by Abbie Adams
"Uh, Diamond, I think what Gabe means—" Whatever Jewel was trying to say was lost when Gabe interrupted.
"Jewel, I don't need you to speak for me. I will not be swayed." He rapped his knuckles on the table to drive his point home.
Delaney didn't know what to say. She watched as Jewel stopped mid-sentence and then opened and closed her mouth again, with no words escaping. But Delaney was her father's daughter, hot-headed and determined, and as he'd been known to tell her: she didn't have a lot of common sense. She'd come here to find her sister and she wouldn't stop until she did. She cast her chair aside the same way that Gabe had and stood up as tall as she could. That was what you were supposed to do if you came across a bear, so she'd been told. She hoped it applied to large, grouchy men too.
"I'm going to the sheriff. He won't let you keep me here against my will!"
"Oh, do you think so? I'll go get him for you." Gabe spun around and headed for the door.
"Diamond, Gabe, please..." Jewel wrung her hands.
"What is all this ruckus?" Nettie come into the dining room, hips swaying, swinging her big wooden spoon.
Delaney stomped away, ignoring Nettie and Jewel who both now followed her to her room. She'd never been so furious in all of her life, not even with that old biddy, Aunt Margarethe. They couldn't keep her here. She had no contract so she could leave whenever she wanted to.
"Honey, Gabe is just looking out for you. He cares very much about your safety. If your sister is out there, you will find her but not right now. You don't know the things that evil gang has done. It's just not safe." Jewel followed her right into her room.
She didn't care what excuses they gave her. As much as she was dead set on finding her sister, she was as much set on leaving—just to prove she could. She didn't say anything as she pulled the only dress other than the one she was wearing that was hers alone and shoved it into a satchel.
"Child, calm yourself." Nettie laid her spoon aside and came to rest her hand on Delaney's arm. "Let's get you some tea, and we'll just talk this out. I'm sure with Gabe and the sheriff, we'll be able to come to an agreement."
"What in the hell is all this noise? The birds aren't even awake yet!" Opal joined the party now crowding Delaney's room. Right behind her came a yawning Amy with Dottie on her heels.
"Diamond wants to go out looking for her sister. Gabe doesn't want her to leave just now with all the danger and that family being murdered by the Shotgun Slick Gang," Jewel explained softly in her most agreeable tone.
Delaney swiped at the tears that had tumbled free. She realized just as surely as she was alive and breathing that she had to get out of there before Gabe and the sheriff came back or she wouldn't get to go anywhere.
"I'm… I'm… not feeling well." She sat down on the bed abruptly and tossed a hand over her eyes and dropped her bag. She'd have to leave it behind.
"Lie down, child. I'm going to get a pot of tea." Nettie pointed to the water pitcher on her way to the door. "Opal, get this girl a cool cloth."
"No, I just need to go to the privy. Please let me through." Delaney held her tummy and rushed by them and all the way out the back door.
It was surprising how easy it had been to sneak out. She had been able to slip right out of the outhouse unnoticed. Well, now she didn't have her bag with her, but she was coming back. And though she'd originally planned to take the stage coach to Dry Creek, there hadn't been time for that either.
Delaney couldn't believe her luck when there was a horse saddled and tied to the rail at the livery. She didn't have time to get permission to borrow the thing but it was clearly meant to be or else God wouldn't have made it available to her… right?
It had been a chore to get onto the horse with her skirts tangling her up, but thankfully she knew how to ride astride, something many women didn't know how to do. Most women only knew how to use those silly side-saddles. One more thing she could thank her father for. The other things were her impulsiveness and quick temper. Although, those may not be such welcome traits.
Now that she was on the trail, hopefully the right trail, she had some time to think. Maybe she had rushed things. She didn't know how to get to Dry Creek for one thing. She knew the stage coach went this direction when they left Culpepper Cove, but she didn't know how long it should take. Somewhere in her head she had this niggling idea that she'd heard it took two days to get to any town, but she hoped it was just two days to get to San Francisco. Dry Creek had to be closer than that.
