Page 28 of Working the Lode

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Joaquin

The doctor flipped onto his back, his formidable cock bobbing in the air. His keen features frozen in swift response, in a flash Bowmaker reached down to draw his Colt from where he’d tossed his holster. But Valenzuela had thrown the holster behind him, and Bowmaker would have to get past him to retrieve it.

“What is it this time….Valenzuela?” the doctor asked pointedly. It was admirable the way he shielded the woman with his body, although she didn’t appear to need the shielding. Her disheveled head peeped out from over his shoulder. They both knew Bowmaker could easily disarm him, since Valenzuela had brought only a knife with him. “Where are the rest of your men?”

Valenzuela sat back on the pine boughs, dangling the knife carelessly from his knee. “I came alone. Your half-witted assistant is outside guarding the tent from intruders.”

Zelnora gripped Bowmaker’s bicep and said heatedly, “He is not half-witted! He is merely…jovial.”

The doctor frowned. Unfortunately, he stuffed his beefy prick back into his buckskins. Valenzuela did not bother averting his eyes from the luscious sight of the sinewy belly as his hand slid down to pack it beyond sight. “You didn’t arm him, did you?”

Valenzuela smiled, an uncustomary motion that felt sincere, for once. “Of course not. He’s just got his sharpened shovels and axes, but it makes him feel like a big gun. You must be more afraid for the squirrels, when he beats them over the head with his mining implements.”

Bowmaker looked squarely at him, also leaning his forearms against his raised knees. “So you’ve come to take our gold with only a bowie knife and no men? With only my man guarding the tent?” Perhaps the doctor realized how feeble the threat of “his man” was, for he quickly added, “I have several Indians camped nearby.”

The white man was understandably suspicious of his motives. It was not Valenzuela’s aim to put him on the defensive this time—nobody would achieve their goals that way. No, he had to soothe the Americans. “I have an intriguing proposition, more interesting than merely stealing your gold.”

Bowmaker sat straight. “And you couldn’t have come to us when we were eating dinner? You sure do have a knack for busting in while I’m having my cock sucked.”

Smiling slyly, Valenzuela replied, “It is perhaps a much more pleasing vista than watching filthy men washing gold, or slovenly men pouring beans into their mouths with trowels. I received the message from Miss Sparks.”

Bowmaker rose to his knees and grabbing Valenzuela’s shirtfront in his fist. “Message from Miss Sparks? How dare you insinuate that—“

Zelnora shook his arm. “Cormack, I did send him a message…in a way.”

Bowmaker released Valenzuela. He asked Zelnora evenly, “And just how, and what message did you send to him?”

The woman looked down sheepishly. “I just let him know that we’d welcome any information on Sonoran Camp. That’s all.”

Before the surgeon could become vexed again, Valenzuela explained, “She’s right. I did get that message. And I do control many men currently working the diggings near Sonoran Camp. I am constantly bringing more miners up from Hermosillo in Mexico. They’re very knowledgeable, but they would certainly welcome expert mineralogy experience from someone such as Miss Sparks.”

“All right,” Bowmaker conceded, calm despite the fact Valenzuela had not sheathed his knife yet. “So you allow us to stake a claim in return for advice. But I’m not interested in being beholden to a tyrant such as Ward Brannagh—such a heap of fat meat isn’t going to shine in these parts. I’ll not pay a tithe or even a percentage to anyone who isn’t down in the mine with me working it. There’s some other reason you came into our tent and have been tracking us for weeks. The gold câche?”

Slowly and somewhat reluctantly, Valenzuela shook his head. “No. Not the gold.” He paused. “You’re a doctor.”

Bowmaker paused also before responding. “What makes you think I’m a doctor?”

Valenzuela grinned. He knew it would be difficult getting the doctor to admit he was a doctor. Why else would he be toiling as a miner, the most thankless and brutal job on earth? He had reasons for not wanting to admit he was a doctor. “Who hasn’t heard of your feat saving that man with a quill through his throat?”

Bowmaker was swift to respond this time. “I learned that in the mountains, on the Lewis Fork. Anyone can learn that.”

“Yes? And does just anyone go to Sing Sing for pretending to doctor people?”

This silence was much longer. Zelnora looked quizzically at Bowmaker, while Bowmaker stared unblinking into Valenzuela’s eyes.

Finally Zelnora whispered, “What is Sing Sing?”

This seemed to break the spell, for Bowmaker, without taking his eyes off Valenzuela, commanded her from the corner of his mouth, “Go outside and see what Quartus is doing. Check for other bandits. Take my Colt that is lying behind this outlaw.”

In a rush of cinnamon and roses, she did as requested. Bowmaker said, “I’ll hunt you down and raise your hair if you so much as mention Sing Sing again.”

Valenzuela grinned. “I thought that would break you, to mention that. Or shall I mention your compañero Erskine’s imprisonment for questionable financial practices?”

“Talk about that, and I’ll put my knife in your lights.” Bowmaker nodded with confidence. He did still have his knife belt buckled around his hips. It would be a coin toss as to who would be quicker on the draw, the mountain man or the desperado. “You’re going to break or go under, Valenzuela. So you want doctoring skills for…yourself? I’ll see if I can muddle through it. Who can say. My phony doctoring has helped more people than not.”

“No, it is not I who require it. It is someone who resides in Sonoran Camp and cannot move. If you take a journey there I can give you the best claim, and some men to assist you.”