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81 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

a lot of dried leaves on the ground so I took a long time trying to find the source of that noise. I

realized that I was right. I had found the first meeting place of myself, Rosemarie and Juan

Torres. “Los Alamocitos!” The little Cottonwood grove. This is also where old Juan said he

buried Marcelo Rodriguez. I stayed cautious but started to relax a little. I found a brass concho

and a homemade steel knife hanging from a Mesquite branch, swinging in the breeze. That is

what made the noise.

I stood there looking at them, trying to figure why someone would tie them in such a manner. I

let my horse drink while I also drank. I led my horse away from the water and brushed out the

tracks with a weed. Then I fed the weed to my horse. A broken branch discarded in such a place

would arouse suspicion. We stayed there and I slept a while. Just before daylight, I saw a lone

horseman coming in my direction. There was no better place to try to hide, than where I was, so

I stayed put. The rider approached the spot cautiously and got down and led his horse to the

water hole. I watched from the shadows of the cottonwoodsand waited till he was as close as a

few feet. It was Rosemarie!

“Señorita,” I said. “Do not be alarmed, it is I, Gid Thacker.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin and stepped back in a stance to protect herself. Then she said.

"Señor! You are in grave danger if my father and his men find you talking to me.”

“I know,” I said.

“I had to talk to you before I leave Mexico. I want you to come back with me to Tamale

Ridge.”

“I would hate to go so far from my homeland and my family.” She said.

“It would be a good home for you and we could have a new family.” I said.

“The colts and the children could play together.” I said.

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