Forty Mile River Page 8

  He squeezed until the man went limp, then dragged him into the dark behind a tent and set him down on the ground. He only hoped this little detour hadn’t caused him to miss Ike Daly.

  Ike Daly pulled up his pants and said to the girl, “That was great, Christy. I’ll be back again tomorrow night.”

  “You’re always welcome, Ike,” she said, “as long as you bring some more of that gold dust.”

  Ike left, and Christy deposited his dust into a bag with the batch she got from all the other men. She wasn’t doing any of the panning or the digging, but she was still working hard on her knees—and back—for her gold.

  Ike left Christy’s tent and headed in the direction of the saloon. Before he could get away from the rows of whores’ tents, he was grabbed from behind and a knife punched him in the back. He jerked like he’d been electrocuted, and then went limp. He was dragged into the dark, his pockets rifled, and the remains of the gold he had in his poke was removed. It might have been more profitable to grab Ike—or any man—before they went into the tents, but they were a lot more relaxed and careless when they came out.

  Ike’s body was left behind the tents, where the cold would keep it until someone stumbled over it.

  TWENTY-NINE

  It was getting late and Clint wondered where Ike was. He knew his friend was pretty quick when he went to visit the girls. He usually spent more time over a cold beer.

  He looked around, saw Hector with a chubby blond girl pressed up against him. The man’s face looked panicked. The girl had been cuddling up to him ever since Lori pulled her aside and spoke to her. Hector looked like he wanted to bolt and run, but he didn’t. Clint thought he knew why.

  He was waiting for Miller.

  Miller walked into the saloon through the back door. His empty mug was still where he’d left it. He picked it up and headed for the bar. Along the way he saw Hector with a girl scaring the hell out of him. Miller laughed, and kept walking until he got to the bar. He exchanged the empty mug for a full one.

  Hector had no use for the blond girl, and kept trying to tell her so, but she insisted on attaching herself to him. He figured it must have been the aura of power he gave off. He wished Bent Miller would return so he could get back to work. He didn’t see how men could spend all their time in an environment like this.

  Before rescuing Hector, Miller decided to talk to Clint Adams.

  Clint saw Miller coming toward him with a full mug of beer. The man was heading directly for him, obviously with something on his mind.

  “Buy you a beer?” Miller asked.

  “Working on my last one,” Clint said, raising his half-filled mug, “but thanks.”

  “Maybe tomorrow night, then.”

  “Sure.”

  Miller looked over at Hector.

  “That girl is scaring him to death,” he said. “You pay her to do it?”

  “I didn’t have to pay her,” Clint said. “We were just having some fun with your boss.”

  “Yeah, well, I better get him back to camp before he craps his pants.”

  “Might have to get a drink into him first.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s not a real hard drinker either,” Miller said. “Buy you that beer tomorrow night, Adams.”

  “Yeah, see you.”

  Bent Miller left Clint and walked over to Hector. Clint didn’t really see any reason for the conversation. He watched the two men carefully.

  When Hector saw Bent Miller coming toward him, he breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I’m sorry,” he said to the girl, “I have to go.”

  “You sure, honey?” she asked. “We were just gettin’ friendly.”

  “Yeah, sorry,” Hector said. “I’ve got a lot of work I need to do in the morning. Good night, ma’am.”

  The girl released her hold on his arm and smiled as the man almost ran toward his friend, who was shaking his head and laughing.

  As Hector reached Bent, he asked, “What took you so long?”

  “You sure you don’t wanna stay with your girlfriend?” Bent teased him.

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” Hector retorted, not getting the joke. “She just attached herself to me for some reason.”

  “Must be the power,” Bent commented.

  “That’s what I thought,” Hector said, still not getting the joke.

  “Yeah, right,” Bent said. “Come on, have another drink and then we’ll go.”

  “I don’t want a drink,” Hector said. “I want to get out of here. How did it go?”

  “Let’s get back to camp,” Bent said, “and then we’ve got something to talk about.”

  Bent gave his beer mug to a passing girl, and he and Hector left the saloon.

  Lori and her friend, Beth, came up to Clint.

  “Was that what you wanted?” Beth asked.

  “That was it,” Clint said.

  “I think I scared him pretty good.”

  “Let me give you something for your trouble,” Clint offered.

  “Money?” Beth asked. “I don’t want your money, honey. Maybe we can figure out another way for you to pay me, though.”

  “Oh, no,” Lori said, placing herself between Beth and Clint. “He’s mine tonight.”

  “You could share, Lori,” Beth said. “After all, we’re friends. What do you think, handsome?”

  Beth looked to be Lori’s age, a little on the plump size, which always worked for Clint in bed.

  “Well…” he said.

  “Maybe another night, Beth,” Lori said. “This is the first night for me and Clint, and I want him all to myself.”

  “Well, too bad,” she said to Clint, “but I’ll be available tomorrow night…or any night. Come and see me.”

  “Maybe I’ll do that,” Clint said.

  Lori latched on to his arm as Beth walked away and said, “And maybe you won’t.”

