Dance With A Gunfighter (22 page)

Cramer grimaced, his jaw working furiously. He spat, then
turned toward Melissa. "She's yer charge, Melissa. If'n you cain't control
her, I'll git someone who cain!"

"What about him?" Lomax asked, jerking his thumb
toward McLowry.

"Damn it! He's gonna be dead soon. I don’t know why
the hell I should care."

"But Tanner said don’t kill ‘em. He said just to
capture ‘em, and wait for him to get here."

"Yeah, so?" Cramer sneered.

"So, he might not like it if he comes back and finds
out we killed him."

"Shee-it. I’m the one who’s in charge here. Jis leave
’im. If he dies, he dies."

Melissa ran to Cramer and rubbed her hands over his bare
chest and along his waistline. "You're such a man, Tack. You did that to
defend my honor. I can do things for you, now. To show my appreciation."

Cramer’s gaze flickered to the ground. His whiskey bottle
lay on its side, empty. He shoved Melissa hard. "My likker! You spilt
it!"

She gasped. "No!"

"You goddam, clumsy slut! That was my last
bottle." He whipped out his gun and pointed it at her.

Melissa dropped to her knees, stark terror in her eyes.
"Please, Tack," she begged. "I'll make it up to you. Anything
you want, Tack, love..."

Cramer glanced at Gabe, still being held by Dawes, then
back to Melissa. His eyes narrowed as he slowly put the gun back in its
holster. "You go with Slim an' git me some a that good likker we stashed
down on the mountain. I think I'm gonna have a mighty big thirst real
soon."

Chapter 17

"Bring her where it's cooler, Dawes," Cramer
said. "Then you git. I cain handle her."

Dawes led Gabe to the canvas-topped frame. Cramer
stretched out under it, his arms behind his head like a pillow. "So why'd
you wanna find me, girl? I know you been askin' over three counties, but I
ain't never heard why."

Because you’re a cruel, murdering, thieving bastard,
she wanted to say.
And I’ll be happy to shoot your guts out.
She glanced
quickly at Jess, and then turned her attention to Cramer, knowing the only way
to save Jess would be to somehow, kill Cramer. For the moment, she gave him a
shy smile. "As I said, I heard about your reputation, and I was
impressed."

"No, girl. I ain't no fool. You ain’t the type to go
chasin’ after the pants of the likes of me."

She held down the bile that threatened. "I'm a woman,
aren't I? And I'm alone. I always heard you had a good set up, and you could
take care of your women."

His mouth curled in a sneer. "Then why’re you with
McLowry?"

"Why not? But obviously, he can't take care of me. If
he could, your men wouldn't have captured me so easily. I've no ties to him,
Tack."

He stroked the stubble on his beard. "I still don't
believe you, girl, much's I'm tempted. It's all too easy."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. There's no other reason
I can see I'd be looking for you. But if you don't believe me, there's not much
I can do about it."

His eyes raked over her slight frame. "Where you
from?"

"These parts."

He was on his feet like a shot. He twisted his fingers in
her hair and dragged her in a half-circle. She fell to her knees. "When I
ask a question I 'spect an answer! None a this smart mouth, hear?"

Her eyes stung from the pain and she gripped his arm, trying
to stop him from ripping her scalp. "I'm from Texas," she screeched.
"I traveled to Tombstone when I heard about the silver mines there. In
Tombstone, I heard about you."

"An' so you come lookin' fer me," he scoffed.

"God's truth."

He pushed her aside. "Lyin' woman. Yer all the same.
Goddam lying whores. Cain't trust a one a you." He picked up his whiskey
bottle, saw it was empty and threw it against a rock, the glass shattering.
Gabe lay still and prayed he'd forget about her.

Dawes stepped under the tarp and took a ladle of water
from a barrel.

Cramer looked sharply at him. "Ain't you got nothin'
better to do?"

"I was thirsty."

"That's no reason to be comin’ aroun’ botherin’
me!"

Dawes shrugged and drained the cup then filled it with
water again. Cramer snatched it away, his eyes squinting. "I
said
cain't you find somethin' else to do? Dammit! Cain't you tell I'm busy?"
He looked back at Gabe then, and his tongue slowly lolled along his bottom lip.
He glanced at Dawes. "I said to git the hell outta here. Now!"

