by Jon Sharpe
Fargo breathed a little easier. Maxine must have called them off. He reached down and felt his leg and his hand grew wet with blood. He was bleeding badly. As much as he might want to, he couldn’t stay there. He waited a while longer, just to be sure, and then lowered his legs over the side and dropped. His wounded leg nearly gave out but he stayed on his feet. Propping his rifle against the front wheel, he bent to examine the bite.
Light filled the doorway.
In came James and Landreth. Behind them were Moon, Conklin, Tucker and Beck, their six-shooters out and cocked.
“Here you are,” James said. “It was a mistake to come back.”
“Why?”
“We know it was you,” Landreth declared. He pointed his cane at Moon and the others and then at Fargo. “If he so much as twitches, gentlemen, blow him to hell and back.”
“What is this?” Fargo demanded.
“Your ploy with your horse didn’t work,” James said. “Now you will pay and pay dearly.”
9
Fargo had no idea what he was talking about. He resented having the four revolvers pointed at him but for the moment there was nothing he could do.
“Where is she?” James demanded.
“Where the hell is who?”
“You know very well who,” Landreth declared, advancing and raising his cane.
“Don’t!” Moon hollered.
Landreth didn’t listen, which was fine by Fargo because now Landreth was between him and the four hardcases. They couldn’t shoot without Landreth taking a slug.
“You’ll tell us, or so help me, I’ll beat it out of you.” Landreth swung the cane.
Fargo’s hand streaked to his Colt even as he raised his other arm to ward off the blow. The pain made him grit his teeth. The next split second he rammed the Colt’s barrel into Landreth’s gut and Landreth started to double over. Spinning him around, Fargo hooked his left arm about Landreth’s neck and jerked the dandy upright.
“No!” James cried. “Don’t hurt him.”
“Holster your hardware and be quick about it,” Fargo said, gouging the Colt against Landreth’s cheek.
James turned. “Do it! Under no circumstances is Roy to be harmed.”
“He’s your pard,” Moon said. He nodded at the others and twirled his pistols into his holsters. The others holstered theirs with less flourish.
“What about our pard?” Conklin said.
James faced Fargo and held his hands out from his sides. “There. See? You can let go of Roy.”
Landreth tried to pull loose and Fargo gouged the barrel harder. “Stand still.” Fargo focused on James. “Take a gander at my leg.”
“Excuse me?”
“Look at my leg, you idiot.”
All of them did, and James blurted, “You’re bleeding!”
“I went looking for my horse and was attacked by a pack of dogs.”
Fargo wasn’t ready to mention Maxine and her sister and pa just yet. “They treed me and I just made it back.”
Tucker said, “I told you I heard a dog barkin’ but no one would believe me. I’ve got good ears.”
“Then it couldn’t have been him who busted Shorty’s skull,” Conklin said to Moon.
Fargo didn’t hide his surprise. “Shorty’s dead?”
It was Moon who answered. “Someone snuck up on him and caved his head in. Harker and Landreth reckoned as how it had to be you. I told them you didn’t strike me as the backkillin’ kind but they wouldn’t listen.”
“Shorty isn’t the only calamity,” James said. “Whoever killed him snuck into the millinery and carried Esther off. Gretchen was sleeping in the same room but didn’t hear a thing.”
“Where’s Gretchen now?” Fargo had images of her in the hands of the figure in the hood.
“Here I am.” She stepped into the stable, wearing her heavy robe. “James made me come with them. He says I dare not be alone.”
“It’s for your own good, my dear.”
“At least let me go back and get dressed.”
“In a minute.” James smiled at Fargo. “You can release Roy. I believe your story.”
“Do you, now?” Fargo angrily shoved Landreth so hard that he stumbled and would have fallen if James hadn’t caught him and held him up. “The next time your gunnies point their hardware at me, you’ll be the first one I shoot.”
“It was an honest mistake.”
“Go to hell.” Fargo put his back to the wheel and eased down. He pried at his stained pant leg.
