Sam Bender s horse covered the 5 miles to the bender well in a running walk that ate up the miles. his head at shoulder level with a slight swing as he shuffled along. the storm to the south was closer but moving slowly north. sam could smell the moisture and a slight breeze had a cooling effect. he followed a well worn cattle trail through the mesquite thicket that clung to the banks of the vekhol wash. at this point the wash as a hundred feet wide with twenty foot walls. a person caught inside that ditch had to ride for two miles to find a place to climb out. sam was on the east side of the wash and headed south. the well and corrals sat on the west side on a bench that was clear of brush. at the well a old wagon, jeep road crossed the wash on its way to the vekol mine up on the slope of antelope mountain. the mine had been abandoned 50 years before but was a popular picnic spot for weekend jeep cruisers. as sam approached the crossing he noticed no fresh tracks crossing to his side. the hot dry wind of the past few days had scoured any tracks into dust. the border patrol had picked up the body of the coyote sam had shot and taken possetion of the one back pack of contraband. it appeared no one had returned in the past two weeks. as sam turned his horse down the bank into the wash at the crossing he noticed a trickle of water starting to slip through the sandy bottom. looking south he didn't see anything out of place. he knew once he crossed to the west side and the wash filled with flood water it may be hours or even a day before he could recross at this point. the age old mesquite trees that grew along the bank had limbs that hung out over the channel,shading the bottom. sam had to lean far over his saddle horn as he rode under them. the limbs scratching his back. as he reached the bench on the other side he noticed fresh tire tracks at the well. circling cautiously he saw where the tracks had entered the bench on the jeep trail from the west . waffle tracks showed where a person had walked around the corrals, and up and down the west bank of the wash. sam rode around the corral to the far side to where he had camped the night he was forced to shoot the coyote. the spot where he had his fire had been kicked and scattered, the waffle tracks lead to the water storage tank and stopped at the iron ladder set in the native rock that was the platform the tank set on. sam set on his horse, leaning on the saddle horn thinking back , trying to remember the events weeks before. the coyote had approached the fire from the east. sissy had said he had hid his back pack before going into the camp. sam rode back to the wash and rode along the west bank slowly , looking into every bush and badger hole as he rode along. rain started to patter on his hat, a strong sprinkle that was growing in intensity. he stopped to pull on his slicker, then resumed his search. riding south he followed the bank for a t least a mile all the while the rain getting stronger. the stream in the wash bottom was getting stronger also. it was now knee deep on his horse. the rain was strong enough now that it ran off sams hat in a stream. the grease wood gave off a smell that comes with the rain, a clean fresh smell. the earth was drinking up the moisture . you could almost hear it . sam kept his head down in his search as he returned to the corrals he hadn't found anywhere the backpack could be stashed. the desert at this point was a just a barren plain dotted with the grease wood bushes. the only trees were a thin line of mesquite that lined the wash. as the storm intensified a slight roar could be heard from the wash channel. riding to the crossing sam saw roiling water rush ing by with waves leaping high.as he sat staring at the flood a small smile starting to form on his lips. after a few minutes of watching the flood he turned his horse toward home. the rain beating a tattoo on his back.his horse looked like a drowned rat. but the animal knew the direction they were taking would mean he would be in a corral soon with a feed of grain and hay.
the house sat on the east bank of the wash. but at this point the wash was 200 yards wide and the banks were a just a few feet wide. the flood had spread out and was just a little over 3 feet deep. the water was running fast but sam had faith in the little desert raised sorrel. just as they waded into the water a engine noise reached sams ears. it was coming up behind him. he stopped and turned the sorrel so he could see the car. it was a pickup and it was splashing its way to the crossing. as it pulled up sam could see the driver was a Mexican man and his passenger the same. they came to a slidding stop in the mud at the bank and the passenger got out and stepping around puddles he walked to the bank and waved. sam waved back but didn't move.
the man stood still and waved for sam to ride closer. sam reach inside his slicker and eased the .357 into his lap. he couldn't see any weapons on the man but he was taking no chances. he eased the sorrel closer.
" ime looking for my sister" the man said in perfect English.
" I haven't seen your sister" sam replied
" do you know my sister?": the man askd
sam smiled and shook his head " no"
the man smiled back. " she is young and she left mexico to come here for work"
" if she shows up what should I tell her amigo?" sam asked
" tell her she is needed at home. we have a family problem. its important. " the man had pulled his shirt collar up to his ears to keep the rain from trickling down his neck.
" ILL TELL HER IF SHE COMES BY. WHATS HER NAME AMIGO?" sam asked
" we call her sissy. the man answered
sam nodded then turned his horse back toward the house. when he reached mid channel he looked back and the man was still standing on the bank. the cheap straw hat he wore was melting in the rain. at last the man turned and went to the truck. when sam reached the east bank the truck still hadn't started. something stunk. he didn't like it. after putting the horse away and hanging the soaked slicker to drip dry he started slopping his way to the house. the truck was gone. as he reached the yard gate the smile returned to his face. this was a good day. a good rain, he had met sissys brother and he knew where the lost back pack was. things were looking up!!
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