One Step Over the Border (30 page)

When they drove past the information center twenty minutes later, all the employees lined the road and waved. One of them
held a hand-scrawled “Ponder Rosa” sign.

“I’ve been back there for almost a year. I never knew I had this kind of support,” Rosa said.

“I don’t think Davenport is real popular among the staff. They’re hopin’ you can do somethin’ about him, too.”

They circled behind the maintenance sheds and bumped down the dirt road to the ranch.

“What about the gate guards?” Rosa asked.

“That’s why I put the carbines up here with us. I still wish I knew what Davenport really wanted.” Hap studied the dust fogged
up behind them. “Do you reckon they want to build an Indian casino down at the highway junction?”

“I don’t think there are any reservations in Texas. Besides, that would be a horrible location. For a big operation, you need
people… and a draw.”

Windows down, carbines out both sides, Hap rolled up to the Rodríguez Ranch gate.

“Well, isn’t that nice?” he laughed. “I reckon I jist can’t leave Laramie alone.”

The gate to the ranch stood ajar. Strapped to the post on one side was Manny Ferguson. Bound to the post on the other side
was Kurt Munkk. Both had bandannas tied in their mouths.

Hap stopped the truck. “Well, boys, it surely was nice of you to leave the gate open. Thoughtful of ’em, ain’t it, Rosa, darlin’?”

“Very considerate.”

“You probably regret all those horrible names you called them.”

“No, not at all,” she replied.

Hap stepped out of the truck and approached Ferguson. With a poster marker he wrote on the man’s brown T-shirt: “Ponder Rosa.”
He scrawled the same slogan on Munkk. “You know, I’m startin’ to see that slogan ever’where.”

A phone rang on Ferguson’s belt. Hap plucked it up and flipped it open. “Yeah?” he growled.

“This is Davenport. I’ve been trying to phone you for twenty minutes.”

“We’ve been busy.”

“Start the bulldozer. Demolish the cabin right now. Rodríguez is not there. Have Munkk stop her and the cowboy at the gate.
Tell him to use force, if necessary.”

“What do you want us to do with the bodies?”

“What bodies?”

“The two cowboys and Rodríguez. They tried to ram us a few minutes ago, so we snuffed them,” Hap rasped.

“You did what? I didn’t say to kill them. Good Lord, what have you done? I told Mr. Logina there could be no killing. I’ll
be there in five minutes.”

Hap squeezed the phone back in the man’s pocket.

He tipped his hat to the tied men. “Just think of how happy Davenport will be when he finds out you didn’t kill anyone. You
boys have a nice day.”

Hap cruised up to the cabin. He and Rosa carried groceries to the front porch. The lever on a Winchester checked inside the
cabin. “You’d better be a man with a black hat and cheesy mustache with a pretty girl named Rosa or I’ll shoot.”

Hap strolled inside the cabin. Laramie stretched out in the short bunk, Rosa’s carbine in his hand, a wet towel over his face.
“You’re a little testy, partner. I don’t think the boys at the gate appreciated your attitude.”

Laramie sat up. The towel dropped. “They kept prowling around the house keeping me awake most all night. I had to do something.”

“Yep, a man does need his rest.”

“Well, I didn’t get it. You two are late. Did the media pick up the story?”

“Not yet. But we started our own campaign. And Davenport’s on his way.”

Laramie glanced around the musty cabin. “If I’d known you invited company, I would have vacuumed. You going to fill me in
what you did in town?”

“As soon as we go to the gate and settle with Davenport.”

“I get to take care of him,” Rosa demanded.

“You need any help?” Laramie paused. “That was a dumb question.”

“You and Hap can hike down there with me, to make sure Munkk and Ferguson stay tied.”

“Horseback might be more picturesque,” Hap said. “We’re expectin’ an audience.”

Laramie and Hap rode to the gate, carbines across their saddles. Rosa tramped down unarmed.

Hap nudged Luke behind the junipers on the left side of the gate. Laramie and Tully staked out in the pines on the right.
Rosa took her stance in the gateway, framed by bound men. A light green pickup with government plates pulled up. Davenport
hopped out with his semiauto .45-caliber pistol in hand.

“What’s going on here? I heard someone was shot.”

“Not yet, but that could change,” Rosa snarled.

His gun pointed at her, Davenport stalked toward the tied men. He flipped open a knife and reached toward Ferguson.

Laramie and Hap drifted out of the trees. “Don’t cut them loose, Davenport.”

“Aren’t you dead?”

“You know, I get that all the time,” Hap drawled.

“This is between you and Rosa,” Laramie said. “Lay your gun down.”

“I’ll do no such thing!”

Hap’s shot blasted three feet right of Davenport. Laramie’s hit one foot to his left. The gun dropped.

A white Oldsmobile, a dark green van, and a Suburban pulled up as Davenport raised his hands.

“What are these people doing here? This is off-limits,” Davenport groused.

An older couple with bright shirts, shorts, and white legs got out of the Olds. Eight Italian tourists climbed out of the
van. Four boys, two dogs, and two sunburned adults exited the SUV.

“They came to watch the show.” Hap rode over to the open gate. “Scoot right on up here, folks. You get to witness a livin’
historical presentation about the early days of west Texas.”

One of the Italian visitors held up a sign, “Ponder Rosa.”

“Yes, this is the famous play,
Ponder Rosa
. Playin’ Rosa will be the lovely and talented Miss Rosa Rodríguez Tryor. And playin’ the vile and evil villain will be Superintendent
Davenport. The handsome and dashin’ hero will be… me, Hap Bowman. And his quiet, but thoughtful, partner will be portrayed
by that talented star of many a roundup, Laramie Majors.”

