Although she was a little scared, she decided maybe she could take care of herself. But she did check her squalid little room to make sure there was a lock on the door. Maybe she could save up enough money to leave this area forever. She wouldn’t let herself think any farther ahead than that.
That afternoon she managed all right. Business would be slow until dark, the sweaty-jowled bartender had told her. Then it would be hell with the lid off because it was payday for the track crews who kept the trains running.
Mercy! He was right, Luci thought as night came on and the place began to fill up. By dark, the saloon was full of soldiers, trappers, railroad men, renegades, and drifters. The faro tables were busy, the off-key piano loud, the beer flowing. She pushed her way through the crowd to deliver mugs to a table of rough-looking men playing cards in the early summer heat.
“Hey, girlie!” A brawny man in a dirty plaid shirt and heavy beard reached out and caught her arm as she passed his table.
“I’ve got work to do,” she said, and tried to pull out of his hairy-armed grasp.
He laughed, let her go, and she carried the beer to the table behind him, set it down, and wiped her perspiring face. “Honey,” said a lout at that table, taking a big gulp and wiping his mouth on his sleeve, “you ain’t hardly big enough to carry that!” He slapped her on the rump as she passed.
Over at the piano, a blowsy, painted whore began to sing: “De Camptown ladies sing dis song, Doo-dah! Doo-dah! De Camptown racetrack, five miles long, oh, doo-dah day . . .”
With a weary sigh, Luci turned, went back to the bar, and picked up another heavy tray of drinks. “Where do these go?”
The barkeep wiped the shiny sweat off his jowls. “The bearded gorilla’s table.”
She hesitated, “Him?” She looked toward the big man in the dirty plaid shirt. He grinned back at her, apparently waiting for her to come to the table.
The bartender pushed the tray at her. “Don’t make such a big thing of it. Let him handle you a little. He’ll tip good.”
She started to ask if the bartender would carry it, but knew by his expression that he wouldn’t.
It was heavy. She balanced it, took a deep breath, and pushed through the laughing, jostling crowd. After setting it on the table, she tried to move away fast. She wasn’t fast enough.
The giant track layer reached out and caught her arm again. “Now, girlie, you got time to set and talk awhile with Nick!” He jerked her down on his lap.
She took a deep breath and recoiled as she tried to pull back. He stank.
“I’ve got work to do.” She tried to break his grip. “You let me go, and maybe I’ll come back to your table later.”
“What’s wrong with now?” Before she could stop him, he pulled her against him and covered her mouth with his. His beard was wet with chewing tobacco. Luci shuddered and tried to pull away.
When she struck out at him, he caught her arm and twisted it until she whimpered in pain. “See, Squaw? Be nice to Nick! You got a room we can go to?”
Helplessly, she looked at the men around the table and those standing nearby. Some of them laughed sheepishly; others averted their eyes. Even the bartender got suddenly very busy wiping, the bar and didn’t look up.
She tried again to pull free. Nick laughed and held on to her easily, one big dirty hand going down inside her dress to fondle her breast. Fear made her reckless, and she fought him, but he only laughed. “You got spunk, girlie! That’s how I like ’em. Any you fellas want to share her with me?”
But suddenly all the men seemed to be looking toward the door. Conversation gradually ceased, and even the piano stopped playing.
Nick looked up. “What’s going on, keep that music going! I want . . .”
But there was only silence.
With a sob, Luci’s gaze followed Nick’s toward the front door.
Johnny Ace stood there, feet wide apart, hand on the hilt of the big knife in his belt.
The silence hung heavily over the suddenly silent room. Men begin to back away, clearing a path between the two.
“Mister,” Johnny said so softly, it was almost a whisper, “that’s mine. Let her up and let her up quick!”
“Injun, you got more grit than brains to come into a white man’s saloon.” The man leered back at him, slightly drunk. “If this little blue-eyed squaw is wearing your brand, I ain’t seen it!” Defiantly, he pulled her even tighter into his grip, but his hand reached for an iron railroad spike in his belt and laid it on the table.
