Slocum #395 : Slocum and the Trail to Yellowstone (9781101553640)

by Logan, Jake

  “They finally got them,” Slocum said, nodding in satisfaction. “That poor woman probably had no mind left. What a shame.”

  “I figured you’d want to see that. Are you going down on the border to check on those Mexican cattle you want to buy?”

  “In the morning,” Slocum said, still in a daze over the news of Deushay and Roberson’s capture. That would even the score for Jennifer. “I’ll get dressed and be down in the plaza in a little while. I appreciate that news.”

  “I might tag along to the border, if you don’t mind?”

  Sobell was another drover he had known for years who took herds each year to Kansas. They both, he and Sobell, wanted to find an easier line of work and had talked about it extensively. “No, I don’t mind. Come on. The more company the better.”

  Slocum dressed and went down to the tables under the bare-limbed mesquite trees. Sobell, a shorter man with a mustache, was seated in the sunshine. A bartender took Slocum’s order for food, and he cradled the large cup of coffee the man brought him.

  “Well, another nice warm February day in Texas,” Sobell said.

  “Yes, wonderful.” Slocum was still in shock. The deep snow must have driven those killers out in the open, but they were finally in jail awaiting trial. And Carley was in Cheyenne, a long ways from the ruins of the Alamo across the plaza from where Slocum sat feasting on his scrambled eggs, ground pork, and chili peppers all wrapped in a flour tortilla and covered with verde sauce.

  “Those bandits held up a train in Montana and got off with eighty thousand dollars. The ones you said you met—Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” Sobell said. “They left all the gold coins. Too hard to transport, someone said. Why, I could have lived out my life on one basket of them.”

  “Fussy, aren’t they?”

  “Yeah, what were they like?”

  “Kinda tough. One was as outgoing as a salesman. The other had dark hooded eyes like he suspected everyone he ran into.”

  Sobell lifted his cup. “They just run around loose up there?”

  “It wasn’t in town. They were riding the outlaw trail then, and that’s way back in the Bighorn Mountains.”

  “Speaking of that, there were two guys that supposedly robbed their Texas boss last summer after he sold a herd in Montana.”

  “I met them one night too. Ward and Smith were the names they gave me. They wanted to join Butch and Sundance when I first met them. I don’t think the law ever got them either.”

  “No, I ain’t heard about that. I vaguely knew that guy they killed. Had a ranch out in the hill country. If they robbed and killed him and got all that money, they’d have enough money to lie back and keep their heads down for a long time.”

  “I’d guess so.” Though he’d parted from her months ago, Slocum couldn’t get the picture of a naked Carley out of his mind. There were plenty of dark-eyed girls shaking their butts around the plaza, and he’d sampled his share, but none of them matched being in bed with her. Whew.

  “The trouble, Sobell, is they will piss away the money like those other two have, and then they’ll have to make another big haul to keep up their standard of living.”

  The man agreed. “I’ll meet you at the livery at sunup?”

  Slocum nodded.

  The next two days, they rode down to San Jose, a sleepy border town across the Rio Grande. The river was shallow and they forded it on horseback. Then they put up their horses and got rooms in the Inn of San Raphael. Slocum’s contact there, a man named Sanchez, was supposed to meet him at the inn on the fifteenth of the month. Slocum and Sobell arrived on the fourteenth, so they relaxed in the bar and waited.

  Slocum had no urge to get drunk, so he sipped some wine and talked to some of the girls who worked the bar. There was one who came in and caught his eye, and on his invitation she came over. Her name was Silvia, and she looked fully packed in a tight-fitting short leather skirt and fringed blouse that exposed enough of her cleavage to intrigue a horny male. Slocum decided he was such a person.

  He ordered lunch and by then Sobell had found a woman that matched his partner. A shorter, dark-eyed witch that looked interesting enough to eat. Oh well—to eat with anyway.

