Longarm 245: Longarm and the Vanishing Virgin (17 page)

Longarm peered down into the cellar and breathed in the musty smell of damp earth. It likely wouldn't be a very pleasant place to hide, and he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

“You see, the hayloft is right above here,” Beth pointed out. “It wouldn't take but a minute to climb up there and fork down enough hay to cover the door.”

Longarm nodded. “Likely you won't need to. I'll be riding on to Monahans tomorrow.”

She turned to him, clearly surprised. “Tomorrow? You're leaving tomorrow?”

“I gave some thought to riding out today, but I don't reckon I'm quite strong enough for that yet.”

“Oh. I suppose ... you have a job to do....”

“That's right.”

She shook her head. “I don't think it's a good idea. You lost too much blood, you're weak.”

“The way you've been feeding me, my strength is coming back fast.”

She didn't say anything to that, just turned and walked out of the barn. Longarm was afraid he had offended her some way and went after her.

“Miz Jellicoe? Beth?” He caught up to her and put a hand on her arm.

She jerked away from him. “Leave me alone!” she snapped.

Longarm reached out, took hold of her arm again, and turned her to face him. He saw tears sparkling in her eyes.

“Whatever I did to hurt you, Beth, I never meant to,” he said sincerely. “I reckon I probably owe you my life. If you hadn't found me and taken care of me—”

“I would have done the same thing for anybody,” she bit out. “You don't mean anything special to me, Mr. Long. I never saw you before yesterday, and I' Il likely never see you again after you ride away.”

Longarm said softly, “Are you trying to convince me, ma'am, or yourself?”

Her right hand came up and flashed toward his face. He caught her wrist before the slap could land. He was holding both of her arms now, and when he pulled her toward him, she didn't resist. Her head tipped back, her eyes closed, and her lips parted slightly as his mouth came down on hers.

This was crazy, he told himself as he kissed her. He was in no shape for romping with any woman, even a beautiful young widow lady like Beth Jellicoe. But as her hands pressed against his chest, her fingers worked with need and desire. Her tongue thrust boldly into his mouth. It had been a long time for her, much too long.

When they broke the kiss after a lengthy, sensuous moment, Beth whispered, “Mr. Long ...

“Custis,” he told her.

“Custis. I know I have no ... no right to ask, but ... come in the house with me.”

Longarm rested a hand under her jaw, gently stroking the length of it and on down to her neck. “I still have to ride on tomorrow,” he told her.

“I know. But ... tomorrow is a long time off....”

Not long enough, thought Longarm. However long this day was, it wouldn't be enough.

She led him to the house, holding his hand almost like a shy little girl. They went to the bedroom, and Beth began to undress. She tossed the broad-brimmed hat aside and then her fingers went to the buttons of her dress. She unfastened them quickly, no awkwardness or fumbling about her movements. She knew what she wanted, and she was determined to have it. The dress fell around her feet, followed a moment later by the shift she wore under it. She stepped out of the clothes, wearing only high-button shoes and stockings. Longarm's gaze traveled over her appreciatively, noting the full breasts crowned with large, dark brown nipples, the slightly rounded belly above the thick triangle of dark hair, the smooth-skinned curves of hips and thighs. She was every bit as beautiful as he had known she would be.

“Now you,” she whispered, tugging at the shirt that had once belonged to her husband.

She wanted to undress him, so Longarm obliged her. He was already erect, so that when she knelt in front of him to pull down his long underwear, his shaft sprang free and nearly hit her in the eye. Smiling, she caught hold of it and held it as she rubbed her cheek against the head. Her fingers were not quite long enough to completely encircle the thick pole of male flesh.

“Sit down,” she said. “I'll take your boots off.”

He had quite a compelling view as she turned her back to him and bent over to take first one boot off for him, then the other. The sight of her bottom, full and rounded, with the darker cleft that divided it, made him throb with anticipation.

