Trip to Tucson

 

 

 

An HC-FanFic Chain Story

 

Contributing writers: Cathy, Marce, Denise, Ross, Penny, Diane, Kate

 

 

As Buck Cannon reached for the drooping bridle reins, he looked back over his shoulder to where his brother, Big John, stood beside the corral gate.

"Quit your worryin'.  Ain't nothing gunna happen to Victoria's present. Manolito and me'll guard it with our lives . . ." he said.

Then mounting his horse, he shifted his gaze to the Mexican, who was waiting on the seat of the supply wagon and added, "Won't we, Mano?"

Mano just glanced at his brother-in-law and, waving to the bystanders, all who were shouting their requests again and suggesting Mano's health would suffer if he forgot anything at all, he flicked the lines and the wagon slowly moved off, Macadoo trotting behind.

Buck gave a short wave to the others in the yard and turned and drew level with the wagon.

"You got any idea jest what this present is Big John ordered fer Victoria?" he asked Mano as they passed through the ranch gateway and headed towards Tucson.

Mano shook his head, "All I know is that it is coming all the way from New York and is very expensive," he said. "John has been waiting for months for it to arrive."

"He said it was gonna be in a real big box," Holding the reins in one hand, Buck pushed his hat back a little and scratched his head thoughtfully, "Wonder what it can be."

Mano shrugged, not that interested in his sister's present but looking forward to a day in town. "I daresay we will find out soon enough."

The journey to Tucson was uneventful, though long, hot and very dusty. Feeling the need to wash away some of that dust, or at least the particles that clung to their dry throats, Mano and Buck made the saloon their first port of call.

The red saloon doors parted as Buck and Mano rushed to the bar,

"Mike, 2 tequilas for my amigo and me,” said Buck,

"Buck, amigo.  I think we should give a toast, to Victoria,"

" A toast to Victoria, why?" inquired Buck.

" Si , a toast to my sister , for if were not to be her birthday next week, we would not be here in Tucson , but in the heat of the sun with all those burros, "

Buck smiled at his amigo, wiping the perspiration from his brow, a grin came to his face,

"Yer right, Mano, but what is the toast"

Mike brought the two glasses ,

"raise your glass, Buck, the toast is Tequila  Tucson  and Victoria,"

"Tequila Tucson and Victoria ", repeated Buck, finishing the shot glass in a second,

The swinging doors clattered and boots clomped across the floor as Manolito called for another drink and toasted his brother-in-law, John Cannon, for giving them a day off in town.

"To Big John," replied Buck, lifting his glass in salute and then bringing it to his lips.

"Three beers," boomed a voice in Buck's ear, and then a bear of a man appeared at his side, bumping his shoulder and sloshing the Tequila into his nose.

Groaning inwardly, Buck wiped his dripping chin on the cuff of his black shirt.  Hulk Branson and his cubs would have to be in town today. The big mule-skinner was ornerier than a mad bull on the prod and twice as mean, and his two boys were no better.

 

Hulk's younger son, Rusty, banged his fists on the bar.  "Hurry it up, Barkeep.  My throats parched."

"I'll hurry 'im along," said Rusty's brother, Wade.  Then his hand flashed upward, and the glasses that the bartender had been polishing burst apart, pieces flying in all directions as three shots blended into one. 

Buck jumped back out of the way of the pelting bits of glass.  His shoulder collided with what he assumed was Manolito's shoulder as the other man also moved away from the bar, and his beer mug slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor.  "What'd yuh do that for?" he demanded, scowling at Wade.

 

"Wanna make somethin' of it?" Wade growled menacingly, turning to glare at Buck, his father and brother sidling over to flank him.

"Yeh!" Rusty demanded, a twisted grin on his lips as he eyed Buck and Manolito.

 

"You wanna make somethin' of it?"

"Only a few glasses, nothing to worry about," the bartender stuttered nervously in a futile attempt to diffuse the situation. When Buck and the Branson's ignored him he ducked hastily below the counter, resigning himself to a fight that was likely to cost him a weeks worth of takings.

Manolito shook his head sorrowfully. He had hoped to have a few drinks, then spend some time with Perlita before collecting Victoria's present and heading home. Now it looked as if he'd be too busy nursing his injuries, he just hoped there wouldn't be too many of them.

It was Hulk who threw the first punch.

