by Sharpe, Jon
“Be gentle,” Belinda said again as he set her down.
Fargo unbuckled his gun belt and set it on her dresser. Sitting on the bed, he removed his spurs and let them drop. He tugged out of his boots. Finally he stretched out next to her and reignited her spark by kissing her long and hard.
“What you do to me,” she cooed when the kiss ended. “You positively make my heart flutter.”
“Less talk,” Fargo said.
“I’m sorry,” Belinda said. “I told you I was nervous and when I’m nervous I tend to gab.”
“Put your mouth to better use.”
“As you wish, handsome,” Belinda said demurely, and applied her wet lips to his throat. Her hands were on his chest.
Fargo hiked at her night dress and got it as high as her knees. He delved under and roamed his palm along her satiny skin, ever higher until he slid his hand between her legs. Belinda sucked in a breath and bowed her forehead to his chin.
He ran a finger along her moist slit and she shivered. He parted her nether lips and her whole body shook. He circled her tiny knob with his fingertip and she suddenly gripped him and pumped her hips and cried out.
Just like that, she gushed.
Fargo had barely begun. He kissed her as she thrashed and moaned.
“My heavens,” she whispered when she subsided. “This will be a night I’ll never forget.”
Fargo hiked her dress above her waist and up over her twin globes. Her mounds were like ripe melons. He nipped a nipple with his teeth and she arched. He pinched the other nipple and she glued her hot mouth to his as if seeking to devour him.
For a long while they kissed and fondled. She ran her hands all over him but only above his waist. To encourage her to delve lower, he took her hand and placed it on his bulge.
“Oh!” Belinda exclaimed. “You’re so big.”
“Rub it,” Fargo said huskily.
“You really want me to?”
Of all the stupid questions Fargo had ever been asked, that took the cake. He moved her hand up and down and she took the hint and commenced moving it herself.
“Like that?”
Fargo grunted. The sensations she provoked made it hard not to explode.
“How about this?” Belinda said, and squeezed him.
The lump was back in Fargo’s throat.
“Or this?” Belinda said, and gently closed her fingers on the tip.
Now it was Fargo who arched his back.
“You do like that, don’t you?”
“Shut the hell up and fuck me.” Fargo pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his. He squeezed and massaged her breasts until she panted with need. Lower down, he rubbed and stroked. Her legs parted and he inserted a finger into her sheath. For a moment she was perfectly still. He stroked and her bottom came off the bed. When he inserted a second finger, she gripped both his shoulders and dug her nails in so deep, it hurt.
“Please,” she said.
Fargo went on stroking. She shook and pulled at his hair and her eyes fluttered and she gushed a second time, more violently than the first. Afterward, she clung to him, taking deep breaths and mewing deep in her throat.
“I didn’t know it could be like this,” she whispered. “It’s heaven.”
Fargo spread her legs wider and eased onto his knees between them. He held his pole and rubbed it along her slit and her face flushed with lust.
“Yes. Do it. Put it in me.”
He didn’t need encouragement. Penetrating only an inch or so, he smiled at her and suddenly rammed in to the hilt. She voiced an inarticulate peal of pleasure and drove against him as if to batter him senseless. He plunged, pulled back, plunged again.
Under them the four-poster moved as if to an earthquake.
Fargo took his time. He let the inevitable build until there was no holding back, not for her, and certainly not for him. The room seemed to burst at the seams and she drenched him with her release. They pumped and pumped and eventually coasted to a mutual stop with her gasping and his chest pounding. Cushioned by her softness, he lay on top of her and caught his breath.
“You’re magnificent,” Belinda breathed.
“Don’t spoil it,” Fargo said.
“How does my complimenting you spoil things?”
“Just don’t.”
Fargo rolled off her and lay on his side. Sleep tugged at him and he let himself drift off. How long he was out he couldn’t say but when his eyes snapped open he was cold, his skin covered with goose bumps. He raised his head, wondering what woke him.
