The Clint Adams Special

by J. R. Roberts

  “He told me it would be a smart decision to kill you. The only reason he let me come to see you like this is because I doubt Allan would mind if I came back or not.”

  “Damn. That really is some family you got there.”

  “See why I don’t want to associate with them?” Felicia said.

  “Do you at least know what Allan wants with what’s stashed in those caves?”

  “That’s the largest deposit the Prestons have in Old Mexico. It goes on for miles.”

  “Miles?”

  She nodded and leaned forward to speak in a fiercely guarded tone. “It was charted on several different maps and Allan only has part of one. Jeb’s got the others, but they’re not as valuable as the one that got away from him. Allan says there’s enough in there to turn the tide of this fight before it gets out of hand.”

  “Gets out of hand?” Clint chuckled. “You mean it’s not there already?”

  Felicia didn’t find that the least bit funny. “Jeb’s drawn enough of the wrong kind of attention already. Between the Federals and the law, he’s got men in badges coming round every day. Then the gunmen started coming. Lord only knows who hired them, but killers were looking to clean the Prestons out of Texas before me and Allan and the rest decided to pick up stakes and leave. It only gets worse from there.”

  “Yeah. You’re right about that. Just see what you can do about getting me that meeting with Allan.”

  “And if he’ll only talk to your partner?”

  “You’re a persuasive woman. You’ll come up with something.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  When Clint left the saloon, he took a few steps out the door, found a spot where he could put his back to a wall, and took a good look at the street. As usual, there weren’t many people to be found in the immediate area, and the ones he did see weren’t in much of a hurry. They all looked like locals as far as he could tell. At the very least, none of them stood out as gunhands from Texas.

  He didn’t have to wait long before Felicia stepped outside as well. She stepped up to him and asked, “Will I see you later?”

  “You mean for another meeting?”

  “Of a sort. I’d prefer less talking, though.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  That was enough to put a smile on her face and a spring in her step as she walked away. Clint allowed himself to watch her for a few seconds but then he took another gander at the street.

  The same locals were there, doing the same things they were before. If anyone was keeping an eye on Felicia from a distance, they were doing it from too far for Clint to worry about. Just to be on the safe side, he started walking in the opposite direction he truly wanted to go.

  Trujillo was a small enough town that he could have walked around the entire place in little to no time at all. He wasn’t about to take an easy route, however, and he wove through the little Mexican settlement like a drunk trying to find his way home. After taking that overly long walk while checking behind him and all around, he was convinced that nobody was watching him either.

  Clint still took a roundabout way, but eventually arrived at Ramon’s shop. Fortunately, Ramon himself was never far away from his money and other people’s gold. After walking up the creaking stairs attached to the back of the building, Clint knocked on the door.

  There was no answer, so he knocked again. He was about to give up when the door was jerked open so quickly that it nearly made him jump out of his boots.

  “Christ!” Clint said. “I didn’t even hear a board creak.”

  “It’s my place,” Ramon said from behind a sawed-off shotgun. “I don’t have to creak a damn thing if I don’t want to. What the hell do you want?”

  “Has anyone come around asking for anything out of the ordinary?”

  “You mean like Preston gold or train robbers?”

  “Train robbers?”

  “That’s right,” Ramon said as he scowled at Clint over the top of his shotgun. “If you ask me, that is a much better explanation for someone trading so much gold.”

  “So that’s why you haven’t lowered your gun?” Clint asked. “You think I’m a train robber?”

  “That’s what those marshals told me.”

  “Did these marshals show you any badges?”

  Clint got his answer through the uncertain look in Ramon’s eyes and the slight waver in the hands wrapped around the shotgun. Holding both hands out to show they were empty, Clint said, “I just came by to ask if anyone’s been sniffing around about me and I think I got my answer.”

  “They’re not marshals?”

  “You deal in healthy amounts of money and the sort of men that come attached to it. You must have a nose for who’s lying about it and who’s just trying to get their hands on more of it.”

  Ramon lowered the shotgun so the barrel was no longer aimed at a spot between Clint’s eyes but still poised to do some damage if his finger twitched. “Who’s supposed to be asking around about you?”

  “He’s about my height,” Clint told him. “Long, dark hair. Sunken features.”

  “Name?”

  “Allan,” Clint replied. On a hunch, he decided to gamble. “Allan Stone.”

  The shotgun was lowered a bit more. “That ain’t his real name, is it?”

  “It’s close, but no. That’s not his real name.”

  Finally, the shotgun dropped the rest of the way and Ramon stepped aside. “Come in,” he said, “before anyone else gets it in their head that I’m open for business at such an hour.”

  Clint stepped inside. The room was the same size as the shop downstairs, which wasn’t saying much. It felt cramped enough when he was bringing gold in to be assessed but even worse now that he was sharing such close quarters with a bed, a kitchen table, and too many bookshelves. Before shutting the door, Ramon stuck his head out and looked back and forth.

  “Expecting someone else?” Clint asked.

