by Jon Sharpe
“Pardon?” Marie said.
“The condemned isn’t hungry,” Fargo said. In truth, he was famished, but he’d be damned if he’d show them he was.
“Come now, monsieur,” Marie chided. “The girls have worked so hard. Would you insult them by not eating?”
Fargo barely stopped himself from lunging out of his chair and slamming his fist into her face. As calmly as he could, he asked, “How often do you beat them?”
Her fork poised over her plate, Marie said, “Eh? Oh, I hit them when they don’t behave. But that is what any parent does, is it not so?”
“Do you have kids of your own?”
Marie looked at Anton and frowned. “Non. We have tried but one of us is not able to pass on his seed.”
“Hell, woman,” Laguerre growled. “Tell him all our secrets, why don’t you?”
“Don’t be mad, mon cher. I have long since resigned myself to it.”
Fargo couldn’t stand to look at her. He never knew that Laguerre had a wife. Never would have suspected that she was more of a monster than her husband.
“You should at least try to eat,” Marie said.
Fargo picked up his fork and knife. He wasn’t going to, but the slab of roast buffalo meat and buttered potatoes made his mouth water. And he did need to keep up his strength.
“That’s better,” Marie said when he took his first bite. She waved a hand at the girls. “Out you go. I will call you if we need you.”
Laguerre stabbed at his food with his fork, the chink of metal on the plate loud.
“What is the matter with you?” Marie asked. “Why are you mad?”
“You know damn well why.”
“Don’t take that tone with me. I can no more not be true to my nature than you can’t be true to yours.”
“Fancy words,” Laguerre said. “You always have an excuse.”
“I have needs.”
Fargo wondered what in hell they were talking about.
“Don’t talk to me of needs, wife,” Laguerre said. “Do I do what you do?”
“You know better.”
Laguerre set down his fork so hard, it was a wonder his plate didn’t break. “You are the only person alive who can talk to me like that.”
“And you are the only man who gets to spend entire nights with me, so we are even.”
Laguerre snorted. “I should be grateful for your great gift, is that it?” He suddenly stood. “I have lost my appetite. I will be back later.” With that, he beckoned to the two men covering Fargo and all three walked out.
“I do so despise it when he acts like that,” Marie said.
Fargo marveled that they’d left him unguarded.
Marie must have guessed what he was thinking because she said, “Do not get any ideas. I will not hesitate to shoot you if you try to escape. And if you look out the tent, you will see that those two didn’t go far.”
The pair with the rifles had, in fact, taken up positions on either side of the flaps.
“It’s just you and me now,” Marie said, and smiled seductively.
“Oh, hell,” Fargo said.
“You seem taken aback.”
Fargo was. “You rub his nose in it and he still lets you?”
“Lets me?” Marie said. “No one tells me what I can and cannot do. Not even him.”
“Either you’re dumb as hell or you must be something special.”
Marie rimmed her red lips with the tip of her tongue. “Can you guess which?”
“Damn, lady.”
“Have no fear. He won’t come storming in and gut you with his knife.”
“So you say.”
“Let me make it plain,” Marie Laguerre said. “I have Anton wrapped around my little finger. Anything I want, I have only to ask. It has been this way since we met. He is, as you might say, smitten.”
“Was it you who came up with the idea to come here for the gold?”
“Who would not desire to be wealthy?” Marie rejoined. “Yes, I put him up to coming here. And, yes, it was my idea to use the settlers. I am, as the British would say, the power behind the throne.”
“You’re something,” Fargo said.
“I get what I want,” Marie declared fiercely. “And at the moment, I want you.”
30
Fargo shook his head in amazement. “Damn me if you’re not serious.”
“Why would I not be? Let’s finish our meal. The condemned man, as you call yourself, will need to be at his best later. Disappoint me and you will die that much sooner.”
Fargo forked a piece of potato. Since she was being so talkative, he decided to fish for information. “Where does Jacques Grevy fit into your scheme of things?”
“Grevy?” Marie said. “He has been Anton’s friend since they were boys. He is strange, that one. He cares neither for women nor gold. He has only one passion in life.”
“What would that be?” Fargo asked when she didn’t go on.
“Killing.”
“Not much of a passion.”
Marie laughed without warmth. “No, it is not. He makes a sport of it. To test himself, he says. Once he let himself be captured by some white trappers who had issues with us just to see if he could escape from them.”
“That’s loco,” Fargo said. But he was thinking of how easily he’d caught Grevy himself, and how smug the man had been about it.
“I agree. He takes needless risks. I would rather be in control of a situation than throw myself into peril to see if I can survive as he is doing with those soldiers you are with.”
“You don’t say.”
“When Anton failed to scare them off, we decided it would be best to wipe them out.”
“And bring the army down on your heads?”
“It will be a while before the colonel at Fort Laramie sends more men to find out what happened to them. By then we will have as much gold as we need and will be well on our way to Canada.”
