El Paso - Jake Rivers

María was becoming more and more fascinated with the further adventures of Faleena and together we worked hard on the research and spent hours talking about why Faleena did the things that she did; what kind of a woman she was.

FALEENA – PART II

Three long days and nights on a stage with a rest now and then was tiring for most people but Faleena loved it. She was focused on the end of the trip and the new life that awaited her. She knew she would find that here it would be more exciting than where she had been in Santa Fe.

The stage made its last stop, high on a mountaintop above El Paso.

It was coming on to darkness and she could see all of the lights at the foot of the long grade. Her world was already brighter and deep down inside her began an uncontrolled beating; her young heart just wouldn't be still.

After the stage stopped and the grizzled old driver asked if he could carry her luggage, Faleena took a hotel, a small room at the Lily Belle. Not able to wait a minute longer she quickly changed to a form-fitting black satin dress and went down to the dance hall.

Every man stopped to stare, to admire this form so fine and so rare and so lovely. Even the women remarked of the charm she possessed. Truly, El Paso knew that something special had happened that made even that wild town sit up and take notice.

Dancing and laughter, that was what Faleena was after, and Rosa's Cantina was bright with gaiety in the gleaming lights. That was what she had wanted; that was what she had hunted. Rosa's was one place a nice girl would never be seen but for Faleena it was a showplace for her beauty and her seductive flirting. It was the same as it had been back in Santa Fe: men would make fools of themselves at the thought of romance with Faleena.

Rosa took heed of the attention paid to this lovely young girl. She knew her place was in need of this kind of excitement, so she paid Faleena to dance. Everyone that danced with Faleena came to love her … and she them. She was a master at the age of eighteen of every trick known to woman in the fine art of flirting. With a quick smile and a toss of her long black hair a fight would erupt and Faleena would stand back laughing. She would often go off dancing with someone else before the fight even ended. She was a Jezebel without even knowing the word.

A year passed, and maybe a little more, and then through the swinging doors came a young cowboy. He was so tall and so handsomely dressed that he immediately grabbed her attention. This cowboy was new in town; he hadn't been seen around at all.

He was so different with his easy manner, ready laugh and his unruly mop of bright red hair … he wasn't like all of the rest of the men that Faleena had known. She danced close to him, feeling a tugging at her heart that was new to her. She then threw a rose to him and he quickly walked to her table and there he sat down with her – making her laugh with his cowboy love.

In a day or so, wherever folks would go they would see this young cowboy showing Faleena the town. It was clearly a beautiful young love such as the hard town had never seen before. For six weeks he went with her, spent each minute of the day with her as they fell deeper in love.

But Texas Red was insanely jealous of the flirtatious glances she'd give to other men. She truly loved her wild young cowboy but the only way she knew to interact with the attentive men of the town was the casual smile that promised so much and delivered so little. She never realized that her meaningless actions hurt Texas Red so much.

Inside he was in pain from all of her flirting. That was her nature and that was the way that she lived. She flirted one night with a man on the town council but this time it wasn't just fisticuffs that resulted. After one dance the older man wanted more and grabbed her. Her cowboy shoved the man to the floor where he grabbed for a hidden derringer.

Faster than the eye could see Texas Red pulled a gun from the back of his belt, snuggled carefully under the cowhide vest. Both the shop owner from town and the young cowboy felt the ordinance forbidding the wearing of guns was not for them.

In less than a heartbeat guns flashed and after the smoke cleared away, on the floor lay a man, dying rapidly as his blood leaked out on the dance floor. Faleena's young lover had shot down another – a member of the town elite. She told him to hurry and to leave through the back door. The wild young cowboy ran, his heart in pain thinking of his love left behind.

Dallas Stoudenmire heard the news and gathered a posse to avenge the death of the man who had been one of his sponsors and supporters.

