Cowboy Caveat
Page 8
Ed was straining against his trousers uncomfortably. He continued to frig his wife slowly, watching her as she writhed across his lap, moaning and pushing back against his fingers wantonly.
“Onto the bed, Lucy darlin’, bottom up in the air,” Ed commanded her. He turned and stripped off his clothes as quickly as he could. It was a relief to free his turgid erection from his constricting trousers.
Lucy panted with desire as she crawled up onto all fours, her nightdress screwed up around her hips and her punished bottom pushed up into the air on full display. Ed turned his hot gaze on the delectable tableaux; he gave an appreciative growl of lust from the back of his throat.
She was the most arousing sight Ed had ever seen; he could see that her desire was clearly apparent below the glowing rouge of her spanked derriere. Ed grasped his aching member and gently palmed it as he soaked in the sight of his compliant wife awaiting his pleasure. His throbbing manhood pulsed with the need for release and Ed had no intention of denying his rampant staff any longer.
Ed padded to the bed and, grasping Lucy’s hips, he rocked her back and sunk himself deep inside her. He shuddered with pleasure and Lucy uttered a small guttural, sexy cry. Ed pulled her scalding bottom back toward his pelvis as he plunged into her, rapidly stoking them both to climax.
Lucy came first, gasping her pleasure, followed by Ed who found the force of his ejaculation almost painful in its release. Ed slumped sideways, pulling Lucy with him, so that her back was curled into his chest. He nestled inside her body, his penis still shuddering with the force of his orgasm.
Ed wrapped his arms tightly around Lucy, kissed the back of her neck and whispered, “I love you, little darlin’, an’ I liked what just happened here...I think I’ve missed a trick or two not spanking you more often!”
Lucy squealed her embarrassment into her pillow but she didn’t say a word. Lucy was exhausted and extremely confused by her body’s reaction to her spanking. She closed her eyes and allowed the oblivion of sleep to escape from the questions that were whirling in her head. Ed, on the other hand, thought about his wife’s reaction to her spanking punishment and decided that he needed to go and have a private talk with a friend of his who might be able to shed some light on a few confusing questions he had.
CHAPTER 8
The stage had been travelling for quite some time now, and Amy hoped they would arrive at the stage outpost soon, because her bladder was bursting and Millie had confided her own concerns for a nature stop, whispering her need from behind her small hand.
The stage lurched suddenly and began to move faster and faster, swinging violently from side to side. Amy caught hold of Ethan to keep her seat and put her other arm out to grab Luca as he was flung forward.
Ethan twisted around and looked out of the window. Pulling back inside, he turned to Amy, his voice lowered. “Have you still got your Derringer in your reticule?” he asked.
“Yup, is there trouble......is it the Sheriff?” she whispered back.
“No, I think it’s bandits chasing the stage.”
Before Amy could respond, the Reverend woke up and peered out of the window. He pulled back his jacket and yanked a Colt out from a holster on his back waistband. Scooting along the seat and pressing himself into the corner, the Reverend cocked his gun and pulled down the window, aiming at their pursuers. Ethan shouted, “GET DOWN!” He grabbed Amy and flung himself over her while stretching out an arm, barely covering the two terrified children, his palm placed protectively on top of Luca’s head.
The stage suddenly lurched and leapt into the air. It seemed to hold its position before crashing down and pitching sideways amid the terrified screams of the horses and all within the body of the coach. Ethan, Amy, Millie and Luca ended up squashed on top of one another, a tangle of arms and legs. Poor Millie was at the bottom of the heap. Her shoulder and arm were twisted back and she moaned and cried out in pain as Ethan pulled the others off of her.
The door above them opened and an arm holding a gun pointed down at Ethan’s head. Before he could react to this, a loud retort deafened everyone and the gunman fell away from the coach.
Smoke filled the carriage and more confusion rained down as the Reverend, holding his Colt 45, jumped over the backs of Amy and the others and sprung out of the coach. Ethan followed him, firing as he went, and after a few more gunshots, the world outside fell eerily quiet.