When he was as naked as she was except for the bandages, she put her hands on his chest and pressed him down on the bed. “Let me do all the work,” she said. “You still need your rest.”

Longarm had serious doubts about how restful this was going to be, but he nodded his agreement.

She knelt between his legs and lowered her head. He thought she was going to take his shaft in her mouth, but instead she grasped it in her hand at the base and just sort of ... looked at it ... for a while. The expression on her face was that of someone gazing at something they had been missing for a long, long time, only to find it again unexpectedly. He hadn't known how maddening it could be for a woman to just study him that way. When Beth's tongue came out and licked over her lips, he almost shot off then and there.

She reached down and cupped his sac, rolling the male orbs back and forth. Then she slid her fingers up and around his shaft, tracing practically every inch of it. She closed both hands around him, obviously relishing the hot, thick feel of him. Then she leaned forward again, tongue protruding slightly between her lips, and began giving him tiny licks that were as light as a butterfly landing on a flower.

After only a couple of those, Longarm came like Old Faithful.

She must have felt his climax boiling up, because she opened her mouth wider and engulfed him just before his seed began to erupt. The muscles in her throat worked as she took what he gave her. She caught hold of his balls again and squeezed lightly, as if she wanted to make sure she was milking him dry. Longarm's hips came up off the bed as he jetted spurt after scalding spurt into her mouth.

He fell back after what seemed like an eternity. His chest rose and fell quickly as he tried to catch his breath. Beth still knelt between his legs with his shaft cradled in her mouth. Longarm should have been going soft right about now.

He realized he wasn't. He still wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

She gave his manhood a last lick and kiss, then slid up his body, being careful not to put any weight on his injured side. A broad smile was on her face as she straddled his hips, caught hold of his shaft, and lowered herself onto it. Her mouth opened and her eyes closed as he slid into her. Her bottom bumped against his thighs. He was in her all the way, had penetrated as deeply as he could go. Beth sighed as her hips began to pump back and forth.

“Let me know ... if I hurt you,” she whispered without opening her eyes.

“That ain't ... very likely,” gasped Longarm.

She truly did all the work. He lay there and enjoyed it as her body stroked his again and again. For a few minutes, he caressed her thighs, then lifted his hands to her breasts, cupping and squeezing the mounds of soft flesh. His thumbs strummed her nipples, which were hard and pebbled with need.

Longarm's first climax insured that he didn't come too soon this time. In fact, it felt as if they had been screwing for hours when he finally erupted again, just as Beth's own spasms were shaking her like a sapling in a stiff wind. Or one of those cyclones she had mentioned earlier, he thought. Their shared climax was so shattering, they might as well have been caught up in a twister.

Then, just as if they had indeed been snatched up off the earth by forces of nature, they came spiraling back down, only their landing was soft and hot and filled with whispered words and passionate kisses. Longarm held her close and thought how lucky he had been to emerge from the sand hills at just the right spot to run into her.

Lucky, of course, assuming she didn't love him to death before he got a chance to ride away from there....

It was hoofbeats and the clinking of spurs and saddle harness that woke Longarm.

He and Beth had both dozed off sometime during the afternoon, sated and exhausted by their lovemaking. Now, as warning sounds drifted in through the window, Longarm's eyes snapped open and his hand shot out to close around the butt of the Colt. Out of habit, he had left the cross-draw rig hanging on one of the bedposts, close at hand. As he snagged the gun, he rolled out of bed, landing lightly on the floor in a crouch.

Beth sat up sharply, disturbed by his sudden movements. “What—”

Longarm held his left index finger to his mouth and hissed softly at her. A moment later, a man's voice called, “Hello, the house?”

Longarm frowned. He didn't recognize the voice. It certainly wasn't the rasping growl of Heck Wallace, nor the drawl of Van Horn or the good-natured tones of Dutchy. In fact, Longarm was convinced it didn't belong to any of the outlaws, not even the taciturn Funderburk.

