The Gunsmith 406 Page 2

  “Aw, you always say that,” he complained, but continued to eat.

  They all ate for a few minutes in silence before Beth spoke again.

  “W-why would a man like you – why did you help us?” she asked.

  “I don’t like seeing people pushed around,” he said. “And I don’t like people like Restin, who think they’re entitled to treat people any way they want.”

  “He hasn’t always been like that,” Ben said. “We used to be …” he trailed off.

  “What?” Clint asked, urging him to go on. “You used to be what?”

  “Ben is under the impression that he and Vance Restin used to be friends.”

  “Is that right?” Clint looked at Ben.

  “It was a long time ago,” Ben said. “Before he got so …”

  “Rich?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “About eight years,” Ben said.

  “And he’s gotten worse ever since,” Beth said.

  “Beth—” Ben started.

  “You can’t defend him anymore, Ben!” she snapped. “Look at how he treated you today. Like a perfect stranger.”

  “Beth …” Ben said again, but she wasn’t listening.

  “How is the pot roast?” she asked, turning to look at Clint.

  “It’s great,” he said. “I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a long time. This is … wonderful.”

  “I told you!” Harry said, proudly.

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Take some more,” Beth said.

  “I think I will.”

  She passed him the platter with the meat on it, and there was no more talk of Vance Restin for the rest of the meal.

  Chapter Five

  While Beth cleared the table she told the men to go out front and wait for coffee. And she told Harry to go to his room and finish his homework.

  Outside Ben offered Clint a cigar, and he accepted. The only time he ever smoked was when someone offered him one.

  There were no chairs out there so they sat on the front step.

  “Beth doesn’t like Vance Restin very much, does she?” Clint asked.

  “Not many people do.”

  “But you do,” Clint said. “Or, you did.”

  “Once,” Ben said, “a long time ago.”

  “What happened?”

  Ben shrugged.

  “We were friends and partners, and then we weren’t,” Ben said. “Beth would tell you he cheated me.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I think Vance did what he thought he had to do to succeed,” Ben said.

  “And you don’t hold that against him?”

  Ben shrugged.

  “Who among us would not take that opportunity if it came?” Ben said.

  “I know a few people who wouldn’t turn on their friends for money,” Clint said.

  “Then you’re lucky,” Ben said. “I don’t know anybody like that.”

  “That’s what’s wrong with this town,” Beth said. She was carrying two cups of coffee and handed them each one. “Nobody cares to do the right thing.”

  “The town seems to be growing,” Clint said.

  “Oh yes,” she said, “we’re getting nice new buildings. What we need now are some new people. And we need to get rid of Vance Restin and his gunmen.”

  “Does he have any family?” Clint asked.

  “He has a wife and a daughter.”

  “What are they like?”

  “His wife is … nice,” Ben said.

  “Maybe,” Beth said, “but that daughter, she’s a spoiled rotten bitch.” She turned and went back inside.

  “Is she right?” Clint asked. “About the daughter, I mean.”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid so,” Ben said. “He wants to send her to California to be educated, but she doesn’t want to go.”

  “Exactly how old a kid are we talking about, here?” Clint asked.

  “No kid,” Ben said. “She’s probably … twenty.”

  “A lot of girls in the West are married by then,” Clint said, “with children.”

  “He doesn’t want that for her,” Ben said.

  “What does he want?”

  Ben shrugged. “Something better.”

  “Don’t you want that for Harry?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I guess the two of you have something in common.”

  “I guess so,” Ben said. “Beth would hate to hear that.”

  “She seems … angry,” Clint said.

  “She’s always angry at me,” Ben said. “She’d leave me, if she had any place to go. Not that I blame her.”

  “Why?” Clint asked. “Why don’t you blame her?”

  “I don’t think we’ve loved each other for a while now,” Ben said. “We’re probably just staying together because of Harry.”

  “That’s a shame,” Clint said. “I’d probably stay with a woman like that for her cooking.”

  Ben grinned and they clinked coffee cups.

  When Clint left, thanking Beth for the delicious dinner, she walked him outside.

  “Harry wanted to say goodbye,” she told him, “but I made him go to bed.”

  “That’s all right,” Clint said. “I’ll see him again before I leave.”

  She put her hand on his arm and said, “You’re leaving? When?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, “but soon.”

  “I hope I get to see you again before you leave town,” she said.

  He was uncomfortable with her hand on his arm, hoping that Ben wasn’t watching from a window.

  “I’m sure I’ll see all of you before I go,” Clint said.

  He started to walk away but she tightened her grip on his forearm.

  “I …I just want to thank You again for what you did for us,” she said. “It was clear that Ben wasn’t going to do anything.”

  “I’m sure Ben has his reasons for whatever he does.”

  “Or what he doesn’t do, you mean,” she said. “I don’t know if you noticed, but my husband isn’t the strongest man in the world.”

  “You never know how strong a man really is, Beth,” he said, moving away from her touch. “Thanks again for supper.”