She didn't have anything with her. Nothing. No way to drink, to eat, or to sleep. She would just have to keep moving. She could last a day without food or sleep. She'd ride through the night, and get to Dry Creek faster. There was no way she'd turn back now.
Six hours later, or at least she guessed it was six hours—she'd been riding all day it seemed—she wasn't so sure she could go without food. And she was dying of thirst. She'd expected to see water… after all, Culpepper Creek ran just outside of town and the river ran throughout the mountains but she'd seen absolutely no sign of either for the past several hours.
What was she doing? Her original plan was nothing like this. She'd been awake most of the night with Tripp. Now she understood why the other gems liked to sleep in. It wasn't just that they stayed up so late, just like she, they had to be exhausted by the long and arduous loving. She'd never known how many ways they could make love. She was so tender but in a delicious way she hardly understood. When morning had come, she'd lain in Tripp's arms with the sun coming through the curtains and she'd never experienced such complete satisfaction. When he sat against the headboard, stroking his cock into its full glory, she learned that a woman could pleasure a man with her mouth the same as he'd pleasured her the night before. It had been a combination of embarrassment and excitement as she took him between her lips, her sense of awe growing as she licked his shaft, feeling the veins standing out against his skin, the velvet contrasting with the rod of steel. He'd guided her gently and when she'd accepted his essence, swallowing his salty seed, he'd praised her and then returned the bliss until they were once again awakening in each other's arms.
She'd naively thought that maybe he would be pleased as well and would feel charitable about taking her to search for her sister, even though she'd lost the bet. But when she'd asked, he had put her off. Oh, he'd spun it as if he just couldn't. Delaney needed to let the lawman do their job in finding the gang, and if her sister was with them, they'd find her. But, Delaney couldn't wait for them to round up the men and map out a battle plan. To hell with them.
She'd been excited with a clue to help her find her sister after so long. When Delaney had gotten the last letter from Damaris telling her she'd landed a great job in a fancy hotel, she'd come west as fast as she could. Prior to that she hadn't known where to find her sister. Her father had died months before, but she'd had no way to send word to her sister. When she'd finally arrived in San Francisco weeks later, her sister was already gone and she had no way of knowing if she'd received Delaney's letter or not.
She'd found the fancy hotel her sister had spoken of, The Broken Mast, to be nothing more than a whore house and not a nice one at all, although, until she'd come to The Red Petticoat Saloon, she had no idea how nice a whore house could be. The owner of The Broken Mast had given her no information at all and then propositioned her to stay on. She'd been horrified at the suggestion and when unable to hide her disgust, she'd watched the handsome man go from smooth talking to threatening. She'd fled San Francisco as quickly as she could.
It was a stroke of luck she'd landed at the Emory Inn. The kind matron of the place had given her the information the owner of The Broken Mast had not, or so she'd believed at the time.
Mrs. Emory had told her of a group of people who had stayed with them on their way to Culpepper Cove to open a saloon. She'd told Delaney about them rescuing an ill young lady from the clutches of Cedric Tompkins, the owner of The Broken Mast.
It wasn't until weeks after she'd
been in Culpepper Cove that she learned that woman was Della and not Damaris. She'd gotten another tip from a miner who believed Damaris to have worked at The Main Mast in Lower Mesa, another saloon Cedric owned that wasn't even as nice as The Broken Mast which wasn't nice to begin with.
Delaney finally learned from him that the gal he was thinking of had left with a man who purchased her contract from Cedric. Until she'd heard the news about Damaris being with the Shotgun Slick Gang, she'd hoped her sister had found her happily ever after and that when she found Damaris, she would be happily married to a kindhearted and charitable man.
But now with all the time that had passed, she wondered if she'd ever see her sister again. She prayed it was just a coincidence that she appeared in town at the same time as the gang and not that Damaris had taken part in any of their illegal and evil actions. She prayed she'd find her alive and well.
