Jim Saddler 5

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Jim Saddler 5 Page 12

by Gene Curry


  That evening, still about forty miles from Fort Bridger, I told them what they could expect if they were captured. I couldn’t tell them to end their lives with their last bullet. People cling to life as long as possible, even if the only way to do it is being chained to a bed in a dirty whorehouse in Chinatown or Juarez. Steiner and Rita sat together listening to me, while Iversen stared at them from the far side of the fire.

  Claggett prayed for divine guidance. I would have settled for a Gatling gun or a troop of cavalry. Claggett’s praying did nothing to cheer us up. He said the important thing was to die with a clear conscience and love for the Lord in your heart. He urged the wicked amongst us to repent while there was time. I guess that meant Rita, Steiner, Culligan and me. It was strange, and somehow heartening, to see Steiner and Rita exchanging smiles in the midst of all this gloom.

  I had given up any ideas about Rita and me after she became friendly with Steiner. I had been looking forward to some good nights with her. Now, somehow, that didn’t seem right. I could manage until I found another woman, a safe woman who wouldn’t bring on a showdown with Claggett. That was the last thing I wanted, and I was ready to go womanless for the rest of the trip, a horrible thought though that was. I just wished Iversen would take the same attitude; but he was doing no such thing. The stupid son-of-a-bitch wanted to poke Rita and meant to do it.

  Except for those who had to stand guard, the women drifted off to their wagons to sleep. I could have slept before my watch, but I didn’t feel like it. Instead, I sat by the fire and poked at it with a stick. Rita had gone to her wagon, and Steiner was guarding the cows. We were in high plains country, and the night was cold. I put more wood on the fire, wondering how many of us would have to die. Some of us would. That had to happen, and there was a fair chance that none of us would make it to California.

  Claggett’s preaching hadn’t put me in a gloomy mood. I was already in one before he started mouthing off to God. I knew God would get good and sick of Claggett, if ever he got to heaven. I felt there ought to be something I could do to get these people through. Right then I couldn’t think of a goddamned thing, though. I sat there until it was time to stand my watch. As I sat in the darkness, I felt the restlessness of the women sleeping uneasily in their wagons. Nothing happened during my watch, and I was gloomy as ever by the time it ended.

  I was bedding down for the night in a sandy hollow near the wagons, when something happened to cheer me up.

  Chapter Twelve

  This time no knife blade nicked me awake, and there was no surprise because I saw her coming. I was surprised but not the way I was with Maggie. It was Rita. She came down into the hollow with no attempt at concealment. She was a tall girl and threw a long shadow in the moonlight.

  Without a word, she got under the blankets with me and bundled us up good, because the night was chilly. “This sand is a lot softer than that wagon bed,” she said. “You worry too much, Saddler. You ought to be asleep by now.”

  I wanted her very much, but I had to speak my mind. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t owe me a thing. I thought you and Jake—”

  “You bet your life we have something,” Rita said. “We have something now, and it’s going to get better if we manage to stay alive. I owe you more than you think. There’s only one thing. This will be the first and last time for us. You understand what I mean?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Jake says it’s all right,” Rita said, unbuttoning my pants and fondling my cock. It came up hard and straight as a flagpole.

  “Jesus Christ!” I said. “You mean you talked it over with him!”

  Rita squeezed my balls gently. “Of course I talked it over with him. I saw the way you looked tonight, all down-hearted, no woman to bed with, and I said straight to Jake, ‘Jake, I got to do something for Jim Saddler. He’s gone out of his way to show kindness to a whore and a Wandering Jew, and it ain’t—isn’t—right for him to look the way he does.’ ”

  Rita had my pants off by now. My shirt followed. “What did Jake say?” I asked.

  Rita laughed softly. “Jake said he was thinking the same thing, only there was no way he could say it to me. Jake said you were a good friend; it was only right to cheer you up. Listen to me—it’s all right. Jake is a man of the world, and he’s making me a woman of the world. Jake wants me to give you the best time you ever had in your life.”

  I started to unbutton her dress. “You convinced me,” I said.