  After lunch, siesta was mentioned, and the two pairs parted. With her high heels clicking on the tile floor, Silvia marched with Slocum up to his room on the second floor. His two French doors were open to a balcony, and he went over to look at the street below. A warm breeze blew in and fluttered the drapes as Silvia slipped under his arm and stuck her hard breast against his chest. He noticed two gringos hitch their horses and look around. Peering over at the top of their heads, Slocum thought they looked familiar—or he’d seen them before.

  “You know those two?” she asked in a smoky voice.

  “I don’t recognize them.”

  “Their names are Ward and Smith. They say there is big bounty on them in the States.”

  “What do they do here?”

  “They bought a ranch near here.”

  “They amigos?”

  She pulled his face down to meet hers. “No, all think they are lovers.” Her head shake told him the rest.

  How had they slipped down here and openly bought a ranch? Must have been lots of money in their ex-boss’s pockets for them to be able to do that, or maybe they’d joined a gang and made more money that way. He’d try to avoid them.

  Silvia’s hand gently cupped his privates and came up with a big smile. “Ah, this will be an interesting afternoon.”

  Slocum turned back to Silvia. He lifted the fringed blouse off over her head and gazed at her pointed brown breasts. Perky enough looking. He dropped the garment on the bed and turned to hug her. She was packed hard as a blasting stick, and his tongue lashed with hers.

  They soon were on top of the bed, coupled and going hard toward the relief at the end of the act. He closed his eyes to savor her tight pussy. Her body was a wave of muscles inside and out. And she knew how to excite a man with her various moves beneath him. But she also was worked up enough to amuse him—she wanted to be the fucker, but there was no way for her to gain that, though he enjoyed her tries. When he came at last inside of her, she bit his shoulder.

  She rose up, shook her head, loosening her pinned up hair, and then flopped over on the bed as if done in. Her small shapely ass was toward him. He moved behind her. Her hand went to defend her rectum, but he held it aside and reentered her pussy quite easily. She strained some as he went deep.

  “You are ready again. So soon?” she asked, sounding confused.

  “Oh, darling, we ain’t halfway there yet.” He began to pour his meat into her. She scrambled over on her belly, and he gave her lots of pounding. When he came this time, he used the fluids to lubricate her ass.

  “Oh, no,” she protested, but he knew she had no say-so about what he did to her next. On her stomach underneath him, all she could do was take it—besides, he figured that when he got through with her, she might well have enjoyed all of it. His entry was slow, and she caught her scream as he pushed in, and then she beat the mattress with the sides of her fists. But soon she was away in la-la land and raised her butt in the air for him to go deeper. He came at last and they slept coupled together.

  Someone knocked softly on his door an hour later.

  “Yes?”

  Sobell whispered, “You have company downstairs. Ward and Smith. Thought you might want to know. They don’t know me.”

  “Gracias.”

  “I knew you’d want to know.”

  Slocum walked across the room and, standing back from the window, looked out at the plaza. Silvia brought a wet cloth and gave his privates a brisk cleanup with it.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, amused.

  “I am going to make you stand on your toes.” She tossed the cloth at the bowl on the dresser and dropped to her knees. He looked down at her shapely brown form kneeling before him, and she took his half-hard cock and sucked on the end of it.

  He said no mo
re.

  That evening Slocum was approached by Ward and Smith in the bar.

  “Don’t we know you?” Ward asked. “You weren’t all dressed up in that shack when it rained so damn hard that night in Wyoming.”

  “That was a real storm, wasn’t it? I’m surprised to see you two down here. I saw that the gang you were looking to join had held up another express shipment.”

  “Yeah, well, we decided we could stay down here and not get our heads blown off,” Smith said. “What brings you to Mexico?”

  “Same thing brought me to Wyoming. Pussy.”

  Smith slapped his knee and laughed aloud. “Now, ain’t that something. A man who travels all over the damn world and looks for that.”

  “It’s safer than bank robbing.”

