“Ow! What the—” She jerked awake, saw him grinning down at her, and remembered where she was and what she was doing. She was trying to make some money to feed her three kids, because her husband was out of work. That meant she had to be nice to this man, who was quite possibly the worst she’d ever been with. All he wanted to do was bite her tits.
And she had to be nice about it.
“Hey,” she said, smiling at him, holding her right breast in her hands, “don’t forget the other one . . .”
Cole woke with a warm hip next to him, turned his head. Kelsey was asleep with her face toward him, and he looked again at the freckles on her nose. Once she’d undressed he’d been able to see just how many freckles she had—on the slopes of her breasts, on her shoulders, even a few around her rusty-colored nipples. Asleep, she was extraordinarily pretty. It had been a pleasant night, and he knew he’d made the right choice keeping her for himself.
She opened her eyes, as if she knew she was being stared at.
“Mornin’,” she said, stretching and making her small breasts go taut.
Kelsey was the only whore in town who didn’t have a man of her own. She didn’t think it would be fair to a man, considering what she did for money. The other women all had husbands who weren’t bringing money in, even young Mary. Her husband was twenty and useless.
She rolled over, put her hand on Cole’s chest, then moved it down over his belly until she was grasping him firmly.
“Oh, somebody is very awake,” she said, sliding a leg over him.
Across the street, Diane and Mary slipped from the hotel room as their men slept, snoring loudly. They hadn’t particularly enjoyed doing their jobs in beds next to each other, but both men had just rolled over and fallen asleep after a few minutes.
They left the hotel and went back home to their families. Diane would pay the other women later in the day.
Cole West had Kelsey down on all fours, fucking her from behind while she grunted and groaned. He ran his hands over her back. The combined heat from their rutting bodies had raised the temperature in the room to the point where they were both sweating.
Kelsey braced her hands on the mattress and drove her butt back into Cole as he thrusted forward. She had to admit she was enjoying her job this night, as opposed to the way things usually went.
“Yeah, ooh yeah, that’s it,” she exhorted him. “More . . . harder . . . faster . . . ohh baby . . .”
Cole tried his best to give her what she wanted while also getting what he wanted. He smacked her ass until it glowed red, and still she implored him to go on . . .
Clint woke early the next morning. The room was cold, the water from the pitcher even colder as he washed his face and torso. Shivering, he dried himself and walked to the window. The snow had stopped, but a coat of it covered the ground. There were no people out yet, and maybe there wouldn’t be, since they were all afraid of the wolf.
He got dressed and had just strapped on his gun when there was a knock at the door.
He was surprised to see Jesse Trapp standing there, dressed and fresh-looking.
“You ready?” Jesse asked.
“Jesus,” Clint said, “I thought I’d have to come to your room and drag you out of bed.”
“Take more than a little ol’ bottle of whiskey to put me under,” Trapp said.
“I guess so.”
“Come on,” Jesse said, “I’m hungry.”
They walked down to the lobby, where they saw two women talking with the desk clerk. The pair turned as Clint and Jesse came down; the younger of the two averted her eyes, looking almost guilty. Clint assumed these were two part-time whores.
He and Jesse left the hotel.
TWENTY-FIVE
Cole could have stayed in bed with Kelsey all day, she was that good. But that wasn’t what he had come to Wolf Creek to do.
He shooed her out of his room, walked down the hall to Dave Willis’s room, and knocked.
“What?” Willis shouted from inside.
“Come on, time to get up!”
“Go away.”
Cole pounded on the door until Willis finally opened it. The man was naked, with a raging erection. Behind him, on the bed, Cole saw the big-breasted whore on her knees, watching the two of them. She did nothing to try and hide those big tits, which were firmer and did not hang down as far as Cole had thought they would. Her plain face looked puzzled, but he had to admit she had nice skin and pretty pink nipples.
“We gotta go,” Cole said. “Send her home.”
“But I ain’t done!” Willis said.
Cole looked down at Willis’s dick, which was softening.
“Yeah, you are. Come on, get dressed and meet me in the lobby.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Willis said and slammed the door.
Cole waited in the lobby. While he was waiting, he looked out the door and saw Jesse Trapp and Clint Adams come out of the other hotel and walk to the café.
Eventually Willis came down with the girl and slapped her on the rump as she went out the front door.
“Did you see the tits on that one?” Willis asked. “Gawd!”
“Forget about that now,” Cole said. “We got to go and get Shoe and Truett. Trapp and his man are in the café.”
“How are we gonna eat if they’re there?” Willis complained.
“I don’t know,” Cole said. “Maybe there’s someplace else.”
“I’ll ask the clerk.”
“We’ll ask the one across the street,” Cole said. “Come on.”
When Shoe and Truett opened their door Cole looked in and saw that the whores were gone. The room was warm from naked bodies, and smelled stale.
“I’m starvin’,” Shoemaker complained.
“Just wait,” Cole said. “We got to come in. I got somethin’ to tell you all.”
