by Jake Logan
Hours later in the dark, he slipped into Vinita and took his prisoner to the U.S. marshal’s office looking for Hindman. He quickly explained to the deputy in charge who Hudson was and told him to wire Sheriff Taylor in Hilton County, Texas, who’d send a man up there for him.
“You all can share the hundred bucks reward on this one, and also take his horse and the rest. His brother has hotfooted it for Nebraska, and I want to meet him there.”
“Good luck, Slocum. I’m sure Marshal Hindman would like to be here to thank you too,” the deputy said.
Slocum nodded, then left the office and Vinita. His back itched all the way out of town, feeling like the Kansas deputies were somewhere close by—too close. Off in the night, a coyote yipped at the moon. Hell of a note to lose Katy’s wonderful company and replace it with a mangy damn coyote—but that was his luck.
13
In York, Nebraska, four days later, he sold Spook to a livery, and with his saddle and war bag on his shoulder, he climbed on the second passenger car of the 4:06 westward bound. The conductor had him store his gear in the back area by the cold stove, and he moved forward to take a seat by a woman he spotted who appeared to be in her late twenties. With light brown hair in long curls, she held in her lap a wide-brim hat with flowers that looked real on it. Prim and proper–looking, she inched over with a soft “No problem” when he took off his hat and asked if she minded company.
“Thank you, ma’ am,” he said and sat down.
“Your mother must have been a strong-minded woman,” she said, looking out the window at the yellow and brown depot and acting like she didn’t dare look over at him.
“How is that?”
“Most hooligans would have sat down and moved me over.” Then she laughed as if embarrassed at her own frankness.
“Glad I’m not in that class.”
“You aren’t? Do you usually wear spurs?” She peered over at his dusty toed boots.
“Yes, ma’am. But since I can’t hurry this train none, I left them in my saddlebags.”
“I’m glad. I’d’ve hated to have been spurred on this trip.”
If she’d give him half a chance, he’d sure spur her. Straight backed, she certainly made a good-looking woman. “No danger of me doing that today.”
“Are you a stockman?”
“Have been. I was supervising about three thousand head on a lease down in the Indian Territory for a man from San Antonio.”
“Did you quit? You don’t look like a man who would be fired from any job.”
“I had to quit. A man who killed a good friend of mine down in Texas is supposed to be in Ogallala. I’m headed there to find him.”
“Oh.” The way she made her full red lips into a circle made him realize he’d sure like to taste her mouth.
She responded with, “Isn’t that dangerous? I mean going after a killer.”
“Life is a dangerous place anyway.” He shrugged the notion away. “He killed a family man with a good wife. He doesn’t deserve to live.”
“Will you just shoot him down whenever you find him?”
“I captured his brother. He surrendered when I came in the room he was in.”
“I would too.” She snickered and shook her head. “Was he wearing a gun then?”
He considered his answer, recalling the nervous Hudson in his underwear, about to pee in them. “No, ma’am. I snuck up on him and caught him away from his gun.”
“I thought men like that slept with their weapons.”
“He wasn’t wearing it. But when his brother discovered I was there, he jumped out of a second-story building and rode away.”
“Where is the man you captured at?”
“In the Vinita jail, soon to be taken back to Texas for trial, or possibly already on his way. I’m trying to beat his brother to Ogallala.”
“Are you a lawman as well?”
“No, just a citizen.”
“Well, with all these outlaws we read about in the West, you are a sterling citizen.”
He shook his head. “Just doing the right thing.”
“You are a very modest man. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mrs. Lea Malloy.”
“Slocum’s mine. Nice to meet you, Lea.”
“No, sir. It is my pleasure.”
“You know where I came from. Where do you live?” he asked her.
“Cheyenne, right now. My husband, Thomas, is having a residence built on our ranch up in Douglas.”
“You have a ranch up there in Douglas?”
“Yes. Have you ever been there?”
“Yes, ma’am, but only in passing. You like the country?”
She mildly shook her head. “Why would a woman who has lived in Eastern society all her life enjoy such isolation? I don’t want to be there. What can I do at the ranch but prance around my living room?”
He snickered. “You would, if I may say so, look quite attractive doing that.”
She looked at the train car ceiling for help. “What do you do in such a place?”
“I’d go to every country dance and dinner I could find. There is one at every schoolhouse in the land on Saturday night out here.”
“What do I need to bring?”
“Food or dessert, and don’t outdress them.”
“Oh, well, when I get there, I’ll be at every one of them, as you suggested. And I understand how not to overdress. I am in your gratitude, sir. I shall go to every one I can find.”
“These working people know how to have a good time. Different, maybe, than what you’re accustomed to, but in Rome you must do as the Romans do.”
“Thank you, Caesar.”
She recrossed her legs and settled her skirt. With her legs crossed, her high-button shoe swung idly out from under the hem. “I never expected to find such interesting company on a public coach. Thomas usually uses his private railcar, but I stayed over in New York when he came back earlier to oversee the house construction. I dismissed his concern and told him that other people ride public railways all across the nation unharmed. He said, ‘Well, it’s your neck.’ ”
Slocum nodded, looking out of the car and thinking about all the farmers that were plowing under the waving grass outside of the smudged window. A cowman’s dream being turned roots-up for progress. Rich grazing land that had once fed the huge waves of buffalo that would pass for days, according to the tales of the early settlers. He noticed several sod houses on these homesteads as the train streamed west at twenty-five miles per hour—the legal federal speed limit.
