- Home
- Tabor Evans
Longarm and the Stagecoach Robbers Page 8
Longarm and the Stagecoach Robbers Read online
Page 8
The front door was unlocked. Longarm let himself in.
The interior of the building had the sweetly musty scents of fresh hay and the mixed grains that were needed by the myriad draft stock used to carry ore, tools, foodstuffs, and anything in between.
A very faint light showed in the loft overhead. The idiots were up there drinking, lounging on the hay, and burning something, a candle or a small lamp. Either one was a danger to life and property.
He could hear a low buzz of conversation above.
Longarm felt his way to the ladder leading up to the thin, yellow smear of light coming from the trapdoor into the loft.
The dry wood of the ladder creaked under his weight, but the two loafing in the loft with their bottle apparently heard nothing. Certainly they were unaware of his presence when Longarm climbed up and joined them.
“Who the hell are you?” one of them demanded.
The other, the larger of the pair, said, “I know who he is, Ronny. Son of a bitch is that deputy marshal from down Denver way. Up here somethin’ to do with the robberies.”
“Well, fuck you, Marshal,” Jabit said cheerfully. “Want a drink? Mind if I have one m’self?” He tipped the bottle up and drank from it. There was enough light to show that the two of them had already put a rather severe dent in the contents of their whiskey bottle.
“What d’you want up here, Marshal?” Willborne asked. He did not sound quite as drunk as his companion was.
Longarm was very pleased to see that, Pansy’s suspicions notwithstanding, both Jabit and Willborne were fully dressed and their flies were buttoned. He did not know what-all they liked to do up here when they were alone, but at least he had not interrupted anything.
“Yeah,” Jabit said. “What d’you want with us? We ain’t done nothing.”
“You bothered a friend of mine,” Longarm said, his voice mild and almost pleasant.
“We did?”
“Uh-huh. You fucked with Will Carver. Ganged up on him an’ beat him pretty bad,” Longarm said, his voice becoming even more cheerful as he looked forward to the task he had come up here to perform. “You shouldn’t ought to do something like that, boys. It pisses me off something awful. An’ you shouldn’t do that neither.”
“Now wait,” Willborne said, sitting upright and setting the whiskey bottle aside. “Wait just a minute there.”
Smiling broadly, Longarm stepped toward the two.
Chapter 40
“How is he?”
“Oh. Hello, Custis. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Is Will all right?” Longarm asked.
“He will be,” Charlise said. “I cleaned him up as best I could and put some salve on the cuts. I hope that’s all right. It’s the salve I use for the horses.”
“I’m sure it’s just fine,” Longarm said.
“Oh, look there. You’ve skinned your hands up something awful. What happened?”
Longarm shrugged. “Nothin’ important.”
“Well, let me see them.” Charlie took his hands in hers and examined them closely. “Let me put some of that salve on them. You don’t want them to get infected. Nor to stiffen up. Don’t forget, you need to drive in the morning. And Will won’t be in any condition to help you tomorrow. I can come out and help with the harnesses, but if there are any passengers, I’ll have to collect their fares. Same thing if there is freight for you to carry. I’ll have to check it in and collect the money for them. I’m afraid I won’t be much of a help for you.”
“That’s all right,” Longarm said. “Those horses an’ me get along just fine. We’ve got used to each other.”
“Mama. Mama?” Will’s voice was thin.
Charlie did not bother excusing herself. She turned and hurried back inside, leaving Longarm standing in the chilly night air.
He smiled, not at all offended that she had forgotten her intention to put salve on his badly skinned-up hands. Will came first in his mother’s concern, and that was as it should be.
Longarm turned and headed for the café close to the Pickens House so he could quell the rumbling in his empty stomach. Dinner was another thing that had slipped Charlie’s mind this evening.
Chapter 41
Longarm borrowed a fingerful of grease—probably pork, but that was unimportant—from the café and took it back to his room. He spread the grease heavily over the cuts on his hands, wincing as the salt contained there reached the open flesh. It stung like a son of a bitch, and his first inclination was to wash it off. He did not, and after a minute or so the stinging lessened to a bearable level.
He unloaded his .45 and spent another few minutes drawing, cocking, and aiming it. But not pulling the trigger as dry-firing could damage a revolver.
When he felt that his hands were limber and quick enough, he reloaded the Colt and hung his holster on the bed post. Then, and only then, did he feel he was ready to go to bed.
He slept well and woke early, ate a heavy breakfast at the same café, stopped into a nearby outhouse for a satisfying morning shit, then headed for the Carver office.
He went around back to the corrals, pulled out the team for the day’s run, and set about the work of harnessing and hitching them. He was perhaps halfway through the process when Charlise showed up and began to help.
She worked but did not speak, and when they were close to finishing, he asked, “Are you pissed off or somethin’? You’ve hardly spoke two words since you come out here this mornin’.”
“No, Custis, I’m not angry. I’m worried.”
“’Bout Will?” It was a silly question, he supposed, but he asked it anyway.
