Legend With a Six-gun (9781101601839), page 43
Brushing off a few flakes that a vagrant gust of wind tossed under his hat brim, Longarm wondered how it was out on the prairie, whether it had gotten bad enough to delay the market herds still on the way to the railhead. From the saloon gossip he’d picked up last night, the three biggest herds were still due. They were those from Clem Hawkins’s C Bar H, from Bill Tatum’s Double Z, and from the Evans family’s Panther Tail. So far, the herds had arrived at pretty well-spaced intervals, on the schedule the ranchers had worked out between themselves. They’d gotten to the shipping corrals from a half-day to a day apart, depending on the number of steers in each herd. The schedule had been planned to avoid the jam-up that would result if a new herd arrived before the last one had been loaded and shipped out, so there would always be empty corrals.
Longarm didn’t really mind the days he’d put in around the corrals, watching and occasionally swapping a few words with the hands. His evenings had been divided between the Cattleman’s and the Ace High, having a drink or two, sauntering with an idle look around the poker tables. That idle look had concealed his keen inspection of faces and mannerisms as he watched for the telltale signals that men with guilty consciences almost always give off.
At least he hadn’t minded the days until the snow had set in. Now about all he could think of was seeing the last of the steers chuted into the waiting cattle cars and getting back to town. The only thing that would warm him up was a long session in one of the big round wood-stave bathtubs in the room back of the barbershop, soaking out the cold in steaming hot water.
What I’d be smart to do, he thought, is to get out of here right now and make tracks to the barbershop before this Lazy Y bunch finishes and hits town. If I wait, there’ll be so many ahead of me that I won’t get warm before suppertime.
Since he couldn’t think of a reason to remain at the corrals any longer, he wheeled the roan about and headed toward Junction.
* * *
Relaxed and warm once more after his bath, Longarm crossed to the restaurant for an early supper. Ilioana Karsovana was sitting alone at a table against the wall. When she saw Longarm come in, she nodded, and when he acknowledged her greeting with a half-bow, she motioned for him to join her. He hung his hat on the row of pegs by the door and went to her table.
“Would you take pity on my solitude, Longarm, and join me?” Ilioana asked. “Gregor usually serves my meals in my room, but he is away on an errand, and I have to resign myself to eating here.” She indicated her half-empty plate. “A dreadful meal.”
“Well, it ain’t the best cooking in the world,” Longarm agreed, “but it keeps you going.” He signaled the waiter and nodded when the man looked his way. He’d eaten there so often since his arrival in Junction that he no longer needed to order his unvarying supper of steak and potatoes. He said to her, “It’s nice of you to ask me to sit with you. I wasn’t sure you’d offer me the time of day again, after I left you in such a rush the other evening.”
“It was not a nice thing for you to do,” she replied coyly. “At first I was angry, then I thought, you are conducting an important investigation, your duty must come first.”
“Glad you understood.”
“And since then,” Ilioana went on, “I have seen you hardly at all. Always, when we pass on the street, you seem to be in a hurry,”
“Well, I have been a little busy,” he admitted. Then, to change the subject, he said, “I’m sort of surprised you’re still in Junction.”
“I have dreaded beginning to travel again. It has been so very relaxing, my stay here. But it may end soon, I’m afraid.”
“Something to do with the errand you said your servant was off tending to?”
“Yes. A rumor, nothing more, that may lead to my brother. I had him go to learn if there was any substance in it. If there is, I will leave as soon as he returns.” The waiter brought Longarm’s food and she waited until he’d put the platter of steak on the table before saying, “But your work is so much more important than mine. I hope it is going well?”
“Oh, I’m reasonably satisfied. Things are beginning to shape up.”
To avoid being questioned about details, Longarm quickly took a bite of steak. He supposed Ilioana took the hint, for she sat quietly while he ate. Once or twice she started to say something, but changed her mind. When Longarm had finished eating and was sipping his second cup of coffee, she returned to her questioning.
“Do my countrymen’s crops prosper?”
“I guess they do,” he answered. “To tell you the truth, Ilioana, I ain’t had enough time to go out and visit the Brethren since the last time I saw you.”