“What are you doing?” James asked.
Fargo thought he was talking to him and looked up. Gretchen was hurrying to his side. Kneeling, she moved his hands.
“Let me. My father is a doctor and I know a little about treating wounds.”
She pulled the buckskin as high as it would go. “Oh my. It got you good.”
The puncture marks were deep and still bleeding.
“Why were dogs after you, anyhow?” James asked. “There shouldn’t be any here. No one has lived in Kill Creek in years. Isn’t that what you told me, Mr. Moon?”
Moon nodded.
“This needs to be bandaged,” Gretchen said to James. “He can come with me to the dress shop.”
Landreth had recovered enough to straighten and scowl. “That’s not necessary. One of us can do it.”
“He’s coming with me,” Gretchen insisted, and rose. “Do you need help to walk, Mr. Fargo?”
Fargo was going to say no, that he wasn’t helpless, but it would give him an excuse to be close to her. “I would be obliged, ma’am.” Bracing against a spoke, he rose and grabbed the Henry, then slid his other arm over Gretchen’s shoulders.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Send a man with them,” James ordered Moon. “The rest of us will continue our search for Esther.”
“There’s no need for that,” Gretchen said. “We can manage, and you’ll need every man you have to find her quickly.”
Landreth wouldn’t let it drop. “It’s not proper you going with him alone.”
“No. She’s right,” James said. “We need everyone. That includes you, Mr. Fargo, once you have that leg taken care of.”
“Ask me nice and maybe I will.”
Landreth reclaimed his cane. “The nerve you have. Don’t think I’ll forget that you’ve struck me, twice.”
“Don’t be such an ass,” Gretchen said.
Landreth and James both appeared shocked. Moon, his hands on the butts of his Remingtons, laughed and said, “I reckon she told you.”
Fargo limped out at Gretchen’s side. Once they were out of sight, he kissed her on the cheek. “That’s to repay you for the kiss you gave me earlier.”
“Don’t start with that again. I’m helping you out of the goodness of my heart, not because I want to make love to you.”
“Your kiss said different.”
“Honestly. Here you are, practically bled to death from a dog bite, and all you can think of is ravishing me?”
“I like that word. It wasn’t the one I would use but I would take particular delight in ravishing you silly.”
“You’re hopeless. Do you know that?”
Fargo kissed her again, this time on the ear. “I’d say I have plenty to hope for, seeing as how you haven’t smacked me.”
“How can I when I’m carrying you?” Gretchen responded. “Although I notice you’re not bearing down much of your weight. You didn’t really need my help, did you?”
“No.”
“Then why are we doing this?”
“So I can touch your body.”
Gretchen laughed but immediately stopped and said, “Listen to me. Here you have me smiling and my best friend was just taken. I must be a wretched person.”
“You look fine to me.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Poor Esther. Where can she be?”
“You didn’t hear or see a thing?”
“No, and that makes it even stranger. I
couldn’t sleep well. I was tossing and turning. The slightest sounds would wake me. Yet somehow, someone snuck into our room and carried Esther off without me hearing a thing. To say nothing of the fact that they murdered that poor cowboy.”
Fargo knew Moon and his men weren’t cowpokes. They wore slickers as cowboys did and wore boots and spurs and hats as cowboys did, but they no more made their living riding herd on cows than the queen of England. They were six-guns for hire, killers who squeezed the trigger for money.
“I’m so upset I don’t know what to do,” Gretchen had gone on. “I tried to warn Esther that no good would come of this insane scheme of hers but she wouldn’t listen.”
“Then it’s on her, not you.”
“True, I suppose. But that doesn’t make it easier. I’ve been her friend for so long, we’re like sisters.” Gretchen sighed and her shoulders slumped. “I wish I could blot all this from my mind. I wish I could get a good night’s sleep so I can think better come morning.”
“I know a way.” Fargo kissed her on the lips.
“Honestly. You’re hopeless,” Gretchen said, but not unkindly.
