One Hard Ride

by M. M. Bordeaux

  Justin leaned in over her shoulder. “What about the signature? Does it look real?”

  “There is no signature. Just the line with the April ‘89 date and title. But that’s better than a signature. That ties this illustration to Rawhide Outlaws, which is a well-documented publication. If the magazine actually used the illustration, and I’m almost certain I’ve seen it, we’ll be able to find it.”

  She turned to Jake. “Do you notice anything in particular about the date?”

  Jake examined it a moment then looked her with a sly smile. “Well, the tail on the nine is straight.”

  “As an arrow,” she added.

  They studied the painting for several minutes. Finally Justin said, “So if this is the real deal, actually painted by Randell, it could be worth a lot of money, right?”

  She smiled. “It could be,” she said. “Maybe not as much as a large oil. But yes, it would be worth a lot.”

  “Millions?”

  “Oh yeah,” she said. “Millions.”

  Justin turned the painting over again and reread the note. “So this may be a note Randell wrote to our great grandfather Odel. In the letter Great Granddad Odel wrote to his mother, he said an artist named Kid Randell gussied him up like a gunslinger. And he said he gave the artist some blank canvas from the chuck wagon. This note on the back of the illustration confirms what Great Granddad Odel wrote doesn’t it? It must be a real Randell.”

  It looks real to me,” Amanda said. “But let’s not get our hopes up too high just yet. We got shot down with the painting at the lodge. I need some time to really study this and compare it to the printed illustrations in Rawhide Outlaws.”

  “Then let’s get back so you can get busy.” Justin said. “Our future is in your hands.”

  “No. Your future may be wrapped up in this bedroll.” She cautioned.

  “If it gets authenticated,” Jake said.

  Amanda could see that the roller coaster of good news, bad news he had been riding had made him cautious. She couldn’t blame him or Justin for having doubts. “It will be Jake. I’m almost certain of it. But I need some time with the illustration and my computer.”

  Jake had rolled the painting up in the bedroll again and handed it to her.

  She took the bedroll, handling it carefully. “Do you trust me with this?”

  “Totally,” he said.

  Jake took it much slower on the drive back to the lodge. So much so that she had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him to speed things up. She was certain she had seen the gunslinger illustration before. And she remembered a reference to the Hot Lead for Horse Thieves title. She could hardly wait to get back to her research.

  In her room, she opened the bedroll and laid the painting on the bed. She flipped open her laptop and began the search. It took her less than ten minutes to find what she was looking for. She also found some related information that made her heart race.

  A knock on the door startled her. When she opened it, she was surprised to see Jake standing in the hallway. Outwardly he was his calm, taciturn self. But she knew that inside he must be churning with excitement and anticipation.

  “Find anything yet?” he asked.

  “Look.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room, then turned the computer to face him. “Fortunately, the folks at Rawhide Outlaws were meticulous about keeping records of their publication.”

  The screen of her laptop was filled with an illustration that looked identical to the original canvas lying on the bed. The only difference was that the handwritten note on the original had been replaced with a printed caption in italic that read, “Fast as Lightning.”

  “And look at this.” She scrolled down below the picture to a block of text that read: “Gunslinger illustration by CM Randell. Purchased April 1889. Price $85. Printed June 1889. Original returned to artist.”

  “Jake, we’re building a chain of evidence that will be hard to refute. I’ve got to spend more time with this, but right now I’m betting my reputation on it being real.

  “I do have to tell you that illustrations are fairly easy for a forger to copy because they have the printed work to go by. But the artist has to be really good because even minor mistakes or discrepancies will show up in a comparison. If this painting is a forgery, and I don’t think it is, it’s better than the painting that got destroyed.”

  She looked at him, her face still beaming with excitement. Her enthusiasm was contagious and he returned her smile, his eyes twinkling. He reached for her with both hands and held her waist, pulling her toward him. She let her body mold into his, happy to see the sparkle returning to his expression.

  “I’m really glad you saw the bedroll in the rafters,” he said.

