Slocum and the Diamond City Affair (9781101612118) (17 page)

Slocum had gotten herds of cattle back, saved many people's lives, but never talked a woman into going back to a man she'd scorned. Might be a waste of time, but he'd taken the man's money and he never backed down when he said he'd help.

“When I have done all I can or I do get her to consent to come back to you, where will you be?” Slocum asked.

“Hayden's Ferry. I can get up there in one day from Black Canyon City—Arizona Stage Line coach. Wire me there.”

“All right. But just so you know, I think you've sent me on a fool's mission.”

Head downcast, O'Riley agreed with a slow nod. “Maybe, but I really want her back.”

“We'll see.”

They parted and Slocum went back upstairs, laughing as he knocked lightly on Carla's door. She shook her head opening it. “You think that was funny?”

Once inside, he swept her up in his arms and kissed her hard. “Got to be something funny happening. All this long-faced business is not good.”

“I agree. Let's get naked and chase each other around the room.”

“Last one naked is a monkey's uncle.”

“Yes.” And they were off to see who was going to win.

His eyes were wet with tears of mirth as they finally fell on the bed, still laughing. Crazy woman—she not only was a bedful, she had a terrific body. He closed his eyes and shut out the sight of the tin square ceiling tiles. He'd miss her.

21

Two nights later, the stage for Maricopa Wells rattled out of the narrow streets of Tombstone carrying Slocum, with King tied to a lead at the back.

On the dimly lit porch of the stage line, Carla waved good-bye to him. He waved in return, then sat back in the horsehair-stuffed leather bench called a seat. This portion of the trip wouldn't be so bad, but he dreaded the heat in the day ahead. The second leg from Hayden's Ferry to Preskit would be another twenty-four-hour haul north. But high in the pines, he'd find some relief from the desert climate and also, he hoped, Bonnie Jean O'Riley.

The tall saguaro cactus looked like road guards on the slopes and flats of the dry desert. They stopped at the stage station at Picacho Peak first, a place where the Confederates met the California Union Army in the Civil War and the rebs lost. Then the losers went back to El Paso for the rest of the war.

They came up to Maricopa Wells and passed the old house some earlier Indians had built and abandoned—Casa Grande. A peaceful bunch of Indians farmed the irrigated land along the Gila and Salt rivers. They were from the Maricopa, Pima, and Papago tribes, the Salt River Indians. Originally, these people accepted the Catholic Church, supported by the Spanish Crown, and a number of missions were built from Sonora north to Tucson by Father Kino. Other such places were less religiously developed north of there.

Slocum's trip went uneventfully to the ferry that crossed the Salt River and where Old Man Hayden ground barley and corn with a water-powered mill. Slocum arrived there twenty hours after he'd left Tombstone. After a brief rest at a boarding house, he headed back to the stage office to board a different coach. Getting to the stage, he noted another tobacco-chewing driver and he knew he'd have to sit on the off side for the next leg of his journey so as to keep from being soiled from the man's spitting off his perch on top.

A mother and daughter went inside the coach first. Both were attractive women and well dressed. He guessed the mother was hardly past thirty and her daughter eighteen. That made her married and honeymooned at about age twelve. It was a common thing on the frontier for girls to marry young, but they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter.

The mother's name was Emily Dodge and her daughter was Sharon. They conversed friendly-like in voices pitched to carry above the whirl of the wheels, the jingle of the harness, and the plod of the sixteen hooves in the powdery dust. Add the driver's shouts and there was plenty of noise accompanying their ride to the high country.

They, of course, were interested in his background. Married? No. Own a ranch? No.

Have business in Preskit? Yes.

Emily told him he'd love the town and that it was going to be a major city of the West. He didn't care, but agreed with her. Looking at her in the starlight that shone into the coach, he was fascinated by her facial features. Emily was a striking woman. No telling how open she was to dalliance, and Slocum didn't yet know who and where Mr. Dodge was. Her breasts looked inviting under the fine satin dress.

Once on a ride from El Paso to Lordsburg, he'd shared a coach with a woman from Tucson and she'd shared her charms with his dick. With no other passengers in the coach, they spent several hours with him probing her tight vagina and were even bucked off the bench seat to the floor once during the act. They laughed so much about it that when they reached the next stage stop, the driver asked if they'd been drinking.

That night en route to Preskit, the girl asked if he minded if her mother sat with him because she wanted to sleep lying across the back seats. Of course, she'd be in a fetal crouch but said she didn't care; she was tired and wanted to sleep.

