by Jake Logan
“Damn their worthless hides. Wish I’d got here sooner. Well, I have a better place for you. Now get to cooking.” He looked over at her. “Weren’t there eleven in the bank?”
“Back then there were. Harold broke his neck falling off a bucking horse the second day. Garcia got to fighting with a whore in Hayes over the price she charged him. She pushed him out the second-story window and he broke his back in the fall. Neal died from eating poison mushrooms. Thank God, there were only seven here that night.”
He hugged her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Those bastards need to be hung.”
“Instead of me.”
“Right, get that out of your mind.”
She halfheartedly agreed and went to cooking. Her coffee was good, and the bacon and beans were wonderful. When they’d finished, she put their dirty dishes on the dry sink. “The next fool comes by can wash them. You have any soap?”
“Sure. You need some?”
“I have needed some since he took me from the house, behind him on his saddle, and we rode like hell for Hayes.”
Slocum went to his saddlebags, fetched the soap and a towel, and handed them to her.
“You good at soaping backs?”
“I have been known to do that quite well.”
“The wind is up, and the mill’s pumping good enough. I’ve used it a time or two, but without soap you don’t get clean. Let me warn you, the water is damn cold.”
They both undressed, and she swung the pipe over to wash under the outflow. She had a neatly shaped body, stark white in the setting sunlight. Her breasts were not too large and were topped with silver dollar–size nipples, and they sure looked tempting to squeeze. She walked back to where he stood undressed, waiting for her.
The spout of water doused her down and she gave a soft gasp, “Oh.”
He handed her the soap, and she used a rag to soap up. He lathered the bar and his hands to soap her back and then her lovely derriere. She hadn’t lied. The water was damn near icy, and he was getting splashed with it while she washed. The job was a tough one, but someone had to do it. He slid his hands under her arms, reached around, and squeezed her bare breasts.
“Anyone ever tell you that you are lovely?”
“No one ever did that.”
The cold water cascaded down his back, but he didn’t care. She leaned back into the flying water going down over her head and he leaned in and kissed her. She twisted around until she hugged him to her. “My God, Slocum, I am real glad that rope broke.”
He pressed his flank against her and agreed. “It was our day.”
“Reach up and swing that pipe back over the tank. I’m freezing.”
He did, and the surge of the water from the pipe soon spilled into the large tank. They dried themselves on his towel until it was too wet to dry either one, but the low humidity dried them as they ran for the house. She fluffed her hair to try to dry it, and laughed.
“Why didn’t I marry you?” she asked. “You are an exciting, don’t-give-a-damn man.”
“You probably married right. He just went wrong.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t right. He sired children in other women and lied to me.”
“Hey, you want to do this, or forget it?”
“Do it. What have I to lose? You’ve been lots of fun so far.”
“Get on the bed. I’m coming.”
She held her arms out to receive him. His knee on the bed, he knew this would be nice. The physical energy in their naked connection spun them into a whirlpool that took them to high mountain peaks and down slick snowslides to the end. Both were breathless and completely exhausted on their backs side by side, squeezing each other’s hand.
They slept locked together and woke to more relations in the predawn. Dressed, and after a breakfast of cheese, crackers, and coffee, they saddled up and threw her few things in a carpetbag that he tied on his saddle horn. He lifted her up behind the cantle, and they set out on Bull for Hiram Yates’s HKP Ranch.
It was dark when they arrived, and Hiram hailed Slocum from the house. “That you, Slocum?”
“Yeah. I found you a cook.”
A cheer went up, and the crew shouted and ran out of the house to see her. She pulled on his shirtsleeve. “You sure I’m going to be safe here?”
“A little boisterous now, but they’re great guys.”
He swung her down and stepped off his horse. “Gentlemen, this is Diane Stokes. She needs a job and I fetched her for your cook.”
“Howdy, ma’am, we’re sure proud to have you here.” Hiram stepped forward with his Stetson in his hand. “The boys and I are shocked. Slocum said he’d look for a cook for us, and now he is back in just two days. We’ll fix private quarters for you to get some peace and quiet. And as pretty as you are, we’ll sure all be proud to have you here.”
She chewed on her lower lip, then spoke up. “Mr. Yates, it shall be my pleasure to be your cook.”
A cheer went up from the men on the porch.
She nodded to them, and Slocum herded her into the house.
“Better look it over, this is your kitchen and dining hall.”
“They act pleased I came.” She ran her fingers across the dry sink.
He nodded. “They will be pleased.”
“I owe you a lot. Only you could have done this for me.”
“I’ll explain your situation to Hiram. You’ll be safe here. If it was me, I’d change my name.”
“I never even thought of that.”
“They’ll understand.”
“Slocum, I know you won’t come back, but I appreciate all you’ve done.”
Hiram joined them. “Until we get a private room built, you can sleep in my bed in there.”
“I won’t take your bed.”
“Yes, you will.” He smiled. “Slocum, you did well. We’ll care for her.”
“There are some mean men in her past, who treated her badly, but her heart is good and she’ll treat you like kings.”
“I have some clean sheets for your bed,” Hiram said.