“A visit which was much too short. I bought a bottle of your favorite whiskey to please you, and you had only one or two small drinks from it. Was it so bad, the whiskey?” she asked, pouting slightly.
“No, no, it was fine Maryland rye,” he answered hastily. “And I’m real sorry I didn’t have time to stay longer.”
She looked around at the small, plainly furnished restaurant and said thoughtfully, “Your country has much to learn from ours, my friend. I would have liked an aperitif before dining, and wine with dinner. Now I think a cordial would be nice. All those we would have in Europe, and perhaps music as well.”
“Oh, you’ll find cafés like that in big cities. They just ain’t up-to-date in little towns like Junction.”
“So I’ve found. But would not you like an after-dinner drink?”
“Sure, but I can step across to one of the saloons for one.”
“Which I cannot do. Another barbaric custom, to frown on women entering establishments where liquor is served. But if I cannot join you in a saloon, will you join me in my room for the after-dinner drink you have said you would enjoy?”
“Well . . .” Longarm felt trapped. He hadn’t seen the question coming from around the curve. He thought quickly. It was early in the evening for him to take his regular look around the saloon; the time for that would be later, in an hour or two. By seven or eight o’clock, both saloons would be a lot more crowded. And the rye Ilioana had served him the other day was a lot better than any he’d get at the Cattleman’s or the Ace High. He said, “Well now, I guess that’d be right pleasant.”
Snow was falling more thickly now, and Ilioana held on to his arm as they crossed the street. “Do you like the snow?” she asked.
“Not much. Reckon I’ve been out in it too many times when there wasn’t any shelter.”
“Ah, I love snow!” she sighed. “It wraps me up in a little private world, it makes me feel free.”
Going up the stairs at the hotel, she kept her hand resting on his arm, and when they reached the top of the stairway, she said, “Please allow me a few moments before you tap at my door. I would like to change into something more comfortable.”
Longarm figured her request meant she wanted to use her chamber pot. He said, “Sure. I’ll stop off in my room and drop off my hat and pick up some cigars.”
* * *
Ilioana had really meant what she’d said about changing, he discovered a few minutes later, when she opened her door in response to his knock. She’d put on a negligee of black chiffon, which, as she moved, billowed to conceal or clung to reveal the voluptuous curves of her body.
Tonight, the soft golden light of a single lamp, turned low, gave the room a different look, though the embellishments that had been added to it by the Russian woman hadn’t changed. The Oriental rug, the bed strewn with furs and satin pillows, the brocade-draped chairs, had a theatrical look. Longarm was reminded of stage settings he’d seen at Tabor’s Grand Opera House in Denver. He looked at Ilioana, her lips touched with rouge, her face carefully powdered, and thought it was a room that just suited her.
She went to the bureau, the filmy black fabric of her negligee pressing against the curves of her breasts and hips as she walked to the bureau and came back carrying the tray that held the vodka decanter, the bottle of rye, and glasses. She put them on the low table between the two chairs, and poured their drinks.
“Pei do dna!” she smiled, offering the toast Longarm remembered.
“Sure. Bottoms up!” he replied, tilting his glass. He put the glass on the tray and Ilioana leaned forward to refill it.
“Now you can tell me what you have been doing that has kept you so busy,” she said.
“There ain’t all that much to tell,” he said evasively. “Besides, like I told you in the restaurant, I’ve been doing other things that’ve kept me from going out to see how the Brethren are getting along.”
“I am concerned about them,” Ilioana said with a little worried frown. “If their wheat crop fails, and they have no money, they would be forced to return to Russia, would they not?”
“Now that’s something I don’t know. I never heard any talk about them wanting to go back there.”
“But it would be the best thing for them to do, don’t you agree, Longarm?” she pressed. “To go back to their homeland?”
“I guess you’d have to ask them that.”
Ilioana went on as though he hadn’t spoken. “Should they go home to Russia, they would need money. And friends in the government. I could see that they had both.”
“That’s a right kind thought, Ilioana, wanting to smooth their way back to Russia for them.” He suppressed a chuckle at the blatant transparency of her statement.