“Yes. And about the company. You can’t help us out forever. You will find those robbers and go back to Denver, or else you will simply give up and go home. Either way, we won’t be getting this free help very much longer. Now this mess with Will. What if he can’t drive again? Or doesn’t want to?”
Longarm hooked the team into the traces and leaned against the coach. He pulled out a cheroot—surely Charlie could not object to him smoking outdoors—and lit it.
“He wasn’t hurt that bad,” Longarm said.
“No, but last night he was talking about maybe we should just give up and close the line. Move down to Manitou or something. I think . . . there are practically no girls his own age up here. Not except for the girls at Maybelle’s and places like that. He visits those, but they are not the same as having a proper girl, a decent girl,” Charlie said.
Then she shook off her worries and in a crisp, no-nonsense voice said, “Three packages for Bailey today, two for Lake George, and three passengers, all going to Bailey.”
Longarm took the hint and made the climb up to the driving box. He took up the lines and clucked the team into motion.
His day was under way.
Chapter 42
Longarm rolled back into Fairplay with a flourish, the big horses at a run, knowing they were on their way to rest and a good bait of grain.
His hands hurt pretty bad, but that was only to be expected. It occurred to him as he was dismounting from the tall coach that his forearms no longer ached from the strain of driving. He was becoming accustomed to it now.
There was one passenger aboard so Longarm stopped in front of the office to let the man off.
“Thanks for travelin’ with us,” he said as politely as he knew how—that was the way employees were supposed to act, wasn’t it?—and touched the brim of his Stetson to the man. The passenger ignored Longarm, collected his bag from the trunk, and walked away.
Longarm had been prepared to help the surly son of a bitch with the bag, but if he wanted to act like that, the hell with him. Instead he sat on the seat—it badly needed a pillow or something to pad the pounding—and lit a cheroot, then drove around back and began breaking down the hitch.
“Will you come to supper?�
��
He looked up from the work. He had not noticed Charlise come out.
Longarm nodded. “Glad to. Mind if I stop by a store before supper, though? There’s some things I need t’ buy, cigars an’ soap an’ such, and the places might be shut by the time we get done.”
“I should hope so,” Charlie said with a smile. “I intend to work you hard tonight.”
Longarm grinned. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Now that’s the best news I’ve had all day.”
“Tough day?”
“Nothing in particular. How’s Will?”
“Sore,” she said.
“I’d be amazed if he wasn’t.”
“He will be taking supper with us.”
Longarm nodded. “O’ course he should. You’re his mother an’ he needs you.”
“You don’t mind?” she asked.
“Oh, hell, Charlie, I don’t mind. I’m not the one got my nose outa joint, you know.”
She brightened. “Good. Now go do your shopping.” She wrinkled her nose. “And wash up. You smell like horses and road dust. I’ll have supper on the table in an hour.”
“Sounds fine.” He walked around the coach, took the woman into his arms and kissed her, looked around to make sure no one was nearby, and groped the lady’s ass. “Until later,” he said.
Chapter 43
“Wonderful dinner,” Longarm said, pushing back from the table.
“I agree, Mama. It was great,” Will added. Then hesitantly, he said, “Can I ask you something, Marshal?”
“Of course,” Longarm said. He was a little surprised, though. Throughout the meal Will had been mostly silent. Longarm assumed that was because of his injuries. But perhaps not. Will sounded now like he had something very serious on his mind.
“I want to ask you . . . that is to say . . . Mama told me about your hands being all banged up. I see now that they are. And, well, I was wondering . . . would you happen to know anything about how Ron and Craig got torn all to pieces the other night?”
“They did, dear? You never mentioned that,” Charlie said.
Will looked at his mother. “Both of them. Ron has a broken jaw, maybe some other stuff, too. And Craig has his arms broken. Both of them. They’re in splints.” Will snickered and said, “With both arms in splints, he’s gonna have to ask for help if he wants to wipe himself. I mean . . . I shouldn’t say that in polite company, I guess. But it’s true. Anyway, Marshal, what would you know about that?”
“Me? Whyever would you ask me a thing like that?” Longarm laughed. And reached for his coffee cup.
“Look, I know as good as you do what happened,” Will said. “Well, sort of. I don’t know the details, and I’ll bet neither of them would admit to it. But I know what happened with them, and I want to thank you for standing up for me. Nobody but my mama has ever done that for me, not ever before, and I appreciate it.”
Longarm acted like he had not heard. “This is fine coffee, Charlie. Thanks.”
She looked from her son to Longarm then said, “If you want to light one of those stinking cigars of yours, I won’t make you take it outside.”
“I don’t mind smoking out front,” Longarm said, standing and picking up his coffee cup. “If you don’t mind, I’ll help myself to a refill and carry my cup out front before I light one of my, as you put it, stinking cigars.”
He stepped around to the other side of the table, leaned down, and gave Charlise a long, deep kiss. Then he winked at her and headed out front.
Behind him he heard Will’s chair slide back over the puncheon floor.
“I’ll take mine out there, too, Mama.”
Longarm smiled. Apparently all was right with the world.
Chapter 44
“Good night, sweetheart.” Charlie gave Will a hug and a kiss.