“You have it all thought out.”
“It is what I do best. And another reason Anton will never harm a hair on my head. He is a great leader of men but he is not a great thinker. That is where I come in.”
Fargo had to get to the settlement and warn Wright. But that would take some doing.
“You think a lot, yourself,” Marie remarked.
“It’s a bad habit I can’t shake.”
She placed her elbows on the table and thrust her bosom out. “So tell me. Would the condemned man care for a last taste of the fruit of the forbidden tree?”
“Is that what they call it in Canada?”
Laughing, Marie said, “I am being discreet. I am, after all, a lady.”
No, Fargo almost said, you’re anything but. “How about if you blow out the lanterns and we get to it?”
“Not so fast,” Marie replied. “It is early yet. We will wait until most of the camp is asleep. I have Anton to think of. We can’t have everyone whispering behind his back.”
“How considerate of you.”
Her cheeks colored and she said, “Insult me again and I will have you tied and beaten and in the morning Anton will put an end to you.”
“It wasn’t an insult,” Fargo added to his lies. “You can’t be the power behind the throne if there’s no throne.”
That seemed to mollify her. “Very true. You have no idea. But as you can see, it’s worth the effort. I live the best of all our band. And if they presume to complain, Anton deals with them.”
“I never heard of a Metis band like this one.”
“There isn’t any. We are unique. Rogues, you might say. The other bands think we give them a bad name.” She laughed merrily.
“You sure have opened my eyes.”
“It is too bad they will be closed permanently before the new day is out.”
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On that note she fell silent and concentrated on her meal.
Fargo ate without tasting much. He was working out how to escape. Slipping from the encampment wouldn’t be easy, what with the guards and the dogs, but if he could reach the forest he was confident they’d never catch him.
After a while Marie clapped her hands several times and the little girls returned to bear the plates away.
“Would you care for dessert?” she asked.
Fargo smiled and looked at her breasts. “Those will do me just fine.”
“Oh my,” Marie said, pleased. “Come midnight or so, you will have your wish. But now, if you will excuse me, there are people I must talk to.”
Fargo watched her walk out. She did have a nice ass.
It was a shame she was about the most vile human being he’d ever come across.
He looked around for a weapon but if there was one, it was well hidden.
A shadow filled the tent, and without looking up he said, “That’s some woman you’ve got there.”
“She is everything to me,” Anton Laguerre said.
“Yet you let her play with other men.”
“Don’t rub my nose in it,” Laguerre warned. “That wouldn’t be wise.”
Fargo met his cold gaze. “They have a word for men like you. Two words, actually. One of them is whipped.”
Laguerre bristled. His huge hands opened and closed and he took a step but stopped. “No. It would make her mad.”
“Whipped as whipped can be.”
“For that, American, I will make an example of you. You will suffer as no one has suffered since the dawn of time.”
“Sticks and stones,” Fargo said.
“You remind me of Jacques. He, too, is always so calm in the face of danger. He, too, is always secretly laughing at others. But you will be laughing out your ass when I am done with you.” Laguerre turned to go.
“One thing,” Fargo said.
“Eh?”
“Does she like to be on top or the bottom?”
It was a wonder steam didn’t come out of Anton Laguerre’s ears. “You provoke me. Why?” He cocked his head. “You are up to something. What is it?”
Fargo hadn’t figured on him being so shrewd. “It’s as you said. I like to provoke folks. It comes naturally.”
Laguerre grinned a death’s head grin. “Dying will come naturally, too.”
31
Fargo was left alone in the big tent. He got up and prowled about and then saw the guards peering in at him and sat back down.
Seldom had time dragged so slowly. He hated that he had to wait to make his break. For all he knew, Jacques Grevy was making a break of his own.
Outside, the camp grew quiet. The few voices stilled. There was less moving about. Some of the lanterns he could see out the front flaps were extinguished.
He wondered what was keeping Marie. He wondered if Bear River Tom would become impatient and come down to see what was going on. He wondered if Lieutenant Wright and Private Davenport and the rest were still alive.
Suddenly Marie was there. She said something to the guards, then entered and closed the front flaps and tied them. “So we will not be disturbed,” she said over her shoulder.
“We wouldn’t want that,” Fargo said. He sure as hell wouldn’t.
Marie turned and pointed at the bearskin rug. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“Why not?” Pushing his chair back, Fargo rose and moved to the rug and sat with his knees bent and his arms draped over them.
Unbuckling her gun belt, Marie moved to the table. She set her revolver and knife down and came over to stand above him with an odd sort of smile on her red lips and her hands on her hips. “You are about the handsomest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“I know what I’d like to lay,” Fargo said.
“That is not how this works,” Marie said. Without warning, she flicked her right foot out, slamming her boot against his chest and pressing him flat onto his back.
“What the hell?” Fargo said, grabbing her ankle.