  “It was sheer luck.”

  He pulled her close and leaned down to kiss her. “You are an amazing woman.”

  She gave him a quick kiss and then pushed away. “Later. I’ve got to get back to my computer. And I need to call my boss.”

  “All right,” he said, moving through the door. “Until later.”

  She spent the rest of the afternoon researching Rawhide Outlaw Publishing and the gunslinger art.

  At seven-thirty she called Richard. Her last conversation had been about the destruction of the pots and blankets in the cabin. This time she had good news. Very good news.

  “Oh my God!” He cried, when she told him about the painting and how it was discovered. “Do you really think it’s genuine, Mandy?”

  “I do. Right now, I would stake my reputation on it. There’s overwhelming evidence that points to it being the real thing. It’s been tucked away in the rafters of the cabin for a hundred years or more. I’ve studied it all afternoon, comparing it to illustrations printed by Rawhide Outlaws. We’ve got the printed illustration to compare it to and the written notes and letters that tie it all together. I swear it looks authentic, Richard. I want to bring it with me when I come back to New York.”

  “And not send it to Montana?”

  “No. Under normal circumstances I would. But you know those academics. They might take weeks or months to come to a decision. The Morgans don’t have that much time. Chi Long is making a cash buy for the first phase blanket and Onapi pot, but they still need another quarter million by the end of the month. We might speed things up, but I need the painting in New York.”

  Richard was hesitant, but finally said, “All right, Mandy. But I don’t want you to leave without it being insured. Send me photos of it and I’ll get it insured for say, four million, on the strength of your analysis. PP&C will cover the cost of the premium. Then we need to revise the contract with the Morgans. It can be basically the same as before, just substitute the new painting for the old.”

  “I’m sure the Morgans will be fine with that. Now, let me tell you what I have in mind.”

  It took her half an hour to tell Richard what she wanted to do. When she finished, he said it might be a long shot but it was worth a try. She e-mailed him several pictures of the illustration, both the front with the gunslinger art and the back with the note to Odel Morgan. When she finished, she realized she was starving.

  She rolled up the small canvas and took it downstairs. Jake and Justin were in their office. They were both in far better spirits than they had been on the trip up to the cabin that morning.

  She smiled at their change of mood. Unrolling the canvas, she laid it on the desk. “PP&C is e-mailing a revised contract,” she said. “Essentially the same as before, with the gunslinger illustration substituted for the original art. And Richard is insuring the illustration for four million. That’s not to say it will bring that much when we sell it. We just want to make sure if something happens, we are well covered.

  “One more thing,” she added. “I’d like to take the painting with me to New York.”

  “Not send it to the museum in Montana?” Justin asked.

  “No. I have a plan I think will speed up authentication. But I need the painting in New York. If y
ou have a mailing tube, I can tuck it in my carry-on. I’ll have it with me the whole trip.”

  “No problem,” Justin said. He opened a cabinet door and took out a plastic tube just large enough to hold the roll of canvas.

  “You are still planning on leaving tomorrow?” Jake asked.

  “Yes. I am.” She wasn’t sure if the hint of sadness she suddenly felt was from his question or her own heart.

  “So tonight will be your last night here?” Justin said.

  “I’m afraid so. We need to get the painting looked at as quickly as possible. And I need to get back to work.”

  Rosita called everyone for supper. Julie and Luke were there and, as they went to the dining room, Jake quietly said, “Let’s not say anything about the illustration, okay?”

  “Sure,” she said. “I think that’s wise.”

  After supper, Luke and Julie invited Amanda to join them for another night at the Rusty Buckle.

  “I’ll make sure no asshole tries to lasso you,” Luke said.

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass. I need a night to rest up. It’s probably best if I avoid that much entertainment.” She looked from Luke and Julie to Justin and Jake when she demurred, silently letting them know she wanted to spend the night alone. She sensed both Luke and Justin were disappointed. But she had already indulged in more sex in the past five days than she’d had in five months in New York. And not just sex. She’d had great sex.

