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Authors: J. R. Roberts

The Gunsmith 385 (7 page)

BOOK: The Gunsmith 385
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TWENTY-TWO

They dismounted when they reached the horse and checked it.

“Dead,” Travis said. “Ridden down.”

“No saddlebags or rifle,” Clint said.

They looked around, saw the barn in the distance. Travis then pointed to the boot prints.

“He headed for that barn.”

“If he wants another horse,” Clint said, “he's not about to buy it.”

“No, he isn't.”

“We better get over there.”

They mounted up and rode hard for the barn.

Even before they reached the barn and reined in, they heard the shouting.

“You no-good sonofabitch! You can't steal my horse.”

It was a woman.

“Inside the barn,” Clint said. He dismounted and ran for the door. Travis ran behind him.

As Clint entered, he saw a man holding a saddle in one hand, and a woman in the other. He pushed the woman so that she fell on her ass, and then turned to the horse he was trying to saddle.

“You bastard!” she yelled. “I'll kill you.”

As she started to get up, Clint rushed past her, grabbed the man by the shoulder, and spun him around. The man obviously thought it was the woman, but when he saw Clint, his eyes went wide. Clint hit him in the face with one punch and the man went down.

Clint turned to the woman, reached down to help her up. Even under those circumstances he couldn't help noticing how lovely she was. In her forties, she was dressed in a man's shirt and jeans, which did nothing to hide how shapely she was.

She smoothed her long, auburn hair—which was in a wild tangle—and said, “Thanks. He just walked in and started to steal one of my horses.”

“You don't have to worry now,” Clint said.

“We've been trackin' him, ma'am,” Travis said. “He won't bother you anymore.”

“What'd he do?”

“Robbed a saloon, shot a friend of mine,” Clint said.

“You gonna take him in?”

“Right after he helps us catch the rest of the gang.”

“Well,” she said, slapping her firm ass to get the dust off it, “you fellas did me a favor, least I can do is return it. It's gettin' late. You're welcome to stay for supper, and then you can bed down in the barn.”

Travis looked at Clint, who nodded, and said to the woman, “Much obliged, ma'am. My name's Clint . . . and this is Travis.” He decided not to give his last name.

“My name's Laura Wells,” she said. “Come on inside. I can give you some coffee now and then cook up some supper.”

Clint looked at Travis.

“You go ahead,” Travis said. “I'll tie this jasper up and see what he can tell us.”

“Okay,” Clint said. “See you inside.”

He followed Laura to the house, watching the way her behind fit her jeans as she walked.

 * * * 

Travis came in while Clint was drinking coffee. He'd already discovered that Laura lived there alone and raised horses.

“Don't have so many now,” she said, “which is why I can't afford to have any stolen.”

“Don't blame you,” Clint said.

Travis sat down and Laura poured a cup of coffee for him.

“Hope you fellas don't mind stew,” she said, stirring a big pot.

“It smells great, ma'am,” Travis said. “And I appreciate this coffee. I've been drinking Clint's trail swill for too long.”

“My trail swill is just fine,” Clint said. “But this
is
better.”

Travis sat across from Clint.

“What did you get from him?” Clint asked.

“He's steamin' mad that his friends left without him when they were in Bronson. He figures they're headed for Waco, and then Fort Worth.”

“We'll have to take him with us when we leave,” Clint said. “We can't leave him here.”

Travis looked at Laura.

“Is there a lawman near here?”

“There's a sheriff about ten miles west of here, town called Millard. He'd take him.”

Travis looked at Clint.

“That's a ten-mile detour,” Clint said.

“We know where they're going,” Travis pointed out. “If we get an early start tomorrow . . .”

“We'll have to think about it overnight,” Clint said.

“Chow's on, boys,” Laura said, carrying two bowls to the table, then fetching one for herself.

They stopped talking and started eating.

TWENTY-THREE

The stew went down smooth, even though the meat was kind of tough. They each had a second bowl, washed down with some more coffee.

“Got some left,” she said. “Should I take it out to him?”

“That's right nice of you, wantin' to feed somebody who tried to steal from you,” Travis said.

