by Jake Logan
“So they can steal his silver.”
“Exactly. Pa would never tell them where Obie lives.”
“But those jaspers at the saloon must be searching far and wide for those mines.”
“They are. But Obie’s house is well hidden, and fortified. He has men working for him who are armed and would shoot any intruder. Uncle Obie’s a very private person, almost like a hermit.”
“But he can’t hide from those thieves forever,” Slocum said. “Eventually, they’ll find out where he lives.”
“Maybe. But I doubt they would find any of his mines. Uncle Obie keeps them well hidden.”
“Anything can be found,” Slocum said. “It’s just a question of time. Meanwhile, I think your uncle is in danger. Does he know about the men who are looking for him? Does he know what they did to his brother?”
Penny shook her head.
“No, he doesn’t,” she said. “He doesn’t come here often and I’m afraid to ride out to tell him. I’m afraid someone might follow me.”
“That’s a possibility,” Slocum said. “Would you trust me to talk to your uncle and tell him about Jethro?”
“Let’s go into the front room,” she said. “Pa can probably hear us, although he seems to be unconscious.”
“Sure,” Slocum said. He followed her into the front room. She sat in a chair and waved him to the sofa. He sat down.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she said, “but Uncle Obie is due to stop by at any time. In fact, I expected him yesterday. I’d rather wait until he shows up. He’s very careful. He never rides the same trail to our house, and he always comes at night.”
“I see,” Slocum said. “Sure, whatever you think is best. Maybe I’d best be on my way. I was headed for Albuquerque to look at some horses that I might resell to the Army at Fort Craig.”
“Is it urgent?” she asked. She sat there so prim and reserved, literally on the edge of her seat, that he thought she might sprout wings and fly away like a bird at any moment. He realized that she was scared and still worried about her father.
“No, I don’t have a timetable,” he said. “But you probably don’t want a stranger hanging around.”
“You have a bedroll,” she said. “And I’ve loads of soft pillows. If you don’t mind sleeping on the floor, I’d like you to stay until Uncle Obie shows up. It could be tonight or tomorrow night.”
“Or next week,” he said, so quickly he regretted it. He saw her stiffen and slide back in her chair as if he had punched her.
“No. If it’s more than three days, you’re free to go. I—I just feel safer with you here, and my father does need tending.”
“You don’t have to go to work in town?”
“No. I told the doctor I’d be away for a few days. There’s another nurse. They can manage without me.”
“I’ll stay, then,” he said. “But . . .”
“But what?” she said.
“It might not look good.”
“To whom? The town doesn’t care. I have no close friends. It’s been just Pa and me and his brother. I don’t care what people say.”
He knew he liked her then, for what she had said, for what she was.
A ray of sunlight fell on her face and made it shine with a golden radiance. At that moment, he would have laid down his life for her.
“I’ll fix you a nice supper,” she said.
“Obliged.”
“Oh, you don’t have to feel obligated. I have to eat and maybe I can pour some soup into Pa. He’s thin as a rail.”
“If I can be of any help in tending to him, you just let me know,” he said.
“Why, thank you. I’ll surely call on you if need be.”
He looked at her and shook his head.
“What?” she said.
“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking how unfair life can be. In your case, you seem to have run into a stretch of bad luck. It’s sad, that’s all.”
“You’re a very compassionate man, John Slocum. I feel lucky to have met you.”
He didn’t know what to say, but he felt a warmth suffuse his flesh and it had nothing to do with the sunlight that sprayed the room, soaking up some of the coolness. It had to do with the sincerity of her words and the beauty of her nature.
Penny, he decided, was a woman to ride the river with. Any river. Anywhere on earth.
She left him, then, to tend to her father, and Slocum walked outside and around the house to get his bedroll.
For the first time in many months, he felt at home.
4
Slocum watched the way Penny served their supper. Each dish she laid down on the table seemed special. She moved with grace and poise through the shadows and the candlelight, like a dancer making entrances and exits on a lighted stage.
When she sat down opposite him, she smiled.
“There,” she said. “Now we can eat.”
She bowed her head and brought her hands together in an attitude of prayer. Her lips did not move and she made no sound. Slocum sat frozen until she had finished saying silent grace.
The sun was setting and Penny had lit two candles on the table. Lamps glowed on other tables and shelves, their light mingling with the last radiance of the sun as it splashed through the open windows and painted the adobe walls.
“How’s your pa doing?” Slocum asked.
“Sleeping. I gave him more laudanum. Sleep is a powerful curative.”
She opened a pot and forked meat onto Slocum’s plate. The smell was delicious.
“Lamb?” he said.
She laughed. “Yes, lamb chops. Uncle Obie gets them from a Basque who raises sheep in the foothills. I have a springhouse, which you haven’t seen. The meat cures out there and stays cool from a spring seep.”
She set boiled new potatoes on his plate, and scooped up a small pile of green succulents cut into cubes.
“What are those?” he asked.
She laughed and dipped some onto her own plate.
“Try them, and then I’ll tell you,” she said.
Slocum spooned a few cubes into his mouth, chewed them.