Who?
Longarm mouthed at Beth. She just shook her head, clearly as puzzled as he was.

“Anybody home?”

Beth swung her legs out of bed and reached for her dress. “Just a minute!” she called, ignoring Longarm's gestures instructing her to be quiet.

Well, that tore it, thought Longarm with a grimace. Whoever it was out there, now Beth would have to deal with them. There had been a chance that if no one responded, the visitors would just go away.

But not a very good chance, Longarm admitted to himself. Maybe Beth had done the right thing. For all he knew, the strangers could be lawmen, maybe even members of the posse that had tried to ambush the Wallace gang a couple of days earlier. Longarm's troubles might be over.

Then again ...

Hurriedly, he pulled his pants on. A man didn't feel quite so defenseless if he wasn't naked. Beth was buttoning up her dress as the man called again from out front. “Ma'am?”

“I'll be right there,” Beth replied, raising her voice so that he could hear her. She glanced at Longarm, and he motioned with the barrel of the Colt for her to go ahead.

She went out of the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her. Longarm pressed his eye to the crack and watched as she went to the door of the ranch house and opened it to step out onto the porch. She left that door wide open so that he could see what was happening. She was a fast thinker, Longarm had to give her that. With the late afternoon sun so bright outside, the visitors wouldn't be able to see very well into the house.

“Hello,” said Beth, her voice loud enough so that Longarm could hear her plainly. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”

Smart, thought Longarm. She had just warned him that there was more than one of them.

A man on horseback edged into Longarm's field of view. He reached up and tugged on the wide brim of his hat as he said, “Howdy, ma'am. Sorry to bother you. We just wanted to know if we could water our horses at your well.”

“Of course,” said Beth, sounding pleasant and hospitable. “Help yourself.”

“Much obliged.” The man swung his horse a little.

Longarm saw the butt of a Spencer carbine sticking up from a saddle boot.

He knew that hat too, he thought as his breath caught in his throat. This time he wasn't mistaken. This man was the one who had bushwhacked him up in New Mexico Territory. Longarm was sure of it. The fella wasn't wearing a duster now, but that was because it was too hot for one down here in West Texas.

So the would-be killer had trailed him from Ashcroft after all, Longarm mused. And he wasn't alone either. He had brought more gunmen with him. As the riders milled around, letting their horses drink from the well in front of the ranch house, Longarm caught glimpses of at least four different men. From the sound of their horses, there could have been even more.

Longarm could see Beth standing there on the porch, arms folded, watching coolly as the visitors watered their mounts. The leader, the fella with the Spencer, walked his horse back up to the porch again and said, “Thank you, ma'am.”

“You're welcome,” Beth returned.

“By the way, you wouldn't happen to have seen a stranger around here in the past day or two, would you?”

“No, I don't think so,” said Beth, answering with the quickness of confidence in her reply, but not too quickly.

“Big, broad-shouldered fellow with a longhorn mustache?”

“No, I told you I haven't seen any strangers. And I don't mix in other people's business either.”

“That's always a wise course to take. I just wanted to warn you about this man. He's a criminal, a cold-blooded murderer. We've been hunting him for a week now.”

“You're lawmen?” asked Beth.

“Bounty hunters.”

“Does this man you're looking for have a name?”

“He's calling himself Custis Long,” said the man with the Spencer. “But that's not his real name. He killed a U.S. deputy marshal up in Colorado and took the deputy's badge and identification papers. He's been passing himself off as Long ever since.”

Longarm tensed. That was a damned clever story, and he watched closely to see how Beth reacted to it.

“That's terrible,” she said without missing a beat. “I hope you find him.”

The man touched the brim of his hat again. “Oh, we will, I can promise you that. Thanks again for the water, ma'am, and you'd better keep an eye out for that killer.”

“I will,” Beth said.

A moment later, the men rode off. Beth stayed on the porch for a minute, watching them leave, then turned and came back into the house. “They're gone, Custis,” she said.