 

Fortunately, for Buck, the Tequila hadn't affected his reflexes...yet. He drew his head back. The breeze from Hulk's blow was the only thing he felt. Unfortunately, for Branson, when he pulled his right arm back, prior to throwing his punch, his elbow connected with the back of Curly Flannigan's noggin.

There was only one man--in the entire Territory--who could 'out-bully' the Bransons, and Hulk had just bashed the back of that man's head in with his 'funny bone'.

The two compadres from The High Chaparral exchanged hopeful glances. Couldn't hurt to have another set of fists flying on their side. Especially when rumor had it that, before becoming head honcho over at The Circle M, Curly Flannigan had been a professional boxer somewhere back East. Hulk just stood there for a few seconds, with his right arm outstretched, massaging his aching joint.

Seeing that Wade and Rusty were about to pick up where the senior Branson had left off, Curly sent a silent signal to the three men who were with him. The ominous 'cli-ick'ing of pistols being cocked caused Branson's cubs to freeze.

Flannigan, who had been in the process of leaving the saloon, slowly finished rising to his feet. "This is between me and your Pa now, boys," the burly cowboy warned. He touched the tender spot on the back of his head and then turned to the party responsible for putting it there. "Let's take this outside, Branson."

Hulk was visibly rattled by the recent turn of events. The huge hombre had obviously heard the rumors.

 

The two combatants--and everyone else--began filing out the saloon's front doors.

Manolito was positively ecstatic. He also felt deeply indebted to Senor Flannigan. Thanks to the man's timely intervention, there was now a good chance his knuckles would not be bruised and his lips would not be bloodied. Which meant caressing Perlita, and covering the lovely young senorita with kisses, might not be such a painful experience. Besides, watching a good fight was always more enjoyable than actively participating in one. He was, after all, a lover--not a fighter. "Would you care to wager...?"

Buck grabbed his glass--and their open bottle of liquid refreshment—and began heading for the doors. "My money's on Flannigan."

The lover snatched up his shot glass and followed his friend out onto the saloon's shaded front porch.

 

Buck leaned against a porch support, squinting against the bright sunshine on the dusty street. He upended a mug of beer and drank, the amber liquid spilling down his chin and over his shirt. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he pointed toward the two burly men. “Looks like two bulls with rocks for brains, iffen you ask me.”

 

“As long as the bulls are not interested in me, compadre, I am a happy man.” He winced as Flannigan landed a solid fist into Branson’s midsection.  Cowboys, shopkeepers, and saloon girls ringed the fighters, placing bets on the outcome. Staggering, Branson recovered and threw a round house right cross at Flannigan, snapping his head back and following it with a hard left cross. “Howee! Howee! Eh, amigo, you are certain about the money you mentioned?”

 

Digging stubby fingers into a vest pocket, Buck withdrew a coin. “I got five dollars says Curly boy’s still standing at the end of the dance.” When Hulk Branson knocked Flannigan through the porch railing, Buck hauled the broad shouldered Irishman to his feet, poured beer over his head, and slapped him on the back, chattering, “I got a half-eagle on you, Curly. A whole five dollars. You feeling good? Real good?  Want a drink?” He poured beer down the fighter’s throat, pounding his back when he choked. “Good boy, you’ll be fine.” Spinning him around, he shoved him into the street. “I be counting on you, Flannigan.”

 

Shaking beer from his wiry black hair, Curly Flannigan peered between his upraised fists. Swaying on large feet, he swung a massive fist at Hulk. Branson dodged the slow trailing punch with a sneer and Flannigan stumbled. Laughing, Manolito reached for the gold piece but Buck jerked it away. “Keep them fingers to yourself. Ain’t nobody down yet.”

 

“All right.” Hands forward, Mano shrugged. “You keep it safe for me.”

 

The crowd cheered as Branson jabbed at the tottering Flannigan, connecting quick, darting punches. When the Irishman sank to his knees, Hulk turned to the onlookers in triumph, arms held wide. “Ain’t nobody in the territory can mess with a Branson.”

 

Smiling, Manolito held out his hand. “I believe we had a bet, amigo mio?”

 

Buck sighed and grumbled, “Why is it you get lucky ever time we come to Tucson, Mano?” Ready to drop the coin in the outstretched hand, he stopped and pointed to the street. As Hulk turned, Flannigan rose from the ground, smashing with a powerful uppercut. Branson flew backwards, knocked cold. Weaving, unsteady, Curly Flannigan rose to his feet and wiped a hand across his bleeding mouth.