“It would be no trouble for me,” she said. “I am almost at the end of my search for my brother. Perhaps I would even go back home with them to be sure they reached their native villages.”
“Why don’t you go see Mordka Danilov, and tell him that?” Longarm suggested. “Seems to me he’d be the one to talk to.”
Ilioana shook her head. “No. The Brethren are peasants, and I am of the aristocracy. In Russia, peasants do not trust aristocrats.” She looked at him questioningly. “Would you do me a great favor?”
“Sure, if I can.”
“Be my messenger to my countrymen. Tell them of my interest in their well-being, convince them that I will help them.”
Longarm whistled softly. “That’s a pretty big order. What makes you think they’d listen to me?”
“They trust you. And so do I.” Ilioana stood up and came to his side. “It would make me very happy if you would do this for me. And I always respond to men who make me happy. I try to make them happy too.” She bent over Longarm and lifted his chin with a soft, warm hand. “Men say I have a great talent for pleasing them. You are a man I would enjoy pleasing, Longarm.”
Before Longarm could move, her lips were on his. The tip of her tongue traced his mouth from corner to corner before she thrust it insistently between his lips and he opened his mouth to let their tongues meet. Ilioana’s arm went across his neck to hold him in an embrace. Her free hand slid across his chest and reached his groin. Through the cloth of his trousers, Longarm felt her fingers exploring him. Her musky perfume filled his nostrils.
Longarm was not aroused at first. Ilioana’s headlong approach took him by surprise; he’d expected it to come much later. In a detached way, he lifted his hands to cup her breasts. The film of chiffon lent an unexpected feeling of sensuality to the warm globes that filled his hands. He stroked them with his callused fingers and felt her nipples grow hard under the caress. Her mouth twisted against his, and her tongue darted wildly around his mouth. Her fingers were busy with the buttons of his trousers. Her hand slipped inside the opening and he felt cool air touch him as she freed his erection. Her hand closed around it convulsively and the pressure brought him up full.
Ilioana gasped as her fingers fondled and measured. She twisted her head to break their kiss. “Ah!” she’ gasped. I will find it very enjoyable indeed to please you, Longarm. Chto rogovoey! Do not wait! Come into me quickly!
She raised the flowing skirt of her negligee, giving Longarm a glimpse of plump, tapering thighs as she straddled him on the chair. Longarm leaned back, stretched his legs straight, and let her lower her hips to engulf him in her hot, wet, quivering depth. He slid the negligee off her soft, smoothly rounded shoulders, and pulled it down to free her breasts. He buried his face between them, pulling their rosettes against his rough cheeks.
Ilioana began to rock. Longarm felt moisture spring out in the valley between her breasts as she writhed and swayed against him. He let go of her breasts and slid his hands down her sides, bunching the fabric of her negligee between their bodies as he grasped her bobbing hips and pulled himself deeper into her. In her excitement, Ilioana reverted to her native tongue.
“Da!” she sobbed. “Salsychete kobmna! Toroplovsti!”
Longarm judged that Ilioana was getting near the end of her ride as her head fell back and he felt her sides begin to quiver under his thumbs. He tried to help her by lifting his hips, but her weight pinned him down. Her breasts were heaving now as she struggled to push herself onto him yet farther, and the rocking of her hips speeded up. The muscles of her belly tightened as she writhed in a final effort. Her scarlet lips were drawn tautly over gleaming white teeth, her eyes turned upward. Her blond hair had fallen loose and streamed down her back. She shook convulsively and whimpered in small, sharp cries, torn from deep in her throat. Then she suddenly went limp. Her body lurched forward and she became a dead weight on Longarm’s chest, her head lolling on his shoulder.
He held her there until she began to stir. She sighed, lifted her arms, pushed her hands against his chest, and levered her body erect. Only then did she realize that she was still impaled, that he was still hard within her.
Surprise showed in her widened eyes. They were a darker green than he had seen them before. She asked, “You did not go with me?”
Longarm shook his head. “Not yet. Next time I will.”