  He hurried away before she could say anything else.

  Chapter Six

  Clint went directly to his hotel, where the desk clerk waved frantically at him as he walked through the lobby.

  “This message came in for you, Mr. Adams,” the man said.

  “Who brought it?” Clint asked, accepting the piece of paper.

  “Don’t know,” the man said, “just some fella. Looked like a ranch hand.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Clint took the message with him to his room and read it there. He was surprised to see that it was from Vance Restin. It was a note of apology and an invitation for Clint to come out to Restin’s ranch the next day. He refolded the message and set it aside, not sure what he was going to do.

  After his supper with the Ballard family, he wasn’t feeling too kindly toward Vance Restin, but he had to admit that he was curious about the man. Ben Ballard seemed to have a hard time disliking the man, despite the way he’d been treated.

  He had just removed his boots when there was a knock on the door. Removing his gun from the holster hanging on the bedpost he walked to the door.

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  “It’s me,” a woman’s voice said, “Beth. Beth Ballard?”

  Clint opened his door, keeping the gun behind his back.

  “Beth, what are you doing—”

  “Can I come in?”

  “I don’t kno—”

  “Before someone sees me?” She seemed very nervous.

  “Yes, all right,” he said, “come in.” She slid by him and he peered outside to check the hall before closing the door.

  “What’s going on, Beth?”

  “Y-you said you were leaving town soon.”

  “Pr
etty soon, yeah,” he said.

  “Well, that doesn’t give us much time, then.”

  “Time?” he asked. “Time for what?”

  “For this.”

  She reached behind her, undid her simple cotton dress and let it fall to the floor.

  “Beth—”

  “Please,” she said, “d-don’t humiliate me by rejecting me.” She lowered her eyes, then lifted them and looked into his. “Don’t you like me?”

  She had a lovely body, pale, slender, with breasts like ripe peaches. Her nipples were pink, with wide aureole, and she smelled like she was ready for anything but rejection.

  “Beth, of course I like you,” he said. “You’re lovely, but—”

  “Are you worried about Ben?”

  “I usually stay away from married women,” he said, “especially if I know the husband.”

  “You talked with my husband, Clint,” she said. “I know he told you about us. We don’t have a marriage anymore. We’re only staying together for Harry’s sake.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “I haven’t been touched by a man in months.”

  “Beth …”

  She took a few steps closer to him and dropped her hands.

  “When you came across that street to help us, my heart started to race,” she told him. “When you dumped Vance Restin into the street I could hardly breathe. The whole time you were having supper with my family I wanted to jump across the table at you.” She moved closer. “Don’t tell me a woman has never come to your room and offered herself to you.”

  “No, it’s not that,” he said. “Yes, it’s happened, but no—”

  “So do you think you’re gonna get out of this room without this happening?” she asked.

  It had happened to him before—many times, in fact. Women were attracted to a man with a gun. It happened. And except for the ones who really came to his room to kill him – or to help somebody kill him – no, he had not gotten out of the room without it happening.

  And to tell the truth, when there was a naked woman in his room, like this – a lovely, vibrant, naked woman who smelled the way Beth Ballard smelled now, he wanted it to happen.

  Actually, hours later he thought about the way Beth smelled in his room. Every woman had their own aroma when they were aroused. He’d never encountered one that wasn’t pleasant and didn’t arouse him, as well. Some were more arousing than others.

  The odor of Beth Ballard’s arousal was particularly strong. He wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that she hadn’t been excited – or quite this excited – in many months?

  At the moment, though, he gave himself up to the naked woman in his rom. Why not? There would be time enough later to think about everything else.

  He reached for her, grabbed her by the hips, drew her in and kissed her. She moaned into his mouth and melted against him.

  “Oh God,” she said, against his mouth …

  Chapter Seven

  Vance Restin looked up when his houseman brought another man into his office.

  “Mr. Peterson, sir,” the houseman said.

  “Thank you, Everett. You can go.”

  Everett, tall, grey-haired, remarkably fit for a man in his 60’s, backed out of the room and left.

  “Sit down, Peterson,” Restin said.

  Peterson sat. He wasn’t Restin’s foreman, but he was in charge of gunmen he hired.

  “Did the message get delivered?”

  “It did,” Peterson said, “right to the clerk at Adams’ hotel. Do you really think he’ll come?”

  “He stuck his nose where it didn’t belong today,” Restin said. “His curiosity will bring him here.”

  “And then?”

  “You and your men will be ready.”

  “We’re gonna kill him here?”

  “That’s not the plan,” Restin said, “but I want you to be ready.”

  Before he could go any further someone else entered the room.

  “Daddy!” Terry Restin said, peevishly. “How dare you—”

  “Terry!” he roared. “How many times have I told you not to come bursting into my office?”

  The pretty blonde put her hands on her hips and glared at her father.

  “You can’t scare me by yelling, Daddy. I don’t work for you, you know.”