 

A broad smile splitting his leather-tanned face, Buck tapped Manolito’s palm with a fist and chuckled. “Like I said. How come I get lucky ever time we come to Tucson?” Poking a broad, gloved finger into the younger man’s shoulder, he continued, “That be five whole dollars you owe Uncle Buck, aye-migo.”

 

******

 

After the dust settled and wagers were collected Manolito Montoya was feeling very lucky.

 

A dimpled smile emerged on the young man's face. A sparkle danced in his eyes as he said casually, "Adios, compadre, I have important business to discuss". He dashed off across the street toward the cantina.

 

For a moment, Buck watched him, sighed and shook his head. "That Manoleeto will never change", he muttered. Determined not to cooperate, Buck set off, trotting to catch up.

 

Inside the cantina there were only a few patrons. One of them immediately drew Mano's attention, an attractive, strawberry-haired-blonde sat alone. He caught himself staring at the well-dressed young women and grinned broadly when she looked up at the door and caught his eye. She looked confident, but, on seeing the young man, her face fell and she looked back down at the table.

 

Buck gave Mano a quick shove and said, “Hey amigo, quit dawdling in the doorway." As Mano walked in, the woman looked up again. She smiled happily at Buck, who breezed past his friend, went up to the lovely woman, took her hands as she rose and kissed her warmly on the cheek.

Manolito was staring, mouth open at the pair. "Mano, stop fly catchin and come over and meet my cousin, Amilia Daniels," said Buck.  He then turned to the woman.  "Amy, this be Manolito Montoya.  He be John's brother-in-law."

Amilia tipped her head, smiled, and held out a dainty hand.  "'Tis a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Montoya."

"The pleasure is all mine," replied Manolito, bowing at the waist.  He then took her hand and brought it to his lips where he held it captive until Buck coughed.

"I was surprised when John said you’d be here. What brings you to Arizona?" asked Buck.

"I have an engagement in San Francisco next month and thought 'twould be grand to see what life in the wild west is really like," replied Amelia with a smile that quickly faded into a worried frown.  "John doesn’t mind my coming does he?  I did rather insist on bringing the gift myself and disappointment would have been absolutely devastating, if he had declined my request."

"Naw.  He be tickled pink.  You be his favorite cousin, and you know it."  Buck spoke with a confidence than didn't show in his eyes.     

 

******

 

Mano scowled as he walked over to the stage office.  Buck had rather peremptorily "asked” him to bring the package and Senorita Amelia's cases over to the hotel.  Of course, the poor girl needed time to refresh herself and rest before the trip back to Chaparral but it was also obvious that Buck was doing his best to protect her from his, Don Manolo Montoya's, superior charms.   
  
Almost bumping into a lady of lesser repute his demeanor changed completely, his face again that of the laughing-eyed caballero and though she smiled only slightly as she moved on his mood lightened enough to reflect on how many days he had to make an impression on Amelia with less of Buck's interference.
  
The stage manager was helping other customers as Mano entered the office/waiting room.  Boxes and trunks littered the floor...and he stepped gingerly over them to the bench, tipped his hat over his face wondering if the Senorita was an average traveler or like his sister, who was likely to bring her entire wardrobe whenever she was away more than 2 days.  He gave a short laugh as the picture of his father arriving at the Ranch so long ago flashed before his mind..the bathtub!  Now that was traveling.
  
Masterson had at last finished, "Senor Masterson, is there a box for John Cannon, por favor?" Masterson nodded and turned to walk into the storeroom. "Y, perdon? Are there many cases for Senorita."  Mano stopped, 'que estupido', he had forgotten her family name! "Are there any cases for the young lady who came on the last stage?"
  
"What's that?" Masterson asked sharply, "No, I have no idea," as he came out of the storeroom looking distracted. He handed Mano the box, then turned quickly and busied himself with papers.  FRAGILE was clearly marked on all sides.
  
Mano hoist the box onto his shoulder. And stopped in his tracks. The sound of loose items clinked in the box. There was no mistaking it. This was not a sound to make Big John happy.