Amy was the first to risk sticking her head out, through the door of the coach that was stranded on its side, to see what was going on. Immediately she shrieked as a face shape loomed close to her own. Her instant reaction was to smack the face hard.
“Ow! Hell darlin’, what’d you do that for!” Ethan hollered, rubbing his sore face vigorously.
“Ethan! I’m so sorry...I...I thought it was the gun man. Are you okay, Eth?”
“I guess I’ll live! How about you? Millie and Luca, are they alright?”
“Millie has hurt her shoulder but otherwise we’re fine. Who were those men and what’s going on?”
Ethan heaved Amy out of the coach. He then did the same with the youngsters, being careful of Millie’s shoulder. They all stood in a huddle around Ethan and watched as the Reverend walked to the body of the stage driver. He looked up and shook his head at Ethan before moving on between the bodies of two men who had pursued them. He turned them over, patted their pockets, presumably for clues as to their identification. He seemed to find what he wanted on the second man, pulling out a piece of paper unfolding it and reading it before tucking it away in his own back pocket. He stood up and walked over to where they waited for him.
“Sorry ‘bout that, folks, goes with the territory. I been tailing those two for some weeks now and they obviously decided to bushwhack me on the trail. Hope you folks are alright, no one hurt?” And then, just on cue, Millie fainted dead away.
Amy dropped to Millie’s side and lifted her head onto her lap. Ethan pulled off his neck cloth and poured water from his canteen onto it, wiping the child’s face with the cool water. Millie groaned and her soft brown eyes fluttered open. “My shoulder hurts real bad,” she whimpered.
“Here, let me take a look,” the Reverend said, dropping to one knee and taking Millie’s arm gently between his hands.
“Dislocated I’m afraid,” he told Ethan. “I can fix it if’n you want. It’s happened to me and a few others I’ve travelled with before.”
“Will it hurt her much?” Amy asked before Ethan could speak.
“Some…not too much. Best done straight away, though, before there’s any swelling...it’s real difficult to get back in place once that happens.”
Amy nodded. “Do it,” she told him.
Millie groaned and sat up. The Reverend looked at Ethan and gestured to him to come and hold Millie. “Just keep the girl still and hold on tight.”
Millie looked alarmed, but before she could open her mouth, the Reverend had pulled her arm out straight, and with his other hand pressed to her shoulder, he gave a small twist and a push. There was a click, a pop, and a sharp screech from Millie, and her shoulder was back in place.
Ethan stared at the Reverend as he patted Millie’s head, then stuck his face into the holy man’s, asking, “Just who the hell are you? ‘Cause you sure as hell ain’t no reverend, mister!”
“You got me there, son! I’m a Texas Ranger and I been on the trail of those two dead men over there some eighteen months now. They robbed a train a while back and killed two men who tried to stop ‘em. They been playing cat an’ mouse with me for the last few weeks and killed the Ranger I was working with not three days ago. I decided to change identity and make for Dallas to talk tactics with a friend of mine who lives there. Jim has an uncanny knack of understanding the criminal mind. I owe you a debt sir, you saved my life with your covering shot back there. I thank you, Mr....”
“Ethan, the name is Ethan Walker, I’m travelling with my wife Amelia over to Dallas to visit with my wife’s grandmother, along with the family h
ere. This here’s Luca and the walking wounded lass is Millie.” Ethan half stood and held out his hand to the Ranger, who reached across to take it in a firm grip.
“I’m obliged to you, Mr. Walker. The name’s Rick, Rick Cook,” the Ranger said.
Ethan thought quickly -- this man was a Ranger so he’d be obligated to take Amy in if he knew about her shooting Henderson. If he felt he owed Ethan a favor he just might help them, but could they trust him? He decided to keep silent for now and concentrate on getting Amy and the children to safety for the night. “Actually sir, I’m obliged to you for helping Millie here. I wouldn’t have had any idea how to put her shoulder right.” Ethan waved at Millie, who was sobbing into Amy’s shoulder.
“You are most welcome, Mr. Walker. Now if we are to get to shelter tonight, we had all best start walking. I don’t think the staging post is too much farther on from here. I reckon it’s just away over that rise, a mile at best, d’you think that your youngsters can make it that far?”