Clumsily, Ilioana lifted herself free. She stood up, her breasts still upthrust, pink now instead of white, her puckered rosettes almost red. Her negligee was draped in folds around her waist; her hips kept it from sliding to the floor. She stared down at him and shook her head wonderingly. “I couldn’t wait. I thought only of myself and failed to please you.”
“You pleased me enough. Don’t worry about it.” Longarm stood up beside her. He removed his coat and draped it across the back of the chair. He turned his back to Ilioana as he took off his vest, and while his back was turned, he transferred his watch to the pocket in which his derringer nestled, attached to the watch chain. He wasn’t shy about many things, but he hated to expose his ace in the hole. Unbuckling his gunbelt, he went to the bed and hung the belt on the headboard. Turning, he saw Ilioana’s puzzled look. “Just in case that servant of yours gets back. He’s too nervous with a pistol for me to trust him.”
“Gregor is far away. He won’t trouble us.” Ilioana pulled the negligee up over her shoulders and came to Longarm. She began to unbutton his shirt. “Tonight, I am my own woman!”
He thought the remark odd, but let it pass, as he sat down on the bed and started to work his boots off. Ilioana added her tugging hands to his until both boots were off. He stood up, and Ilioana shook her head sadly. Longarm looked down. His erection had vanished while they’d been distracted by the boots. She looked at him, a question in her eyes.
“I told you not to worry,” he reminded her.
Longarm stripped off his longjohns and jeans in one quick, lithe move. Naked, he stepped up to Ilioana. She slid her negligee off her shoulders and let the flimsy chiffon slide to the floor. Almost before it had bared her breasts, she was in his arms again, her body pressing him back toward the bed. He turned her as they moved and fell on top of her. As though drawn by a magnet, her hand sought his crotch.
“So quickly?” she exclaimed, with delight in her voice.
Spreading her legs, she guided him into her. They lay across the bed, Longarm’s feet still on the floor. Ilioana’s heels dug into his back, locking him to her. He tried to thrust, but the strong grip of her legs held him motionless.
Ilioana felt his effort to move and whispered, “No. Not yet. Stay in me, so big, so long, so deep. Then I will pleasure you, indeed!”
“Whenever you’re ready,” he told her. “What pleasures you will do for me.”
Bit by bit, her legs relaxed. Longarm stroked, short and hard, and Ilioana laughed deep in her chest. “Oh, you are big,” she said. “Never before have I taken a man so big as you. Now let me go, but only for a moment, while I place myself.”
Longarm stepped back. He looked down as he withdrew, and his jaw dropped. Instead of the golden pubic hair he’d expected to see, bare skin met his eyes above the pink lips from which his dripping shaft was sliding.
Ilioana gave him no time to think about what he saw. She turned over on the bed, and brought up her legs to kneel in front of him. Longarm stepped up behind her. Before he could position himself to enter her again, Ilioana’s hand reached from beneath her body and took firm hold of his erection. He rubbed the shaft’s tip between her legs, but when he moved to go into her warm wetness, she held him off.
“No. Not there.” A tremble of excited anticipation was in her voice. “Above. As the Turks do.”
Belatedly, Longarm understood what she expected. He let her place him, and went into her slowly. She whimpered as she took him in, and pressed him back for a moment. Then her hand relaxed.
“More now,” she said hoarsely, her voice muffled. “More.”
Once or twice, while he penetrated ever more deeply into the tight orifice, Longarm heard her moan. It could have been a moan of pleasure or of pain, or of the two sensations intermingled. He put his hands on the soft, round cheeks of her buttocks and spread them wide, to plunge still deeper, and her moans increased.
“Nisvergal!” Ilioana groaned throatily. “Teper!”
She began to rotate her buttocks as she spoke, and Longarm got the meaning of her demand. He stroked, slowly at first, then, as he felt her tighten around him convulsively, the added friction that followed her squeezing kindled him to an excitement equal to Ilioana’s He started to pound furiously. His hands tightened their grip on the soft flesh they were grasping, flesh that was now rippling under his fingers in muscular contractions. He did not think of holding himself back when he came up to orgasm, but let go to the accompaniment of Ilioana’s frenzied animal cries.