“What’s goin’ on?” Truett asked as Cole and Willis entered.
“He’s got somethin’ ta tell us,” Shoemaker said. “Don’t sound like good news.”
“Aw, damn,” Truett said. “I don’t like bad news.”
“Nobody does. Shut the door,” he told Willis.
The door slammed. Willis was still miffed at having to send his whore home.
“What’s goin’ on, Cole?” he asked.
“I found out who the other man with Trapp is.”
“That’s the bad news?” Shoe asked.
“Dependin’ on how you look at it,” Cole said.
“Who is it?” Truett asked.
Cole hesitated then said, “It’s Clint Adams.”
The three men remained silent, and then Willis said, “You mean . . . the Gunsmith?”
“Yeah,” Cole said, “That’s what I mean.”
TWENTY-SIX
When Clint and Jesse got to the café, Evangeline was standing outside.
“Why didn’t you go inside and get a table?” Clint asked.
“They wouldn’t let me in,” she said.
“Why not?”
“They don’t think I can pay.”
“Hell, kid,” Jesse said, “if they’ll let me in, they’ll let you in. Come on.”
The three of them went inside; Clint asked for a table for three people.
Both Jesse and Evangeline drew stares as they walked past people to get to a table.
Clint ordered a pot of coffee. He and Jesse ordered steak and eggs.
Evangeline hesitated.
“What’s wrong?” Clint asked.
“Can I have anything I want?”
“Of course you can,” Clint said.
She ordered steak and eggs, biscuits and gravy, and flapjacks.
“Are you sure that’s everything?” Clint asked.
“That’s all,” she said. “I know we won’t be eatin’ much while we’re hunting.”
“How do you know that?”
“We’re gonna be huntin’ a wolf,” she said. “We ain’t gonna wanna build a fire and start cookin’ somethin’ that’ ll attract it
.”
“Why not?” Jesse asked. “We wanna find him, don’t we?”
“Yeah,” she said, “but not in our camp. We wanna find him on our terms.”
Jesse looked at Clint, who just shrugged.
“Let me see your rifle,” Clint asked.
“Sure.”
She handed over her Winchester. Clint checked it, found it in perfect working order, and recently cleaned. He handed it back.
“Got anything else?” he asked.
From inside her skins she produced a handgun, a worn but well-cared-for Colt. He looked it over, then handed that back, as well.
“You care for your weapons well.”
“If my guns fail me on a hunt, I’m dead,” she said.
“That’s true,” Jesse said.
The waiter came with their breakfasts, and filled Evangeline’s side of the table with food. The two men watched in awe as she plowed through it.
“After we eat,” Jesse said to Clint, “we’ll pack the mule, mount up, and get movin’.”
“We’ve got to wait for Thompson,” Clint said, but just then the ranch hand walked in and approached their table.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I got time to eat?”
“Sure,” Jesse said. “Order somethin’, if you can find some room on the table.”
“All that food hers?” he asked, sitting down.
“Yeah,” Evangeline said. “Don’t touch.”
“I won’t,” he said, “but those flapjacks look good.” The waiter came over and he ordered a stack.
“I wanna see the two places where men were killed,” Jesse said to Thompson.
“That ain’t a problem, but with this fresh snow you ain’t gonna be able to find nothin’.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jesse said. “I just wanna have a look.”
Thompson looked at Clint. “I’m curious. Why are you here, Mr. Adams?”
“Jesse asked me along,” Clint said. “That was all the reason I needed. And we might as well all be on a first-name basis, Lee.”
“Me, too?” Evangeline asked.
“Yes,” Clint said, “you, too. Call me Clint.”
“You can call me Evie,” she said.
The waiter came over with a stack of flapjacks, maple syrup, and butter.
“Are your guns in working order?” Clint asked Thompson.
Thompson nodded. “I cleaned ’em last night.”
“Good. Are you a good shot?”
“I can usually hit what I aim at.”
“Me, too,” Evangeline said.
“Maybe,” Clint said, “when we get out of town I can see the two of you shoot.”
“Evangeline is right,” Thompson said. “I’ve seen her shoot. She’s good.”
“Thanks, Lee,” she said, “but why wouldn’t your boss let me come along when you fellas went out?”
“I told him you could shoot, Evie,” the man said. “He just didn’t want no women along. Only his own men.”
“I guess I could understand that,” Jesse said.
“You’re lettin’ me come along,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but I got my man along—Clint. We’ll watch each other’s back.”
“Well, Evie,” Lee Thompson said, “I guess we’ll just have to watch each other’s backs, too.”
“Don’t worry,” Clint said. “We’ll be watching each other. All four of us.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
“We gotta go up against the Gunsmith?” Shoemaker asked.
Cole nodded.
“You know, Cole,” Truett said, “we all came up here as a favor to you. We all liked your brothers, and want to help you get your revenge, but even Link and Harve ain’t worth dyin’ over.”
“Look,” Cole said, “Adams is out of his element here. Plus he can’t be as good as his rep says. He just can’t. I think since we still got them outnumbered four to two, we’re okay.”
