Slocum 394 : Slocum and the Fool's Errand (9781101545980)

by Logan, Jake

  “Where’s Ed?” the leader of the outlaws asked. Although he no longer wore his Army coat, he still carried himself as if he had an official rank and was entitled to all the privileges thereof.

  “Doc’s stitching him up,” Slocum replied.

  The sheriff had a round face and coal black hair. Several days’ worth of whiskers sprouted from his chin, which made him look even more tired as he said, “Guess I should go over there to keep an eye on him.”

  “I wrapped him up pretty good, but sitting with him may not a bad idea.” When he saw the tired look on the lawman’s face, Slocum said, “On second thought, why don’t I head back over there?”

  “Naw, I can go. You’ve done plenty already, John.”

  “It wasn’t for free. I’m still getting a cut of that reward money, right?”

  “Sure,” the lawman said. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “The least you can do is buy me a steak dinner.”

  “A bucket of slop’s all you deserve,” the gang leader said from within the cell.

  The sheriff silenced him with a swift kick to one of the bars. “I’m part owner of the Dusty Hill. Dale cooks a fine slab of beef. You can eat there free of charge. How’d that be?”

  “Now that’s right neighborly of you, Mark,” Slocum said. “How about a bottle of whiskey to go along with that steak?”

  “Don’t push it.”

  Slocum conceded the point and strode out of the office. By the time he got back to the doctor’s room on the second floor of the building across the street, Ed was patched up and lying still upon the cot.

  “Passed out,” the doctor said by way of an explanation.

  “He ready to be moved?”

  “It’d be good for him to rest for a day or two. Although I’m a little leery about leaving him here.”

  “Figured you might be,” Slocum said before showing the doctor the handcuffs and leg irons he’d brought over from the sheriff’s office. Once those were in place, the doctor was finally able to let go of the breath he’d been holding. Ed, on the other hand, was barely able to draw a gulp of air as he was shaken awake and forced outside, down the street, and into the sheriff’s jail.

  From there, Slocum walked over to the Dusty Hill Saloon farther down on Main Street. The barkeep tossed him a quick wave and shouted, “Appreciate the show, Mr. Slocum!”

  “And I’d appreciate a drink.”

  A small glass of whiskey was poured in front of him, which Slocum downed in one swallow. The firewater did a nice job of cutting through the grit that had collected in his throat after several days of hard riding. Normally, he would have taken another drink to ensure a good night’s sleep, but he doubted he would need any help in that regard.

  “Got any scalps to hang on the wall?” Dale asked from where he sat beside the barkeep.

  “Better ask the sheriff. I’m about to fall over.”

  Tossing a key to him, Dale said, “Your room’s right where you left it.”

  Slocum trudged up the stairs, walked down the hall to the second door on the left, and fit his key into the lock. The room was dark and quiet. The shades were drawn, but as soon as his eyes adjusted to the shadows, he picked out something other than the pile of blankets on his bed.

  “What took you so long?” Gwen asked in a soft, purring voice.

  Slocum stripped out of his clothes, piling everything on top of his boots in a heap before setting his gun belt within easy reach of the bed. “If your sheriff hired some real deputies, I would’ve been back a lot sooner.”

  He crawled under the blankets, stretched out his legs, and soon felt Gwen’s hands slide across his chest. He couldn’t see much more than the shape of her beside him, but could feel the smooth, warm contours of her naked body brushing against his leg and side.

  “I was worried about you,” she whispered.

  Although his body began to respond to her, he barely had enough wind in his sails to say, “No need to worry.”

  She said something else, but her words were lost when Slocum inadvertently dropped into a deep, all-encompassing sleep.

  3

  Slocum woke up just enough to feel the outside world again. More specifically, he felt the warmth of his blankets as well as the body beside him. The moment he stirred, Gwen shifted as well.

  “Good morning,” she whispered.

  Sunlight scraped at the edges of the blinds, casting the room in a dim, dusty glow. “Feel like I could sleep for the whole day.”

