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140 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

“Señorita,” said Contesa, “I am not young like you, nor innocent. I know what thoughts are

in your mind and I know what is in your heart. I know also, that there are parts of your body that

yearn for his attention. You are of that age now and your woman feelings, you have become

aware of.

Everyone here talks in whispers about the Americano and how we will someday lose you to

him.”

So her secret had not been hers alone! The people around her had noticed that the American

horseman could ride out of Mexico and still remain in the Señorita’s heart.

Raul, Vincente and Carlos rode down a draw where they had spotted a wisp of smoke and

rode into the Indian camp. They felt more than saw the weapons that covered them. It almost

made Raul smile to think how much better the three Vaqueros were armed than the fifteen or so

Indios, with their crude bows and arrows. However he also knew if he were unlucky enough to

receive one of the arrows himself, it would most certainly be his death.

“Buenas Tardes,” Raul spoke.

“Buenas Tardes,” answered a tall thin man standing armed, as though he was worried as to

what these men wanted.

“We are looking for a young man nearing his sixteenth year,” said Raul, in Spanish.

“He may be hurt.”

“And what would you do with this Muchacho, if you find him?” asked the spokesman.

“We would take him home with us.” Raul continued, “He is now the Haciendado, of a place

called “Rancho Seco” It is far from here.”

“You do not intend the muchacho harm?” asked the man.

“No señor,” answered Raul, “he is now the Patron, since his father was killed by banditos.

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