Dawes's jaw tightened as he glanced from Cramer to Gabe.
Without a word, he walked away.

Cramer took a swallow of water. "Well..." He
wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes ogled Gabe. "Alone
at last. Jis' like you want."

She glanced at the table and the chuck wagon but the
cooking knives were too far to reach.

He stretched flat out on the ground, on his back, his arms
folded under his head. "Let's see how much you really want it. Come
here."

She didn't move.

"What're you waitin' fer?"

Slowly, she got up and edged to his side, then stopped,
chewing her bottom lip.

"Hell, woman! Don't you know nothin'?" He lifted
his shoulders and propped himself up on one elbow, then pointed to the ground
beside him and snapped his fingers. Realizing what he meant, she knelt.

He rolled so that he held himself propped up by both
elbows. Then glanced at his crotch. Then back at her. "I'm waitin'."

Her mouth was drier than the sharp gravel under her knees
as her shaking fingers reached for the top button on his trousers.

Cramer wriggled closer, a big grin on his face, as she
struggled with the buttons.

She unfastened the last one, then sat back on her heels.
"Well?" he said. "Don't you wanna see him? He’s real purtty.
Melissa says he's the purttiest one she's ever seen, and if anybody knows, it'd
be her."

Her stomach lurched.

"He's a mite quiet now, but you treat him right and
he'll jump up and git real friendly." His hand closed on the back of her
neck and pushed her head closer. She braced her hands hard against the ground,
struggling to hold herself back. "I said," his voice was like flint,
"take a look at him an’ treat him right!"

Cramer's finger’s tightened, his hold like a vice.

"What the hell are you doing?" Melissa
screeched. She barreled against Gabe, knocking her aside. "I see what
you're up to, you cheap little tramp! You keep away from my man!"

Gabe scrambled away as fast as she could. Lomax was
standing nearby, and moved closer to her, signaling that it would be a waste of
time to try to run too far.

Cramer jumped to his feet, one hand holding his pants up,
his face purple and his eyes bulging as he stood nose to nose with Melissa.
"Damn it, woman! Am I gonna have to shoot you to keep you from pawin'
after me all the time!"

Gabe could see the terror in Melissa's eyes at Cramer's
words, and realized Cramer just might mean exactly what he said.

Melissa grabbed his shirt. "You're mine, Tack Cramer,
and I ain't gonna let no scrawny, ugly little bitch come around here and mess
things up between us. I came back because I was worried about leaving you with
her so near."

Cramer grinned, his eyes overly bright. "That
so?"

Melissa pressed herself against him, her knee pushed
between his legs as her hand slipped inside his open fly.

Gabe shuddered at the sight, and turned her head. She
noticed Lomax shake his head and step away, a bored look on his face, as if
this was a little scene Melissa and Cramer liked to play, over and over.

"I want you, Tack." Melissa’s breathing grew
heavy as her hand worked furiously. "Now, right now."

Cramer bent toward Melissa's neck and she threw her head
back, moaning in ecstasy. Cramer lifted his head and looked over the camp.
"Lomax. Take care a the girl."

Lomax dragged Gabe to an ironwood tree, had her sit, then
pulled her arms back around the small trunk and tied them. He looped the rope
around her waist and chest and tied it tight, making sure she couldn't move at
all. She struggled against them, but couldn’t loosen them in the slightest.

"Get McLowry down, please," Gabe said to Lomax.
"He’ll die there."

Lomax's gaze was stony. "Better him than me."

Gabe watched McLowry through the long, hot afternoon. The
only blessing was that as the afternoon wore on, the sun angled against the
shed in a way that covered him with shade.

McLowry remained unconscious. At first Gabe was glad;
anything was better than the pain he would feel when he awakened. His back was
fiery, seeping blood. Even though he wasn't conscious, she could see the
muscles quiver in agony. As the afternoon waned, though, she grew increasingly
worried about his continuing unconsciousness.

She had to figure out a way for them to escape this place.
His being here, being hurt, was all her fault.

Images filled her mind. Jess at the dance--was it really just
last night? His surprise at being thanked by the townspeople for his help. As
they camped on the desert, the way he’d held her and kissed her. And today, his
stubborn determination to show no weakness as these men were beating him so
mercilessly.

They'd pay, she vowed. Every last one of them.

