Iron Eyes, no. 1 by Rory Black Page B

the
part though. She looked like a woman for the first time in a very
long time.
    Although she
would never admit it to either herself or anyone else, it made her
feel good. Yet even as she walked in her flowing, light dress
across the cool, tiled floor in her bare feet, she felt uneasy and
still wondered why they had been brought here.
    What could
their motives be, to grab a pair of dusty strangers off a riverbank
and bring them to your home? To treat them as if they were honoured
guests? Charity was something neither she nor the tall, grim
bounty-hunter knew anything about, so this was the one factor that
eluded their suspicious minds.
    The sight of Iron Eyes with his black suit and white shirt
made her gasp when she first saw him entering the dining-room. Now,
as they walked along in the moonlight in the sheltered courtyard of
the beautiful hacienda, she was almost used to the strange
sight.
    His hair was
clean and combed back off his face, showing the scars that smallpox
had made during his tormented childhood. Yet he was clean and that
seemed odd. Not only to Jane but to himself. The smell of stale
sweat tends to become part of one’s persona when it remains long
enough, now the smell had been replaced by the aroma of perfumed
water. Iron Eyes was understandably very nervous. His nostrils did
not recognize his own body.
    It was as if he
were naked. He had washed away his identity Now he tried to remain
above what was happening in this place. It had to be some sort of
trap. Nobody could convince the tall, gaunt man to alter his mind.
The only thing that he was grateful to Valdez about was the beef
meal. It lay on his stomach better than all the chilli and hard
tack he had consumed over the past weeks of trailing Dan Hardy.
    She had left
her Winchester in the room whilst Iron Eyes had stuffed his Navy
Colts into his belt sash. He trusted nobody in this strange place,
and felt like shooting someone to see what might happen.
    How he had
managed to resist shooting anyone was a mystery to himself The
water of the bath must have softened his brains as well as his
skin, he assumed.
    Iron Eyes
leaned on the whitewashed wall that looked over the landscaped
gardens and courtyard. He knew that this was a trap in his guts.
Even filled with well-cooked beef and delicious wine, his natural
instincts would not allow him to drop his guard for even a
second.
    Jane seemed to
be enjoying being pampered, but the bounty-hunter knew that you got
nothing for nothing in this life. At least, he had never
experienced anything to make him alter his mind.
    The scene was
tranquil and peaceful, but this did not sit easily in Iron Eyes’
mind. His hands were never far from his guns as he tried to appear
relaxed.
    In truth he was
ready to draw and start shooting if anything provoked him. Anything
at all.
    Pausing to
witness the festivities, the two studied each other in the light of
the countless lanterns.
    ‘ You ain’t bad-looking,’ Jane said.
    ‘ Thanks,’ Iron Eyes nodded.
    Jane waited for
a long time for him to return the compliment, but that was
something that did not enter his head.
    ‘ Do I look OK?’ she hinted.
    His grey eyes
briefly glanced at her before returning to the scene around and
below them.
    ‘ You smell good.’
    She decided
that was as good as it would get.
    Compliments
were not his strength. He kept touching the handles of his guns
with his thumbs as the music filled their ears.
    ‘ They seem so happy, Iron Eyes,’ Jane sighed. ‘I guess I am
feeling a lot better than I did when I shot that hole out of your
ear.’
    Iron Eyes
touched the scab thoughtfully ‘If you had been a man you’d be dead
now, Jane.’
    She gave him a
smile that seemed almost feminine. ‘This seems a real happy
place.’
    Ain’t natural,’
he snapped.
    ‘ Not at all natural,’ she agreed.
    ‘ You trust this Dwan José Valdez varmint?’ he eventually
asked.
    ‘ Guess so,’ Jane answered, after giving the situation a lot of
thought. She