Belinda was sound asleep, her bare breasts rising and falling to the rhythm of her breathing. Every now and then she let out a soft snore.
Fargo lowered his cheek to the bed. He could use more sleep. But no sooner did he close his eyes than he heard a noise from the rear of the house. He raised his head again, trying to identify it. It might have been the thud of a hoof.
Recalling the dead mule out at Old Man Sawyer’s, he sat up. He tried to tell himself that the odds of the old lunatic coming to town and attacking the Ovaro were slim. But Robin Hood Timmy had shown up there and had gone after the stallion and Belinda’s horse.
Better safe than lose the best horse he’d ever known, Fargo decided. Sliding off the bed, he pulled his pants up and pulled on his boots. He left his spurs on the floor. Rather than take the time to strap on his gun belt, he snatched the Colt from its holster and hurried down. As he went past the parlor he noticed the clock on the mantle. It was almost four thirty.
Fargo moved along the hall to the kitchen. He slid the bolt and opened the door and stepped out into the chill air. He needn’t have worried. The Ovaro and the doc’s horse were over by the picket fence. Neither was asleep. Their heads were up and they were looking in his direction. He thought they were staring at him until a gun muzzle was jammed against his temple.
“One twitch,” Abner McWhertle said, “and I’ll by God blow your brains out.”
18
The night disgorged more than a dozen of them. Clyde was there, his shoulder bandaged, and other faces Fargo recognized from the farm.
Orville towered above the rest. He came up and gripped the Colt, careful not to stand in front of the muzzle. “I’ll take that.”
With Abner’s revolver to his temple, Fargo didn’t have any choice. He frowned and let go. “What the hell are you jackasses up to?”
“We’re doin’ what we told you we would do,” Abner gleefully crowed.
“You better not,” Fargo said.
“We’re scared, mister,” Clyde taunted. “We’re real scared.”
Some of the men laughed.
Orville wedged Fargo’s Colt under his belt and half turned. “All right, Mabel. You and the others can get to it.”
To Fargo’s surprise, Orville’s wife and eight other women came out of concealment. Mabel marched up to him and glared.
“You hit me, mister.”
“You deserved it, bitch.”
“Did I, now?” Mabel retorted, and kicked him in the shin.
Fargo nearly buckled. The pain shot clear through him. Gritting his teeth, he stayed on his feet.
“None of that, woman,” Orville said. “And don’t be beatin’ on her, either.”
“Her?” Fargo said.
“Who do you think?” Orville said, and opened the back door.
Mabel and the other women quietly filed in.
“Damn it, Orville,” Fargo said. “All she did was try to help you.”
“We didn’t want her help,” Orville said. “We made that plain as plain could be. She should have listened.”
“That she should have,” said a new voice, and out of the dark strolled Charles T. Dogood, his hands thrust in his pockets.
“This is your doing,” Fargo said.
Dogood smiled. “I might have persuaded them that having her around does me no favors. And I do, after all, have their best interests at heart.”
Fargo looked at Orville. “Don’t do th
is.”
“It’s already been decided.” Orville snapped his fingers and more of his clan appeared. They were carrying two rails and a bucket that reeked of sulfurous fumes.
“You son of a bitch,” Fargo said.
Orville punched him in the gut.
Fargo’s stomach exploded and he doubled over. He almost collapsed.
Abner and Clyde laughed. “Serves you right, mister,” the former said. “The airs you put on.”
Orville wrapped a huge hand around Fargo’s throat and bent so they were eye to eye. “I’d be real careful what I say from here on out if I were you. I’ve put up with a lot, mister, but it ends, here and now. We are doin’ it and that is all there is to it.” He shoved Fargo against the wall. “It will be up to you whether we do it easy or hard.”
Fargo fought the pain and said through clenched teeth, “You do this, you step over a line.”
“What line are you talkin’ about?”
“No return.”
Abner snorted. “What in hell is he talkin’ about, cousin? I don’t see no line.”