  “There’s been too many sons of bitches circling my shop. And not just the usual kind who are looking to rid themselves of stolen property. They’re a whole new breed attracted by the likes of you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you, damn it!” Ramon grunted as he slammed his door shut. “All that blasted talk of Preston gold and whatnot. It gets the wrong folks all riled up, and this part of Mexico is already bursting with the wrong folks.”

  Clint let out a tired laugh. “Hopefully you don’t lump me in with that group.”

  Ramon laughed as well. It wasn’t until then that he finally seemed to let down his guard to become the same man Clint had dealt with before. “I take it you know this Stone fellow. Apart from the fact that he’s after you, that is.”

  “We’ve met before. He’s posing as a marshal?”

  “Not him,” Ramon said. “It was one of the men with him. Mean-looking bastard. He didn’t say much after clearing a path for Stone. They asked about the gold, but seemed more interested in who was bringing it in.”

  “Did you mention me or George?”

  “Hell no!”

  That surprised Clint. Even though he’d figured Ramon for a man with a backbone, he knew the Mexican didn’t owe him any loyalty that could put him in harm’s way.

  “Don’t get all sentimental about it,” Ramon said after having picked up on something in Clint’s expression. “A man in my line of work has got to protect his customers’ privacy. Unless a customer is some no-good outlaw, which I don’t think you are. If I posed a threat to my customers, that would be bad for business and bad for my health.”

  “That being said, however, more trustworthy customers might be worth a little extra service.”

  “How much service?”

  “If you could point me in the right direction of these men, I’d be much obliged,” Clint said.

  After a short amount of consideration, Ra
mon said, “Doesn’t seem like a stretch, especially since they were so keen on finding you in the first place. They’re staying in a cabin outside of town. At least, that’s where some of them can be found. I didn’t pay them a visit myself, but I was told I can go there with information if I decided to get on their good side.”

  “Can you tell me exactly where this cabin is?”

  “There are a lot of cabins out that way and they only told me a general direction, but I’m guessing that’s so they could see me coming. Considering what part of town it’s near, I can narrow it down to two places that aren’t being used by someone else. If they decided to take over one of the occupied cabins . . .”

  “I can risk it. Thanks, Ramon.”

  “One more thing . . .”

  “Don’t worry,” Clint said quickly. “I’ll make sure you’re compensated for this help. If it pans out, I’ll set aside some gold you can keep for yourself.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say, although I will accept that offer. You should be aware that those men aren’t your only concern.”

  “Oh?”

  Ramon nodded. “Drina came by here and she was fit to be tied. She wanted to know all about what you and George found. I wasn’t about to tell her much of anything, but she already seemed to know. When she didn’t get much out of me, she dropped your name. When that didn’t make any difference, she stomped out of here like she was on a crusade. I gotta tell you, a woman on a crusade is hardly ever a good thing.”

  Suddenly, a few more of the questions in Clint’s mind were being answered. He mulled them over and thought about the next few moves he wanted to make. “Thanks again, Ramon. I appreciate the help.”

  The merchant said nothing, but his eyes remained fixed on Clint. He waited until Clint had the door open and one foot outside before speaking up again. “Clint.”

  Clint stopped and turned around.

  “You can keep that extra payment,” Ramon said. “Just do me a favor and make sure those men don’t come back around here to make good on their threats. I’m not a man who’s easily scared, but it’s only a fool who ignores someone that poses a real threat. Those men . . . they’re killers. I could see it in their eyes.”

  “You’re right about that, and I don’t intend on letting them hurt anyone. Even so, it might be best for you to close up shop for a few days until this matter is straightened out. Is that gold in a safe place?”

  Ramon nodded. “Safest place within a hundred miles.”

  “Good. Keep it there and watch your back.”

  “You do the same, Adams.”

  THIRTY

  The one-room cabin was dark, despite the efforts of a sputtering candle melting into a saucer. Drina sat in a rocking chair, staring at the bag containing several days’ worth of clothing and sundries. There were just enough furnishings for someone to live in the cabin for a short stay. A small bed sat in one corner, and the opposite side of the room contained a square table along with a potbellied stove. All of the windows were covered by filmy curtains. When a man walked past them outside, she could see his shadow rippling across the wrinkled fabric.

  Drina reached into a pocket of her skirt for a Derringer pistol, which she clasped in one hand. The man outside walked straight to the back door, opened it, and entered the cabin.

  “Who is it?” she asked as her grip tightened around the Derringer.

  “Who else you expecting?” VanTreaton asked as he approached her. His tall frame seemed even more imposing beneath the cabin’s low ceiling, and his skin seemed even darker in the shadows. He walked straight up to her and reached down to clamp his grip around Drina’s wrist. Forcing her to reveal the Derringer, he looked into her eyes and asked, “Were you gonna use that on me?”

  “N-No.”

  VanTreaton twisted her wrist until she let go of the pistol. “Damn right you weren’t,” he said while catching the little gun before it hit the floor. Regarding the Derringer as if it were a toy, VanTreaton tossed it aside. “What’ve you got for me?”

  “Clint Adams,” she said. “He’s in town.”

