Slocum Giant 2013 : Slocum and the Silver City Harlot (9781101601860) (20 page)

“All fixed?” Marianne asked.

“Just like Joshua's, only I didn't have your good help then. He had to hang on to a tree himself while I pulled it back into place.”

“Jesus Christ,” came the choked exclamation.

She looked over her shoulder. Billy struggled to sit up. He stared at her.

“You're nekkid!”

“Damned near,” she said, grinning. Having the boy seeing her so disheveled hardly bothered her. She took more than a little pleasure in the way Slocum looked at her for the same reason now.

There was a big difference between boy and man. And Marianne intended to give Slocum his reward for saving the two from the mine. She seemed to be doing that a lot—and it suited her just fine.

“The good thing about Randolph having a broken leg,” Marianne Lomax said, “is that he's not likely to go running off with Billy on some crazy adventure.”

Slocum had to laugh. The boy sat on the front porch of the hotel, his leg splinted up and a crude crutch beside him on the board floor. The fracture hadn't been bad, and Slocum had done a good job setting it, or at least that's what Doc Fuller said. From what he had seen of the doctor, Slocum doubted Fuller would lie about a medical condition, even to placate a worried mother.

“You think having a busted leg will slow him down if he takes it into his head to listen to Billy?”

“That William McCarty can charm the rattles off a snake,” Marianne said.

“Might be why there are sidewinders,” Slocum said. He was pleased that this brought not only a smile to her lips but a genuine laugh. She had been too somber since they had returned to Silver City.

“I want to get out of here for a while, John,” she said unexpectedly.

“You want to move? Sheriff Whitehill would have something to say about that since we're both suspected of murder.”

“That's not what I meant. Besides, the sheriff is out of town now that his deputy got back from serving process.”

“Dan said he made close to five dollars evicting a rancher who hadn't paid his taxes.” Slocum tried to keep the bitterness from his voice but couldn't. That smacked too much of what had happened to him back in Georgia.

Back in Georgia. He looked at Marianne and saw her in profile. The strong chin, the fine bones, the intelligence and determination in her, all made him remember Georgia. They had been so young then. Time had added more than years to both of them.

He looked from her to the boy, leaning back in the chair and whispering furiously with Billy. What they talked about was something of a mystery. Boy things. Slocum looked back at Marianne. Just as he and Marianne had talked about boy and girl things. Back in Georgia.

“You need to take a break, too. Get away from town.”

Slocum blinked. He had been thinking about his past, something he seldom did.

“Jack and I used to go camping up in the hills just to be alone. I want to go there with you, John.” She saw his hesitation and misinterpreted his quick look at Randolph. “He'll be fine. As you said, he's not going to run far.”

“I suppose I ought to let Dangerous Dan know, or we'll have the law on our trail.”

“He's like Harvey. He'll know I wouldn't go anywhere without intending to come back as long as Randolph is here.” She paused, then said in a lower voice, “He knows that about you, too.”

“I'll talk to Dan. You rustle up some food.” Slocum stood and walked away, an uneasy feeling gnawing away at him. He tried to decide what caused it but couldn't. More than once on his way to the jailhouse, he stopped, looked around, but seeing nothing, continued on his way.

In the jail, Dan Tucker sat in the sheriff's chair, but unlike Whitehill, he wasn't poring over a newspaper. He rested his head on crossed arms and snored like he was sawing wood.

Slocum slammed the door and brought the deputy bolt upright, eyes wide. To his credit, he didn't reach for his six-shooter.

“What brings you by? You lookin' for a place to sleep?”

“You already took it,” Slocum said.

“Don't let Whitehill know. He gets all riled.”

“Where'd he go?”

“North. Maybe to Santa Fe. He didn't tell me. I asked around and that's the only way I found he was out of town. Just tole me to keep the peace.”

“Marianne and I'll be leaving town for a spell. Be back before sundown.”

“Storm's building up west of town. You go far, you might get caught.”

“Would that upset you much if we didn't get back until tomorrow, if the storm breaks?”

“I know you, Slocum. You're 'bout the most honorable man I ever met. You give me your word, and that's all I'll need.”

“Done,” Slocum said. “And look after the boy.”