“We will be in Ogallala,” she said, looking at the timetable she drew from her canvas bag, “at approximately 3 A.M.”
“Eleven hours, that’s about right.” He wondered what that meant. Faster than the long-expired pony express anyway.
“I think I will stay there for a day to rest up. Take a bath. It’s hard for me to sleep sitting up. Is it wild there?”
“Some. It’s becoming a real cow town fast-like.”
“They say Cheyenne is like that too. However, I found most of you Western men polite.”
“Most are.”
He slipped down in the seat and used his hat to shade his face as the sun sank lower in the west. His ears were open for her melodic voice and he was waiting for the spinning roulette wheel in his brain to stop. Would she invite him to share such a place? No telling. She might just be open to such an adventure with him.
“I guess you can find a room at that hour?” she asked him casually. “You know, single women are sometimes mistaken for women of the night and are refused a room.”
She had slid down in the seat as well to be beside him and was talking in a low whisper. “What if we check in as—”
“As Mr. and Mrs. John Howard?” he asked and she squeezed his hand very carefully.
“Exactly. Then I’d have no worries.” She put her hat on and hid behind the brim.
“None whatsoever, Mrs. Howard.” This could prove interesting, he decided, and tried to draw a m
ental picture of what she would look like under her travel wear: a full denim skirt, a ruffled white blouse, and formfitting vest.
“Lean over.” She raised the brim of her hat, and when he appeared from under his own, she quickly kissed him on the mouth, then ducked back down.
“Whew.” She settled back beside him with her arms folded over her chest. “This is heady.”
“You might be disappointed.”
“I doubt it.”
“We’ll see.” He closed his eyes under his own hat.
The train, they learned from the conductor, would arrive on time. Slocum took his saddle and war bag and the porter took Lea’s two bags to the exit at the end of the car to prepare for debarking. Most of the scattered passengers remained asleep on the uncomfortable benches.
Slocum told the porter they needed a taxi. The black man nodded. “I’s knows a good one here.”
Slocum slipped the black man a silver dollar, and the man nodded, acting impressed at his generosity. “We be there soon. Hold on,” he said as the train’s air brakes began to make the steel wheels slide on the tracks with a squeal.
The conductor went down first and put down the step. Slocum set down his saddle and war bag on the dock, then helped the lady off the stairs, and the porter descended with her bags.
The porter waved to a man who hurried over and bowed. “Chester Brown at your service.”
“The best hotel,” she whispered wifelike to Slocum.
“The best hotel in town,” Slocum told him.
“Ah, yes, the Grand, sir.”
He delivered them and carried Lea’s luggage inside. Slocum shouldered his saddle, and they entered the dimly lit, spacious lobby. A sleepy-eyed young clerk jumped to attention.
“Rudolph, sir, at your attention. What may I do for you?”
“Mrs. Howard and I wish a room. And two hot baths delivered to our room.”
“Yes, of course, sir. I—I will arrange for that quickly.”
“I trust you will.” He set down his saddle and turned to her. “Lea, do you wish for any food service?”
She shook her head. “A bath and a clean bed will be sufficient.”
“Very well then,” Slocum said and signed in as Howard.
The clerk turned the register around and read the name. “Mr. Howard, we are pleased you have chosen our hotel. The tub and hot water will be up there in a few minutes. Room 225. It is on the front side. Is that satisfactory?”
He handed over the key.
“Don’t be long on the tub arrangement. We have been on the train too long already.”
“Yes, sir. I will have your bags and saddle delivered right up.”
“Very good.” He nodded to her and she led the way ahead of him up the wide staircase. The crystal chandelier gleamed, giving off sparkling lights like diamonds as they climbed the steps to the next floor and went down the hall to their room.
Slocum paused at the doorway before he inserted the key. “Your last chance to run me off.”
“Not on your life,” she whispered, and pushed his hand toward the keyhole. “I’d have put the bath off till morning if I’d been in charge.”
“I still smell too much like a horse.”
“It isn’t my nose that needs some relief.”
Inside the dark room, they were immediately in each other’s arms and kissing. Her hungry mouth sought his like a drowning individual gasps for air. He soon discovered she was even taller than he had imagined. The rap at their door separated them.
A bellman delivered her two bags and a second man carried in his saddle and war bag. They moved apart and she took some pins out of her hair while Slocum dealt with the luggage. After both of the men had been tipped, four more people appeared with two copper tubs. A short woman in a white apron delivered several bath towels and at Lea’s direction put them orderly-like on the bed.
“We will be right back, sir, with the hot water,” the man in charge said.
When they filed out, he winked at her and shut the door. “They won’t be long.”
She looked at the dark ceiling for help and forced a smile in the lamplight. “I hope not.”