“G’night, Will,” Longarm said.
“Good night, sir. I’ll see you in the morning. I can help with the horses, I think.”
“You’re still a little wobbly on your feet,” Longarm said. “Let me take care of it for another day or two. Then we’ll see. Tomorrow morning, you just sleep in. Enjoy it while you can.”
Will gave Longarm a smile and his mother a kiss and another hug then set off for his own home.
Longarm turned to Charlise and said, “I could use some o’ that hugging an’ kissing if you got some t’ spare.”
She came into his arms. “I think I can manage that.”
Charlie was naked by the time they reached the bedroom, and Longarm was not far off that mark.
He kissed her thoroughly then began licking her nipples and lightly sucking them. Charlie moaned and began to writhe, her hips gyrating, her hands running through Longarm’s hair.
He moved lower, licking her belly, running his tongue through the mat of hair at her crotch and finding the now wet and slippery lips that guarded her tiny, engorged clit.
Charlie cried out aloud when he began to lick that. She clenched and trembled as she came and pushed him away. “Too powerful,” she said. “Now let me, dear.”
Longarm lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, concentrating on the feelings Charlie was giving him.
She began by running her tongue into his ear. Then down, across his neck and upper chest, to lick his nipples, the sensation running down into his belly like an electric shock. She licked him thoroughly then ran her tongue down over his belly.
Charlie carefully licked his cock, running her tongue up and down, peeling his foreskin back and circling the head of his prick with her tongue before taking his dick into her mouth.
She sucked him, then pushed deep into her mouth, deeper into her throat.
Longarm arched his back, took hold of Charlie’s ass, and squeezed.
“If you don’t . . . back off . . . I’ll . . . come in your mouth,” he panted.
Charlie did not back off.
He felt the gather and rush of his cum. Felt the explosion of sheer pleasure as his fluids built up deep in his balls and shot out through the length of his dick to burst forth inside Charlie’s throat.
She cupped his balls and continued to suck and to swallow until she was satisfied that she had gotten it all. Then, smiling, she sat up.
“That takes the edge off both of us,” she said. Then, laughing, she added, “Now we can get down to some serious fucking.”
Chapter 45
Longarm woke up early. Charlie lay on her side, her butt pressed warm against his side. He rolled to face her and slid his erection between her legs from behind.
She woke up slowly and began to press herself against him while Longarm slowly, gently stroked in and out.
Charlie came first, then he spewed his seed into her body.
“Nice,” she mumbled.
“Agreed,” he said.
She picked up the washcloth she had placed on the bedside stand and wiped the spent jism from him then pressed the cloth between her legs to catch any cum that seeped out of her pussy.
“Take your time,” she said, rising from the warmth of the bed. “I’ll start breakfast.”
Longarm got up, washed, and dressed. He could hear Charlie in the kitchen as she rekindled the fire in the stove and put coffee and a skillet on to heat.
By the time he went out back for a morning shit and washed up again, she had bacon sizzling in the skillet and coffee perking in the pot.
“Nice,” he said, kissing the back of her neck.
It occurred to him that this very pleasant, very domestic morning might lead Charlise Carver to think in terms of a permanent relationship. He hoped she did not. When this job was over, he would be heading back down to Denver and the United States Marshal’s Office. He hoped she understood that.
It probably would be a good idea for him to return to the Pickens House to sleep from
now on.
Will joined them for breakfast then went out back with Longarm to help put the cobs in harness for the day’s work. He seemed cheerful and pleasant and no longer resentful of Longarm’s relationship with his mother.
“Give me another couple days and I’ll be able to drive again,” he said, scratching the sensitive hollow beneath the near leader’s jaw. It was obvious from the way he handled the horses—and from the way they responded to him—that Will was fond of each of the big boys that pulled his coach.
“Whenever you feel up to it,” Longarm said. “No need for you t’ be in a hurry, though. I don’t mind the drivin’, especially since I got t’ be there anyway the next time those jaspers try an’ take the mail.”
Longarm drove around to the front of the building and loaded a number of small packages consigned to Bailey, one to Lake George, and one to Guffey as well. There were no passengers. He had to wait a few minutes, though, for Postmaster Jon Willoughby to show up with the day’s mail.
When he did come around, there were pouches for Bailey and Lake George, nothing for Guffey or Hartsel.
“Is that it?” he asked Charlie.
She was standing on the porch. Will was with her.
“That’s everything.”
Longarm popped the whip over the ears of the off leader, and the team surged into motion.
Chapter 46
In Bailey he swapped their pouch for a slim packet of letters going down to Denver. Those he would carry back to Fairplay, where they would be put on a train. There was also one letter going to a Colorado Springs address. That one would be left at Lake George to be picked up there and carried down Ute Pass to the flatlands below.
“Thanks, Tom,” Longarm told the Bailey postmaster.
“Mind if I ask a question?” Rickets said, standing at the side of the tall coach and looking up at Longarm.
“No, go ahead.” The coach was on schedule and the horses could use the breather before they started the run through the forest to Lake George.