“Even if his rep is only half true, I ain’t happy about goin’ up agin him,” Shoemaker said.
“We kill him and Trapp, we avenge my brothers, and we make names for ourselves. You know how much money you can make if you’re known as one of the men who killed Clint Adams?”
“Well,” Willis said, “there is that.”
“So what do we do now?” Shoemaker said.
“Adams and Trapp are in the café,” Cole said. “We gotta keep an eye on them and see what they’re gonna do today.”
“So we can’t eat?” Shoemaker asked.
“Shoe, you find out from the desk clerk where else we could eat,” Cole said. “The rest of us will watch the café. If you find someplace else to eat, you all can go and I’ll keep an eye on them.”
“Sounds okay to me,” Truett said.
“And if they decide to leave town and start huntin’ today?” Willis asked.
“Then so will we,” Cole said.
It didn’t work the way they planned.
There was a smaller café around the corner. Cole let the other three go, hid in a doorway across the street, and watched the first café. When Adams and Trapp came out they had two others with them, a man and a girl. Cole didn’t know who they were, but they all started walking to the livery together.
He ran to get his men.
Lee Thompson’s horse was saddled and waiting outside when they came out. He walked with them to the livery and waited while they packed the mule and saddled their horses. None of the food they had been carrying had gone bad, not with how cold it was in the livery.
Once they had all their animals ready they walked them outside, and mounted up. Evangeline had a six-year-old mare that looked fit enough for what they were going to be doing. Clint didn’t anticipate that any of these other mounts would have to keep up with Eclipse on the dead run.
“Where’s the first place?” Jesse asked Thompson.
“A ranch just outside of town,” Thompson said. “Should take us about twenty minutes to get there.”
“Okay,” Clint said. “Lead the way.”
Thompson took the lead and they walked out of Wolf Creek single file. Once they got outside of town, Evangeline rode up alongside of Clint.
“So you’re really the Gunsmith?” she asked.
“I really am.”
“You kill as many men as they say you have?”
“No.”
“Then why do they say it?”
“People like to talk,” he said.
“So it’s all lies, what they say about you?”
“Not all,” he said, “but a lot.”
“Gee . . .”
“How old are you, Evie?”
“I’m twenty.”
“Have you got folks around here?”
“I did,” she said, “but they died a few years ago. Been on my own since then.”
“Seems like you take good care of yourself.”
“I try,” she said. “I can make my own money when somebody’ll hire me to hunt.”
“Can you do anything else?” he asked.
“Like what?”
“Waitress, or work in a store.”
“God, no!” she said. “I’d rather be dead. I can ride, I can hunt, and I can shoot. That’s all I wanna do.”
“Well, okay,” he said. “Then that’s all we’ll have to do until we find that wolf.”
“Well,” she said, “I can cook when I’m on the trail.”
“I make the best trail coffee,” he said.
“Bet mine’s better,” she said with a grin.
“Well,” he said, “we’ll see about that.”
Cole, Willis, Shoemaker, and Truett watched the four riders walk their horses out of the livery. Shoemaker and Truett were still holding some biscuits, finishing their breakfast on the run.
“Now, who are they?” Willis complained.
“They’re probably just guides,” Cole said. “Trapp and Adams have to be shown to where the wolf had its kills.”
“And what do we do?” Truett asked.
<
br /> “We trail them.”
“Again?” Shoemaker asked.
“We just need to bide our time a little more,” Cole said.
“The four of us followin’ the four of them?” Willis asked. “You think they ain’t gonna notice?”
“We still got the snow to work with,” Cole said. “We don’t have to follow them close, just track ’em.”
“They’re outfitted,” Shoemaker said. “We got no supplies.”
He was right.
“Okay,” Cole said, “me and Willis will track ’em. You and Truett pick up some supplies, just whatever you can carry. Then you catch up to us.”
“I don’t like this,” Shoemaker said.
“Shoe, it’s all gonna work out,” Cole said. “I guarantee you.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Thompson led them to a small ranch. There was a two-room house, a barn, and a corral.
“Lou Jacks lived here,” he said, “until that damn wolf killed him.”
“Right here?” Jesse asked. “Right on his property?”
“The wolf was in the corral, killin’ a horse when Lou heard him. He come runnin’ out with his rifle, but he never got off a shot.”
“Did you see ’im?” Jesse asked.
“I saw ’im.”
“Show me where he was.”
Thompson led them to the corral. “He was right in there, lying on his back with his throat ripped out.”
“Where was his rifle?” Clint asked.
“Over there.”
“How far from the body?” Clint asked.
“’Bout ten feet.”
Clint got in the corral and walked over to where the body had been lying.
“And the horse? Did the wolf kill it?”
“Oh yeah,” Thompson said. “Got its throat, too. It was lyin’ right there.”
“So he came out here with his rifle,” Clint said. “Why’d he get in the corral? Why not shoot the wolf from outside?”
Hunt for the White Wolf Page 7