“Done,” Tucker echoed. “I might toss him in the clink, just to be sure I know where he's at.”

“Don't let Marianne hear you say that. She's a wildcat when it comes to defending that boy.”

Tucker looked at Slocum hard, then said slowly, “You are, too. 'Spect you heard this before, but that boy is your spittin' image.”

Slocum laughed it off, shook hands with the deputy, and went to the stables to fetch his horse. Not for the first time, he wished he had money enough to buy some gear. If he was going to ride all over the New Mexico countryside with Marianne behind him, a saddle would make the travel easier. Might be the pony would prefer it, too.

He led the horse back to the hotel, where Marianne was speaking with Randolph. From the expression on the boy's face, he was trying to convince his mother he didn't want her to go and, when she did, would be on his crutch and hobbling into trouble the instant she was out of sight. When the cat's away, the mice will play. Billy stood at the end of the boardwalk, not quite rubbing his hands together in anticipation, but damned close.

“Ready?”

“All ready, John.” Marianne looked back quickly at her son, then jumped onto horseback, letting Slocum ride behind her this time. She clung to the picnic basket.

As they reached the outskirts of Silver City, Slocum said, “He'll be all right.”

“What? Oh, I wasn't thinking about Randolph at all,” she said. She looked back, twisted about, and gave him an awkward kiss. “
That's
what I was thinking on.”

“Only a kiss?” he teased.

“Oh, a bit more.”

“Such as?”

“Why, I was wondering if you knew how to pitch a tent.” She reached behind her and pressed her hand into his crotch. “Well, I have my answer. Can we ride a bit faster?”

“You won't say that when we get to your special campground.”

Her laughter rang true, giving Slocum more pleasure than he had experienced in a month of Sundays. Making Marianne happy sparked something in him, different from the way it had been between them in Georgia, but better.

Somehow, words after this weren't necessary. Slocum was lost in his own memories and thought Marianne was, too. She didn't have to give directions to her special campground. All she needed to do was lean this way or that, and once on the trail, they reached the spot quickly.

Slocum spotted a fire pit immediately and stopped beside it. His quick eyes took in the area. A tent had stood nearby, and from the crushed grass now recovering amid the undisturbed, it had been at least a month since anyone had stayed here. He looked around when Marianne lifted her leg high and slipped to the ground with a dull thump. She set down the picnic basket.

“There's the tent Jack brought up here. He said it was a mighty expensive one, though I could never see it.”

Slocum took the time to fasten his horse's reins so it could graze but not run off. He went to the pile of canvas and lifted. The tent had a hole or two in it. Most striking was the heavy support pole. He hefted it. His fingers circled it and barely touched. He guessed it was a good four feet long and two inches in diameter.

“Texas Jack didn't want the tent collapsing,” he said dryly. “This would hold up a full-sized circus tent.”

“Oh,” Marianne said, grinning from ear to ear, “that's not far wrong. We had a real three-ring show underneath more than once.”

Slocum dropped the pole and stepped over the tent.

“Why do we need a tent when we have the clear blue sky as our roof?”

“Because one of us will get a naked butt roasted in the sun,” Marianne said.

“There're trees all around. We don't have to stay in the middle of a meadow.”

“Should we have lunch first?” Marianne asked. “Or are you going to pitch your tent?”

She began unfastening the top buttons on her blouse, exposing milky skin. Another couple buttons allowed the swell of her breasts to show and entice him. He began responding.

“I don't mind eating first,” he said.

“The tent.
That
tent,” she said, pointing to the lump of canvas and wood. “We can decide what to do under it.”

Slocum gave in to the inevitable. It took him longer to put up the tent than he expected because of the thick pole. It had been poorly chosen. A sapling half its size would have worked better. A small breeze turned the minor chore into a job that would have had him cursing if Marianne hadn't been discarding a piece of her clothing with every advance he made on pitching the tent. The stakes went into the ground, ropes were pulled, and the huge pole steadied.

“It's roomy inside,” she said, pushing past him. She dropped a blanket Slocum had brought onto the ground, but he hardly noticed.