“Very tasty,” he said. “I’m still mystified, though.”
“The Mexicans call them nopalitos tiernos,” she said. “They take the young prickly pear cactus, remove the spines from them, and dice the cactus. They’re very good in chili, and I keep them in glass airtights.”
“In the springhouse,” he said, and they both laughed.
“Yes. It’s quite deep, like a cellar, and is naturally cooled by the seeping spring.”
He cut a chunk of lamb and forked it into his mouth.
“The food is delicious,” he said. “You’re a fine cook.”
“My uncle said that if I ever gave up nursing, he would hire me as a cook. I try to keep it a secret from everyone else.”
The candlelight softened her features and hollowed out her eyes with shadows except when she lifted her head to look at him. Then, her eyes shone like star sapphires, blue as an April sky.
Toward the end of the meal, Slocum felt something brush against his boot. He ignored it, until it began to travel up to his trousered leg. He reached down and touched a bare foot. Toes kneaded his trousers and pressed against the flesh of his leg.
She looked at him and smiled, her eyes hollow with shadow, invisible. Her laugh was soft and merry as a child’s.
“Are you flirting with me, Penny?” he asked.
“A little,” she said. “I didn’t realize how lonely it was out here until Pa was kidnapped and until you came here. Forgive me for being so forward.”
“Nothing to forgive, Penny. Everyone gets lonely.”
“I’ve had my schooling and my work. I never lacked friends. Until we came here. To this godforsaken place.”
“Why don’t you move into town?”
She made a guttural sound of disgust.
“Ugggh. I’ve seen the men and women of Socorro. No thanks.”
“But you work there.”
“I didn’t for a long time. Until Pa scolded me. He said I was driving him crazy with my knitting, sewing, trying to garden on land that will only grow gourds and weeds. I had a nursing degree, and there was a clinic in town. I ride there every morning and come home at night so tired I can’t think.”
“But you like nursing,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“I love it. But it’s very demanding and leaves no time for . . . for other pursuits, and besides, the men and women who have approached me, I find revolting.”
“That’s too bad,” he said. “And sad.”
“Yes, it’s sad, and I’m acting foolish. But I’ve never met anyone like you, John. Not in nursing school back in Nashville, or out here.”
“How was your pa kidnapped?” he said, to change the subject. He did not want to hear her life story. Not just yet.
“The Socorro Saloon employs glitter gals, women of ill repute, ladies of the night, whatever you want to call them. Pa met one of the girls who worked there and started sparking her. She lured him there, if you ask me, like a modernday Siren.”
“One of the glitter gals?”
“I’m not sure. I know he met Maria Luisa Echeverria at the Socorro Saloon. She was poor and he felt sorry for her. She was much younger than Pa, and I think her mother was a glitter gal, a woman named Miranda. Pa wanted to marry Maria Luisa, and she told him he would have to ask permission from her mother. When he went there to the saloon one night, he was overpowered by some men and never came back home.”
“Did Maria Luisa know he was going to be kidnapped?”
“I don’t know. Probably. Certainly Miranda did. She’s a witch.”
“You met her?”
“At the clinic. John, this is all very depressing to think about.”
“Sorry,” he said.
Penny withdrew her foot, then touched him again with her patty-toed caresses as they both finished up their meals.
“I’ll clear up the dishes,” she said. “Why don’t you smoke one of those cheroots in the front room and I’ll join you when I finish. Would you like some brandy?”
“No thanks,” he said. “I have a bottle of Kentucky bourbon in my saddlebag. I might have a taste of that.”
“Maybe I’d like a taste of that, myself,” she said.
“I’d be pleasured if you would.”
She smiled at him as he arose from the table. He smiled back and walked into the front room.
He was just lighting up when Penny appeared with two small glasses and set them on the little table in front of the sofa.
“For the drinks,” she said. “Do you want a glass of water?”
“No. I drink it straight.”
When she went back to the kitchen, he dug out his bottle of bourbon and set it on the table with the two glasses. He smoked his cheroot down to the size of a fingertip and put it out in the ashtray.
The sky outside glowed with a flaming sunset and he heard the distant yaps of coyotes and the sizzle of insects. The lamp made the room dance with shadows and sprayed a warm glow on the polished tables and chairs. It was quiet when Penny entered the room. She was wearing a filmy blue nightgown that reflected the color of her eyes. The gown clung to her lithe form and he realized it was made of silk. When she sat down, he saw the flash of her bare legs and felt a tug of desire in his loins.
He poured bourbon in both glasses. She looked at his bedroll all laid out against the wall in one corner of the room.
She took the drink he handed her.
“Shall we clink glasses?” she said.
“Only if there’s a toast to give.”
“I have one,” she said, a slight smile carving her lips into a curve. “To a wonderful friendship.”
She touched her glass to his and it made a soft clink.
“Long may it last,” he said.
She sipped her drink. He swallowed a mouthful. It went down smooth and warm.
“Very nice,” she said, and glanced at his bedroll again.
“This floor is so hard,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep on the soft sofa?”
“No, the floor is fine. I would have slept on hard ground tonight if I hadn’t met you.”