  After supper, she watched Jake and Justin walk through the main room to their shared office, their tight asses almost begging to be caressed. For a moment, she thought spending her last night at the ranch with Jake and one of the other cowboys might not be such a bad idea. But then they closed their office door, and she decided to stick with her decision to spend the night alone.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Amanda took another long hot bubble bath in the claw-foot tub. At home she usually showered, her tub being much smaller and not nearly as luxurious. As she soaked in bubbles up to her neck, she thought about the roller coaster ride they’d been on. It seemed every high point had been followed by disaster. But, she felt certain that, unless she got blown away in a tornado, finding the gunslinger art was not going to be shattered by bad news. It was, however, critical to get the painting appraised and sold by the time the Morgan’s note was due at the bank. There was no guarantee she could pull it off, but it was their best shot.

  She got out of the tub and dried off, then slipped on her sleeping tee. She turned off her bedside lamp and opened the drapes. The stars were once again brilliant, a vast, deep bowl filled with diamond points of light.

  Just as she turned away to get in bed, she saw a movement on the balcony. She stepped to her doorway and looked more closely. It was Jake, outside his room, leaning against the balcony railing and looking up at the same night sky. He was barefoot and shirtless, wearing only a pair of jeans. She reached for her door handle, then hesitated. If she went out onto that balcony, it would be a while before she got to sleep. Then she remembered how wonderful it had been making love with Jake. This might be her last opportunity for a long time. Maybe forever.

  She opened her balcony door and stepped outside into the warm Texas night.

  Jake turned his head when he heard her door click open. In the starlight, she could see him smile. She walked up next to him and turned to lean against the railing.

  “Trouble sleeping?” he asked.

  “A little. How about you?”

  “Well, it has been one hell of a day.” She could see his grin even in the dim light.

  “Yes. It has.” She turned toward him. “I’m so sorry about the pots and blankets, Jake. I really am. But you do have the painting.”

  He turned to face her. “Thanks to you.” His muscles rippled in the starlight.

  She reached out and put one hand on his chest. He moved a breath closer and put his hands on her waist, pulling her close. She tilted her chin up to meet his lips, their tongues probing, searching each other’s mouths. Her pussy moistened and her nipples stiffened against his chest. She reached down, cupping his cock with her palm. He was hard, rigidly erect. They continued to kiss and she stroked his erection, their passion growing.

  Suddenly, she felt another presence. A warm breath on the back of her neck and pressure against her ass. She started to pull away but Jake held her close, continuing the kiss.

  ****

  “Is there room for one more?” Justin slid his hands around to angle her slightly away from Jake’s chest. Jake could feel his brother’s hands as Justin cupped her breasts, fondling her nipples through her T-shirt.

  She broke the kiss and looked up at Jake, her dark eyes wide. He looked at her, waiting for her reaction. “That’s entirely up to Amanda,” he said.

  “Oh God,” she whispered, her breath shallow, her voice husky.

  Justin was holding her waist, nuzzling her neck with his lips and tongue. He leaned in close, whispering in her ear. “Amanda?”

  She sighed deeply. Jake felt her slide one hand around behind her to palm Justin’s cock. She turned her head, whispering over her shoulder. “Yes, Justin. There is room for you.”

  “Give me a minute,” he said. “I’ll get some condoms.”

  As Justin went to his room, she looked up at Jake, her eyes imploring. “Are you okay with this? Having Justin…”

  Jake looked at her for a long moment, his gaze earnest. Then he slowly smiled. “I know you want this. You were so turned on when we talked about it. I think it’s an experience you need. An experience I’m pleased to help make happen.” She gave him a slight smile. “I care about you, Amanda, deeply. Enough to help you discover all the sexual pleasure you deserve.” He studied her expression. “You do want this, don’t you?”

  She closed her eyes and took a breath. “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh God, yes I do, as long as you’re with me.”