Marianne had shucked off all her clothes except for thin bloomers. The day was warm, and she sweat enough to plaster the cloth against her curves, outlining every turn and swell, every hollow and delightful terrain on her lower body begging to be explored. She turned, causing her breasts to jiggle about slightly.

“We're out of the sun,” she said, indicating the canvas above them.

“And I see where I want to be in,” he said, moving to her.

He reached down and pressed his palm into her crotch. Sweat had soaked her bloomers but a different sort of moisture dampened his hand here. She moaned softly and reached for him.

They kissed, pressed together, and slowly sank to lie side by side on the blanket. Slocum never noticed the tent above. Sky would have suited him as well because she was what he sought. He peeled the bloomers down, revealing the fragrant thatch between her legs. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at him.

“Go on, John. I'd like you to—oh!” Her legs spread wide as he pushed his head between willing thighs.

He lapped at her nether lips, then thrust his tongue out to wrest a new sob of joy from her. Sucking hard at the tender flaps, he lifted her off the ground. She shoved herself down into his face. He began moving his tongue in and out slowly, licking up the juices leaking from her insides.

Then he went blind and deaf. Her legs clamped down on either side of his head, holding him firmly in place. But he had no desire to go anywhere else. Not at the moment. He used his tongue as he might have his other organ until Marianne rocked from side to side, her desires pushed to the breaking point.

And then she cried out, arched her back, and finally sagged down. Her legs released him. She looked down at him, a small smile on her lips.

“You'll get cauliflower ears doing that.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Yeah, I am,” she said. “Because I want something bigger.”

He thrust his middle finger into her. She gasped, closed her eyes, and got her voice back.

“Bigger. I want bigger.”

“Greedy bitch,” he said. He added a second finger and began moving in and out. His hand was soon drenched in her slippery inner oils.

“S-Still not big enough. Or long enough.”

He stared at her. Her chest rose and fell as she sucked in short, quick breaths while her desires mounted. The tiny buttons atop her breasts had turned rock hard and pulsed visibly with every beat of her frenzied heart. He longed to pop them into his mouth, gnaw on them a little, suckle, then move on, but his own needs were intruding.

Reaching around, he grabbed a double handful of ass and used these sexy handles to pull himself up between her wantonly spread legs. She reached between them, captured his manhood, and tugged insistently.

“There, John, there!”

She guided him to the spot where his tongue had already explored. The wetness, the heat, his urgency, all conspired against him. He slid forward quickly, entering her fully. The fast thrust released another flood of sensation in the woman. She clung to him, her fingernails clawing at his back.

He began pistoning in and out until a lewd sucking sound filled the tent, almost drowning out the woman's joyous cries. He thrust into slick, hot, moist female silk that began squeezing down all around his hidden length. Pulling back, never hesitating before he launched into her anew, they quickly found the rhythm that excited them both the most.

As she cried out in a third release, Slocum lost control. He felt the heavy pumping and electric explosion in his body. He slammed forward and remained buried, riding her as she bucked about under him. All too soon, he began to melt in her inner heat.

“I . . . I'm glad I had you put up the tent,” she said in a husky voice.

“Why?” A warm afterglow filled him. They lay with their arms circling each other, sweaty bodies close.

“We'd've scared the birds. And the deer. And the mountain lions, and who knows, we might have even scared the earthworms with all our thumping around.”

“Were you scared?”

“I was satisfied,” she said, snuggling closer. She ran the instep of her foot up and down his leg.

Slocum laughed, but the thought flitted through his brain that it might have been scary for him. He had been with a passel of women, but never had it been quite like this.

“The last thing Jack said before we left here the last time was how rich we'd be because of this tent. That made me wonder. He was like you. Not all that poetic.”

“Rich?”

“We had each other. Of course, he had found that rich silver strike but never told me about it. I think he wanted to keep it a surprise. A wedding gift.”

Slocum's muzzy feeling evaporated as she talked about Texas Jack. He rolled over and stared up at the tent. Bright sunlight burned against the outer surface. A few tears let the light through atop bright spires of dancing dust. His mind disconnected from rational thought. Could the holes form a map? If he lined them all up with nighttime stars, could the tent be the map Bedrich had hidden, that Frank sought?

“You went away, John,” she said.

“No, I'm still here,” he said.