“It’s there,” Fargo said.
“He’s trying to confuse you, gentlemen,” Dogood said. “Stick to your guns.”
“Speakin’ of which,” Orville said to Clyde, and handed Fargo’s Colt over to him. “Tie him good and tight.”
Several men came forward, one with a rope.
“Like hell,” Fargo said. He unleashed an uppercut that sent the man with the rope toppling. Spinning, he drove his fist into a jaw, shifted, and clipped another McWhertle on the cheek. An opening appeared and he tried to dart through it but a foot hooked his leg and he tripped and came down on his hands and knees. Immediately, four of them were on him, seeking to pin him. He fought in a fury. He bucked. He punched. He kicked. They hit him but he didn’t care. He connected with a nose and the weight was off him. Pushing to his feet, he took a step toward the Ovaro but they were on him again, more of them, seven or eight, and he went down under their crushing numbers.
He was stripped to the waist and his arms were wrenched behind his back and his wrists were bound tight. His ankles were bound, too. A gag was forced into his mouth and he bit at the fingers. A blow to his jaw dazed him enough that they were able to shove the gag in, but he spat it back out.
They stepped back, some of them bleeding, two of them limping.
“Hellfire, he fights like a wildcat,” one said.
“I’d surely love to stomp his brains out,” said another.
Orville came over. “We’re not a bunch of red savages. We do this proper. And we do it quick and quiet so no one hears us. Remember, she has friends.”
At the word “she,” the screen door opened and out came the women. Mabel had hold of Belinda Jackson. They had tied her wrists.
“Can you believe it?” Mabel said to Orville. “She didn’t resist. Just kept askin’ us to come to our senses and see that this is wrong.”
“It is,” Belinda said quietly.
“Puny cow,” Abner mocked her.
“Please,” Belinda appealed to Orville. “They look up to you. Ultimately, this is on your shoulders. Say the word and they’ll go home and I’ll forget this ever happened.”
“Listen to her,” Clyde said, and chortled.
“We warned you,” Orville said.
“And what about Harold and Edna and Abigail? I might be able to treat them, I tell you.”
Mabel’s mouth twisted in scorn. “No need, missy. We took care of that our own selves.”
“How?”
“How do you think?” Mabel said.
Belinda stared at their faces. Her own slowly registered disbelief and then horror. “You didn’t,” she gasped.
Orville nodded. “We couldn’t have them goin’ around bitin’ folks so we put them out of their misery.”
“You killed them?”
Orville nodded again. “We were humane about it. We shot Harold in the back of the head while he was sleepin’. Edna didn’t ever come around and was hardly breathin’ so it was nothin’ to smother her with a pillow.”
“And Abigail?” Belinda said.
“I took care of her,” Mabel said. “Stuck her head in a bucket of water and drowned her like I would kittens we didn’t want.” She chuckled. “That girl sure kicked up a fuss but it was over pretty quick.”
“Oh God,” Belinda said.
“Enough of her mewin’,” Mabel said angrily. “Someone gag this bitch so we can get to it.”
“That we better,” Orville said, gazing along the backs of the houses. “There shouldn’t be anyone out and about at this hour but you never know.”
Belinda looked about her in shock. “What kind of people are you that you can do these things?”
“Don’t you lecture us,” Mabel said. “We do what we have to to protect our own. Always have. Always will.” She slapped Belinda, not once but three times.
Belinda stood there and let her. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.
“Look at her,” Abner said in disgust.
“Figures,” Clyde said. “That’s city folks for you.”
They grabbed Belinda and lowered her to the ground and held her while Mabel tied her ankles.
“Bring the rails,” Orville commanded.
Two men brought one each and laid them out next to Fargo and Belinda.
“Let me do the bitch,” Mabel said. Squatting, she slammed Belinda’s wrists against the rail and began to tie her to it.
“No need to be so rough,” Orville remarked.