  “You wouldn’t want to do that.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  Gwen’s only response was to slip her hand between his legs so she could rub his inner thigh before cupping him in a gentle hold. Her fingers massaged him, and he quickly became hard enough for her to start stroking his growing length.

  “Oh,” he said. “That’s why not.”

  “You want me to let you sleep?”

  Slocum blinked away some of the weariness and shifted onto his side so he could look at her face while allowing her hand to reach him even easier. She took advantage right away and began stroking his growing erection more vigorously. “I could use some sleep,” he said, “but maybe I could use something else a bit more.”

  “Really? If you need to sleep so badly, I could always let you get back to it.”

  “Too late for that,” he said while pulling her closer. “Now you’ve got to finish what you started.”

  Gwen laughed softly and draped a leg over him. She lay on her side as well, which allowed their bodies to entwine perfectly. Her breasts were just large enough to fill his hand, and her large nipples were already erect. She always liked it when he touched her that way, and this time was no exception. The more Slocum massaged her breast, the harder she stroked him. Finally, he was rigid enough for him to feel a yearning ache throughout the entire lower half of his body.

  Although she stopped stroking him, she didn’t let go. Gwen guided Slocum’s rigid pole until he could feel it touch the damp patch of downy hair between her legs. The tip of his cock slipped between the lips of her pussy, stoking the fire inside them both. When he shifted his hips, he eased in just a little bit more. He stayed there while kissing her hard on the mouth. As he moved back and forth within her, Gwen moaned softly and began scraping her nails against Slocum’s shoulders. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, and her entire body trembled with anticipation. He could only tolerate that for another couple of seconds before rolling Gwen onto her back so he could climb on top of her.

  She spread her legs open wide for him, placing her hands on his arms and gazing up expectantly as he reached down to guide his cock back into her. The instant his hard member found the warmth between her glistening lips, Slocum pushed his hips forward and drove into her so they could both let out grateful breaths.

  Slocum’s first few movements were slow and steady. She was so wet and ready for him that he glided in and out of her with ease. When he buried himself in as far as he could go, he held there and kissed her some more. That way, when he ground his hips between her thighs, he could feel her moan rush directly into his mouth. As soon as he rose above her, Gwen turned her head and clenched her eyes tightly shut. He pumped vigorously into her, giving in completely to what he’d been craving from the instant he felt her smooth, warm body beside him.

  Gwen’s hips moved in time to his rhythm. Every time he entered her, she let out a short, urgent breath.

  Slocum’s chest was raised just enough for him to feel her nipples brushing against it. He reached down to cup her again while straightening up so he was on his knees between her legs. That way, he could look down at her writhing, naked body as she reached down to hastily guide him back into her.

  “Don’t stop, John,” she sighed. “I need you inside me.”

  He closed his eyes and savored the touch of her hand against his erection. When he felt that he was inside her again, Slocum grabbed her legs and positioned them so they rested upon his shoulders when he resumed thrusting to bury his
cock even deeper into her. Gwen started to say something, but her words came out as nothing more than breathy moans. She reached up to grab the headboard and moaned louder every time his body pounded against hers.

  As he drove into her, Slocum ran his hands up and down along Gwen’s legs. Her muscles were taut beneath her skin, and she writhed slowly in response to his every move. When he reached all the way down to cup her backside, he was able to pull her up a bit as he thrust forward. It didn’t take much more to drive her to the breaking point. Gwen bit down on her lower lip as her pussy tightened around him. Slocum drove into her hard and deep until she was shuddering with pleasure.

  It was a sight to behold. The entire front of her body glistened with sweat. Her breasts stood proudly, beckoning to him, so Slocum cupped them in both hands. He massaged the supple flesh while pumping into her as hard or soft as he pleased. After her climax, Gwen opened her eyes and watched him intently. She barely seemed to have the strength to move, but reached up to hold on to his arms. Slocum kept his hands on her breasts, feeling their weight in his grasp as he pumped vigorously in and out of her. The fire in him grew and his blood rushed through his veins, speeding him to the inevitable conclusion.