They neared the dress shop. Fargo had been keeping one eye peeled but saw no sign of Maxine and her dogs or Serilda or the figure in the hood. Once his leg was bandaged he intended to make it his first order of business to find them. Or maybe his second order of business.
Shorty’s body lay where it had fallen. Fargo had Gretchen stop so he could examine it. The blow that killed the gun hand had been immensely powerful. It smashed Shorty’s hat down onto his head with such force that the Stetson was driven into his brain pan and his brains had oozed from the cracks in his skull.
“How horrid.” Gretchen looked away.
Fargo was about to rise when he noticed a bulge in the slicker. In all the excitement over Shorty’s death and Esther being taken, James and Moon had forgotten about Shorty’s six-shooter; it was still in his holster. Fargo held it up. It was a long-barreled Colt with six pills in the wheel. He held it out to Gretchen.
“What’s this for?”
“Anyone tries to cart you off, you shoot the son of a bitch.”
“I’m not much good with one.”
“Stick it in their face and you won’t miss.”
“Can we go? I can’t stand being near him.”
“Lead the way.” Fargo limped after her. They went down a short hall to a back room. A lit lantern was in the center. Spread out along opposite walls were their blankets. Trunks and bags were stacked in a corner.
“You see,” Gretchen said, pointing at the blankets. “We weren’t but ten feet apart yet I didn’t hear a thing. How can that be?”
“Whoever took her clamped a hand over her mouth and got her out before she could struggle or scream.”
“Sit down and I’ll get to work. We have a waterskin from the stage, and I can tear up a towel for bandages.”
Fargo sat where he could watch the door. There wasn’t a window. He placed the Henry next to him and pried off his boot. It took some doing. His leg had swelled.
Gretchen sank onto her knees and set about exposing the dog bite and washing it. “How do you feel? As much blood as you’ve lost, I’m surprised you’re not light-headed.”
Fargo had had a bout or two since being bitten but at the moment he felt all right. He told her, adding, “I have something else on my mind.”
“Not that again.”
Putting his hands on her shoulders, Fargo drew her to him. He let the kiss linger but took no other liberties, and then sat back.
“You’re awful free with your lips.”
Fargo crooked a finger under her chin. She didn’t resist. He kissed her again, longer and harder, then settled back with a grin. “Hurry up with that bandage. We have more kissing to do.”
“Aren’t you worried that whoever took Esther will come back?”
Fargo patted the Henry. “Let them.”
“I don’t quite know what to make of you. You’re either a fool or braver than most.”
The bandaging took a while. There was a lot of blood to clean up. It had dried and caked and took some scrubbing. Gretchen rummaged in a trunk and came back with a bottle of tincture of iodine. Saying it might sting a little, she applied the tincture to each of the puncture marks and wiped off the excess.
Fargo occasionally heard shouts from down the street. James and company were going from building to building, and from what he could tell, not having any success.
Gretchen produced a clean towel and scissors from a sewing kit. She was cutting the towel into strips when footsteps thumped in the hall and into the room came James Harker, Roy Landreth and Moon.
“Is everything all right, my dear?” James asked.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“What on earth is taking so long?” Landreth brusquely demanded. “We’ve searched half the town already.”
“I had to be sure the wound is clean so there’s no risk of infection.”
“Hurry it up so he can help us in the hunt.”
“He should wait a while.”
“Nonsense,” Landreth said. “I won’t leave him alone with you any longer than necessary.”
Gretchen appealed to James. “You saw yourself how much blood he lost. He’s weak and could collapse if he exerts himself too soon. Give him an hour to rest and he’ll be fit enough to lend a hand.”
“If you think it necessary he can have half an hour,” James said. “But are you sure you’ll be safe?”
“Safer than I would be without anyone here to protect me.”
“Very well.” James moved to the doorway. “Come on, Roy. She’ll be fine. Not much can happen in that short a time.”
“I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.” Landreth departed, scowling.