"Ay, Manito," he muttered, thinking always, they kill the messenger. Hombre, that is you when Victoria opens this. Considering his options, a slow smile curled his mouth.  "Better a live dog than a dead lion.  Andele!"  Crossing the dusty street, he sauntered down the boardwalk, turned the corner and approached a one-room adobe house.  He straightened his bandanna before knocking on the door and yodeling, "Perlitoooo!"  From inside, he heard scuffling footfalls. "Perlitooo!  It is I, Manolito."
  
The door cracked open. Perlita Flores' eyes went to the package on his shoulder and she threw the door open wide.  "Manolito, mi corazon! You brought me a present?"
  
"Claro que si, muchacha.  For you, the fairest flower in all of Tucson, something so special I cannot describe it." Lips parting in a lupine grin, he wrapped an arm around her tightly-belted waist and urged her back inside with a kiss.  She returned it enthusiastically until he maneuvered her aside to set the box her tiny dining table.  Tipping his hat, Mano gestured grandly toward the package.  Perlita tore into it like a hungry wildcat with a dead rabbit. He eyed her considerable assets as cardboard flew, framing apologies for such a beautiful gift, unfortunately broken in transit but still worth much to him.
  
Hands on the sides of the box, she peered in, eyes wide and gasped, "Manolito!  It's..."

With a sinking heart Mano could only watch as Perlita turned from the box, eyes sparkling with happiness.

 

"It is so beautiful," she said softly, "Is it really for me?"

 

Mano nodded sickly, realising that whatever was in the box, it obviously wasn't broken. He could hardly take the gift away from Perlita now he'd given it to her but how was he going to explain this to Big John?

 

"I shall keep it for a very special occasion," Perlita declared and, turning, picked up the box and carried it off towards her bedroom before Mano had a chance to see what was inside.

 

'A special occasion,' Mano thought, with a touch of panic. 'Did that mean it was something to wear? If it was then Big John would be almost bound to see it and realise that his brother-in-law had given away Victoria's gift. Ay-yi-yi, he was in trouble'.

 

Manolito was only able to get a quick glimpse of the item in the box before Perlita whisked it away. He thought perhaps he saw something gray, maybe something vaguely familiar, but he wasn't sure. He had bigger things to think about.

 

*****

Meanwhile back at the Ranch. Victoria was busy with the endless household chores. She said a silent prayer thanking God for Violeta's help. Victoria allowed her mind to wander as she worked.  ‘I wonder what John will get me for my Birthday’, she thought. Despite trying, John was notoriously terrible at gift giving. She smiled as she recalled last year's gift. John had bought her the identical gray dress he had bought her the year before, but two sizes too big. Of course Victoria didn't let on and in her gracious way she thanked him and assured him she was pleased with the gift.

She could tell by her brother's amused expression that he immediately recognized his-brother-in-law's blunder. She shot back a look to Manolito making him promise never to tell John.  It was uncanny. With just a look the two Montoyas were able to communicate effectively. It had always been that way.

As she worked Victoria wondered why John assigned Blue to help her with the chores instead of Manolito as she requested. ‘It's a lot more fun ordering Manolito around, than asking poor Blue,’ she thought. Clearly Blue was disappointed when his father refused to allow him to go into town with Buck today. Plus, John was often reluctant to send Buck and Mano together for obvious reasons. ‘Something wasn't right,’ she thought as she continued scrubbing the old kettle.

In his small office, John was deep in thought. It seemed like a good idea to write to cousin Amy to enlist her help with Victoria's gift. Actually it was Blue who first suggested it. He pointed out that Amy always had a certain flair for those things. However, John never expected that she would insist on bringing the gift to Arizona
herself.  And why did she insist on surprising Blue with her presence? Under the circumstances, John felt he should keep Amy's arrival a secret from everyone except Buck.

Cousin Amy was always very independent and could be a handful.  Still, John was fond of her, but didn't care for the way she earned her living. It wasn't his concern he told himself since Amy wasn't really a relative.  Her grandfather Bill was like an uncle to John and Buck when they were growing up and the familial title stuck. ‘Having Amy around, even for a short time could be more than I bargained for,’ he thought with a sigh, and then immediately felt guilty. Amy was after all, just like family. ‘Well, it's done now, what possibly could happen,’ John thought.