  He pounded into her once more before exploding inside her. For a moment, he felt as if he had enough energy to charge outside and run all the way to the Canadian border. About two seconds after that, it was all he could do to steer himself to one side before collapsing on top of her.

  Once Slocum had hit the mattress and rolled onto his back, Gwen curled up beside him to drape a leg across his waist and an arm over his chest. “Now that,” she sighed, “was worth waiting for.”

  “Yes,” Slocum breathed. “Yes, it was.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “A little winded, but fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “All right,” he admitted. “Maybe more than a little winded. Just need to catch my breath, is all.”

  Gwen’s voice took a more serious tone as she propped herself up and said, “That’s not what I meant. You’re bleeding!”

  Slocum’s eyes snapped open. Sure enough, the fingers she showed him were smeared with a thin layer of blood. “What the hell?”

  Fidgeting until she could get herself upright with her legs tucked beneath the rest of her body, Gwen allowed the covers to fall away from her so she could look down at him. “I think you’re cut.”

  “Well, you did scratch me pretty good there,” Slocum chuckled.

  Gwen swung herself around and climbed out of bed. Hurrying across the room, she tugged at the shade to expose just enough of the window for a healthier dose of sunlight to enter. Not only did that illuminate the room, but it allowed Slocum to see the smooth contours of her naked body as she rushed back to climb onto the bed. “Yes,” she said. “You’re cut. It’s your arm.”

  Feeling his body responding to the sight of her, Slocum reached out to pull her closer while saying, “It’s fine. Wanna scratch me up some more?”

  “No, John! This is serious.”

  “Done with me already? I must be losing my touch.”

  Gwen looked down at him like a stern schoolmarm. Taking firm hold of his left wrist, she pulled his arm up sharply enough to send a jolt of pain through that entire side.

  “Ow, dammit!” he snarled.

  “See?” she said while shaking her head. “I told you it was serious. Now will you pay attention?”

  Slocum wrangled free of her grip while sitting up so his back was against the headboard. Once he was situated, he looked down at his left arm to find it covered in an irregular coat of blood. It seeped from the wound he’d gotten while riding with Sheriff Reyes and had even soaked into a nasty-looking stain on the sheets. “Aw hell. Tore my damn stitches.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “Yeah,” Slocum said in an impatient tone. “I wonder how that might have happened.”

  She propped her hands on her knees and tried to maintain her stern demeanor. Seeing as how she was still naked and framed in a hazy glow of sunlight, it would have been difficult for her to look anything close to what she was aiming for. “You have a smart mouth, John Slocum. Try not to talk that way to Doc Bower when you see him about fixing those stitches.”

  “Is that his name?”

  “Yes,” she replied while climbing out of bed once again so she could start gathering his clothes. “I would think you’d know that after all the time you spent with him last night.”

  “I spent more time tying a man down like a dog. Besides, I don’t need to see the doctor again. I can stitch myself just fine.”

  “Really? Is that why the doctor had to do the job again for you?”

  Slocum studied his arm as the other man’s evaluation of his stitching drifted through his mind. Although he thought he’d done a better job than the doctor had given him credit for, it was no picnic doing it himself. The first time had been out of necessity. Doing so again would only be an exercise in bullheadedness. “Fine,” he said while pulling on his jeans. “I’ll go, but only because you asked so nicely.”

  “I need you stitched up properly,” she said while helping him into his shirt and buttoning it. “That way you can withstand another night here with me.”

  “Another night, huh?”

  She shrugged before smirking and adding, “Or afternoon. Depends on how quickly you get to Doc Bower’s.”

  That was all the inspiration he needed to pull on the rest of his clothes, buckle his gun belt around his waist, and head for the door.