“I have a soft bed,” she said. “Big enough for two.”
“Are you offering me something?” he asked, fixing her with a bold stare, his eyes like obsidian flint.
“You are young and handsome. I am single, and so are you.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Sure of what? Myself? No. Of you, yes. There is something about you that I find appealing. Attractive, too. Your manliness. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“But you don’t know me, Penny.”
“How would I know you unless we slept together and made love. Much could be learned in my bedroom, I think.”
“You’re an unusual woman, Penny. You’re very observant and you have a bold streak in you. I like that in a woman.”
“Oh, I am not so bold. I’m very timid, in fact. But I think you would be tender and loving with me. Yes, that is what I have observed. You were that way with my father and . . .”
“I would like to sleep with you in your soft bed,” he said. “I can’t guarantee how much sleep we’ll get.”
She laughed and drank more of the bourbon. Her eyes took on a shine, and her face glowed with the rush of alcohol through her veins.
Slocum drank more of his drink and watched her to see if the liquor took her down or up.
Up, he decided, and that was a good sign.
“Another?” he asked.
“No, I’ve had quite enough of your good Kentucky bourbon. I’m tired and would like to go to bed now. Will you come with me?”
“No gentleman could refuse you, Penny,” he said and finished his drink.
He stood up and walked over to her. He lifted her from the chair, and she was light and willing. He put his arms around her. She pressed into him, and he felt her soft breasts yield against his chest. She raised her head, and her eyes were moist, her mouth slightly open. He kissed her, and she squeezed him with her arms, pressed her lips hard against his.
He felt the heat of her seep through his clothes, warm his flesh. She was pliant and willing, he thought, as he held her fast and locked his lips on hers. Then, he felt her tongue dart into his mouth and lave his own tongue. So, he thought, she was experienced. At least in the art of kissing.
When they broke their kiss, she whispered to him.
“Come with me.”
He followed her into a dimly lit bedroom with shades pulled closed over the windows. The lone lamp on the nightstand was turned low. It gave off a subtle scent of lavender flowers.
“Do you like the smell?” she asked.
“Very seductive.”
“Good, because I want to seduce you.”
He wondered how experienced she was. He wondered how many men she had lured into her boudoir.
As if reading his thoughts, she said, “You are the first man who has been in here. I’m afraid I have a strong fantasy life.”
Slocum said nothing because she was unbuckling his gun belt with deft fingers. He reached down and helped her. He buckled the freed belt and she took it from him, hung it over one of the bedposts.
“You can take off your boots and clothes,” she said as she turned down the bed. He sat down and pulled off his boots.
She sat on the edge of the bed and began to undress. She was all shadowy curves and angles as her arms and legs moved outside the small emblem of feeble yellow light. He shucked his clothes and left them in a dark puddle on the floor next to the chair.
He arose and walked to her, his cock throbbing and growing harder with each step. She took it in both her hands and kissed its crown. Her lips sent a shiver of electricity up his spine. His loins churned with desire.
She fell back on the bed and pulled him to her. They embraced and rolled to the center of the bed. She grasped his stalk and spread her legs, pulling hi
m even closer.
“It’s just as I had imagined,” she breathed, and his cock throbbed with engorged blood.
“You have a pretty good imagination,” he husked as he bent to kiss her.
“Ummm,” she moaned. “The real thing is much better,” she crooned as they kissed again.
Outside, the moon rose and cast a gauzy light into her bedroom. In the distance, a pack of coyotes yodeled, and it was sweet music to Slocum’s ears. The wild things are out tonight, he thought, and I’m among ’em.
Penny was soft and yielding as he let his weight fall on her naked body.
5
They kissed long and with passion. She rolled beneath him and took him with her as she thrashed with desire.
“My panties,” she breathed as she broke their kiss. “They’re still on.”
Slocum laughed and reached down. He felt the silky fabric, pulled her panties down past her knees, and then slipped them off her feet.
“Better?” he said.
“I feel like a fool,” she said.
“You don’t feel like a fool to me, Penny. You feel like a woman.”
“Oh, I’m so hot, John. I’ve never been this hot.”
“In a good way, I hope.”
“A very good way,” she said, and he felt between her legs, touched the wiry thatch of her pubic hair. He stroked the crease of her sex and she wriggled beneath him. She thrust her hips upward, and he slid his middle finger into her cunt. She was wet, and the wet was warm. He touched the tiny trigger inside, and she arched her back as a spasm of pleasure made her loins buck.
“Oooooh,” she sighed. “You’re touching it. The little man in the boat.”
Slocum suppressed a laugh. He flicked his fingertip over the top of her clitoris and she shook all over. Warm liquid flowed over his finger as she gushed with precoital fluid.
“Oh, John,” she screamed softly, “take me, take me.”
“Not yet,” he husked in her ear. “Not just yet.”
“Oh, oh, oh,” she exclaimed, her body writhing as if she were on a torture rack. Slocum stroked her clit, and her hips rose up and down. Her legs trembled with desire, the flesh of her inner thighs all a-quiver as if she were being electrocuted with a mild current.