At the sounds of people hurrying up the stairs, Slocum reopened the door. It was some form of a brigade that brought the pails of steaming water through the door. The room soon smelled of hot water, and the lady in the apron gave Lea some soap and a long-handled brush. The man in charge ushered all the workers out. “Will that be all, sir?”
“Share this,” Slocum said and handed him two dollars. He observed the rinse pails full on the floor and nodded. “Thanks.”
He followed the man over and relocked the door. With his back to the door at last, he watched Lea undo the vest top, hang it on a ladder-back chair, then undo the blouse buttons. She paused and glanced up at him.
“Hey, you aren’t undressing.”
“I’m enjoying the view.” His eyes still on her, he watched her lift the half slip over her head, and the long, pearshaped breasts swung like firm weights. His boots toed off, he undid the gun belt and holster, the whole time watching her undo the denim skirt at the waist and step out of it. He looped his gun belt over the chair post, and she dropped her butt on the bed and began unhooking her shoelaces. The footgear soon off, she stood, hiked up her petticoats, and removed her silk stockings, carefully gathering them until, one at a time, they came off her toes.
By then he stood naked before her and she gasped at the sight of his rising sword. “Oh, I really chose well.”
She quickly shed the slip and rose, with the vision of her precious breasts crossing his mind with wild headlines like “Rich Rancher’s Wife Satisfies Horny Cowboy.” They met in an embrace that ignited a fire in them like throwing coal oil on flames. Mouth to mouth, their naked skin pressed together, the intoxication of their mouths spread to their brains.
“The baths can wait,” she gasped, and they fell upon the protesting bed. His fingers searched her pubic region and soon his thumb and forefinger began to rub her clit into action, making it arise into a stiff erection. Sprawled on her back, she cried out “Now, now!”
He moved between her raised, parted knees, realizing that she was lubricated enough for his entry. His nearly full erection slipped into her gates and she cried out with a sharp, “Oh!” as he passed through her tight ring. The bed beneath them began to whirl them away into a dazzling form of suspension, like being sucked down into a whirlpool. His efforts to connect with her became superhuman. Her interior began to spasm so hard that the pain shot to his brain again and again until he reached the bottom. Then the cannon fire from his gun rose in the base of his scrotum and, like a shot, exploded inside of her. They collapsed in a pile, and a dark curtain passed between them.
Somewhat recovered, he rose up on his arms to take some of his weight off of her, then he leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Again?”
She blinked her blue eyes in shock, then swallowed. “Hell, yes.”
14
In midmorning while Lea was still asleep, Slocum tiptoed to the dresser and left a small penciled note: I WILL BE BACK.
Then he slipped out the door and went downstairs. He nodded to the clerk and went on out into the bright sunshine. With not a cloud in the sky, a soft southern breeze swept his face. There was plenty of traffic: wagon, buggies, Indian travois, freight haulers headed for the Dakota reservations. A man on a bicycle wobbling through the dried ruts just about collided with Slocum as he sought the far side of the street. He shook his head. Who in hell would use one of those things when there were plenty of good horses to ride?
The Red Lion Saloon’s green batwing doors invited him. Maybe he could learn some word of Hudson’s arrival in this busy berg. No way the man could have made it up here yet, but perhaps someone knew him or knew of some family or acquaintance he’d meet up here. Randle Hudson had some plans for this place—his brother Ulysses was too scared to lie about his destination when Slocum had secured him in the Vinita jail. However, Hudson could be a
iming for Ogallala because of his knowledge of his sister’s location, or it could be the place he’d met a dove he’d taken a fancy to sometime before. Or it could be he’d planned some underhanded thievery that posed an opportunity for him here. If Hudson stepped in Ogallala, Slocum would have a trap set and enough informers to let him know immediately what his location was.
The daytime bartender wasn’t the man he’d met on his last pass through there. The new guy, Ernie, said, “Your friend who used to work here is in Nevada working in some gold strike boomtown.”
“Ernie, that’s fine. I’m looking for a killer. His name is Randle Hudson. He’s headed here from the Indian Territory. May take him some time to get up here, but I’ll pay a hundred bucks if you or anyone locates him when he arrives. He has a sister up here, Penelope Granger.”
The barkeep shook his head. “Don’t know her.”
“Not a word to anyone, but I’ll pay you thirty bucks if you can find her for me. That’s all you’ve got to do, and if you have someone find him who claims the reward and says you sent him, I’ll pay you thirty too.”
Ernie set down the mug of beer in front of him. “Where will you be?”
“Right now at the Grand, but if I change sites, I’ll tell you.”
Ernie checked to be certain that no one could hear him before he spoke. “You’ve got a deal. I can ask around if anyone knows him. But if she’s in town, I’ll find her. Then I’ll get word to you.”
“Wonderful.” Slocum nodded at him and sipped the ice cold beer. That was how beer was supposed to be served—ice cold. Two more bars, and his trap was set with the bartenders in both of them, the Texas Palace and Getner’s Saloon. He went back to the hotel and removed his hat, coming quietly into their room.
Lea bolted up in bed, holding the sheet over her bare breasts. “Oh, my God, I thought you were gone forever.”
“No, I left a note.”
“Sorry, I didn’t look for it.”
“You want breakfast or lunch now?”