  Jake gripped the tail of her T-shirt and pulled it up. She helped, lifting her arms as he stripped it up and off. He stripped his jeans off, shoving them aside with his foot. Justin was back in a moment, handing him a condom. As Jake rolled it on, Justin quickly shucked off his jeans. Amanda melted into Jake’s arms for a kiss. After a moment, he turned her around for a deep open-mouthed kiss from Justin. Even from his perspective, their bodies shown luminously in the starlight.

  Amanda faced Justin, her back pressed tight against Jake’s chest. She reached back, her hand searching for his cock. He reached down, stroking her pussy with his fingers, sliding through the creamy moisture of her arousal. “God your pussy is wet. You really want this, don’t you Amanda? Feel how hard my cock is? I want it, too. We’re going to give you exactly what you want. Exactly what you need. Right, Justin?”

  “And then some,” Justin said. He reached down and grasped her ass, lifting her until her bare feet were off the balcony deck. As she spread her legs Jake could see Justin’s cock probing the wet folds at the entrance to her pussy. Then he was inside her, his cock sliding deep.

  “Oh God,” she whispered. “Yes! Fuck me!”

  She shifted against Jake’s chest as Justin lifted her ass up and down, sliding his dick faster and faster in and out of her pussy. Jake held her back and shoulders, supporting her as his brother fucked her with deep steady strokes. Amanda, off her feet and unable to control her movements, had surrendered completely to the two men. Her neck was arched, her head back against Jake’s chest. She looked up, her breath shallow, her eyes glazing with pleasure. Jake smiled as he held her for Justin’s penetration.

  “Squeeze your breasts, Amanda,” Jake said. “Pinch those pretty nipples.”

  She complied, lifting her hands to her breasts, pinching the large pebbles between her thumbs and forefingers. She reacted immediately to the added stimulation, her hips bucking against Justin’s driving cock.

  “Oh God,” she whispered. “Oh God! Oh God!” she repeated, her voice rising. “I’m going to come. Fuck me, Justin. Don’t stop.”

  Justin fucked he
r faster, plunging deep as he gripped her hips tightly. Her body twisted in Jake’s arms and he held her tighter. She slid one hand down from her breast to her clit, rapidly stroking the engorged bud and propelling herself into climax. Jake clutched her closer as her orgasm wracked her body, her heat threatening to ignite his own and spark a spontaneous orgasm. As she jerked and twisted in his arms, her pussy filled with Justin’s cock, a wail of ecstasy echoed through the night. Jake had to hold on tight to keep from dropping her writhing, thrusting body.

  Watching Amanda being fucked to orgasm by Justin stimulated all of Jake’s voyeuristic impulses and his arousal level rose to red line. His turn to pleasure her couldn’t come soon enough to ease the ache in his rock hard erection.

  ****

  With a final shudder, Amanda’s orgasm subsided and she was still, gradually trying to absorb the amazing pleasure. Justin gently lowered her hips and let her legs slip slowly to the deck. Jake helped her find her balance, lifting her upright but holding on, letting her get used to standing on trembling legs.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. “That was amazing.” She paused quietly for moment, regaining body consciousness, then asked shyly, “Did I scream?”

  Jake chuckled. “Just a little.”

  “The ranch hands probably thought it was a coyote,” Justin added.

  She felt her cheeks grow warm. The lack of inhibition that allowed her to enjoy incredible orgasms came with unintended side effects—Amanda was extremely vocal in her pleasure. She sighed. “How many coyotes do you have around here that scream, ‘Fuck me Justin!’ “

  She finally gained control of her quivering legs and turned toward Jake. He pulled her close and kissed her, then said “Now it’s my turn. Turn around.” She grinned up at him then turned her back to his chest. “Spread your legs,” he said. “And put your hands on your knees.”

  Amanda followed his directions quickly, anticipating the pleasure she knew he was capable of stirring in her body. She tilted her bottom up, her pussy at the perfect height for Jake’s cock. Justin discarded his condom and stepped in front of her. The men had placed her perfectly; she could suck Justin’s cock while Jake fucked her from behind.