The Gunsmith 420

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The Gunsmith 420 Page 4

by JR Roberts

“You don’t know,” she said, sipping the water. “You have no idea what we di—what we went through.”

  He took the glass from her, set it aside, then got her to slide back down onto the mattress with him, and lie in his arms.

  Twelve

  They woke the next morning, still intertwined.

  “Oh God!” she said.

  “What?”

  “We slept all night.”

  “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in bed at night?” he asked.

  “Yes, but ...” She sat up and looked down at him. “We were supposed to do ... other things.”

  “You needed the sleep.”

  “What about what you needed?” she asked.

  He laughed. “Believe me, I needed the sleep, too.”

  “But what you did for me ... I didn’t do anythin’ for you.”

  “I enjoyed myself,” Clint said. “And what I need now is breakfast.”

  “Breakfast!” she said. She leaped to her feet, her peach tits barely bouncing. “I’ll go downstairs and start breakfast.” She pulled her nightgown on quickly. “I’ll have to go get dressed. My sisters are probably already down there.”

  She crawled across the mattress, kissed him, and said, “Come down in a little while,” then ran out.

  ~*~

  Clint was exhausted.

  The Perkins sisters had worn him out. They’d fed him well and would, he suspected, continue to do so while he stayed there, but would they expect to be serviced every day? All three of them? And what man would complain about such a situation? After all, food and sex were on any man’s list of things he wanted most in life.

  And he did want to help them. He could see repairs that needed to be made around the place, and he was in no hurry to get anywhere. At the very least he could fix that damned squeaky wheel on the buckboard.

  He stood up and was surprised that he felt pretty good. The fact that he and Belinda had fallen asleep together had worked in his favor. He was actually feeling pretty well rested.

  And suddenly, he could smell bacon.

  He washed up, got dressed, strapped on his gun and walked downstairs.

  Another day or two probably wouldn’t hurt.

  ~*~

  When he got down to the dining room the table was already set for breakfast.

  Teresa came out of the kitchen at that moment with a pot of coffee.

  “Just in time,” she said. “Have a seat. I’ll pour you a cup.”

  “Thanks.”

  From the smell of the coffee, it was stronger than it had been the night before. When she poured he saw how black it was, and knew this was true.

  “Is that the way you like it?” she asked.

  He sipped it and said, “Perfect.”

  She smiled, happy that he was pleased, and pout the pot down.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  She returned to the kitchen, and when she reappeared, Belinda was with her. They were both carrying plates of food. When they set them down he saw the eggs, bacon and potatoes.

  “Help yourself,” Belinda told him. “I’ll get the hot rolls.”

  “I’ll wait for you ladies,” he said.

  “See?” Belinda said to Teresa. “A gentleman.”

  Teresa sat at the far end of the table, as she had the night before. Belinda went into the kitchen, then came out with Loretta, who was drying her hands on her apron.

  “Good-mornin’,” she said.

  “’mornin’,” Clint said.

  She sat at the head of the table while Belinda put the basket of hot rolls down on the table, next to the butter. She then sat on the bench right across from Clint.

  “Okay,” Belinda said, “you can eat now, Mr. Gentleman.”

  They passed plates around the table and filled their own, then started to eat. He looked around at the three of them. Loretta was careful not to look at him, Teresa glanced at him occasionally. Only Belinda stared at him with a big smile on her face.

  “What’s going on today?” he asked.

  “I have to tend to my garden,” Loretta said.

  “I have to look after the livestock,” Belinda said.

  “What’ve you got?”

  “Oh, some cows, pigs, chickens—we breed ’em, sometimes we eat ’em. Except the chickens. We need them for the eggs.”

  “And you?” he asked Teresa.

  “I’m gonna do some repairs around the place,” she said.

  “Are you the one who does all the repairs?” he asked.

  She laughed. “I try.”

  “Well,” he said, “right after breakfast I’ll help you. Why don’t we start with that squeaky wheel?”

  “Suits me!” Teresa said.

  “Fine with me, too,” Loretta said. “Things might get done quicker that way.”

  Teresa stuck her tongue out at her sister, and smiled at Clint.

  Thirteen

  After breakfast Clint and Teresa went out to the barn to look at the buckboard wheel.

  Far enough away not to be seen, but close enough to see, two men watched them as they walked from the house to the barn and disappeared inside. One of them was using field glasses.

  “Who’s the man?” Ken Murdock asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sam Fenner said. “I can’t tell.”

  “Can’t you see his face?”

  “From here?” Fenner asked.

  “Well,” Murdock said, “you got the glasses.”

  Murdock lowered the field glasses and looked at his partner.

  “They’re still too far away for me to make out his face,” he explained.

  “Well,” Fenner said, “can you see if there are any more men?”

  “No,” Murdock said, “and I mean, no, there ain’t no more men.”

  “We should just ride down there and take care of him, then,” Fenner suggested.

  “Those ain’t our orders.” Murdock put the glasses back to his face.

  “Why do we always gotta obey orders?” Fenner complained. “It ain’t like we’re in the army, or somethin’.”