  “You ever see them two killers again, the ones you were going after?” Ward asked.

  Slocum shook his head.

  “Well, happy pussy hunting,” Smith said, still laughing, as Slocum went over to join Sobell.

  He didn’t like them any better than the last time. Anyone that would shoot his boss in the back, bury him God knew where, and take his money was liable to do anything. They’d nimbly made it to Mexico and were going to live the good life as long as their money lasted.

  “Reckon the law knows they’re down here?” Sobell asked.

  “The law has no money to go after them north of the border, let alone in Mexico where there is no law.”

  “What are they worth?” Sobell asked quietly, as if considering something about them.

  “I think a thousand that the family had offered at the outset.”

  “That real?”

  “Damned if I know. Lots of big rewards never get paid.”

  “Who offered that reward?”

  “Told you—family, I think. I guess we can check with a wire to the county sheriff up at Mason County.”

  Sobell nodded, looking deep in thought. “I’ll do that later this afternoon.”

  “You needing money?”

  “Be a shame not to take it.” The man smiled at the notion. “Why wouldn’t we do that? And not have to deal with men like Sanchez, buying cattle that he probably stole.”

  “If the money is in a bank, it looks like it might be like you say—easy.”

  Sobell shook his head. “I don’t care if they’ll come easy or come feetfirst. Pays the same.”

  “They might be tougher than you think.”

  Sobell ordered another drink and ignored his warning. “When’s Sanchez coming?”

  Slocum chuckled. “This is Mexico. Maybe today.” He turned his palms up.

  “Maybe. Yeah, we are south of the border. Time means nothing down here. Where’s Silvia?”

  “Said she had business to take care of.”

  “Business, huh?”

  “I’m not sure. She’s real enough. Maybe too real.”

  “Too real?”

  “She ain’t there to simply turn tricks for a few bucks. There’s more to her than that. She never charged me. I don’t know what else she is, but she’s a schemer.”

  Sobell grinned. “Funny how you can tell something is up with one of them, no matter how hard they fuck you.”

  “There’s got to be schemers in this world.”

  Before they went to supper at a small café that Sobell’s woman said made wonderful dishes, Sobell sent his telegraph from the federal telegraph office. Then the two women met them at the candlelit table and they had a great meal of tender beef, spicy enchiladas, sliced avocadoes, and fried apple pie. They washed the meal down with red wine, then leisurely walked the two blocks of dark street back to the hotel.

  Sanchez had not checked in to the hotel yet. The cattle buyer would come sooner or later, so Slocum excused himself and Silvia, and the two of them started up to his room, Slocum following her up the stairs. She wore a tight blue silk dress and high heels that showed lots of her tan legs to very good effect. Not an outfit anyone would show up to attend church in, but the garment fit her shapely body and made things interesting to look at.

  He unlocked the door and let her go in ahead of him, then struck a match and lifted the globe enough to see her undoing the front of her dress. Saliva flooded his mouth as the image of her naked body filled his mind.

  He toed off his boots and then he prepared to help her out of the dress. Soon her flesh spilled out of the half-shell opening, and her tawny body emerged. The dark nipples looked like they were pointed at him. With his suspenders down, his pants fell, and he stepped out of them and walked to her. He gathered her into his arms and kissed her mouth, finding her hot tongue in his mouth. In his arms, she squirmed until it felt like her muscled body was a huge snake’s. His fingers combed through her soft pubic hair, and she moved her legs apart for his finger to probe the crease. The lips of her cunt were already wet with her juices and he smiled, rekissing her. Her nail-like pointed nipples stuck to his bare chest. He savored her closeness and the previews of what was ahead for him to enjoy.

  They were on the bed, making the ropes squeak in protest under them. His rock hardness made his entire dick feel ready to blow up, the powerful muscles inside of her crushing his efforts to plunge in her any more than halfway. Not to be denied, the muscles in his butt began to win the depth battle. She strained hard, but his power took over and he was slamming his dick against the bottom of her vagina. By the moaning deep in her throat and the wild look of her hair in her face as she shook her head from side to side, he knew he had won the second battle. He plunged to the bottom and exploded.