Slocum agreed and Emily, trailing the scent of lilacs, thanked him and moved to sit beside him. They absently talked about the price of things and she put her hand on his leg. Her hold was obviously purposeful to him. Her fingers were strong and she pursed her mouth to be kissed. Never a man to deny such a lady's wishes, he kissed her. Then her fingers unbuttoned his fly and undid the buttons on his underwear. They kissed and kissed hard. The woman was quite determined to pull out his pecker and balls, so he slipped his pants down to give her free access to his privates.

Emily went down on her knees and, admiring his dick, winked at him. Her mouth was hot as fire on his erection. When his hard-on reached a stone state, he lifted her up on his lap and, with her straddling his legs, he slipped lower in the seat to make room for his entry. She rose up on her knees, inserted his dick in her wet cunt, and went to bouncing on his lap. A very nice situation for him with her getting hotter and hotter by the minute.

He unbuttoned her blouse, raised her half slip up, and fondled her beautifully shaped breasts. She rode him harder and faster. Then she clutched his shoulders and came with a sharp cry. She wiped her hair back and up from her face and, looking at him with sleepy eyes, shook her head. “Sorry, I am not usually this aggressive.”

Sharon sat up on the back bench, no doubt awoken by her mother's outcry. “Have you two been fucking?”

“I wasn't hogging him,” Emily said, sounding apologetic as she rearranged her clothing on the swaying coach.

Sharon reached over and squeezed his bare knee. “I guess she got all you had.”

“No,” Slocum said, and the girl blinked at him in disbelief.

Without a word, she hauled her mother, who was redressing, onto the back seat to get her out of the way. Swaying from side to side, she wadded her dress up until her bare legs showed up high enough for Slocum to see the patch of black pubic hair. Then she straddled his legs and dropped her bare heinie down on his lap. With her hand behind his neck, she drew his face to hers and her hot tongue sought his mouth.

Out of breath at her own discovery, she whispered, “Holy damn, you ain't dead, are you?”

The rising sword from underneath her soon began poking the gates of her vagina. A smile crossed her mouth when his erection reached her ring, and he gave a small grunt as he slipped inside. She sucked her breath in hard. “Jeez, he's sure big enough. Oh, and you just screwed my mother. What was he like the first time?”

“Now, Sharon, talk like a lady. He was simply wonderful.”

At that point, she began to bounce on his springboard and she closed her eyes to savor his rock-hard invader. “Oh, this is the best I've ever had. Why don't you have a wife? I'd keep you in chains for my own use.”

“You mean you wouldn't even share him with your own mother?”

She shook her head, entirely involved with him opening her blouse and feeling her rock-hard breasts. He really grew fascinated with her skintight tits. She grew even more heated and then, just before she fainted, came all over him. Anxious to get the same pleasures she'd enjoyed, he lifted her off, then put her on her back on the bench seat, folded her like a jackknife, and plugged her pussy with his swollen erection until his gun fired inside her and they both collapsed.

When he got his pants on, she settled on his lap and he raised her up to feast on her exposed breasts. She moaned as he fed on them. Her nipples turned stone hard under his lips and tongue. He at last let her settle in his arms.

With a weary headshake, he exhaled. “Whew, you two ladies are just wonderful.”

“You can come out to our ranch,” Emily offered.

“What about Mr. Dodge?” he asked.

“He died four years ago,” Emily somberly said.

“We'll see. I have some business to handle for a man first.”

Her clothes neatly back in place, Sharon snuggled into the seat beside him for the rest of the night's rocking ride up the Black Canyon City route. She said, “You'll like our ranch.”

“If you two ladies are there, I know I'd love it.”

They both clapped their legs and laughed. “Yes, we are.”

Past sundown, the stage wormed its way to downtown Preskit and hauled up before the stage office. Fresh horses and a new driver moved into place. He kissed both women and went down the block to Whiskey Row for a good steak after stabling his horse at the livery. Sharon's words not to forget them rang in his ears. How could he?

After his steak and a beer, he spoke to the waitress. “You know of a woman named Bonnie Jean who came up here a few weeks ago?”

“She from back East? Short?”

“Yes. I have a recent picture.” He fished it out and she looked hard at it, turning it to the light.

“Yeah, that's her. She's with some racehorse guy.”

He nodded. “You know where they live?”

“Yes, they rented a place west of town, I heard.”

He paid her a dollar and she grinned big. “What else do you need?”

“Nothing tonight. Thanks.”