Johnny advanced slowly, his hand still on the big knife. “Maybe you don’t hear good. I said, let her go!”
The crowd formed a ring now, an excited buzz going up and rising. Fight! they whispered. Fight!
Luci struggled to move again, knowing the railroad man was big, maybe even bigger than Johnny Ace, and that spike could be as formidable a weapon as Johnny’s knife.
No matter what happened to her, she didn’t want Johnny hurt. “Mercy, Johnny; it’s–it’s okay. I sat down here of my own free will.” She tried to laugh. “Figure the tips would be better!”
But as he advanced, his dark face never changed from its mask of cold, killing fury. “Railroader, maybe you don’t hear so good!”
She felt the man’s muscles bunching under her and shouted a warning as he pushed her to one side and came up out of his chair, armed with the spike swinging wildly. “Okay, Injun bastard! Let’s see you eat Nick’s steel!”
An excited roar went up in the crowd that circled the two as they faced each other warily. “I bet on Nick!”
“No, that Injun looks like he can use that knife! Fifty dollars on the redskin!”
Nick hefted the spike in his hand. “Come on, Injun–” he gestured Johnny toward him–“come on and let me smash your head flat and then I’ll ram this spike up your–”
But Johnny moved, quick as a cat. Three steps and he closed in on the man, skillfully dodging Nick’s wild swing. Then he reached under Nick’s guard and cut him across his hairy belly, exposing it through the dirty plaid shirt.
Then Johnny dodged backward.
Nick stood dripping blood, mouthing obscenities as he put his hand down, brought it up, and stared at the wet, scarlet trickle.
“Johnny, no!” Luci took a deep breath of the scent of blood, saw the look in Johnny’s dark eyes, and knew he meant to kill the railroader. “I’m not hurt! Let him go!”
Johnny shook his head, but he never took his gaze off the man’s face as he advanced again. “No man puts his hands on my woman!”
“The hell I don’t!” Nick snarled. “After I kill you, Injun, I mean to do more than handle her a little. While you’re dying, I want you to see me lay her across a card table, and me and the boys–”
“You filthy bastard!” Johnny moved, fast as a rattlesnake’s strike, up under Nick’s arm, and slammed him back against the wall. The spike flew from the beefy hand. Nick stumbled, and went down. Like a hawk on a wounded rabbit, Johnny was on him, knife drawn back.
Luci caught his arm. “Enough, Johnny! You kill him and you’ll face the law! Don’t! I–I’ll go with you!”
Her words seemed to work some kind of soothing magic. He hesitated and stood up slowly, looking down at the sobbing hulk cowering under his feet. He looked around. “Anybody else want to handle her?”
The crowd backed away, all shaking their heads, keeping their hands out where Johnny could see them.
Now he turned to Luci. “Sometimes I think you’re almost more trouble than you’re worth, Star Eyes.”
“Then why don’t you just stay away from me, and leave me alone?”
“Because you’re mine,” he said firmly. He reached out, took her in his arms, and carried her easily out the swinging doors into the night.
“I was trying to earn some money,” she explained as he put her up on his horse then mounted behind her.
“You were trying to get away from me,” he said against her hair. “I’ll look after you, Luci. You can
move into my quarters.” He turned the horse around.
“In exchange for what?”
He looked down at her, one of his big hands hot on her thigh. “However you want it to be.”
She felt confused by her mixed feelings. “I’m not a whore.”
“No, you’re not. I’d kill the man who called you that. Let’s just say I can’t seem to get along without you; I’m not sure I ever can.”
She looked up at him. “I thought we agreed this can’t work.”
He flinched. “We’ll take each day as it comes and not worry about the future.”
I’ll bet that’s what my mother did, she thought miserably as he nudged Katis into a lope.