  “Because,” Murdock said, “when we obey orders, things go the right way—like with Corazon.”

  “Oh yeah,” Fenner said, with an odd giggle, “that did go good, didn’t it? Only, why didn’t we burn the town down?”

  Murdock lowered the glasses again and glared at his partner.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Fenner said, “orders.”

  “That’s right.” Murdock let go of the glasses so that they hung from his neck, and got up from the prone position the two men were in on a hill. “We’d better get back.”

  “What do we have to report?” Fenner asked.

  “That there’s a man on the property.”

  “But we don’t know who he is,” Fenner said, as they walked down the hill to where they had left their horses.

  “But we know he’s stayin’ there,” Murdock said, “and we know he wears a gun like he knows how to use it.”

  “And how could you tell that?”

  Murdock mounted his horse, then touched the glasses hanging from his neck and said, “That much I could tell with these.”

  ~*~

  “I just figured it needed to be oiled,” Teresa said to Clint as they entered the barn. I’ve just never got around to it.”

  “Well, we’ll take a look,” he said. “Hopefully that’s all it is.”

  But when he got underneath the buckboard he saw that it wasn’t the case.

  “The axle’s bent,” he said. “Not bad, but enough.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “We straighten it,” he said.

  “How do we do that?”

  “A few whacks with a hammer might do it,” he said. “We’ll have to hike the buckboard up on something. If it doesn’t work that way I’ll the axle off.”

  “That sounds like a lot of work,” she said.

  “I think we can handle it,” he said. “Come on.”

  ~*~

  While Clint
and Teresa were in the barn Belinda stood out on the front porch. Loretta came out behind her.

  “What’re you doin’?” she asked.

  “Just watchin’ the barn.”

  “Why?”

  “Whataya think they’re doin’ in there?” Belinda asked.

  “They’re supposed to be makin’ repairs.”

  Belinda looked at her older sister.

  “How long do you think he’s gonna stay?”

  “I don’t know, Belinda,” Loretta said. “How many repairs do we need around here?”

  “A few.”

  “So he’ll take care of them and then he’ll want to be on his way.”

  Belinda turned to face Loretta and looked concerned.

  “What are we gonna do if he wants to leave?”

  “What do you think we should do?” Loretta asked.

  “Well ... we can’t let him leave.”

  “Why Belinda,” Loretta said, with a rare smile, “did you have fun last night.”

  “Loretta,” she said, “he did things—I felt like I’ve never felt before.”

  “Yeah,” Loretta said, “I know what you mean.”

  “So we can’t let him leave!” Belinda grabbed her sister’s arm. “You gotta think of somethin’, Loretta. You’re the smart one.”

  “Yeah,” Loretta said, “I’m the smart one.” She patted her sister’s hand. “I’ll think of somethin’.”

  Fourteen

  Clint was able to hammer the axle straight—or almost straight—and then oil it so that it wouldn’t squeak anymore.

  “There you go,” Clint said. He spun the wheel. They stood together and listened intently.

  “Hey,” Teresa said, “No squeak.”

  “That’s right. No squeak.”

  He had used a two-by-four and some leverage to raise the buckboard off the ground. Now he dropped it back down and slid the two-by-four from beneath it. He worked the buckboard back-and-forth a few times.

  “That should do it.” He looked at Teresa, saw she had a smudge of oil on her cheek. He laughed.

  “What’s funny?” she asked.

  “Hold still.” With his thumb he wiped the oil off. It brought their faces close together, so she kissed him. She meant it to be a short kiss, but it went on longer, and became deeper. Before they knew it, they were slipping each other’s clothes off and found their way to the same bed of hay where he had lain with Loretta the night before.

  Clint kissed her beck, shoulders and breasts while she worked her hands between them to take hold of his hard cock. When she started stroking him he slid one hand down between her legs to return the favor.

  “Oh,” she groaned, “come on, come on, put it in me, Clint, before they come lookin’ for us.”

  He would have liked to spend as much time with her as he had spent with Belinda the night before, but like Loretta, she was in a hurry. So he rolled on top of her. poked his cock up against her hot, moist pussy and slid right inside.

  “Oh yeah,” she said, “that’s it. Mmmm, just like that.”

  He pumped in and out of her slowly, at first, and then quicker. He was careful not to lose himself in the movements. He didn’t want to remind her of her brutish husband.

  She wrapped her legs around him, raked his back with her fingers. If she’d had longer nails she would have clawed scratches into his back.

  Then she groaned, arched her back, spasmed, and bit her lip to keep from crying out. At that moment he ejaculated inside of her, a hot torrent of cum that almost made her lose control and scream out.

  Instead, she bit down on his shoulder. He was sure the sisters all knew what was going on, otherwise he’d have to worry about her leaving a mark the other girls would see.

  “Omigod,” she said, as he slid off of her.

  He stood up, pulled on his trouser, looking down at her lying on her back naked in the hay.

  “You better get dressed before I get hard again,” he said. “You look to damn good lying there.”

  “Why thank you, sir.”

  He turned his back, pulled on his shirt and strapped on his gunbelt.

  Teresa stood up and got herself dressed.