  THIRTY

  When Ike didn’t come back to the saloon, Clint assumed he had gone right back to the camp. Since he had already told him he wouldn’t be back at camp that night, Ike wouldn’t be worried about him either.

  Clint waited outside the saloon while it emptied out, and then Lori came out with Beth and another girl.

  “Are you ready?” she asked.

  “I’m ready to get warm,” he said.

  “Oh, you’ll get warm,” she said.

  “Are you sure you don’t need help warmin’ him up?” Beth asked.

  “I’m sure,” Lori said. “Good night, girls.”

  “Good night,” Beth said, and she and the other girl walked off.

  “My tent’s back here,” Lori said.

  She took his hand and led him around behind the saloon. There was a tent there, with no others around it.

  “Wouldn’t you feel safer with some of the other girls around you?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “We’d look like a bunch of whores livin’ in a row of tents. I like this better. Nobody around me.”

  “Aren’t you scared?”

  “I’ve got a gun in my tent,” she said, “and I know how to use it.”

  They got to the tent. She held the flap aside while he went in, then she entered and let it down. He stood still in the dark while she lit a lamp. He looked around. There was no cot, just a bed of blankets on the ground with a cold fire in front of it, and some stones.

  “You stay dry in here?” he asked, looking around.

  “Oh yeah,” she said. “It’s been rain tested, believe me.”

  It was large enough for the two of them, for her to stand and him to stoop slightly.

  “How do you stay warm?”

  “I build a small fire, and the fire heats the stones. It works pretty good.”

  She took off her jacket, then hunkered down and tossed some pieces of wood into the cold fire.

  “Got a match?” she asked. “I usually do it without one, but…”

  He took out a wooden lucifer and handed it to her. She flicked it and lit the fire. The wood burned and
he could immediately feel the heat.

  She looked up at him and smiled.

  “We’ll give the stones time to heat up,” she said, “and then we can get naked without freezing.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He crouched down next to her.

  “I’ll make some coffee,” she said.

  “Good.”

  Before she did that, though, she leaned over and kissed him. The kiss went on for a long time, but they kept their hands down. They both wanted this to go slow.

  “That was nice,” she said.

  “Yes, it was.”

  She reached into a shadowy corner and came out with a coffeepot.

  “There’s a stream behind us,” she said, handing him the pot. “Why don’t you get us some water for the coffee?”

  “Okay.”

  He stood up, went outside, and walked back to where he could hear the stream running. There was enough moonlight for him to see. He crouched by the stream, let the pot fill, then turned and walked back to the tent.

  Hector and Bent Miller got back to their camp. In Hector’s tent they started a fire and put on a pot of coffee. The tent was very large, with plenty of room for them, a cot, and a table. A lamp hung from the center, and there were two more off to the side.

  Bent Miller had his own tent, half this size, which was fine for him. But for now, they would stay in Hector’s tent to drink coffee and discuss the evening’s events.

  “Is it done?” Hector asked.

  “Well, let’s put it this way,” Bent said, “it got done. Ike Daly is dead.”

  “How’d you do it?”

  “That’s just it. I didn’t do it,” he said truthfully. “Somebody else did.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There was a guy sneaking around out there that I took care of. He was obviously waiting for some of the miners to finish with the whores. But while I was dealing with him, somebody else was killing Daly.”

  “But who?”

  “Who knows?” Bent asked. “There are lots of thieves in this camp. Any one of them coulda done it. All I know is that when I found him, he was lying on the ground, already dead.”

  “Okay,” Hector said, shrugging. “Daly’s dead, and that’s what counts.”

  “So what do we do now?” Bent asked.

  “Now,” Hector said, “we just wait. Coffee?” He held out the pot.

  “That’s okay,” Bent said. “I’m going back to my tent to get some sleep. See you in the morning.”

  “Okay,” Hector said. “Good night.”

  Bent left.

  Bent Miller went to his own tent, lit his lamp. He had a cot, and that was it. He also had room to build a small fire for heat. He had seen Stash and Rohm in the saloon, but he had let them be. He didn’t need his men for what he was going to do.

  He lit a lamp, sat on his cot, and lit a cigarette.

  Clint brought the pot of water back into the tent and Lori tossed some grounds into it.

  “More,” Clint said.

  “More?”

  “I like it strong.”

  “Okay,” she said, “more.”

  She tossed in another handful and put the pot on the fire, then they sat down on the ground with their shoulders touching to wait for it to be ready.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Clint and Lori drank their coffee, warming their insides while their outsides were also warming up. Before long it was warm enough for Clint to take off his jacket.

  “You always wear that gun?” she asked.

  “All the time.”

  “Why?”

  “To stay alive.”

  “Wait,” she said, “you told me your name was…Clint?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Clint…Adams?”

  “Smart girl.”

  “Jesus,” she said, “I didn’t realize you were…the Gunsmith.”

  “That’s okay,” Clint said. “I’m fine with that.”

  “But what are you doin’ all the way up here?” she asked.

  “What everyone else is doing,” he said, “looking for gold.”

  “You said that before, but you don’t seem the type.”

  “Well, like I’ve said a few times before, I’m doing it for my friend Ike.”