TWO HEARTS, ONE LOVE – JOHN

María had tears in her eyes as she finished reading about the death of Faleena's fiery cowboy. "How sad it is when two people mess up their love!"

She threw her arms around me, holding me tight, and whispered in my ear, "Let's be smarter than that. We know that we are going to get married but I want to become your wife now!"

With tears of love in her eyes – some sadness still for Faleena but a smile on her lips, she took my hand and led me into the bedroom.

"Love me, Johnnie. Make me your wife."

I was slow and gentle with María Elena. We were in no hurry; we had a lifetime left to love. We caressed and petted, explored and touched. It was everything we wanted and needed and certainly put our love on a new, deeper plane.

In the night we came together again … with more urgency than the first time. She gave herself completely to me – as I gave myself to her. The next morning she wasn't bashful at all. She walked to the shower with me showing her proud young body as we searched for new ways to express our love.

I found some old articles in the El Paso Times and a few things from the El Paso Police archives. When the Police Department was formed, they took over the functions and files of the Marshal's office.

I finally had all the info on Faleena's "wild young cowboy" and was able to finish his part of the story.

TEXAS RED

Matt Donahue was from Abilene, born on a small ranch outside of town about one hundred and fifty miles west of Fort Worth. He was a handful as a baby, hell on wheels as he was growing up and just plain wild as he grew into a tall, willowy, somewhat gawky young cowboy. His defining characteristic was a mop of unruly red hair that earned him the epithet, Texas Red.

His dad, after a few glasses of rye at the Sundance Pool Hall in Abilene one windy winter evening, was heard to say, "He ain't nuthin' but spit and rawhide - fast with his mouth and faster with his gun."

Not one of the other gents had cause to disagree with him, and eventually the town marshal had to set him down and tell him the way it was going to be.

"Son, you're sure enough a first rate cowboy. You know your dad's ranch won't support more'n your folks and your younger brother. I'm not gonna pull you out of no more scrapes. I hear the Double Deuce south of Sweetwater needs a good wrangler, and you're sure as good with horseflesh as anyone I ever saw."

So Matt rode down to the ranch owned by the widow Meeker. He took care of the remuda on the roundup and broke horses for her for six months before he decided that no self-respecting cowboy would work for a woman … though he did share her bed for several nights before he took off.

He loafed around for a few months … and did a fair amount of running. He got into a shooting scrape in San Angelo over a dance hall girl and in another in Uvalde over whether the dealer had dealt his ace from the top or the bottom of the deck. Wherever he went his moniker chased after him until he even thought of himself as Texas Red.

Winding up in El Paso with a pocketful of money from a lucky streak at the cards, Texas Red was ready for some fun … and maybe the cribs if nothing else showed up.

The second day he was there he made his way to Rosa's Cantina. A bartender had told him of the young beauty dancing there. When he entered Rosa's he saw a lovely apparition dancing with an older man. She saw him as he pushed through the crowds and threw him a smile as her face lit up. When she danced closer she threw him a rose.

His heart captured, he took her arm and walked her back to her table. From then on they were inseparable. He danced every dance with her at night and spent the days showing her the sights of the town. Their love affair captured the hearts of the jaded El Paso citizens. There were a few of the cynical older men that felt that the love of Faleena was their right. And Faleena with her innocent flirting kept their attention.

One night at Rosa's – this was about six weeks into their love – Faleena threw a smile and tossed her glossy black hair to the owner of the largest mercantile in town – and a member of the town council. He tried to cut in on Texas Red and was thrown to the floor in anger. Grabbing a hidden derringer he was shocked to see Texas Red's hidden pistol flashing at him … as the stunning impact of the bullet smashed his heart … he drew his last breath.

Faleena grabbed the stunned Texas Red – he had acted with the instinct that had kept him alive in a tough and wild country – and shouted at him through the sudden din in Rosa's.

"He was important in this town! You have to run. Go to New Mexico and stay away. I love you and I'm sorry for this. Go now and I'll find you."