  My rod was like iron as I drove into her. God! How I needed to do that. Rita knew all the tricks, but this was no mechanical whore I was bulling but a real woman. She was a tall girl, so I was able to suck her breasts as I went in and out of her. She groaned as my tongue tickled her nipples. Jake Steiner was a lucky man. At that moment, so was I. She gasped as she came. She was one of those women who come quickly and easily and can go all night with the right man. This might be my last fuck on earth, I reasoned, and I put everything I had into it and into her.

  All the tension of weeks of danger had built up in me, begging to be released. I felt my balls tighten as I got ready to shoot my load. When I did, I shuddered from head to toe. It was that good! As my juice volleyed into her, I felt the band of tension that had been squeezing my head loosen up. I felt like I would never stop coming.

  “Don’t take it out yet,” Rita said gently. “I’ll make you hard again. It’s warm with you on top of me and feels good.”

  “Same here,” I said. “Many thanks to you and Jake.”

  “You’re entirely welcome. If anybody deserves a good time, you do.”

  “I’m glad you and Jake feel that way.”

  “Don’t make jokes about it. You made it happen for Jake and me. Or is it Jake and I?”

  “You got me there,” I said. “Better ask Jake. He’s the grammar expert around here. Jake is all right. I’m glad he knows what we’re doing. I’d hate to sneak behind his back.”

  “Nobody’s sneaking. I told you I told him. Or he told me. Same difference. Saddler, fucking is great, but it’s no great drama, to use Jake’s words. Jake says he can’t see one person killing another because of fucking. Like he says, there’s no reason why a woman that truly loves her husband shouldn’t go off once in a while and get fucked by another man. ‘Where’s the harm in that?’ Jake says.”

  “Jake is right,” I said. “Too bad the rest of the world doesn’t agree with him. But let’s not talk sex, let’s do it. If this is to be our only night together, we don’t want to waste it talking.”

  “Right you are,” Rita said.

  So there was no more talking for a long while. Rita had been a whore, and would be again when he reached San Francisco, and she knew every trick in the book. Jake was a lucky man to have such a woman. She sucked me off in a way that made me shake all over. I returned the compliment by tonguing her to a fare-thee-well. I guess with an ordinary paying customer she would be mechanical enough—a whore can’t respond to every man she dicks—but we were good friends and that made the difference. There was no need to hurry, no need to be nervous since she was pleasuring me with Jake’s blessing. And even old man Claggett couldn’t interfere because Rita wasn’t one of his flock of redeemed whores. That was the best part of it, to be able to screw a good-looking, willing woman without fret or fuss.

  Rita let me do anything I wanted. And anything she did to me was fine. We were friends so there was very little we didn’t do. She sat on my face while I licked her. She came in salvos, and there was nothing fake about it. This woman had saved my life, and I should have been the one who was grateful—I was grateful—but she wanted to please me more than anything else. I sure as hell wanted to please her.

  We talked in whispers though there was really no need. “You surely like your women, don’t you?” Rita said. “I mean that as a compliment. Most men don’t know how to treat women. You do.”

  “I surely do like women,” I said. “Of all the pleasures in life women are the greatest. What would we do
without them?”

  “Where would women be without men,” Rita said. “A nice man with a big cock. I don’t care if he’s rich or poor as long as he treats me nice.”

  “And has a big cock.”

  Rita laughed quietly. “Well, it’s the truth. I’ve seen every kind of cock there is. Big ones are best, no matter what they say. There may be nothing but fatback and beans on the kitchen table, but if you can look forward to going to bed with a big dick you don’t worry about the same poor boy food for breakfast. How are you feeling, Saddler? You had enough of me or would you be wanting more? Just asking, no hurry. Jake says it’s all right for me to stay all night. I can sleep in the wagon, but what about you? Comes morning you don’t want to be walking in your sleep.”

  With my hands roving over her body I said, “I can sleep anytime. This is better than sleep.” And with that I rolled her on top of me and she put my cock in for me. She straddled me with my cock sticking straight up into her. She lifted herself up and down while I took my ease and let her do the work. Pushing up and down on my rigid cock made her gasp and she came several times. I came after she stretched out on top of me and squeezed her legs together and tightened her cunt muscles. It was like being squeezed by a fur-lined vice. I came until I felt drained.