“I'll be here,” she said and took his money for the meal and tip. Then she did a sashay with her ass as she headed for the ornate wooden bar.

He needed a bath, a clean change of clothes, and some sleep. Then he'd see about looking up Bonnie Jean. At a bathhouse, a Chinaman gave him towels and sent his wooden-shoed wife to get hot water for his bath. She ignored Slocum's nakedness, stood on a chair, and rinsed him with two buckets of water.

“You got big dick.” With her finger she pointed to his privates, then covered her mouth with her small hands and laughed hard.

“You want to try it?” he teased her.

“No, no, way too big for me.” She shuffled away in her wooden sandals.

He dressed, paid her man, and left the bathhouse. A short time later he was back on Whiskey Row, searching the other joints in the block. He sat on a stool in the Dark Horse Saloon drinking a beer and noticed a woman sitting by herself in a booth, crying. She looked a little like the picture of Bonnie Jean. Was that O'Riley's wife?

Uncertain, he took his beer over to stand beside her booth. “Ma'am, is there anything I can do for you?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head full of short curly brown hair. “I did the stupidest thing of my life. I left a good man for another. The one I run off with has now run off on me. Now I ain't got no one.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not if you don't mind a crybaby.” She dabbed at her wet eyes.

“Oh, we all have bad days.” He slipped into the booth beside her.

“My folks hear what I did, they'll disown me.” Loudly she blew her nose.

“Well, let's figure this out, girl. My name's Slocum.”

“Mine's Bonnie Jean O'Riley.”

“Where's he at?”

“You mean O'Riley?”

“He was your husband?”

“Yes. I was so dumb to ever leave him. Course, this last guy only wanted my money and my—oh.” More sniffling and self-pity spilled out.

When the barmaid came around, he ordered two more beers and settled in. She wasn't far from being drunk, and he felt certain that in her state she'd fuck anyone. She soon hugged his arm possessively and sat with her small butt pressed against him. She had nice cleavage, and from what he could see of her, she wasn't bad-looking. He might as well have some fun with her before he turned her back over to O'Riley.

Later that night he and she drove her horses and buggy out to her ranch. She kept passing out and he'd have to wake her up for more directions on the dark road to her rented place. Under his earlier quizzing, she'd said that her other man had left her a few days before, when she'd told him she was broke.

Holding her in his arms as he packed her into the dark house, he realized how small she was. At the front door, he pulled the latchstring and the thick door creaked open. Some starlight crept in, and he saw the rumpled bedcovers on the bed.

He laid her facedown on the bed to undo the buttons on the back of her dress. He planned to have some fun with her. With the back undone, he turned her over and took off her dress. A store-bought expensive one, that was for sure. Then he took off her shoes, slip, and underwear until she was only wearing a corset.

“Cable? That you?”

“You all right?” he asked her.

“Help me out of this—corset too, baby.”

He undid the strings and soon she gave a grunt and he hatched her out of the shell. “Better now?”

“Uh-huh.” She nestled her face in the pillow. “You getting in bed? Oh please do.”

“I'm coming.”

“Yeah, yeah, you said that last night. You never did come to—bed—”

His boots toed off, he undid his gun belt, hung it on a chair. Then he undressed and began running his hands over her flesh.

“Oh, that—feels so good. Oh, yes. . . .”

He fondled her breasts. They were firm but not real big. When he kissed her nipples and ran his fingers through her hair, she snuggled up to him, making
mmm
sounds. Then he moved her short legs apart and ran his hand over her crotch. Her clit was stiff and she raised her legs and spread them apart.

He rose up and pushed the head of his dick inside her vagina, spreading her open. In a sleepy voice she mumbled, “Is that your knee that you're trying to shove in me?”

“No, baby, just me.”

“Okay, but go slow. Oh, did you miss me?”

“Sure, I always miss you.”

She began to breathe harder. “Oh my God, that feels so good.” Then she sighed and started going faster and faster. She got so high she fainted and he finished off on her.

Her screams woke him up. Sunlight was slanting in the open door, and she looked aghast at the sight of him in her bed. She was shaking and holding the sheet up in front of her nakedness. “Who are you?”

“You know my name. We met last night in Preskit. Don't you remember we were married last night?”

Her hand held to her forehead in shock, she shook her head. “I can't have married you. I'm still married to O'Riley.”

He looked in disbelief at her. “You told me you were a widow last night. That's bigamy. Oh my God, you may go to jail for that, and us just married. What'll I do for a wife when you're in prison? Lordy, you might get four years for committing bigamy.”