“What in blazes are you talking about?” Davenport huffed.

“Now, don’t say your lines before your turn.”

One of the boys held up his hand. “What about those two tied to the gate. Who are they supposed to be?”

“Oak trees,” Hap said. “Back in the old days, there were more oak trees. Now, here’s the story. Mean superintendent tries
to eject sweet and innocent Miss Rodríguez off land that has been in her family for over a century…”

“This is absurd,” Davenport fumed.

“All I want is a simple agreement,” Rosa recited, her hands folded beneath her chin. “I want a fair exchange of land, a guarantee
this will always be called the Rodríguez Ranch at Panther Mountain, and a promise the spring will be available free of charge
to park visitors. Is that too much to ask?”

Davenport crisscrossed his arms. “Stop this insane charade. You are illegally squatting on government land and should be evicted.”

Rosa cocked her head, blinked her eyes, and pleaded, “Oh, please don’t throw me out in the cruel world. I have nowhere to
go.”

Hap waved at the crowd. “Come on, folks, this is supposed to be interactive.”

The boys booed.

Davenport hiked toward the yellow bulldozer. “This is no game. I should have done this weeks ago. That cabin is coming down
now.”

“Oh, what shall I do?” Rosa swooned.

“Never fear,” Laramie called out. “Stand back, Superintendent, or face the wrath of El Hap.”

“I’m not a part of this circus!” Davenport swooped down to grab up his handgun. Rosa kicked it from his hand. He grabbed her
leg and tripped her.

The crowd booed.

Two other cars drove up and parked. More people scooted up to watch.

“Unhand her, you villain!” Hap called out as he rode forward and slapped his coiled nylon rope against Davenport’s face. Lines
of blood dribbled down.

“That looks real, Dad,” one of the boys blurted out. “How do they do that?”

“They’re actors, son. It’s just a stunt.”

Davenport clutched his face. “You are all under arrest, every one of you, for obstructing a park ranger in the line of duty.
This is no laughing matter. These men are outlaws.”

The crowd booed.

Davenport raced to the bulldozer and hopped up on the tracks. Laramie’s rope dropped over the superintendent’s shoulders.
He yanked it tight.

The crowd cheered.

Davenport’s hand came up from his waist with a knife that sliced the rope.

The crowd gasped.

One of the dogs sprinted into the scene, tail wagging, tongue drooping, and jumped up on Rosa. She backed up and stumbled
to the ground. Davenport lunged at her, grabbed her shoulders, and thrust the knife in front of her face. “This is not a game.
I am not going to let you take away my fortune.”

The crowd shouted boos.

“Davenport, are you going to slice her up in front of all these witnesses?” Laramie called out.

“That depends on you.”

“We could shoot you right now,” Hap suggested.

“How far will the knife pierce before I die?”

Hap gawked over at Laramie, then back at Rosa.

“Oh, for petey’s sake, you two have forgotten your lines,” Rosa scolded. “This is where you lower your guns and I turn like
this…”

Rosa spun as her knee slammed up and the palms of her hands jammed down, meeting like a vise on Davenport’s groin. His knife
tumbled to the dirt. The man crumpled in tears and agonized moans.

The crowd applauded.

“Rosa is a trained professional,” Laramie called out. “Don’t try that move at home.”

“It’s a simple trick I learned from a street girl in Cairo,” Rosa said.

“This is a dumb skit,” one of the boys griped.

“When do we get to go swimming?” another said.

A little old lady shuffled up. “Could you teach me that move, young lady?”

“Which one of you is Rosa Rodríguez Tryor?” A gray-haired man in full-dress park service uniform demanded, pushing through
the crowd.

Rosa stepped over a dusty and whimpering Davenport. “That would be me.”

“I’m Ed Vines, the regional chief. Our office received over two thousand ‘Ponder Rosa’ emails by eight this morning. I just
received the email you sent a month ago. It got shuffled around while people were on vacation. I want to talk to you about
this situation and your allegations.”

“I’d be happy to discuss it with you.”

“Let’s meet in private at the information center in thirty minutes. I need to discuss a few things with Davenport first.”

“Can we talk without Davenport present?”

“Yes, that’s possible.”

“Do you have the authority to negotiate land exchanges?”

“Yes. Is that what this is about?”

“That’s all it’s ever been about.”

Vines caught sight of the two bound men. “Who in blazes are they?”

“Oak trees,” a little boy called out.

Laramie and Hap lounged on the tailgate of the black Dodge parked in front of park headquarters. It had been two hours since
Rosa entered the office with Regional Superintendent Ed Vines. All of her personal belongings from the cabin were stuffed
in a galvanized laundry tub and a wooden Winchester rifle crate in the back of the truck.

Rosa strolled out of the office with papers under her arm and a huge smile.

“I take it you got what you wanted?” Laramie called out.

She waved the papers. “A hundred and sixty acres along the Pecos River, adjacent to a bird refuge. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

“Noisy, but nice,” Hap said.

She slid in the middle of Hap’s truck. “Let’s get on the road before they run out and change their minds.”

“What about the other demands?” Laramie asked.

“They will designate the site as the ‘Historic Rodríguez Ranch’ on the park map and develop a picnic area at Ernesto Springs.”

“Nice name,” Hap said.

“I thought so.”

“What happens to Davenport and the goon squad?”

“Once I got these concessions, I didn’t press charges. I don’t want to spend six months down here on court cases. So, Davenport
opted for early retirement and the Out West Development thugs got escorted out of the park.”

Hap pulled up to the kiosk where Erika leaned out the window. “Look at this.” She held out a light pink T-shirt with rose-colored
letters that spelled out
Ponder Rosa
.