They rode in silence back to the fort. As late as it was, nothing stirred but the sentry, who challenged them then waved them on through when he recognized Johnny. They rode to the stable, where Johnny turned over his horse to a sleepy stable boy to bed down. Then he swung her up in his arms and started for his quarters.
“I can walk,” she protested.
“I know that, but I like carrying you.”
There was nothing else to do but relax against his wide chest and let him carry her to his quarters. Once inside, he let her slide to the floor and stood looking at her.
She didn’t like the heat of his gaze in the flickering lamp light. “I’m going back to the trading post.”
“No, you aren’t. I want to know I can finally sleep at night without worrying about some man raping you.”
“Except you, of course?” She took another step, but he turned and locked the door behind him.
“I’ve never done that and you know it.” He advanced.
“No,” she said, “you just put your hands on me, and make me lose all my reason and forget about the consequences.” She put her face in her hands and began to sob.
He came over, lifted her chin with his hand, and kissed the tears away. “Luci . . . Luci . . . you’re the one driving me loco!” He pulled her to him and kissed the corners of her mouth, kissed her cheeks, kissed her tears away.
With a sob, she threw her arms around his neck. “This is crazy!”
“I know it. God, how I know it!” He pulled her against him, patting her back and shoulders the way one does a child. She nestled her face in the hollow of his shoulder, feeling his manhood throbbing hard against her belly.
He was big enough to throw her across his bed and mount her anytime he wanted to, and she knew it. “How can you almost kill a man and then be so gentle with me?”
“You know. Why do you ask?” He kissed along her jawline, running his hands down the backs of her arms as his tongue found her ear and kissed there.
And she wanted him to. It made her weep to think she had so little control over her own body. He went to his knees, his arms clasped tightly around her hips, and buried his face against the soft vee of her thighs.
Hesitantly, she reached down and slid her long skirt up, knowing she wore nothing underneath but wanting his hot breath, his lips, touching her there.
With a groan, he buried his face against her naked body, kissing her there, running the tip of his tongue over the throbbing ridge of flesh. She couldn’t stop herself from grasping his head, pressing him harder against her body. His hand pushed up under her dress, holding her small bottom against him as he kissed and caressed her with his tongue. “Johnny . . . Johnny . . .”
She wasn’t sure she could keep standing as he teased her with his mouth; her legs were threatening to give way beneath her.
Just as she thought she would faint, he stood up, reached behind her to unbutton her dress, and pulled it off her shoulders. It fell at her feet.
“Luci, you’re so very beautiful!” He swung her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
In the flickering lamp light, he pulled off his buckskin shirt, his boots, and stepped out of his pants. She hadn’t known a man’s body could be beautiful–even one scarred by old wounds. His skin was deep brown and his manhood was big, erect, and throbbing.
She had forgotten how big he was. For a moment, she hesitated, her legs tightly closed.
“Luci, submit to me,” he commanded in an urgent whisper. “You want this and you know it; surrender to me!”
Very slowly, she opened herself up like a flower to a bee. He tasted nectar there. She opened herself up even wider, arching up so his thrusting tongue could go even deeper as his lips caressed her velvet ridge.
“Oh, please, Johnny. . . .” She pulled him on top of her. He lay there a long moment before he slipped his body slowly, tantalizing inside hers. Then he rolled her over on top and reached to pull her breasts down to his lips. Luci sat up on him, grinding herself down on his iron bar of flesh. It felt as if she were being rammed up under her breasts every time she came down on him.
His hands gripped her waist and now he began to buck under her. When she leaned over, he caught her nipple between his teeth and laved the tip with his tongue. They were locked together as he shuddered and exploded within her.
Her body began to convulse. Then the bucking stopped and she rode him hard. The last thing she remembered was whispering, “I surrender, beloved enemy, take me . . . take me!”
Winnifred Starrett had had enough! It wasn’t bad enough that she had been stuck at this miserable fort for several weeks because of the stage line shutting down over the Indian trouble; even the one man she found appealing, that Pawnee scout, was more interested in that half-breed laundry girl!