  From there on she was his to do with as he wanted—but he did it gently. They finally collapsed to sleep in each other’s arms.

  He opened his eyes, his foggy vision making out the sunlight spilling in through the two French doors. Looking over beside him, he saw that Silvia’s tawny bare body was in a fetal position on her side. A pretty woman sleeping. He dressed and smiled at her soft breathing.

  He bent over and kissed her cheek. Then he left the room and found Sobell in the restaurant. The waiter brought Slocum a steaming cup of rich coffee. With a nod to Sobell, he took the yellow telegram the man handed him.

  “The thousand dollar reward is in the Texas National Bank. Family will pay,” said Sobell.

  Slocum raised his gaze up from the telegram to look at the man. “Where do they pay at?”

  His partner shrugged. “I imagine Texas.”

  “They killed their boss in either Montana or Wyoming. They’ll have to be tried up there.”

  “I say take them to Mason, Texas, collect the reward, and that should be enough. Fifty-fifty.”

  Slocum shook his head in deep doubt. “It may not be that damn easy.”

  “Hell, Slocum, what can they do but pay us if we bring them two killers?”

  “I hope they will.”

  “Let’s do some figuring how we’re going to do this. They don’t look all that tough.”

  The waiter brought Slocum his plate of food, and he waited until the man was gone before he commented again. “When you face a hanging charge, you can get your back up.”

  “That’s lots of money.”

  Slocum agreed, then set into eating his tortilla-wrapped breakfast. Where was that damn Sanchez at anyway?

  Sleepy-eyed, Silvia came down and joined them. She leaned wearily toward Slocum. Not close enough, she scooted the chair over to cling to him and moan some. “I am so sore. Did you use sandpaper on me last night? I think I need to sit in a cool tub of water all day.” Her hand slipped to her waistband and she rubbed her crotch. “I am on fire. Did you use chili powder too?”

  “No. Just me,” he said, a little uncomfortable with her complaining so publicly.

  “I have to go to Santa Maria today. Could you rent a rig and take me? My grandmother is going to be ninety years old. She would be glad to see me.”

  Slocum stood up. “Get your things. I’ll rent a horse and buggy. We can leave in thirty minutes.” He turned to Sobell. “That damn Sanchez comes, you
stall him for me. I’ll be back.”

  “Sure, no problem. You think more about that pair. I’m damn near broke myself.”

  “I will. You get more particulars.”

  “I can do that. Don’t worry. I can keep Sanchez here.”

  Silvia had left on the run to get “some of her things,” and Slocum finished his coffee standing up, gave Sobell a head toss that he was leaving, and went to the livery. He rented a fast horse and a two-person buggy with a top on it and swung around to pick Silvia up. She had two carpet bags, so he tied off the horse and loaded them on the small rack in back.

  “Will they stay on there?” she asked, sounding concerned.

  He nodded, strapping them down tight, then put her on the seat. She scooted over to make room for him. From all the items she had, Slocum decided that she must make big money or had a rich godfather. They left the streets of the border town behind, and he drove where she directed, south on the busy road.

  “How far away is this place?” he asked when at last she turned to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and jabbed a breast in his side to get cozy.

  “Oh, not too far.”

  “Far?”

  She kissed him on the cheek. He’d noticed she wore a long skirt and blouse and a flat-topped hat like many Spanish ranch women wore—a much milder outfit than the other two he’d seen her in.

  “We are going where?”

  “To see my grandmother.”

  “Who else?”

  “My father.”

  “You about to get me in trouble with him?”

  “No, no. I will tell him you were so nice to bring me down there to his hacienda and such a gentleman. He will like you.”

  “Oh, yes, and when he finds out I’m fucking his daughter, he will shoot me.”