Just for a moment the young cowboy stood there in silence, shocked by the evil deed he had done. Many thoughts raced through his mind as he stood there; it was clear that he had but one chance and that was to run – to run as fast and as far as he could.

Out through the back door of Rosa's he leaped, out to where the horses were tied. He caught a good one – a tall rangy buckskin gelding - that looked like it had a lot of staying power and would be able to run forever. He jumped up on its back and away he rode, just as fast as he could from the West Texas town of El Paso. He rode far until he reached the bad lands of New Mexico where he waited for his fair Faleena to join him.

What Faleena didn't figure on was the town marshal, Dallas Stoudenmire. Frustrated in his posse's inability to chase down the killer, Texas Red, Stoudenmire decided to keep his eye on Faleena. Every time she rented a horse from the stable he patiently rode a couple of hundred yards behind. He knew that at some time she would go to Texas Red or he would come to her. The man that died was a friend of his … and the marshal would be waiting with some of his friends to kill the cowboy from Abilene.

She finally gave up on trying to find her cowboy lover. Faleena hoped that he would keep going and leave their love behind – even though she knew that would break her heart.

Texas Red knew that back in El Paso his life would be worthless.

Everything he wanted was gone in life; nothing was left. He waited and waited for his Faleena … it had been so long since he had seen the young maiden he loved so deeply. He knew not what had kept her from coming; only that his love was stronger than his fear of death.

One evening he saddled up and rode away - riding alone in the dark. He knew that the coming day might bring a bullet which might find him but for that night nothing was worse than the burning pain in his heart. He had to see his lovely Faleena – no matter what the cost might be.

The next morning he was standing on a hill overlooking El Paso.

He could see Rosa's Cantina far below in the dust of the desert town. His love was strong and it pushed him onward … down off the hill to Faleena he rode.

Off to his right he saw five mounted cowboys; to his left rode a dozen or more. Shouting and shooting he couldn't let them catch him. He had to make it to Rosa's back door. Standing there by the door was the town marshal, Dallas Stoudenmire, with both guns to hand, both guns throwing hot stabs of lead flying at the young cowboy.

Something was dreadfully wrong with him for he could feel a deep burning pain in his side. He was trying to stay in the saddle but Texas Red was feeling heavy, unable to ride.

But his love for Faleena was strong and he rose from where he had fallen. Though he was tired he couldn't stop to rest. He saw a final white puff of smoke from the pistol of the marshal and felt the bullet go deep in his chest.

From out of nowhere Faleena found him, kissing his cheek as she knelt by his side. Cradled by two loving arms that he would die for, just one little kiss and Faleena … goodbye.

A LOVE LIVED – JOHN

María and I had been sure of our love and now were making sure we knew each other. I asked her to move in with me but she felt that "wouldn't look right." I never pushed it; I knew we would be together soon enough.

We did the things young lovers do: the walks in the park, holding hands in movies, talking about our future together. We had one additional thing that brought us closer: our passion for knowing what had happened with Faleena and her Texas Red. It was a sad story, and she cried at what I had written but we both realized that sadness is as much a part of life as happiness is. What we found to be important was to make our joy of love for one another the lynchpin of our lives together. That would give us the strength to deal with any adversities that life might bring.

So we were able to look upon the sorrow of Faleena and Texas Red's tragic tale but it would not be our sorrow. María thought there was much to be learned about life from this story and I had to agree with her.

My writing was working well enough that I would be able to stop teaching when summer came. I started working on a novel based on Dallas Stoudenmire's life – it seems no one had done it before. I thought he was a wonderfully complex man that had lived his life to the fullest.

Maria started writing some on her own. She wrote a short story of a girl that helped her father during the roundup … and fell in love with the son of a neighboring rancher. She submitted it to "Ranch Romances," and it paid more than I would have expected. She used Felina Esmeralda as her pen name. I started thinking that maybe I should try a romance story or two.

