Quartus sighed. “What a romantic life he must lead.”

Cormack frowned down at him. “Quartus. ‘Romantic’ is hardly the word. Come, let’s set our sights on some chickens for dinner.”

And the trio struck off in the opposite direction.

“Daring and adventurous?”

“Ah, all right. I’ll give you that.”

“Courageous and bold? Ooo, ooo, look at that toreador!”