  “What on earth have you been doing?” Doc Bower asked as he examined Slocum’s arm. “Wrestling wild animals?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Judging by the way he groused at Slocum, the doctor had a good idea of what had caused the tear and didn’t approve one bit. “At least you didn’t try to patch it together yourself this time.”

  “Yeah, Doc. I much prefer the warmth of your company.”

  Bower held him at arm’s length and stared at him through a pair of little round spectacles perched upon the edge of his nose. Before too long, his sunken face broke into a wide grin that seemed like it would have been more befitting a patient who hadn’t survived one of his procedures. “Fair enough. Let me get my things.”

  Slocum sat in a large dentist’s chair in the main room of the doctor’s office. The spot where he’d been stitched up the night before was one floor directly above. Having collected a needle, thread, and smock to wear over his shirt and tie, Bower looked more like a fancy butcher when he started sewing the wound shut.

  The skin was tender after having already been ripped apart three times and stitched twice. If there had been any cobwebs in Slocum’s head after his night’s sleep followed by the morning’s activities, they were banished real quickly once the needle punctured his arm.

  Speaking as if he were conversing over a cup of freshly brewed tea, Bower said, “Sheriff Reyes has been in over his head lately.”

  “Oklahoma Bill is enough to give any lawman fits,” Slocum hissed as the thread was cinched to squeeze together two flaps of skin.

  Bower continued his work. To his credit, he had a smooth enough touch that Slocum might not have felt much of any discomfort if not for the tenderness of the wound. Perhaps wearing his glasses improved the doctor’s performance over the previous night. “Oklahoma Bill. Sounds like one of those names the newspapers latch on to. I prefer to not get wrapped up in all the dramatics of such unfortunate events.”

  “Men like Bill are fond of dramatics. They’re also fond of burning through broken trails and shooting anything that tries to stand in their way. Shouldn’t discredit any lawman who brings in someone like that. Not to mention when he also brings in the rest of the gang.”

  “As I was saying, Sheriff Reyes has been in over his head. Not just with this Oklahoma person, but in general.”

  Hearing the ham-handed way Doc Bower dealt with a simple nickname was enough of an amusement to take Slocum’s mind fr
om the stinging needle and itchy thread.

  “I don’t know if you’ve met the two fellows who fancy themselves as deputies,” Bower continued, “but they’re about as useful as tits on a bull.”

  Not only did that sound unnatural coming from the doctor, but it was fairly obvious it had been spoken as an attempt to talk down to what he thought was Slocum’s level. Since it was still amusing to hear, Slocum let it pass. “I met Stan and Oscar,” he said. “I’d have to agree with your assessment of those two.”

  Bower chuckled, which was the first time his hand wavered enough for Slocum to feel it. “The sheriff is wise to keep them off a payroll. That would only make them lazier, if that’s possible. What he needs is a real deputy. The fact that he chose you for such a dangerous job and had such great success speaks volumes of how well you’d work out in the position.”

  “I was here when the word came through about Bill and his men making their run out of West Texas. I’ve known Mark Reyes for a few years, so was glad to help when he asked. This is a fine little town and he’s been doing a good job of keeping it that way. If he needed more help, he would ask for it.”

  “Mark’s a proud man,” the doctor said. “That’s why he didn’t ask you to stay. So I’m asking.”

  “Appreciate the vote of confidence, Doc, but you shouldn’t let one rough night rattle you so much. Once word spreads about what happened to Bill and his boys once they got here, I doubt any gunman will be too quick to visit this town anytime soon.”

  Since verbal brawls were obviously his preferred arena, Bower steeled himself for another round. “Yes, but isn’t it plausible that there may be friends or associates of this man from Oklahoma that remain unaccounted for?”

  “I’m not even sure if he is from Oklahoma.”

  “Then why on earth would he attach that to his name?”

  Slocum had never been so grateful to hear a piercing scream as he was when one such noise ripped down Main Street since it was loud enough to distract the doctor and end the increasingly maddening conversation. Unfortunately, whoever was doing the screaming seemed to be headed straight for Bower’s office.