“Don't want it to go to waste,” she said “and you don't want him collapsin' from hunger on you.”

“No, we don't,” Clint said. “Travis, why don't you go get him and bring him in here. Let him eat. Maybe if we show him a kindness, he might have more to say.”

“What about the horses?”

“I'll go out and take care of them.”

“I'll show you where to put them,” Laura said.

“Okay,” Clint said. “Thanks.”

The three of them went to the barn. Clint and Laura waited outside while Travis untied Davis and then walked him into the house.

That left the two of them alone.

“You mind if I ask you somethin'?” she asked.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“You like the way I look?”

“Wha—well, yeah, I think you're beautiful.”

“Been a long time since I been with a man,” she said, “and I find you right appealing.”

“Well . . . I'm flattered.”

“Won't take long,” she said. “we can just go right there in the barn.”

“Laura,” he said, “you're obviously not a woman a man wants to rush with.”

She smiled at him and asked, “Is that sweet talk?”

“I guess it is.”

Laura took Clint by the hand and led him into the drafty old barn. “I couldn't wait another second,” she said.

Clint allowed his eyes to linger on the rounded curves of her breasts and the smooth, creamy skin of cleavage displayed by her tight-fitting clothes. She had managed to already undo the top two buttons of her shirt. “I've been thinking of a few things myself,” he told her.

“Like what?”

He answered by moving closer to her and taking her in his arms. She responded without a struggle and kissed him deeply. Her lips parted so she could slip her tongue into his mouth, and her hand wandered between his legs to feel the growing bulge in his crotch. As she massaged him, she kissed him harder. He was surprised when she suddenly pulled away from him, but was encouraged by the mischievous smile she wore.

Tugging at his belt, Laura unbuckled it so she could loosen his pants and pull them down while lowering herself to her knees in front of him. He set his gun down on the ground right next to them. His cock was already hard and it became even harder as she slowly moved her mouth toward it. Clint could feel her hot breath moments before Laura's tongue flicked along the tip of his penis. “That's the way,” he said while sliding his fingers through her hair. “Just like that.”

Laura reached around to hold his hips with both hands while easing him all the way into her mouth. Once her lips closed around the base of his shaft, she began sucking on him noisily. Her head bobbed back and forth as her tongue slid over every inch of his thick member as though she were savoring a stick of candy. Then, she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock until he felt his toes curling inside his boots. It wouldn't be long before she pushed him over the edge, so Clint moved her head away and took a step back.

“What's the matter?” she asked with a pout. “Didn't you like that?”

He helped her to her feet and said, “You know damn well I liked it.” There was a bale of hay nearby. He took her there and spun her around so her back was facing him. Then he anxiously peeled back the layers of material separating him from what he was after. Once all of Laura's garments were removed, he could see the rounded curve of her ass, which led up to the gentle slope at the small of her back. He ran his hands up and down those curves until she began to moan softly like a cat purring in contentment. She placed her hands flat upon the hay bale, and looked back at him over her shoulder.

“Don't make me wait for it,” she said.

Never one to refuse a lady, Clint positioned himself behind her and guided his cock between her thighs. Her warm pussy was dripping wet, and Laura moved her legs apart to allow him to slip inside with ease. When Clint grabbed her hips with both hands, Laura tossed her hair back and grunted while taking every inch of him inside.

He kept one hand on her hip while placing the other at the small of her back. That way, he could feel every one of her movements as she responded to him. When he pumped into her, Laura's muscles tensed. When he eased back out again, she let out a breath and rocked back as if desperate for him to fill her once more. Soon, he found himself pounding into her harder.

“Yes,” she groaned. “God, yes.”

When he buried his cock all the way into her, Clint reached forward to grab a handful of Laura's hair. She dug her fingers deep into the hay bale as he gave her hair a tug and thrust into her again. Soon, Clint could feel her pussy gripping him tighter and her entire body start to tremble. He gave her rump a smack that was just loud enough to be heard before he drove into her again. Laura cried out as she climaxed, but Clint didn't ease up.

