Read Earthbound: Science Fiction in the Old West (Chronicles of the Maca Book 1) for Free Online Page A

wore boots or the brogan type shoes and they did all manner of exertion in the hot, muggy weather without dropping from heat exhaustion.
    Rolfe was still dressed in his buckskins and moccasins. He had adopted a gray, wide brimmed hat during his trader years rather than the fur caps he had worn as a trapper. They had just filed the deed to the Ortega Spanish land grant and their respective brands. The grant had been purchased from the state as Texas had insisted on retaining all public lands before being annexed into the United States. The deed and filing documents were in MacDonald's valise. At the corner of Congress and Pecan Streets they shook hands.
    “Thank ye, Mr. Rutledge.”
    “My pleasure, Mr. MacDonald. Remember, should you ever need an attorney, we are able to handle all manner of contracts.”
    Rolfe cut a chaw of tobacco and nodded at the man. He had let MacDonald carry the bulk of the conversation. People respected Mac, accent or not, but they took his accent for stupidity or labeled him as Dutch. The latter had ended in fights at times. He had no reason to antagonize this man, and so he let any misconception continue.
    “Now we need to take those legal papers to a safe place,” he said once they were alone on a street crowded with wagons, surreys, and men in business suits hurrying from one location to another. “Then we need to celebrate, but damn if I can think of a safe place where we both can celebrate at the same time.”
    “Neither can I.” Both spoke in German on the theory that fewer people would understand them. “I suggest we eat and then ride out of town before we decide how to do this. We need to go to Arles next and hire a surveyor. Perhaps we can toss a coin to determine who celebrates this evening. We can dine quite well before we decide.”
    “I have a better idea. We celebrate when we get back to St. Louis. Then I can set Frau Rolfe's mind at ease and explain that we will be moving in a year or two. She has enough money until we get there. We aren't expected back until spring.”
    “There is one thing I wish to do before starting back.”
    Rolfe looked at his friend. MacDonald's face was set and he was staring straight ahead.
    “And what would that be, Mac?”
    “I need to visit a whorehouse, a respectable one. If you wish to celebrate this evening, I'll guard our deeds and the remaining funds. I will wait until tomorrow evening.”
    Rolfe considered. Living with a native woman a few months while trapping, never bothered his religious beliefs. The tribe didn't consider the arrangement immoral if he left enough trade goods and meat for the family, but he had avoided whorehouses. He was married and whores usually harbored a disease. He did not wish to take that back to Clara. MacDonald had visited houses when flush, but for some reason never seemed to contact one of the diseases, not even clap.
    “Why don't we both go to the whorehouse? I'll have a drink while you finish your business and then we can ride out and take turns guarding each other.”
    “You might be drunk by the time I finish. I intend to visit every whore in the establishment, perhaps more than once.”
    “That's a pipe dream, Mac. No man can do that.”
    They entered their hotel and collected their belongings for the trail. The stables were a few blocks away, set among a wainwright, a blacksmith, tanners, and lard merchants. The stench was everywhere, but no one seemed to notice anymore than they noticed the grey air drifting over the city from people cooking with wood or coal.
    A few blocks away from the stable, they stopped at a large restaurant where men wearing suits were seen entering and leaving. They ordered steaks and hash browns with gravy. Both ordered beer.
    “I have heard they have seafood and much fancier houses down in San Antonio or Galveston.” MacDonald's voice had a longing in it.
    “We don't have time to go that far. What's the matter with you Mac? You're acting like you want to fling away