Later, Slocum slept alone in his own bedroll.
In the morning Diane made them breakfast of pancakes, syrup, and oatmeal. She also told Hiram she’d make him a list of groceries she’d like to have bought.
“Anything you need, we’ll go get,” Hiram said. “Your food is wonderful.”
“Well, you guys owe me. See you again sometime,” Slocum said. He winked at her and she winked back. The ranch had a cook, and he was off to find Grosbeck.
He reached the edge of North Platte in two hard days’ riding and stopped off at Verna Lee’s HHH ranch. She was a large woman in her late forties. Her beauty still shone when she came out on the porch and waved at him to get up there.
“Slocum, where have you been?”
“Oh, here and there. I’m looking for an outlaw named Grosbeck. He shot my friend.” Holding Verna Lee in his arms, he hugged and kissed her.
“I’ve not heard of him before.”
“He operated up near Fort Robinson.”
“Oh, that’s why. That’s a far piece from here.”
“They say he’s around here to rob a local bank.”
“What does he look like?”
“A big man, swarthy complexion. He’s not Mexican or Indian. A bully and worthless.”
“He killed your friend?”
“Thought he had me, too. He left me for dead.”
“Harley, put his horse up and grain him. He’s my guest.” She dismissed her man, who’d come to check on who stopped by, and he took Bull away to care for him.
Her arm over his shoulder, Verna Lee guided him inside the house with a great breast poked in his side. Once they were inside, she took his hat and hung it on the wall hook.
Her hand was out for his six-gun, and he
unbuckled it with a grin. He redid the buckle and hung it on the next peg.
“You sure won’t need to shoot me, darling. Or force me to go to bed with you.” She smiled.
“Not today. You know some men I can hire to look for this guy around town?”
“I’ll send someone to town and have them here after supper. Is that soon enough?”
“Absolutely.”
She kissed him and let him up the wide, curving staircase to the four-poster bed. “Wait a minute, I need to tell my housekeeper about those men you need. Take off your clothes and relax.”
From the upstairs railing, she spoke to a person she called Adelle and rattled off some names for her to have there that evening—she had work for them to do. The voice from downstairs replied that she’d do that. Then, in a rustle of her stiff dress, Verna Lee reappeared in the bedroom.
“My dear. My dear, I was all ready to take a nap, when I saw you come riding down the road. Land’s sakes, I didn’t need any sleep, if you’re going to entertain me.”
He gathered her in his arms and kissed her. A bedful of woman, she could rouse any man into enjoying her ample body. A widow twice over, she owned almost an empire of grass north of the Platte River. His fingers worked on the small buttons to free her of the dress, and she told him how much she had missed him and asked when he would settle down there and let her spoil him in exchange for his services.
“My land, darlin’, some two-bit outlaw robbed a bank in Abilene and used my name. That has a Denver detective agency on my tracks looking for me, and then this Grosbeck, who killed Sam Clover, is planning to rob another bank here.”
She stepped out of the dress and waved his concerns away. “If they are in the area, you’ll soon know those men’s whereabouts.”
All kissy-faced, her voluptuous body was soon on her back atop the bed. A soft Nebraska wind swept his bare skin as he stood over her. He closed his eyes and imagined pleasure’s path ahead, then put his knee on the bed. Here comes excitement and lots of womanhood that quickly would turn into a raging volcano. Hold on to his butt, this would be a real ride, and he went forth.
Her cries aloud and movements swirled his mind and gave his muscles the strength to please her. The pleasure of riding high, with her under his muscle-corded belly, ignited the lightning charges of a powerful storm. Their lovemaking went long and ended like a soaring Mexican rocket, bursting in a shower of stars that fell to the ground.
They both napped afterward.
Then he bathed and shaved while she dressed. After dressing, she took charge of the supper event as if a king might arrive any moment and things must be just so to suit him. After they ate, the men she’d sent for arrived, and she had Slocum describe the man he looked for.
The men seated around the room consisted of a mustached gambler, Riley Cornwall; Herb Knight, a man in his forties who owned the largest saloon in town; and finally, Coburt Flanagan, a thin man with a hard face who looked like he had little patience for anyone in his way.
Slocum began, “Grosbeck is a big man, graying hair, and wears a vest, plus a blue kerchief. His hat was once an expensive one, and he may have a new one by now. He’s loud and a bully. His men, I have never really seen, so they would be just hard cases. He operates a ring of holdup men committing robbery, horse stealing, plus raping white women and squaws.
“Billy Hank Spurlock is the one who robbed the Abilene, Kansas, bank and told them he was me. I have never met the man, but would silence him for his usage of my name during that robbery.”
The men chuckled.
“There’s a poster on him at the sheriff’s office,” Flanagan said. “He’s another big man. I haven’t seen him in town, but I believe the first man you mentioned—Grosbeck—is over in Willows right now. That’s a camp of shacks and lodges of Indian whores, trash, and bums down on the Platte.”
The other two nodded.
“This Spurlock, you’ve never seen him?” Cornwall asked.
“No. He kidnapped a woman and, in the end, let his gang of men rape her.”
“Ever learn why he used your name during the robbery?”
