Ramon stood up, red faced and furious. “Stop it, idiot!”
“Don’t call me a idiot, ya half-breed Mexican ass.”
“Mestizo! He glared at her as he wiped the water from his face. “You’re so damned dumb you can’t even insult a person properly. Mes-ti-zo. Mes-ti-zo. How many times must I tell you, you stupid bitch.”
He turned and dug through the boat’s cabin and found a couple of trade knives. He walked in the direction of the garden and remained gone several minutes.
Hilola sat by the fire and dried off and dressed as she waited for him to return.
“Where’d you go?”
“To pay the Indians.”
She laughed and looked at him as if he were stupid. “You chump. The deer probably eat more than we took. Those savages would never miss it.”
“Don’t call them that. Savages!” He looked her over. “Who’s calling who a savage?”
He packed up and got on board. He looked her in the eye. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“I’m not ready to leave yet.” She threw another bit of wood on the fire which Ramon had thoroughly extinguished, and looked back at him defiantly.
“I don’t have time for this nonsense, Hilola. Come on, we’re wasting daylight.”
“Who the hell died and left you king of this company? Sure weren’t Jimmie.” She laughed out loud at the thought of Jimmie in his watery grave. “He’d have a fit if he could. Which he can’t ‘cause he’s dead.” She threw her head back and screamed at the sky. “Dead! D-E-D, dead!”
Ramon stood, glaring for a long moment. He was furious with her. He considered manhandling her and pulling her back on board so they could move on, but he thought better of it. She was wild and unpredictable, this one. He wondered who’d come out ahead in a fight.
Allingham; Desperate Ride