  “Many thanks to you and to Jake,” I said sincerely. “If I don’t get another fuck between here and California, this ought to hold me.”

  “You’ll manage to get a few fucks,” Rita said. “Knowing you, it’s bound to happen. I never saw such a bunch of horny women in my life. You’ll make out all right.”

  “I’m satisfied with what I have now. I doubt if there’s a woman in the train as good as you. This has been one hell of a night, thanks to you and Jake.”

  “Jake is good people,” Rita said. “If we live through this, we’re going to open the finest bordello in Frisco.” Jesus Christ! This night was full of surprises. I had half expected her to say that she and Jake were going to settle down in a rose-covered cottage, with Jake working at some regular, honest-john job, and Rita cooking up hearty suppers for her hard-working husband.

  “I hope you make it,” I said.

  “Don’t say it like that. Of course we’ll make it. Jake has good ideas but can’t get himself organized. He starts a thing but never finishes it. With me it will be different. I’m not Pennsylvania Dutch for nothing. Jake says the word for us is methodical.”

  My cock was getting hard again; I’d be ready to go again in a few minutes.

  “That’s what I’ve always heard,” I said. “You get things done. But how about money? You won’t get far without money to make the right start.”

  I felt Rita’s body stiffen with anger. “I’m not doing this because I want money from you. If that’s what you’re thinking, you can go—”

  I held her tight. “No dirty talk,” I said. “I know you’re not. Don’t be a horse’s ass about this.”

  “What about your dirty language?”

  “It’s all right for me, not for a lady. Now simmer down, and let’s talk sensible.”

  “All right.”

  “How far would a thousand dollars take you in Frisco?”

  “A thousand would be more than enough. Jake is good with his hands, ’cause of all the trades he’s worked at. I can make the curtains, do lacework. We can make a thousand look like ten times that much. You’d get your money back in no time at all. With interest.”

  “I won’t come around breaking down your door to get it,” I said.

  “But we want you to come around,” Rita said. “You’ll have the pick of the house. Jake has this wonderful idea of making it what he calls the House of All Nations. Sweet young girls from all over. French, Mexican, Irish, Japanese, South Sea islanders—whatever you want.”

  “You talked me into it,” I said. “I’ll be there anytime I’m in Frisco.”

  “Different rooms decorated according to the different nationalities,” Rita said. “That’s Jake’s idea, too. What do you think of it?”

  “Well, I’ve never had a South Sea islander,” I said. Rita hugged me. “I’m so happy, I could kiss you.”

  “Why don’t you,” I said. Then we fucked again. Down there Rita had muscles I didn’t know women possessed, and she used all of them on me. It went on like that for hours. This was a night to remember. And wouldn’t you know it, she managed to get me up again, except that the only way she was able to do it was to roll me over on my back and take my cock in her mouth. I really didn’t think she’d be able to make me come again but, by God, she did it, working on the head of my cock with her mouth, tickling it with her tongue. Gradually, I got hard again. A soft hard-on at first. Rita knew how to make it firm. She took all my big cock into her mouth and sucked it until I was ready to go crazy. I was slow in coming, but she was patient with me. Then I came with a gasp loud enough to wake the preacher, if he hadn’t been such a sound sleeper. I soon drifted off into an even deeper sleep.

  I hadn’t been asleep very long when Jake Steiner’s yelling woke me with a start. Jake wasn’t a shouter, and at first I thought we were under attack. But it was no such thing; there wasn’t an enemy in sight. Jake was standing by the front of Iversen’s wagon and yelling at him to come out and fight like a man.

  The fight exploded while I was running up the hill to the wagons. Iversen came out of the front end of the wagon like a human bullet in a circus. I don’t know how old Jake was; he must have been close to forty. Iversen, I knew, wasn’t much past thirty. Iversen’s weight struck Jake and knocked him down. They rolled in the dirt trying to throttle each other. I straightened my gun belt but made no attempt to stop the fight. It was best to get it over with. After that it could go one of two ways. The bad feeling could get worse, or maybe it would just wear itself away.