Slocum shook his head. “I’ve never met him as far as I know, but he wanted them to think it was me.”
“I can get any poster on him that Sheriff Miles has and explain to Lloyd that you aren’t him,” the saloon man said.
Verna Lee thanked him and then turned to Slocum. “That should lower the pressure on you,”
“It will a lot. Thanks.”
“I can be ready anytime to go down there in those hovels and try to find Grosbeck,” Flanagan offered. “It’s a pretty tough place.”
“I can imagine. Sunup tomorrow?” Slocum asked.
“Meet me at Knight’s Texas Saloon. I’ll be on the porch.”
“I’ll do that.”
“When you two come back, I’ll have a poster for this guy who uses your name—Spurlock, wasn’t it?” asked Cornwall.
“Yes, that’s the one he used when he wasn’t Slocum.”
“You all have things to do,” she said. “Like I said earlier, this man is a longtime friend and what he says is the truth. My late husband, Dower, and Slocum brought cattle up the Chisholm Trail together. For all his past service to me, I’d do anything he needs to make things happen.”
The others nodded and shook Slocum’s hand, wishing him success in his endeavor. When they left, each one hugged Verna Lee.
“Was that the help you needed?” she asked when they had ridden off.
“Exactly. Thanks a lot. I’ll find them. If I can locate Grosbeck and settle with him, it will be something over for me.”
“No telling where Spurlock could be. But Flanagan is a good man and has handled some of my problems for me. He’s tough, too.”
“I can see that. We better get some sleep. Morning is going to come early for me.”
“Will four in the morning be early enough?”
“Fine.”
“I’ll get things set. You go upstairs and don’t fall asleep before I get there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, knowing your sugar foot ways, it might be your last night to sleep with me for a long while.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Go on.”
They had a quick encounter in bed, and he had no trouble seeking sleep. But the wakeup was harder to shake. He dressed and went down to eat the meal Verna Lee’s housekeeper, Adelle, had fixed. Verna Lee was there to talk to him, and they had a short conversation.
“I hope you find him today.”
“Me, too. Great food, Adelle. And thanks for all your help, Verna Lee. This was great.”
“Glad you like it. Come back again. We have lots of food.”
“Amen to that,” Verna Lee said.
“Will you come back?” Adelle asked.
“Depends. If I get him, I will. Otherwise, I’ll be on his trail.”
“I understand. Good luck,” Verna Lee said. “Adelle and I will be glad if you can return.” She smiled.
“I will, if I can.” He rose, and she traipsed behind him in her robe. His pistol strapped on and his hat on his head, he kissed her and went out the front door. Her man stood at the yard gate with Bull’s reins. Slocum thanked him and checked the girth. Satisfied, he swung on board and touched his hat brim to Verna Lee on the dark porch and her man standing nearby.
On the road, he short loped to the bridge and crossed the river flowing like ink in the starlight. He soon was at the saloon, and Flanagan came off the porch to meet him. The thin man unhitched his horse and then in a low voice said, “I believe he’s there right now.”
“Sounds good.”
They rode down into the head-high willows area along the river that held shacks, tents, and lots of derelicts. Some clotheslines were strung, so they were careful not to get unhorsed by them.
Flanagan dismounted and said they should go on foot from there. Slocum stepped down and tested his pistol to be certain it would easily come free of his holster. He nodded to Flanagan and took the lead.
The tent-shack Flanagan pointed to sat in the starlight. There were some horses snoring in a pole corral nearby.
Flanagan spoke softly. “According to my information, there are three men and a woman in there. I’ll go around front.”
“Let me go. I’ll kick in the door and order them to get up. Hands high.”
“All right. I’ll watch, so they don’t get out this side.”
“Good. They will either wilt or fight.”
Flanagan agreed.
Slocum moved around the front and stepped to the door. With his boot he smashed it in. “Hands high or die.”
“Fuck you!” Followed by the flash of a shot, so Slocum thumbed back his hammer and fired three in that direction. A hysterical, naked woman ran out screaming past him. Flanagan was shooting from out back. Slocum knew he couldn’t see anything in the cave-like house, so he ran around the shed. Flanagan was on the ground, and he knelt beside him.
“You hit bad?”
“I don’t think so, but it damn sure hurts a lot.”
“Can you ride a horse?”
“With help.”
“Did that big guy come by you?” asked Slocum.
“Yeah. He shot me. I think I winged him.”
“Good. I’ll get you to the doctor. I’m going after our horses.”
He hurried to get them, afraid the outlaws might have left on them. But the horses were there. He unhitched them and ran back.
In the darkness, he helped Flanagan to his feet and helped load him in the saddle, then Slocum took off for medical help leading the thin man’s horse. Flanagan was still hanging on when they reached the edge of town.
“Where’s a doctor?” Slocum asked some laborers headed for work.
“Two blocks down on the right.”
“Thanks.” He hurried on to stop before a two-story dark house with a sign that said DOCTOR.
He dismounted and told Flanagan to stay in the saddle. “Help! I have a man shot out here. Help me.”
A man in a nightcap stuck his head out an upstairs window. “I’m coming down. Right now.”