John unconsciously glanced at his pocket watch. He was a practical man and didn't really care for surprises. Yet here he was involved in three. His blue eyes twinkled and the frown softened when he thought about Victoria opening the big box and finding the same style gray dress, but this time adorned with ostentatious metal buttons.  He imagined Victoria graciously trying to regain her composure before he revealed her real gift...

 

 

*****

 

Sitting in the lounge of Tucson's best hotel with a pot of coffee in front of him, and longing for a cold beer, Buck wondered just where Manolito had got to. It was over an hour since he'd asked him to collect Amelia's cases and Victoria's gift from the stage office, so where was he?

 

He didn't have to wait long to find out. It was less than five minutes later when the door of the hotel was pushed open and his friend sauntered in.

 

"Well?" Buck demanded, as Manolito took a seat opposite him and he saw that the Mexican carried no bags or boxes. "Where be the luggage?"

 

"Senor Masterson did not know which cases were Senorita Amelia's," Mano explained, before continuing, a little guiltily, "and it seems I have misplaced Victoria's gift."

 

"Misplaced?" Buck asked in astonishment.

 

"Perhaps misplaced is not quite the right word," Mano conceded with a shake of his head. "It is more that I gave it away."

 

"You what?" shouted Buck.

Manolito grinned even though he felt like his gut was tied in a knot.  "I . . . gave it away."

"No."

"Si."

"Who?"

"You don't want to know," replied Mano with a shake of his head.

Buck sighed heavily.  "You know you have to get it back, don't you?"

"Is impossible," said Manolito, knowing that was stating the situation lightly.

"Then you best be thinkin' what you're gunna tell John."

"Amigo . . . I thought you could--"

"Whoa, Amigo!  This is your problem."

"Just a little help . . . for Victoria is not too much to ask.  Si?"  Mano looked expectantly at his friend.  Surely Buck could come up with a workable plan.

 

"I can't see much chance of Perlita giving it back, that is who you gave it to ain't it?"

 

Mano nodded  in assent, "Si,"

 

"Why in tarnation did you do that? No, never mind..." Buck held up a hand as Mano started to explain. "Save the story to tell to cousin Amelia, after all she brought it all this way. She's not gonna be real happy, never mind what John'll say."

 

"Which is why we have to get it back, amigo."

 

"WE!" Buck shook his head vigorously, "Ain't no we in this. Like I said it's your problem. You gave it to Perlita, you get it back."

 

"But she was so pleased. I cannot possibly ask her to return it,"

 

"Guess you'll just have to take it without askin'."

 

"Steal it?"

 

"As it wasn't yours to give away, I guess it ain't really stealin' to take it back."

 

Mano looked thoughtfully across the table at his friend. "Perhaps if I, shall we say, distracted, the lovely Perlita, you could sneak in and get the package."

 

"Ain't you forgettin' somethin'? I got Cousin Amelia to deal with and she'll be here just as soon as she washes up."

 

 

*****

 

 

Gingerly, Perlita lifted Mano's gift from the box.  The soft grey fabric was supple and fluttered as she held it to her, dancing and twirling with joy. Mano
had often promised her wonderful gifts, but she never expected him to actually produce one. And most certainly not something so fine as this.

Perlita's wide smile turned to a frown as she noticed her reflection in the mirror.  The dress trailed on the ground--it was obviously intended for someone much
taller - and much less buxom than she.  Her dark brown eyes flickered with the anger that was building inside her. "That SNAKE! And he comes here to tell me, to my face, that he has selected a present just for ME! LIAR! I will show him what I think of his sister's throw-aways! If it was not good enough for her it is not good enough for Perlita, either!"

Perlita wadded the dress into a ball and was about to stuff it into the small pot-bellied stove when a noise from outside caught her attention.

 

"Perlita.  Open up.  Por favor,"

"Who is there?" she called.  The voice was not familiar, and she thought the man could not have been speaking Spanish long.

"Buck Cannon," replied the man on the other side of the door.  "I be a friend of Manolito.  He be hurt bad.  Can you come see him?"

Perlita scowled at the dress in her hands.  If she burned it, she would not see Mano's reaction to the destruction of his gift.  "Un momento, por favor," she called.  Then with a new plan in mind, she carefully folded the dress and cradled it in her arm like a baby.

Before going to the door, Perlita retrieved a knife from the drawer of a small table and hid it beneath the dress.  Manolito Montoya would soon regret having lied to her.  She would see to that!