Winning Texas by Nancy Stancill

Enjoying dinner and TV in the guest house, ” she said. “ That ’ s where our visitors stay, so that no one will see them. They ’ re recovering from their long journey. ”
    Daria ’ s family in El Salvador ran a high-end coyote business, bringing mostly women up through Mexico and into Texas. When women came to Daria, she would find places for them, mostly in the topless clubs or restaurants in South Texas. More recently, she had placed a select few at Juliana ’ s ranch.
    “ You ’ ll meet them tomorrow morning, ” she said. “ I have explained Juliana ’ s business to them. They are eager to join her for a year, or however long their services are required. They want to make money to bring their children and relatives to Texas. When they complete their deal, she will pay them $1,000 each. She has already given me their transportation fees. ”
    “ All that ’ s between you and Juliana, ” Krause said. “ I ’ m just taking them to the ranch. ”
    She nodded and the three of them chatted until dinner was served. After a meal of roasted fish with black beans and rice, Daria brought liquors and cigars and said good night.
    Krause and Spud talked about their businesses for a while, but the conversation took a more philosophical turn as the light dimmed into a quiet starlit sky.
    “ This is a damned fine piece of Texas, ” Spud said, puffing on a particularly odoriferous cigar. “ But it ’ s getting ruined like everything else. ”
    “ What ’ s getting ruined? Laredo, Texas, the United States or the world? ”
    “ All of the above, though I mainly meant Texas, ” Spud said. “ A man can ’ t create anything great like we did. Too much interference by government bureaucrats. ”
    “ You sound like those secessionists, ” Krause said. “ Don ’ t tell me you ’ ve joined the Nation of Texas. ”
    “ Them folks had the right idea, but messed up everything with that stupid shootout. Got themselves in a peck of trouble that will never be put right. ”
    Krause smiled and leaned forward, emboldened by the brandy. “ I just joined a group in the Hill Country that has a better idea. They ’ re going to turn the Hill Country into German Texas. ”
    “ German Texas? What the hell is that? ”
    “ You know the Hill Country is the prettiest part of Texas, ” Krause said. “ But it ’ s always been underdeveloped. ”
    “ That ’ s true. Never been any good clubs up there, ” Spud said. “ Probably have more cows than girls. ”
    “ That ’ s going to change, ” Krause said. “ If we get our way, we can make it a huge tourist attraction – kind of like a Vegas in Texas. ”
    Spud reacted with one of his odd outbursts. His entire body shook with soundless paroxysms, followed by cascades of braying laughter. Krause found it irritating and kind of scary, but didn ’ t say anything.
    “ Are you smoking the peyote again? ” Jarvis said. “ Vegas in Texas ain ’ t going to happen. ”
    “ It ’ ll be better than Vegas, ” Krause said. “ You ’ ll see. You and I could go together and create something big. Clubs, gambling ranches, all kinds of German-themed stuff will be up for grabs. ”
    “ Do your German-Texas buddies know about your Vegas dreams? Bet they ’ re counting on cute little Alpine villages, not strip clubs. ”
    “ Maybe, but they ’ ll see it my way, ” Krause said. “ Money talks. ”
    Jarvis leaned back in his chair, puffed on his cigar and looked at the stars. Krause thought he ’ d gone to sleep before he finally spoke.
    “ You ’ re still young enough for big dreams. But I ’ ll stay here and enjoy my piece of Texas until it ’ s spoilt. ”

CHAPTER 11
     
    The next morning, Krause left early after packing the three Salvadoran women and their sparse belongings into the SUV. The women seemed in good spirits, preferring to sit together in back and talk. That was fine with him, because he never had much to say to strangers, even less if he had to speak in