“Sure there is,” Mabel said. “Her always treatin’ us like we were ignorant. Well, this will show the bitch.” She slapped Belinda across the face. “We want her to get it through her thick head that she’s not wanted here, don’t we? Nothin’ like a little hurt to convince a person.”
“I agree,” Abner said. Without warning, he stepped up to Fargo and kicked him in the ribs.
Another explosion of pain nearly blacked Fargo out. Sucking in air through his nose, he waited for the waves of agony to subside.
“Enough of that, I say,” Orville said. “Other folks hereabouts won’t raise a fuss about us runnin’ these two out. But if we hurt them, they will.”
“What do we care?” Mabel said.
“We live here. We have to get along with them best we can. No more smackin’ and kickin’.”
“Aw, hell,” Abner said. “I was just gettin’ started.”
Fargo was barely aware of being tied to the rail. He struggled to regain his senses. They cleared just as two brawny men laid hands on both ends of the rail and jerked it into the air. His body sagged, compliments of gravity, his shoulders protesting the strain.
Belinda was being similarly raised.
Clyde giggled. “They sort of remind me of hogs trussed for slaughter.”
Dogood materialized at Fargo’s shoulder. “I do so hope there won’t be any hard feelings. After all, you brought this on yourself.”
“Bring the tar,” Orville commanded.
The reeking bucket was placed on the ground under Fargo.
Orville was handed a ladle used for stew and the like. He dipped it and stirred. “We heated it good and proper before we came but it’s cooled some.”
“Should we heat it again?” Abner asked. “The hotter it is, the more misery they’ll be in.”
“No time,” Orville said. “It will be light in an hour or so. We’ll do it as is.”
“You are no fun sometimes, cousin,” Abner said.
Orville raised the ladle and tilted it and black sludge dripped over the rim.
All Fargo could do was glare. A warm sensation spread across his chest and over his stomach as the gooey tar slowly spread. The stink made him crinkle his nose.
Mabel was doing the same to Belinda, and commented, “I still say we should have stripped her.”
“It wouldn’t be decent,” Orville said.
“But it’s not the same, tarrin’ and featherin�
� her nightdress.”
“She won’t ever get the tar out,” Orville said. “She’ll never be able to wear it again.”
“That’s no kind of punishment. She deserves worse.”
“While I tend to agree,” Charlie Dogood interjected, “I suppose your husband has a point, my dear. We should be civil about this.”
The tar covered Fargo’s shoulders. There was some on his hips and legs.
“This is fun,” Mabel said, upending her ladle over Belinda’s head.
Orville bent and dipped the ladle in the bucket and held it over Fargo’s. “I hear tell you’ll have to cut your hair plumb off.”
Clyde did more giggling.
“You’re right, Mabel,” Orville said. “This is kind of fun.” And he started to turn the ladle.
19
The slam of a back door down the street caused the McWhertles to glance up.
“What the dickens is goin’ on over there?” a man shouted. “Folks are tryin’ to sleep and all we hear is your jabber.”
“Mind your own business,” Abner hollered.
The man wasn’t intimidated. “How about I fetch my shotgun and come mind yours?”
“I’d like to see you try,” Abner said.
“Hush up,” Orville told him, “or you’ll wake half the town.”
As if to prove him right, a window on a house across the way slid open and a woman’s head poked out. “What in tarnation is all the ruckus about over there? Who are you people and what are you doin’ at Doc Jackson’s?”
Abner went to yell but Orville wagged the ladle at him and said, “When I tell you to hush, you damn well better hush.”
To the woman he replied, “One of our kin is sick, ma’am. The doc is tendin’ to him.”
The man down the street yelled, “Well keep it down, damn you. People are tryin’ to sleep.”
The back door slammed and the window across the way slid down and the night was quiet again.
“Let’s finish with the tar and tote them off like we were fixin’ to do,” Clyde said.
“No,” Orville said. He put the ladle in the bucket and handed the bucket to another McWhertle. “We’re leavin’ this minute. Get the horses.”