We did an engagement party at the ranch in Tierra Amarilla. This time I smiled a lot and did formally ask for María Elena's hand in marriage from her father. We planned the wedding for the summer after her sophomore year of college.

Three years after our marriage my dad died and we moved to the ranch to run it. My sister, Anne, married a lawyer from Palo Alto out in California. We would see her once a year, sometimes two. They did come out for summer vacations with their kids.

Life at the ranch went well for two years and we started our family while there. About a year after we took over the ranch, God blessed us with twin girls: we named them Felina Maria and Maria Esmeralda.

The following year sadness came again. Maria's brother and my best friend, Pablo, died in a freak accident. He was riding his favorite mare in the mountains looking for a cougar and the narrow mountain path he was on collapsed throwing horse and rider down into the canyon.

We decided to sell the ranch in Pecos and I would take over running La Baca at Tierra Amarilla. It was a much larger ranch and made good money year after year. The ranch house was large enough for my mom and for María's parents.

Close to a year and a half after we moved to the larger ranch Juan Pablo was born. I didn't mind at all using the Spanish version of my name, and Pablo held a special place in both our hearts.

Both María and I kept writing. Over time I evolved more and more to non-fiction. I was working on a full-length book focusing on some of the lesser-known gunfighters of the old west. I had also finally started writing a novel about Dallas Stoudenmire. He was surely a fascinating character.

María kept with her romance writing but moved on to full-length novels. She became well known for her accurately researched historical work – and I was proud to assist her.

Life was good for us and whenever María would wear the pearl necklace I'd purchased for her those many years ago in Korea my eyes would get misty. She would notice when that happened and knowing me so well would give me a quiet smile and kiss my cheek or squeeze my hand.

She had been a beautiful girl but was such a lovely woman that sometimes it would take my breath away. I thought Faleena must have been like that.

FALEENA – PART III

The next day at five o'clock, Faleena heard a rifle shot and quickly ran to the back door of Rosa's, which faced the pass over the mountain. She saw her cowboy, her wild-riding cowboy, low in the saddle. Her Texas Red was riding in fast. She ran to meet him, to kiss … to greet him.

He saw her and motioned her back, with a wave of his hand. Bullets were flying, and Faleena was crying with anguish as she saw him fall from the saddle and into the sand. He stood and tried to reach for her when a bullet from the marshal's gun slammed into his chest.

Feleena knelt near him, to hold and to hear him. When she felt the warm blood that flowed from the wounds in his side and his chest he raised his head to kiss her and she heard him whisper, "Never forget me Faleena, it's over. Goodbye."

Quickly she grabbed for the six-gun that he wore. Screaming in anger and placing the gun to her breast, she cried, "Bury us both deep and maybe we'll find peace!"

She pulled the trigger and fell across the dead cowboy's chest. Fulfilling her father's vision those many years ago her breast was torn by the bullet that ripped her white blouse and stained it with the bright crimson of death. Their blood mingled together in the hot dust of the alley behind Rosa's Cantina. Faleena had found the love she had always searched for … and paid a too high price for her love. Faleena would flirt no more.

Dallas Stoudenmire stood over the two bodies; smoke still floating in wisps out of the barrels of his pistols, and Dallas was finally seen with tears in his eyes. He picked up the slack body that had been Faleena and took her away from the hungry prurient eyes of the gathered crowd – away to the house of the young doctor to ready her for her pine coffin. Faleena would be remembered … and forgotten as the years slowly passed.

Out in El Paso, whenever the wind blows
If you listen closely at night, you'll hear in the wind
A woman is cryin', it's not the wind sighin'
Old timer's tell you, Faleena is callin' for him;
You'll hear them talkin' and you'll hear them walkin'
You'll hear them laugh and you'll look, but there's no one around
Don't be alarmed - there is really no harm there
It's only the young cowboy, showin' Feleena the town.