She’d seen them together last night, riding in mounted double on his horse. As she spied on them, he had swung Luci up in his arms and carried her to his quarters. What had happened after that, she could only guess. She went to bed by herself, lying sleepless and restless all night, thinking of what he must be doing to that girl. In a jealous rage, she imagined his hands and mouth all over that half-breed girl, doing to her what no one had ever done to Winnifred and what she wanted done so badly. Because of her father’s women, she hated dark skin, but she had too much of his blood in her not to lust after it.
She lay there, twisting on the hot sheets, trying to decide what to do. Probably she ought to get on the train, go on up to Wyoming, and catch a stage to Denver from there. But suppose the stage from there wasn’t running either? Would Winnifred be any better off stranded in some miserable collection of log huts in the wilds of Wyoming? It didn’t seem any better than what she had.
She could go stay in the tiny town of North Platte just across the river from the fort, but that was an awful place, too. Tomorrow she’d inquire and see if the major knew when the stage to Denver might be running again.
When Winnifred finally dropped off to sleep, she dreamed she had a handsome Indian between her thighs, with another waiting to take his place. They were hung as big as stud bulls, and when they took turns thrusting into her, the throb in her insides finally ceased.
The next morning, Winnifred made a decision to use her father’s power and money to get some action. After all, her father was rich, important, and knew many people in Washington.
Pulling her ebony hair up into a mass of curls on the back of her neck, Winnifred tied the wide cerise sash of her pale pink dress, admired her own trim waist in the mirror again, then picked up her lacy pink parasol, and set off to Major North’s office to find out about the stage.
His window was open in the heat of the day and she heard voices from his office. She was not too honorable to eavesdrop.
“Luther, are you sure he deserted?” The major’s voice.
“No, Frank, I’m not. Like I told you, Cody and I woke up in the hotel room and he was gone. He left this note.”
Intrigued, she peeked over the windowsill to see Major North reading that note while his brother, Captain North, stood by his desk. The handsome scout with the long curls, Cody, sat with one booted foot crossed over his knee.
The major shook his head, then grunted. “I knew Osgoode didn’t like the army–he was too much of a spoiled weakling for it–but I never
thought he’d desert.”
Cody tipped his hat back. “Still, he’s gone without a trace except for this note.”
The major pulled at his mustache. “Maybe he stumbled onto something and someone killed him for it.”
Luther shrugged. “There’s no evidence of that. Maybe this is a trick to confuse us while he goes over the hill to California.”
“Find out anything about the tokens?”
Cody shook his head. “We went to that place, but they acted like they didn’t know what we were talking about. Maybe that dead Injun did take them off some miners.”
“Besides,” Luther broke in, “it was hard to get anyone to talk to us because of all the excitement with the sheriff and all; it seems one of the whores had fallen into a punch bowl and drowned.”
North’s eyebrows went up. “What?”
Cody shook his head. “No big thing. You know how those whores drink. She tried to drink it dry, I suppose, and fell into it before she got to the bottom.”
North sighed, leaned back in his chair, and put his feet up on his desk. “Didn’t you learn anything?”
Luther gestured with frustration. “You have to understand, Frank, Denver is a wild boomtown. There’s lots of men on the run from the law and nobody sticks his nose in anyone else’s business. If anyone knew anything, they weren’t talkin’.”
The major steepled his fingers as he thought. “Maybe Osgoode did desert, and headed for parts unknown. Maybe he left that message to throw you off the trail.”
“Reckon we may never know if he doesn’t turn himself in.” Luther sighed. “Anything happen while we were gone?”
“No, thank God for small favors! We haven’t heard any reports about the Dog Soldiers in days. Maybe they’ve headed back to the reservation, or at least cleared out of this area.”
“Don’t count on it.” Cody looked grim.
Cheyenne Caress Page 24