***
Tripp spent the better half of the first hour he rode out after her imagining every position and implement with which to spank Delaney. He was for this reason alone, thankful the riders had split up so that he didn't have anyone riding with him. When he found her, he was going to blister her ass. He didn't care who she was. In fact, he was pretty sure as marshal, it was somewhere in his responsibilities to take care of wayward women—if not, it should be.
He spent the better half of the second hour trying to figure out who she was and if the plea for her sister was real. He wondered if even now she was riding off to find Slick and warn him of the marshal's arrival or that people were now linking the card dealer and the gang. Perhaps she was planning to go into hiding now as well?
He spent the better half of the third hour trying to remember what Gabe and Jewel had said she'd been so adamant about. Something about finding her sister? He'd been so blind with need for her, that he'd not given it a lot of thought. They had talked about it in bed before he'd left for the sheriff's and he had mistakenly believed he'd convinced her of the dangers involved. He'd explained that he and the men were already looking for the gang. That was what she'd been seeking last night when she'd asked him to escort her.
He spent the other part of all three hours praying he'd find her safely. He imagined the wife of the murdered family and the days she'd spent captive of the vile gang. He prayed the poor woman had died before they could abuse her. And then he'd prayed harder that he'd find Diamond safely.
He was somewhat relieved that Jebidiah had heard word of suspicious tracks in the opposite direction. That was the reason Ralph had his horse ready at the livery. He was going to ride with the sheriff's posse to try to find the outlaws, but that had changed when Gabe had come for the sheriff and then Charlie soon after saying Diamond was missing. They'd decided it best to split up. The posse continued in the direction they believed the gang to be. Gabe and Charlie had gone toward his mine. Ben and Crawford had gone toward Goldfinger Gulch and Tripp had come south toward Dry Creek. Tripp and Ben were pretty sure she was headed this way. It was probably why Gabe let him come alone. Tripp had told the man that he was going to whip her when he found her. Gabe's nod gave his permission; Tripp didn't need it. He was just being courteous in informing him of his plan. He was going to find her and when he did, he was going to tan her hide six ways till Sunday.
If he was right, and he was seldom wrong when it came to tracking people, then the hoof prints of a single horse (his own horse) headed right down the road from the livery, a block from the saloon, had to be Diamond. He was pretty certain it was his own horse, Sampson, because of the size of the hoof prints. Not many horses had such large hooves. Well, that and the stable hand had recognized her dark curly hair.
He still couldn't believe that she'd stolen his own horse and ridden out of town the way she had or that she was silly enough to ride right down the middle of this road all day leaving tracks that would lead right to her. She obviously wasn't hiding.
As he rode, he thought about her mouth on his cock. There was nothing in the world quite like that innocent look in her eyes as she'd licked him tenderly, so tenderly like she was afraid to hurt him. He restrained himself from grabbing her head and fucking her mouth the way he desired. He was so hungry for her, it had taken everything in him to hold back, reminding himself that she couldn't be torturously teasing him as it had been obvious from the first moment he'd instructed her to open her mouth that she'd never imagined hearing those words. But, after assuring her that it would give him much pleasure… and seeing her face flush as if remembering the pleasure she'd taken from his mouth on her pussy, she'd obeyed. From that first tentative lick of her tongue, he'd been lost.
He finally saw her in the distance, plodding along at a rather sedentary pace. If he had to guess, his head-strong horse wanted to go back to the livery, where the sweet hay and oats Ben provided were plentiful, and, therefore, Sampson wouldn't go faster if she wanted him to. It proved her skill as a horsewoman that he'd not been able to do just as he wanted. No, the horse was tired, he could tell. They hadn't been traveling but a little over three hours, but with the heat and the way she'd run him so long…
Sampson noticed Tripp following behind her long before Diamond had. His horse whinnied and tossed his head back, trying to turn and would have had she not been as keen a rider as she seemed to be.
When he was nearly thirty feet behind her, Tripp finally called out to her. "He's a lot more observant than you are apparently. The whole Shotgun Slick Gang could be holding onto the horse's tail and you wouldn't even notice."