“Ah, ah,” Marie said, shaking her head and wagging a finger. “I’m in control. I’m always in control. You don’t make love to me. I make love to you. Think of me as the man and you as the woman.”
Fargo resisted an urge to wrench on her leg and upend her. “This will be different.”
“I don’t care for your tone. Don’t tell me you’re one of those who can’t stand it when a woman is in the saddle?”
“Ride away,” Fargo said. He would play along for a while to get her off her guard.
“First things first.” Marie removed her foot and went to a small chest. Kneeling, she opened it. Her back was to him and he couldn’t see what she was taking out. When she stood and turned, she had handcuffs in one hand and a riding crop in the other.
“What the hell?”
“My toys,” Marie said. “I have a lot more.” She nodded at the chest. “Before we’re through, you’ll see every one.”
Fargo sat up. He wasn’t about to let her cuff him. She might not free him again. “You never said anything about this part.”
“Why should I? You will do exactly as I say and as I want or we will end this now and the guards will take you away.” Marie came to the rug and wagged the cuffs. “Take off your shirt and put your hands behind your back.”
Fargo glanced at the flaps. Were the guards listening? he wondered. Were they even out there? He removed his hat and set it aside.
“We don’t need that,” Marie said, and kicked it.
The hat flipped end over end and landed a few feet away.
Fargo frowned. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“When will you get it through your head? You don’t tell me what to do. I tell you. Now get that shirt off.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Fargo said. He pulled and tugged the buckskin up over his shoulders and head and placed it next to him.
Marie kicked that, too.
Fargo stared up at her and smiled. “This is going to be fun.”
“Now you’re getting into the spirit of things.” She stepped behind him and set down the riding crop. “Your wrists, if you please. And even if you don’t.”
Fargo kept on smiling and looked over his shoulder. “Here you go,” he said, and shifted his arms behind him. She reached for his left wrist and opened a cuff to snap it on. Whirling, he seized her forearm and shoved her onto the rug. Before she could stop him, he slid his knee between her thighs and cupped her breast while swooping his mouth to hers.
For a few moments Marie was completely still. Then she exploded. She dropped the handcuffs and pushed at his chest with both hands and pulled her head away, saying, “Goddamn you. Get off me.”
Fargo squeezed her tit, hard.
“I mean it!” Marie hissed, and tried to ram her leg into his groin.
Rolling onto his side, Fargo propped his head in his hand. “Something the matter?”
Marie swore. “You don’t listen. I told you. I am in control. I say how we will make love. Not you.”
Fargo eased onto his back and placed his hands behind his head. “Get making, then. Just be careful of that bulge in my pants.”
Marie looked down. A hunger came into her eyes, and they widened. “You are hard already?”
“A tit will do that,” Fargo said, and was glad Bear River Tom wasn’t there.
“You and a stallion have something in common.”
“Why don’t you find out just how big I am?” Fargo sought to distract her from the handcuffs.
She was reaching for them, but stopped. “Will you lie there and behave?”
“As God is my witness.”
Cupping his crotch, Marie ran her hand the length of his pole. “Oh my. You know, I have never understood how big men can have small ones
and small men can have big ones.”
“For a woman who says she wants to make love, you sure do gab a lot.”
“All these muscles,” Marie said, placing her other hand on his washboard gut.
“Gab, gab, gab.”
“I will show you,” Marie said. Eagerly, she worked at loosening his pants, and yanked. He had to raise his backside in order for her to pull them low enough.
Sitting back, she undid her blouse and left it on but open. She removed her boots and slid her pants off. Under other circumstances he would have been amused to discover she had on nothing underneath.
“God, I want you,” Marie said huskily. Rising, she straddled him, gripped his member, and slowly impaled herself.
Fargo did nothing to help. She wanted control, she could have it so long as she didn’t go for the cuffs.
Throwing back her head, Marie closed her eyes and gasped, “Ohhhh. You feel good.”
So did she but Fargo stayed quiet.
Placing her hands on his chest, Marie moved her hips in a languid pumping motion. “I should warn you. I like to take my time.”
“You know what they say,” Fargo said.
She arched an eyebrow.
“The longer, the better.”
“In more ways than one,” Marie said, and laughed. “Now let’s get to it.”
32
Some would say that Fargo had bedded more than his share of females. But never, ever, had he ever been with a woman like Marie Laguerre. When he reached for a tit, she slapped his hand away. When he raised his head to try to kiss her, she shoved him back down. She wasn’t fooling when she said she wanted to be in control.
So long as the cuffs stayed out of it, Fargo didn’t mind. He had time to kill, anyway.
Closing her eyes, Marie ran her hands over his chest and neck. She bent and bit his ear so hard, it hurt. Then she bent lower and sank her teeth so deep into his shoulder, she drew drops of blood.
Wincing from the pain, Fargo said, “Didn’t you have enough supper?”
“You are a big baby. So what if I like a little blood with my lovemaking.” Marie grinned and licked the drops while looking him in the eyes.