Soon, Melissa's harsh voice shattered Gabe's thoughts.
"You sat around long enough. It’s almost suppertime." Melissa and
Cramer approached.

"We got eggs," Melissa said, then smiled at
Cramer. "Thanks to me."

"Eggs?" He wrinkled his thin lips. "What do
you think I am? Some damn fox alus raidin' the hen house! I'm sick a eggs.
Reminds me a chicken guts."

Melissa glared at Gabe, clearly blaming Gabe for Cramer's
petulance.

"I want real meat!" Cramer raged.

"We can't kill more hens, Tack," Melissa whined.

"I don't want no birds either. An' no rabbit or
snake! I don't want nothin' that flies, hops or slithers."

Lefty strapped on his gun belt. "I'll get you
something, boss. I heard there's some new settlers on the west range. I'm sure
they'll be neighborly."

Cramer's eyes squinted. "You make sure! Red, Slim, go
with him."

Red jumped to his feet.

"I got me a hankerin' fer pig meat, boys. You git me
one and that girl can cook it up." He gave Gabe a murderous glance.
"But you better not wreck it, hear?"

Gabe nodded. She watched Lefty, Red and Slim ride off,
praying their journey would be a long one. Now only three men, Cramer, Lomax,
and Dawes, plus Melissa, were left here.

"Hell, Melissa, I'm hungry now," Cramer bawled.

"We'll feed you right quick, Tack." Melissa
hurried to remove Gabe's bindings, then led her past the shack to the cooking
area. A cookstove sat out in the sun. On it was a large kettle. Two iron
skillets, one large and another hardly big enough to fry one egg, were stacked
on one side, and on the other stood a square wood block work table. Atop it lay
a cleaver and several wide-blade knives.

Nearby, a water hole broke the surface of the canyon
floor, with a cottonwood tree near its edge. Under the tree stood a warped
table and benches. Onions and greens were stacked on the table.

Lomax strutted toward the women carrying two of Melissa's
hens by the feet. Their heads had been removed, and blood trailed onto the
ground as he walked.

Melissa told Gabe she was expected to cook them a dinner
of chicken stew. "But it better be good. You wouldn't want to disappoint
Tack." Then Melissa plopped herself on a blanket, her back against the
cottonwood’s trunk, and watched as Gabe removed the birds’ feathers to begin
the cooking process.

An hour later Cramer came by to see what was happening.
Gabe stood at the wood block, hacking the birds apart with the cleaver.
Perspiration dripped from her face; her dress was tattered and dirty and ringed
with sweat along her back and neckline. Cramer took a look at the sharp blade
in her hand and backed away.

"Hi there, honey," Melissa purred. "I sure
do appreciate your gift," she said with a nod toward Gabe. Sitting up now,
Melissa fanned herself with a tin plate then dabbed her fingers into the cup of
water at her side and stroked them over her chest, slipping her hand in the
crevice between her full breasts. "I feel so cool here, so relaxed."

"That so?" Cramer walked over to her, squatted
on his haunches then slid his hand down to where hers had been moments before.

Gabe gawked as the man openly fondled Melissa's breasts
and saw her writhe as if she were enjoying it. When Cramer pulled down the
front of Melissa's dress and bent his head to her breasts Gabe nearly dropped
the chicken onto the ground.

But then she remembered how she had felt when Jess kissed
her, how it seemed that every part of her ached to be touched by him. If he had
touched her breasts, or lowered his mouth...

She shut her eyes, rocking with agony over what they’d done
to him. Please, Jess. Don’t let Cramer take you, too, away from me. Please be
strong...

When she looked up again, Cramer and Melissa had gone.
Lomax sat nearby, his dark eyes staring at the shack.

Ignoring him, she hacked at the chickens, imagining it was
Cramer on the block of wood instead of the skinny, dead birds.

A black kettle filled with chickens, greens, onions and
water was boiling furiously when Cramer showed up again. He looked at Lomax and
angled his head back toward the shack. "She plumb wore me out." He
put a cigar between his teeth.

"I could use a little of her myself," Lomax
said.

"Go ahead." Cramer flicked his thumb over his
shoulder. "She's still inside, an' ready--like always."

Lomax unhitched his trousers as he walked toward the
shack. It was Cramer’s turn to stretch out under the cottonwood. He opened a
new bottle of whiskey and took a long swallow.