She gave the horse his head to spin around then, clearly surprised to see him if her wide-eyed expression was any indication. "What are you doing out here, Marshal, uhm, Tripp?"
"I'm taking my horse back, then I'm going to blister your ass and take you back as well." The words came with no thought or idea he'd be saying them.
"This is your horse?" If possible her eyes widened even more. "I'm sorry. I just needed to borrow him and didn't have time to ask."
"When you take something without asking, we generally call that stealing. And if horse thieves aren't hung outright, they are usually arrested for it. Get down, little girl." When she didn't move to obey he rode closer and held out his hand. "The reins please."
"You can't just take the horse now. I can't walk from here." She pulled the horse in the opposite direction.
"Have you watered him at all in the time you've been riding him hard out here in the hot sun? And don't lie to me. You haven't left this road the whole time. Look at him. You can't sit a horse that well and not know when the horse is overheated and needs water." The longer he looked at her, the harder it was for him not to ride over and pull her from the saddle and straight over his lap.
"There is no water out here. You obviously know that. I was hoping there would be soon." She shook her head as if exasperated with him. As if she had the right.
He needed to cool down before he looked at the woman again. Tripp turned the mare he was on and headed into the woods.
"Where are you going?" she asked and when he ignored her again, followed behind him. "Oh, aren't you a gentleman. Your mama must be so proud of you and your treatment of the ladies. Where are the gentlemen these days?" Her chatter went on and on.
When he finally cleared the last slow rise and descended toward the flooded wash, he did more than simply look for a spot to rest, he was looking for a stump, fallen tree or rock. He needed someplace to sit. Not for his comfort, but for the spanking he was about to deliver, but not just any place would do. Tripp wanted her completely over his knees and under his control. Thankfully, he spotted a small boulder right near the water.
"Oh, thank heavens, there is a river," Diamond announced, and nudged Sampson on, somehow oblivious to the trouble she was in. At the edge she kicked her leg around the horse's rump and slid off Sampson with a good level of experience, but her skirt caught on the saddle so that it was almost over her head when she was standing flat on the ground. "Eeeek! Help!" she cried out.
He started to laugh a
s he slid from his mount but quickly grew concerned when Sampson continued on toward the water pulling her along roughly.
"Sampson, halt!"
Thankfully, with the horse's obedience, Tripp was able to get to her side and grasp the horse's reins. He tied his mare's reins to her saddle horn and let her go to the water, but before he turned back to the cute little brat's dilemma, she started complaining again.
"Marshal, can you help me here? I can't stand like this all day!" All he could see of her upper half was the mop of black curly hair, hanging mostly loose from its coil. His view below that was much nicer, including pretty white ruffled drawers. He was tempted to untie the laces and drop her drawers right there. He'd have perfect access as it was, but he wouldn't take a chance of the horse startling, no matter how well-behaved he knew the animal to be.
"Ahh, now what would you do if you were out here by yourself? You'd sure be stuck there quite a while now, wouldn't you?" He had to walk around the back of the horse to get to the buckle where the fabric was caught. "Don't you proper ladies have special saddles and riding outfits for this reason?"
"Yes, smart-ass we do. Unfortunately, I had neither at my disposal so if you are done enjoying your view, and would kindly help me… instead of leering at my unmentionables…"
"Oh, sweet ladybug—" He had her skirt free, and tied the reins to the saddle horn the same way he had the mare and let Sampson go, but held her skirt in the air for a moment or more, wondering if she'd notice. "—I'm going to get a much nicer view here in a minute when I spank your pretty little bottom until you are a writhing, sobbing mess."
She clearly knew the horse was free and started to struggle with pulling her skirt down. When he finally let go, they were chest to chest, or as close to that as their height difference allowed, he had a great view of her creamy breasts, which he refrained from brushing his lips across even though he was sorely tempted. Her face was flushed bright red, her yellow-green eyes sparkling with anger.