Moon was the last to leave. He grinned at Fargo and said, “They don’t have a lick of sense, do they?” He sauntered out, his spurs tinkling.
“What did he mean by that?” Gretchen asked.
“Your friend Harker was wrong. A lot can happen in half an hour.” Fargo smiled and reached for her.
10
Fargo half thought she might pull away but she didn’t. He rimmed her soft lips with the tip of his tongue and her mouth parted. She was tentative at first, but as the kiss lingered on and his hands sculpted the contours of her body, her reserve broke and she melted into him. Her hands rose around his neck and her warm fingers pressed his skin.
“That was nice,” Gretchen said dreamily. “You are a wonderful kisser. You must have had a lot of practice.”
“A little,” Fargo admitted.
Gretchen glanced anxiously at the doorway. “What if they should come back while we are . . .” She didn’t finish.
“They won’t. They’re too busy looking for Esther.” Fargo shifted and pulled her onto his lap.
“Some friend I am. I should be out there helping.”
“You can join them after,” Fargo said. He ran a hand through her hair, admiring the velvet feel of the strands.
“Are you sure half an hour is enough?”
Fargo chuckled. “Five minutes is enough so we can take our time.”
“I don’t know.” Gretchen put her cheek on his shoulder. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m not reckless by nature.”
“You’re the one who said she would like to forget for a while,” Fargo reminded her as he ran his right hand from her shoulder to her narrow waist. “There’s no better way.”
Gretchen looked him in the eyes. “What is it about you? I mean, you’re handsome and all. Maybe the handsomest man I’ve ever met. But that’s no reason to throw myself at you.”
“You call this throwing?”
“For me it is.”
Fargo sensed that she was changing her mind. He covered her mouth with his and her breast with his hand. At his first squeeze she let out a fluttering moan. He pinched the nipple through her robe and felt it harden like a tack.
“Goodness, what you do to me.”
“There’s more where that came from.” Fargo cupped her other breast and kneaded it.
“Oh God.”
Deftly opening the robe, Fargo slid his hand underneath. He figured she would have a chemise or some other garment on but his fingers caressed bare skin. “You hussy, you,” he teased.
“What? Oh. I didn’t have time to unpack all I wanted. I don’t usually sleep with nothing but a robe.”
“Lucky me,” Fargo said, and opened it wider. Her gorgeous mounds bulged free, round and full and inviting. He lowered his mouth to a nipple and flicked it with his tongue. Gretchen squirmed and pulled hard on his hair, nearly knocking his hat off. He switched to the other nipple and lightly nipped it while he squeezed and caressed both breasts. She breathed in low gasps and wriggled her bottom.
“I like that.”
So did Fargo. He dallied at her melons a while and then remembered they had only half an hour. Taking hold of her hips, he said, “Part your legs.” Her face flushed but she did as he wanted and he swiveled her around so she faced him. The robe came open all the way and he saw the flat of her belly and the golden thatch below. His manhood, already hard, became iron.
“What is it about you?” Gretchen wondered again.
“Let me know if you figure it out.” Fargo shifted his hands from her hips to her bottom and dug his nails in.
Arching her back, Gretchen whispered, “You make me want to do things I shouldn’t.”
“Maybe it’s my bandanna?”
Gretchen laughed and then gasped as he slid one of his hands from her buttocks to the junction of her thighs. He massaged down to her knee. Her skin was delightfully soft and deliciously warm. He cupped her, and his middle finger became moist. A flick of his fingertip set her to throwing back her head and moaning.
“You sure know how to please a girl.”
“I’m just getting warmed up.” Fargo kissed her and stroked her neck and rubbed her shoulder and slid his finger up inside of her.
“Ohhhh.” Gretchen’s eyelids fluttered.
Fargo added a second finger. She was wet for him, and when he pumped his fingers, she uttered tiny mews and ground against his hand. Her lips fused to his. He stroked and they kissed and her body grew hot to his touch. She panted as he licked her neck and bit her earlobe and traced the tip of his tongue from her throat to her cleavage.