First, he placed his hands on her shoulders while continuing to pump into her from behind. Laura was breathless and moaning softly for him to keep fucking her. Then, Clint cupped her breasts with both hands as they swayed in time to his movements. He rubbed her plump tits and teased her nipples, which was enough to drive her to new heights. Finally, he moved his hands back to her hips so he could finish what he'd started.

The sensations continued to build in Clint's body and the heat inside him grew to a blaze when he looked down to see Laura's rounded ass in his hands. She grunted and groaned like an animal, which was music to his ears. Soon, the pressure inside him reached its peak and Clint impaled her one last time.

He straightened up and let out a slow breath as he emptied into her. When he loosened his grip on her, she moved forward until he slipped out of her so she could turn around to face him.

TWENTY-FOUR

They got dressed and she showed him what stalls to put their horses in. She helped him by unsaddling and brushing down Travis's horse, and they put feed out for both of them.

“How do I look?” she asked.

“Great.”

“Out of breath.”

“Maybe,” he said, “but that would make two of us.”

“Think Travis will know what we been up to?”

“Maybe not,” he said, “and speaking of Travis . . . why me, and not him? He's younger, better looking—”

“I went for experience,” she said. “I don't think I made the wrong decision, do you?”

“Definitely not.”

She smiled. They left the barn together and walked back to the house.

As they entered the kitchen, Travis said, “I was just about to bring him back out there.”

“He's done already?” she asked.

“Wolfed it down,” Travis said.

“Okay, then, better take him back out there and tie him up good.”

“I'll stay out there, too,” Travis said. “I'm ready to bed down, and we want to get an early start.”

“Whataya gonna do with me?” Davis demanded.

“We don't know yet,” Clint said. “Just be grateful we fed you.”

“Well, I didn't do noth—”

“Shut up!” Travis said, swatting the back of Davis's head.

“I'll be right out,” Clint said. “One last cup of coffee.”

“Sure.” Travis turned to the outlaw, pulled him up from his seat by the back of his shirt. “Come on, you.”

He pushed him out the door ahead of him.

Laura covered her mouth and looked at Clint.

“What?” he asked.

“You think he knows? And he thinks he's leavin' us alone so we can . . . you know.”

“Well, we already . . . you know . . . I do need to get an early start tomorrow. And I'm tired, for some reason.”

“Maybe,” she said with a mischievous smile, “I should have picked the younger man.”

“Just give me another cup of coffee, woman,” Clint growled at her.

 * * * 

Clint walked back to the barn after his last cup of coffee and found that Travis had set himself up across the building from Davis, who was tied up and snoring.

“I see you got him bedded down all right,” Clint said.

“Yeah, although I don't know how he can sleep so soundly all trussed up like that.”

“It's the sleep of the guilty,” Clint said.

“Huh?”

“A guilty man sleeps soundly because he knows he's guilty,” Clint said. “An innocent man lies awake, worried that he's going to be blamed for something he didn't do.”

Travis frowned and said, “I guess that makes sense.”

“That's the way it was explained to me anyway.”

“Enjoy your last cup of coffee?” Travis asked, changing the subject.

“I did, thanks.”

“You sure you want to sleep out here with us peasants?” Travis asked.

Clint grabbed his bedroll and walked to one of the empty stalls.

“Why don't you just go on and sleep in the house?” Clint asked.

“Hey, the lady never looked at me twice,” the younger man said.

Clint dropped his bedroll down on the floor of the stall. A few feet away was the bale of hay he and Laura had used. He was surprised it didn't bear the outlines of their bodies.

“So what do we want to do tomorrow?” Travis asked, sounding as if he was stretching at the same time.

“Laura says she'll make us breakfast, and then we can get an early start,” Clint said.

“Seems to me you still got time to sneak over to the house—” Travis started.

“Will you go to sleep,” Clint snapped.

“Why don't you both shut up and go to sleep so I can sleep?” Davis whined.

“See what you did?” Clint said to Travis. “You woke up the bad man.”

Clint heard deep breathing from Travis's direction, couldn't believe that the man had fallen asleep while he was talking to him.

BOOK: The Gunsmith 385
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