  “So,” she said, when they turned to face each other again, “now what?”

  “Show me what else needs fixing,” he said.

  “The corral out back.”

  “Lead the way.”

  ~*~

  Later, while they were working on repairing a section of the corral, Belinda came walking over, carrying a bucket of water fresh from the well.

  “I thought you might be thirsty,” she said.

  “You’re a life saver,” Clint said. He took the cup from her, dipped it into the bucket, and then handed it to Teresa. “Your sister is a slave driver.”

  “She learned that from Loretta,” Belinda said.

  “Thank you,” Teresa said, handing him the cup. He took a quick drink and gave the cup back to Belinda.

  “Now get back to work,” she said, with a smile.

  “I can see all you girls are as bad as one another,” he commented.

  “Or as good,” Belinda said, and flounced away.

  “She’s jealous,” Teresa said.

  “There’s nothing for any of you to be jealous about,” he said.

  “I’m gettin’ to spend more time with you today,” Teresa said.

  “Speaking of which,” he said, “let’s get this job done so we can move on to something else—that is, if you have something else.”

  “We’ve got lots more that need fixin’ around here,” Teresa assured him. She had sweat through her shirt, which was sticking to her so tightly he could see the outline of her breasts and nipples very clearly. “We can keep you busy here for a long time.”

  “Well,” he said, “I’ll have to be on my way soon, but I can give it a few more days.”

  Fifteen

  Murdock and Fenner rode to a stronghold that was halfway between Corazon and the Perkins house. As they rode into camp the men stopped what they were doing and watched. They continued through the camp to the small cabin at the far end and dismounted. The door opened and a man named Skinner came out.

  “What took you so long?” he asked. “He’s been waitin’ on you.”

  “Well,” Murdock said, “we had to watch, didn’t we? That’s what he tol’ us.”

  “Yeah, you had to watch,” Skinner said. “You better go on in.”

  “Is he in a bad mood?” Fenner asked.

  “When is he not in a bad mood?” Skinner asked.

  The two men walked past Skinner and entered the cabin.

  ~*~

  Frank Lomax was still feeling good about what he and his men had done to Corazon. The town and its people had deserved it. But he wasn’t quite done, yet. He was just allowing some time to pass before making his next move.

  As the door opened, he looked up and frowned. He always frowned around his men. He knew it scared them.

  “Don’t you knock?” he demanded.

  “Huh? Oh, Skinner said to come in—” Murdock started.

  “We can go out and knock,” Fenner offered.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Lomax said. “Come in and close the door.”

  They did so, then stood with their hands behind their backs and waited. They were both in their twenties, while Lomax was twenty years older. Skinner, his Segundo, was in his thirties, and the bridge between himself and the younger men under his command. That’s how he thought of them, as a command, not a gang. That came from spending so many years in the Army—until they kicked him out.

  “So what’s goin’ on?” Lomax asked.

  “Not much,” Murdock said, “they went into town and got some supplies, is all.”

  “Looked like they cleaned out what was left at the mercantile,” Fenner offered.

  “That must’ve taken a while,” Lomax said. “Loretta stay home?”

  “She did,” Murdock said, “sent the other two to do the job, like usual.”

/>   Lomax studied the two men for a long few seconds, then asked, “So what’s different?”

  “There was a man in town when they got there,” Murdock said. “Passin’ through. He helped them pack the buckboard, then went back to the house with them.”

  “That a fact? Then what?”

  “Then he stayed,” Fenner said. “Looks like he’s helpin’ them make some repairs.”

  “Who is he?”

  Murdock and Fenner exchanged a glance.

  “We don’t know,” Murdock said. “I mean, I saw him through the glasses, but I didn’t know who he was.”

  “He wearin’ a gun?”

  “He is,” Fenner said.

  “Do you think the girls hired him?” Lomax asked. “Met him in town because they asked him to come there?”

  “Didn’t look that way,” Murdock said. “Looked like a chance meetin’.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  The two men stood there while Lomax digested what they’d told him.

  “Anythin’ else?” he asked.

  “Well ...” Fenner said.

  Murdock looked at him.

  “What?” Lomax asked.

  “He has a horse,” Fenner said.

  “So?”

  “A real big horse,” Fenner went on. “I ain’t never seen one like it.”

  Lomax took the time to digest that.

  “Okay,” he said, “get out, and send Skinner in.”

  “Sure, boss,” Murdock said. He and Fenner went back out the door.

  Moments later Skinner walked in.

  “You wanted me?”

  “Yeah,” Lomax said, “tomorrow I want you to go have a look around the house.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because there’s a man out there, and those two idiots don’t know who he is.”

  “You think I will?”

  “You know everybody, Skinner,” Lomax said. “If you get a look at his face, you’ll know him. And then you’ll tell me.”

  “And then?”

  “And then we’ll know what we’ll be dealin’ with.”

  Sixteen

  Rather than stop for lunch, Clint and Teresa kept working, while Loretta and Belinda made an early supper.

  “Damn,” Teresa said, “I’m sore.”

  “Hard work,” Clint said.

 

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