  Restin sighed, looked at Petersen and said, “You can go. I’ll talk to you and your men tomorrow morning.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Peterson stood up and left.

  “Close the door,” Restin told his daughter.

  “There’s nobody else in the house!” she said.

  “Everett is here.”

  “And you think you have secrets from him?” she asked, but she closed the door.

  “Just sit down,” Restin said. “Tell me what’s on your mind … this time?”

  “You know what’s on my mind,” she said. “I’m not going to Sacramento.”

  “Yes, you are,” he said. “That’s where you’ll get the best education.”

  “I’m twenty years old, Daddy,” she said. “I should be getting married, not going to college.”

  “After you’ve graduated you can marry anybody you want,” he said. “Until then, any man who goes near you will have to deal with me.”

  She folded her arms and said, “I’m not going. You can’t make me.”

  “I not only can make you,” Restin said, “I’m going to have somebody take you.”

  “Who?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “One of your hired guns?”

  “I said you’ll see. Now why don’t you go and do something with your hair or your nails? I have work to do.”

  “Daddy,” she said, standing up, “you might send me there, or have somebody try to take me there, but I won’t stay there.”

  “You’ll stay,” Restin said, “or you’ll find your pockets empty, little girl.”

  “I’m not a little girl!”

  “You’re my little girl,” he said, “until you graduate from college. Now go!”

  She glared at him for a moment, then opened the door and stormed out, slamming it behind her.

  When Dave Peterson entered the bunkhouse his three partners looked up from their card game at one end of the room. At the other end the ranch hands ignored—or tried to ignore—Peterson and his gunnies. They did not approve of having to share their bunkhouse with the gunnies.

  “Wanna sit in?” Hank Spenser asked him.

  “Naw,” Peterson said, but he did sit down with them. “Just talked to the boss.”

  “And?” Ted Banks said.

  “He says Adams should be here tomorrow.”

  “We don’t wanna kill Adams here,” Stan Rhodes said. “Nobody’d see it. We wanna kill him in town.” The other men nodded their agreement.

  “We do what we get paid to do,” Peterson reminded them.

  “So we gotta kill him here?” Rhodes asked.

  “We’ll find out tomorrow,” Peterson said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “You sure you don’t wanna sit in here?” Spenser asked.

  Peterson looked at the table, saw that most of the pennies were in front of Spenser.

  “Yeah,” he said, “okay.” He stuck his hand in his pocket and came out with a handful of change. “Deal me in.”

  Chapter Eight

  Beth sat on the edge of the bed with her hands in her lap.

  “I want to watch you,” she said.

  “Watch me what?”

  “Undress,” she said. “I haven’t watched a man undress in a long time.

  “Well,” he said, “who am I to deprive you.”

  He unbuttoned his shirt, removed it, then undid his belt and pants, letting them drop to the floor, bunching around his ankles. He stepped out of them and kicked them away. Last, he slid his underwear down to his ankles and stepped out of them.

  “Oh, my,” she said, when he stood up. He didn’t have to look down to know that he was fully erect. The sight and sme
ll of her had done that to him, and kissing her had inflamed him, even more.

  “Come here,” she said.

  He stepped to her and stood in front of her. She ran her hands along the outside of his thighs, then the inside, and finally took his hard cock between her palms.

  “It’s so … pretty,” she said. “My husband’s is … well, ugly.” She took it in her fist, moved her hand up and down. “It’s so smooth. Ben’s is … veiny. And it’s … hot.”

  She leaned forward, pressed her cheek to his hot column of flesh.

  ”Oh yes,” she said, rubbing him against her cheek. “I want to feel you.”

  “You are,” he said, enjoying the sensation.

  “No,” she said, “in my mouth.”

  Before he could say anything she parted her lips and engulfed him. She slid him in and out of her mouth, enjoying the way his smooth, hot skin felt. As she continued he grew wetter and wetter, and started to move his hips in unison with the suction of her mouth.

  “Mmmm,” she moaned, sucking him more and more avidly. He reached down to take her breasts in his hands. Not only were they almost the size of ripe peaches, but they were as firm. His thumbs found the nipples hard, and flicked them, causing her to moan again.

  “All right,” he said, reaching down to grasp her beneath her arms, “up we go.”

  “Mmmmm, no,” she said, as his penis slid from her mouth.

  “Up on the bed,” Clint said. “How much time do we have?”

  She slid back on the bed and said, “A couple of hours.”

  “Where does your family think you are?”

  “Working on a dress in the back of the General Store,” she said. “I often do that.”

  “All right then,” he said, “there’s no real hurry, is there?”

  “I’m just … anxious.”

  He slid his hand over the flesh of her belly, felt it tremble.

  “I can tell,” he said.

  She caught her breath as he moved his hand down lower, between her legs. He stroked her inner thighs, then moved his hand directly to her crotch. Her pubic hair was also honey-colored, but darkened because it was moist from her wet vagina. He touched her with his middle finger, causing her to gasp, and then slid his finger into her hot steaminess.