  They were back on their feet, trading solid body punches you could hear at a distance. Jake was a chunky man, but there was plenty of muscle under the lard. Iversen moved faster than Jake, but what he lacked was the real roughness of the Wandering Jew. Old Jake had taken too many hard knocks to be downed by a beached sailor with brass buttons on his coat. Still and all, Iversen was a fair fighter. He had some idea of professional fisticuffs. Jake had none, but he took his punishment and gave back more than he got. I was waiting for Reverend Claggett to show up. I looked around, but he was nowhere in sight.

  A hard right from Jake broke some of Iversen’s front teeth, causing his mouth to bleed. Iversen’s lady-catching smile wouldn’t be half as charming after this. Anger made him careless, and he bored in, trying to drop Jake with a flurry of blows. Another man would have gone down under the furious onslaught. Not Jake. He stood like a rock and punched like a man who knew he was going to win. In a few minutes, Iversen seemed to know it, too. He was tiring fast, swaying on his feet. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth, and his defense against Jake’s attack was a sham. Jake just knocked him aside and punched him in the head and body. Jake himself was taking plenty of punishment. His left eye was closed, and a dribble of blood leaked from a cut on his cheek. The gut punches he took must have hurt like hell, but all he did was grunt.

  Then Iversen, after one last wild swing, began to fall. Jake drew back his big fist to strike again, then decided not to do it. If it had been me, I would have crippled Iversen with kicks after he hit the ground. But that would have been dumb. We needed Iversen, and a crippled man isn’t much use as a soldier. After one last look at Iversen, Jake walked away.

  Right at that moment Reverend Claggett came down from his wagon. I thought he was going to start in on me for not stopping the fight. “Maybe it’s just as well this way. Let me tell you something, Saddler.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I know more of what goes on in this wagon train than you think. Iversen and Steiner have had their fight, and that’s the end of it. I’ll kill the first man that starts up again.”

  Dr. Ames patched up Iversen as best he could. Some of the broken teeth had to be yanked out with forceps. Ame
s also gave Iversen something to wash out his mouth with. Iversen looked like a Halloween pumpkin without his front teeth. After he finished with Iversen, Ames followed Jake with his black bag. Jake said he was all right—just a puffy eye and a cut on his face.

  “No need to take up your time, doctor,” Jake said courteously.

  Rita was holding a wet cloth to Jake’s swollen eye when I came over. “You mind telling me what caused all that? He’s been riding you for weeks and you took it like a lamb. Why the sudden change?”

  “It’s of no importance, not now,” Jake said. “I don’t think he’ll do it again. If he does, I’ll kill him.”

  I still didn’t get it. “What will he not do again?”

  Rita answered for Jake. “He came to my wagon and offered me money. I told him I didn’t want his money, but he kept on trying. I guess he had been spying on us. He said I’d been with you all night and must have taken money for it. Anything you gave me he would match and double.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I asked him if he had a thousand dollars. I said he’d have to make it five thousand before I’d even think about it. He said I was crazy and offered twenty dollars. Then, when I told him to get away from my wagon, he tried to come in and grab at me. I didn’t want Jake to get into a fight, but I had to tell him about it.”

  Jake took away the wet rag and inspected his damaged eye with a forefinger. “The asking wasn’t what got me mad. It was the grabbing. Of course, there were other things to be settled, too.”

  I grinned at him. “Iversen looked settled enough, last I saw of him.”

  Rita said proudly, “From now on, I lie down for no man but Jake.”

  “Now! Now!” Jake said bashfully. “There’s no need to go into details.”

  Rita’s declaration wasn’t what you’d call romantic, yet I took it as a declaration of love. I wondered what the future would hold for this odd pair. Somehow I got the idea that they would do all right. Frisco was one hell of a town, the liveliest, most open-handed town on the West Coast or anywhere else. You could do anything in Frisco, provided you didn’t do it in the street and frighten the horses. A lot of men and women had gotten a new start in that town.

 

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