“’Course they can and so can I!” retorted Amy, while helping Millie up and giving her a quick hug before releasing her and turning to the men.
“Okay then, gather up what you need and can carry. We’ll store the rest inside the coach and collect it another day.”
* * * * *
Tyler was lying on his tummy hidden in the long grass, watching with amazement as the wild white stallion mounted a mare. The horse was standing up on his hind legs, his forelegs were placed along the mare’s back, and he was nipping at her neck. Tyler crouched downwind, only a few feet away, trembling with excitement. He had been trailing the stallion for a few days now on and off, and this was the first time he had caught up as close as this to the wild herd. He wanted to capture this stallion so much for the white breeding stock that Amy had collected. He was such a magnificent beast! Tyler knew that Ed would take him seriously -- Amy, too -- if he could pull this off.
Tyler shifted in the grass, his gaze drawn to a slow movement of the tall brush to his left. Oh, no....snake! Tyler quickly assessed his options -- the stallion and his herd were in front of him and the snake to his left, a small coppice to his right. Could he make it before the stallion ran him down? Hell, he had no choice, the snake was nearly on him and he had no gun. Tyler jumped up and sprinted to the coppice, throwing himself into the overgrown thicket. Sharp saplings switched his face and arms as he tumbled through the undergrowth, and then he was sliding down toward what appeared to be a big black hole.
Tyler scrabbled with his heels to try to stop himself sliding any farther into the foul-smelling sticky, black goo, but it was a difficult task because the stuff was so slippery. He twisted onto his stomach and put his arms straight over his head, clawing at the dry grass. His first clutch wasn’t enough to pull himself clear, and so he rested for a moment before stretching out as far as he could, this time grabbing firm handfuls of the tough prairie grass and pulling. Inch by slow inch, he managed to claw his way out of the black glue. Finally he rolled clear, away from the danger.
Tyler lay on his back panting for a few moments until his breathing slowed to a normal pace. Then he stood and looked down at his black and stinking clothes. He pulled up handfuls of grass and wiped himself down, but it was slow work and the stuff just seemed to stick to everything like molasses. Tyler grimaced when he realised his only option was to go back home in the state he was in. He dreaded explaining to Ed how he came to be in such a mess when he was supposed to be in school.
As it was, Tyler need not have worried about Ed’s reaction because when Tyler approached the ranch house, Ed met him crossing from the house to the barn, and he gasped at the state of his youngest sibling. “Sonofabitch! Tyler, what in tarnation have you been rolling in there, boy?”
Tyler hung his head and spat out a great glob of spittle and black goo. “I don’ rightly know, but it stinks and it won’t come off n’ me!” he bleated.
Ed ran his finger down the side of Tyler’s arm and sniffed the sticky smear. “Holy cow!” he exclaimed, recognizing the stuff straight away as crude oil. “Let’s get you over to the cook house and wash this off with lye soap. So where did you roll in this, huh?” Ed put out a hand to ruffle his brother’s hair and then thought better of it after seeing the black matted mop.
Tyler glanced up with his light brown eyes, so uncannily like his sister Amy’s. “I was following a stallion and the wind shifted. He scented me and I had a snake real close so I broke cover and ran into a thicket, which was kinda dipped, and I rolled into a black smelly hole of the stuff pooled at the bottom.”
“Where ’bouts, kid? Not on Henderson’s land, is it?” Ed asked, looking at Tyler sharply.
“No siree, on our land -- on the homestead at the edge of Henderson’s but still on Pa’s land!”
Ed nodded thoughtfully. When they arrived at the pump, Ed grabbed a bar of lye soap from Cookie’s stock and set about scrubbing his small brother. After Tyler was reasonably cleaned up, Ed left him to finish off and went in search of the ranch foreman Max.
* * * * *
Lucy had dinner waiting on the table, and her sons as well as Tyler were all washed up and waiting to eat. Tyler had said nothing at all about his adventures to his sister-in-law. She was just beginning to get cross with Ed for keeping them waiting when the screen door banged and in he walked.