  Suddenly, VanTreaton’s hand gripped her throat. “I ain’t paying you to tell me things I already know.”

  “He—he’s already spoken to . . .”

  “To who? Allan Preston?”

  She tried to speak, but couldn’t get the words out until VanTreaton loosened his grip. Finally, she told him, “No. Felicia Stone met with him. The other one . . . George Oswalt . . . hasn’t turned up yet.”

  VanTreaton smiled. “Good. That means we’ve got some time to kill.” He let go of her throat and held that same hand down to her. Drina took it and was helped up from the chair. “We paid you plenty. You’ll need to prove you were worth it.”

  “I can probably think of a few ways.” With that, she tugged on the edges of her blouse, which was already down far enough to expose her shoulders. She kept pulling while wriggling her upper body until the blouse came all the way down past her breasts.

  He cupped her breasts in both hands and started to rub them. When she let out a little moan, he teased her nipples between his fingers. “You like that, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  VanTreaton couldn’t wait any longer. He ripped off her clothes, tearing some of the material along the way. Although she flinched a few times at his rough, probing hands, Drina didn’t shy away. In fact, she became more aggressive as well by stripping him from his clothing so she could take hold of his stiff cock in both hands.

  “Sit down,” she said.

  Sliding his hands down along her sides, he said, “Yes, ma’am,” before taking a seat in the rocker.

  Drina grabbed the back of the chair and slid her legs beneath the high armrests so she could sit facing him on his lap. Reaching down, she guided him between her legs and took his rigid pole inside her. Between the motion of her body and the back-and-forth movement of the chair, she was soon riding him in long, even strokes.

  He wrapped his arms around her and ran his hands along her back. When they came to a rest upon her hips, he leaned back as much as he could and let her grind up and down on his thick cock. Drina arched her back and pressed her tits against his face. He opened his mouth and began flicking his tongue on her erect nipples.

  VanTreaton licked between her breasts, all the way along her neck, before grabbing the back of her head and kissing her full on the mouth. Their tongues slid against each other and they pumped their hips together in unison. When the chair rocked forward again, VanTreaton grabbed hold of her backside and lifted her in one smooth motion.

  Drina hung on tight by wrapping her arms and legs around him. His cock was still inside her, and she could feel it move with every step. VanTreaton carried her to the table and set her down on the edge of the wooden surface. Spreading her legs wide, Drina rubbed his muscular arms and waited for him to commence. In a matter of seconds, he was pounding into her once again.

  Holding her knees apart, VanTreaton looked down to watch his cock slide in and out of her pussy. He pumped harder until he thrust between her legs like a piston. As her body began to tremble, she moved her hand lower to rub his thick column of flesh as it moved in and out of her.

  Her orgasm came swiftly and she dug her nails into VanTreaton’s shoulders as it swept all the way from the spot where he impaled her to fill every inch of her body. She was still shaking when he turned her around to bend her over the table. Drina grabbed on and pressed herself against the table as VanTreaton settled in behind her. One of his hands rested upon her hip while the other was used to guide his penis between her thighs. Soon, she was filled by him again and she let out a breathy moan until she’d taken every inch of him inside her.

  “Harder,” she grunted. “Harder.”

  He smiled and eased back until he was almost out of her. Then, he drove into her with enough force to shake the table u
pon its legs.

  “Yes!” she wailed.

  VanTreaton kept one hand on her shoulder and placed the other on her hip so he could feel her body tremble as he pounded into her. Drina’s pussy gripped him tightly and her entire body clenched with another climax but VanTreaton wasn’t about to let up. He drove into her in a solid rhythm, burying his cock between her legs while grunting in satisfaction. Soon, he gripped her ass in both hands and pumped one last time before exploding inside her. After he was spent, he gave her rump a few quick pats and stepped away from the table.

  Drina turned around and sat on the edge of the table. One hand wandered between her legs to brush her fingers through the damp thatch of hair between them. “Where are the others?” she asked.

  “Others?” VanTreaton asked as he picked up his pants and started pulling them on. “You only have to keep me happy, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “No. I mean the others that came with you. What if they come in here?”

  “Then they’ll get an eyeful. What do you care anyway?”

  “I don’t. Not really.”

  Buckling his gun belt around his waist, VanTreaton studied her carefully. Even in the dim light coming from the nearby candle, he seemed to be able to look straight through her. “You seem nervous. What’s wrong?”

  “Why does anything have to be wrong?”

  “After what we just did,” he said, “we should both be feeling mighty good. Instead you look like you’re about ready to crawl out of your skin.”

  “You took me by surprise,” Drina said. “That’s all.” She then walked across the cabin to the stove, where a small box of supplies was kept. “I’ve got a little food. Why don’t I fix us something to eat?”

  After watching her for a second, VanTreaton scowled and turned his attention back to finding the rest of his clothes. “Nah. I’ve got things to do. I’ll let Cal know you’re tucked away nice and safe. You should be ready to move. We might be riding out of here at a moment’s notice.”

  “Don’t go,” she said quickly.