  “So how long will you stay?” she asked.

  “Not much longer.”

  “I’ve seen you in the saloon before. I guess I should have come up to you sooner.”

  “Yes, you should.”

  He leaned over and kissed her this time. Again, it went on for a while and did not include hands.

  “Whew,” she said, “it’s starting to get really warm in here, isn’t it?”

  “It sure is.”

  They put their cups down and began to unbutton each other’s shirts. Clint slid hers off, saw how pale her skin was. Her breasts were large and firm, the nipples brown and very long, distended either by passion or cold, or both.

  She slid his shirt off his shoulders, leaned forward, and kissed his chest. He, in turn, kissed her smooth shoulders, giving her chills that had nothing to do with the cold.

  “Are you gonna wear that gun the whole time?” she asked.

  He unstrapped the gun belt and laid it aside, but within reach.

  Bent Miller had a bottle of whiskey in his tent. He opened it and drank directly from it. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing in Alaska. Gold was never something he had a hankering for, but it was the lure of gold that brought him here, just like everyone else. Now he wanted to go home. It was too cold here. Too damn cold.

  But he was here, so he was going to do his job, and he was going to make some money. And make some money for his boys, Rohm and Stash.

  He stood up, wondered if he should go and find a woman, but he really didn’t need that kind of trouble either.

  He sat back down and drank.

  Hector Tailor doused his light and reclined down on his cot. Tomorrow was going to be a big day. Providing somebody found Ike Daly’s body.

  He needed a good night’s rest to deal with it all.

  Clint and Lori finished undressing each other. They rolled themselves up in her blanket bed, pressed tightly together, enjoying each other’s warmth. Clint usually enjoyed sex without covers, but he did have to make some concessions to being in a tent in Alaska.

  Lori reached between them to grasp his hard penis and stroke it. He slid one hand down between her legs and kissed her while he used one finger to probe her wet pussy. She moaned into his mouth and lifted her hips to meet the pressure of his hand. She reached her hand even lower to stroke and fondle his sensitive testicles. Finally, she couldn’t wait anymore. She grasped his cock more firmly and guided him to her. He touched her with the head of his penis and she spread her legs as much as she could within the confines of the blanket. He entered her and found her to be like an oven.

  She moaned again and lifted her hips to him. He slid his hands beneath her to cup her butt cheeks and pull her to him as he fucked her. His nostrils filled with the smell of her, and their bare flesh began to become dappled with perspiration. However, they couldn’t cast off the blankets, for the cold Alaska night air would probably have frozen their sweat in place.

  They continued to lunge at each other within their blanketed cocoon until she shuddered, and he erupted inside her…

  THIRTY-TWO

  When Clint got back to camp the next morning and didn’t find Ike there, he started to worry. He went out and found Dallas and Jud preparing to go down to the river to start the day’s work.

  “Have you seen Ike?”

  “Not this mornin’,” Dallas said.

  “I think he was with a whore last night,” Jud said. “Maybe he stayed with her.”

  “These whores don’t usually take in customers for the night,” Clint said, “but I’ll go and check. See you boys later.”

  Clint left camp.

  Bent Miller woke and came out of his tent, rubbing his face. Billy Rohm and Ed Sta
sh were standing by the fire, drinking coffee. Rohm poured a cup and handed it to Bent. As he looked around, he did not see Hector Tailor yet.

  “What did you boys get up to last night?” he asked.

  “Whores!” Stash said with a grin.

  “More than one!” Rohm said, also grinning.

  “Those girls are diseased,” Bent said.

  “Mebbe,” Stash said, “but what a way to die.”

  Bent looked around camp. Men were getting themselves together for the day’s work. Some would pan the river, but others were busy erecting the equipment that would help turn this into a proper mining operation.

  Finally, Hector came out of his tent. He walked over, but no one poured any coffee for him, so he poured his own.

  Stash and Rohm found something else to do. They did not like Hector, and chose not to deal with him. They only spoke and dealt with Bent Miller, whom they considered to be their boss.

  “Hearing anything about last night?” Hector asked.

  “No, but I just came out myself,” Bent said. “There’s been no time for him to be found yet.”

  “What do you think Adams will do when they do find him?”

  “No way of knowing,” Bent said. “If Daly’s the only reason he’s here, he might take the next boat out.”

  “That would suit me.” Hector drank some coffee. “Why don’t you see what you can find out today.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “I’ll be in my tent, working.”

  Those damn plans, Bent thought. Hector spent most of his time leaning over them.

  “I’m gonna get some breakfast in town, too,” Bent said. He tossed the remnants of his coffee into the flames, causing them to flare.

  “Suit yourself,” Hector said. “Just report to me later.”

  Bent didn’t like the idea of “reporting” to Hector, but he said, “Yeah, okay,” and left camp.

  Marshal Sean Casey asked Trooper Allan Craig, “Is that the town up ahead?”

  No structures were yet in sight, but there were several tendrils of smoke rising into the air.

  “That would be it,” Craig said.

  “How much of a town is it?” Casey asked.

  “Not much, I would guess,” Craig said. “Made up mostly of tents.”