“Honey...boys!” he called in greeting and sat down at the table. Ed waited until after the meal was over and the boys had all scattered before he spoke to Lucy.
“Honey, I need you to pack the boys off to your Aunt Peggy’s for a few days. We’re off to Dallas to visit Grandma.”
Lucy frowned and asked, “Can’t I stay here with the boys?”
“I suppose...but I really want you with me, Lucy. There’s bad things happening around here, and I may need you to look after Amy and Millie if things get worse. Our boys are best off here safe with Peggy. They love her, and she’ll make sure they’re jus’ fine.”
“What about Tyler, Ed?” she asked
“He can stay at Peggy’s, too, keep the boys amused.”
Lucy wasn’t too happy about going to Ed’s grandmother’s in Dallas, but arguing with her new spanking husband meant that Lucy was becoming more careful about choosing her battles. “Alright,” she sighed, “I’ll go pack their things right now. So when are we leaving for Dallas?”
“Eight o’clock in the morning. We’ll drop the boys off on our way into town.”
CHAPTER 9
Finally, Rick Cook led the unhappy little band into the wooden building of the single-story staging post. It wasn’t up to much, but it was shelter and the couple that ran it seemed friendly enough -- Mr. Elmer Carter and his Mexican wife, Carmella. Carmella had Amy sit the children down at a dusty wooden table with plates of hot chili beans placed in front of them almost as soon as they walked through the door.
Rick nodded to Ethan and Elmer to follow him outside and the men walked the horses into the barn before divesting them of their gruesome burdens. Elmer gasped and jumped back as the second body dropped to the floor and landed on its back. Rick caught the man’s arm in a vice-like grip. “You know him?”
Elmer stared mesmerized at the dead man as he said, “Sure do, he’s my brother-in-law, Carmella’s brother.” He looked at Rick, shaking his greasy head, and added, “A mean sonofabitch that one, been plaguing us for years now, terrified the life out of Carmella, the evil bastard!” He hawked and spat on the dead man’s face.
Now that Ethan looked closely, he could see that the dead bandit was a Mexican. “What was his name?” He nodded toward the body.
“Pedro Gonzales, but he was known as ‘Tex-Mex.’ He was a nasty piece of work. What’d he do this time?”
Rick answered, “Robbed trains, murdered folk and attacked the stage today. I’m a Ranger by the way an’ there’s a bounty on this man’s head. Did he visit here much?”
“He had a locked room here. He used to come an’ go as he pleased, took money from us an’ never pa
id us back. Sold his own kid once his wife had died.” Elmer shook his head.
“I want to see his room right now,” Rick told him.
“Can’t get in, mister, he had the only key.”
“Search him then – he must have the key on him.”
Elmer spat again, to the side this time and said, “You shot him, you search him!”
“I’ll do it,” Ethan said. He bent down and emptied out the man’s pockets, and when he stood back up, he held a large metal key.
“Right then, I’ll go tell my wife that her brother is dead – not that she should shed a tear for that evil bastard.” Elmer hitched up his threadbare trousers and strolled away.
After their meal, Carmella showed Amy where they could all sleep in the one large room, which contained a double bed and a set of what looked like jail-made bunk beds covered with colorful but grubby Mexican blankets. There was a rickety table with an oil lamp standing on top and that was it. Amy thanked her and settled Millie and Luca into the bunks for the night, before softly closing the door and going off to find Ethan.
She found all the men and a wailing Carmella inside a small room on the other side of the large central room where they had just eaten. The men were systematically tearing the room apart, obviously looking for something. Rick pulled a valise out from under the bed and swung the heavy bag up onto the mattress. When he opened it, they all gasped, because it was full of pocket watches and jewelry of all descriptions. Ethan let out a low whistle as the Ranger tipped the whole glittering hoard out onto the bed.
Amy drew closer and watched as Elmer moved the baubles around in awe. Her gaze was drawn to a small golden locket and the breath left her chest as she recognised it as her mother’s. She stretched out her hand as if to touch it, then thought better of it and pulled it back.