cowboysdream (3 page)

She held one arm to her waist and the rifle barrel down, for the sake of politeness. She was totally disarmed by Bo's charm and Silk's boyishly good looks. Silk didn't talk much, but he seemed friendly.

           
"Joe wanted us to come and clear up some things, if it's all right with you."

           
Joe? How do they know Joe?

           
Silk turned away and stuffed his fingers slightly under his belt as if it hurt to hear what Bo was going to say.

           
"Don' beat 'round no bush--level with me if
ya
don't mind."

           
Maybe it was his soft tone that alarmed
Aila
, sort of a warning, but she feared he was going to tell her something she didn't want to hear...something really, really bad. So she braced and looked at him through a haze of unwanted confusion.
Damn Joe. Where are you?

           
"I need to get my words together first for I say anything. Is that okay?"

           
"Well, all right. We'll eat at five. But before nightfall I'd like to know."

* * * *

           
They ate supper at the table quietly and still hadn't told her the secret. After she finished washing dishes, she retired to the porch where Silk played the harmonica. In the distance the dog gave chase to a small varmint. She sat on the steps three or four feet away from the men.

           
Bo whittled on a stick then blew the shavings onto the ground, while their horses looked on from the corral.

Though they didn't confide in her right away,
Aila
appreciated and admired their unobtrusive demeanor.

           
"Do you mind if we make us a pallet in the barn?" asked the dark, handsome Bo, whose voice sliced into the solemnity of the evening.

Experiencing a strong, negative wave of suspicion,
Aila
peered up and away from Bo's dark penetrating gaze. She glanced at the barn, seeing, but not seeing its splintery boards, as she considered possible implications that may arise. Once she'd made a decision, she peered toward their way and said, "No, you go right ahead." She raised a finger and opened her mouth to speak again, stopped then finally the words came. "I think you were
gonna
tell me
somethin
' earlier...if you're afraid to say it, please...don't be. I'm ready, whatever it may be. I just want to know."

           
Bo glanced Silk's way, then looked down. Bo put his knife and wood down. Silk quit playing music.

           
Yes. The message will be news I dread to hear. Maybe it’s why I haven’t seen Joe for a long time, 'nigh over a year.
That moment she didn't know how, but she knew he'd died. She felt it. Her knees
liquified
; she weakened and strange ideas became clear and then fogged in her mind.
How can Joe do this to me? Damn his hide.

           
"Well, Ma'am...this
ain't
easy."

           
"Please...go ahead."

           
Bo cleared his throat nervously, it seemed. "Well Ma'am, we met your husband long before we boarded the Maria Q."

           
"And..."

           
"That's a ship
ya
know."

           
"Okay."

           
Bo made a simple hand gesture toward Silk. "Anyways,
Silk
, myself and Joe, we were friends. We'd been shanghaied and taken aboard a ship that'd been moored in
Frisco
Bay
. We'd all been given knock out drops in our drinks in a damned..."

"Bo..." said Silk shaking his head.

           
"...'
er
sorry for my
cussin
'. Well, this Captain. He was not a good man. Not a-tall. Anyway, he needed mates to work, so he resorted to
druggin
' and
shanghaiin
' men like us
outta
saloons. A real, real bad sort, the likes of which you never want to meet. The more I think of it, the more I think he paid the saloon owners off for
lettin
' him do it. Well anyway, me and Silk here happened to be there when the
Capn
' murdered Joe."

           
"
Ohhh
," grief stabbed at her like a sharp saber.

           
"Sorry Ma'am. We took it real hard too.
'Cause Joe was a friend.
We were together a lot before..." Bo swallowed hard. "...'fore Joe fought the Captain."

           
"Joe wasn't a man who'd stir up a fight just to be
doin
' it!"
Aila
said.

           
"How well I know. With words he fought the bastard. Joe didn't actually fist fight '
em
; though he wanted to then. I just know that Joe wanted to get back here with you. It seems he loved what he had here with you. He wanted you and this more 'n anything."

           
"Well, why didn't he stay?" Pools of unshed tears filled her eyes making them seem luminescent, her heart aching.

           
"He even told us how to get here.
Drew a map even.
Well, Joe got busted up bad inside several times by the
Cap'n
who beat '
em
mercilessly. He hated your husband. But
b'fore
he died, he told us all about you. How special you were.
Everything.
He knew he was
dyin
' and told us he wanted us to come and help you out so you could keep the ranch." Bo's voice broke up considerably. "Twice more this damned bear of a man beat Joe but kept it up until he died. The whole while it went on, a
matey
held a gun on your husband and Silk and me. Ma'am, the
Cap'n
took all the money he had saved for you and the ranch.
The no good bastard.
We were locked up and couldn't do a damned thing. For this we feel real bad."

           
Her brow rumpled as she let the information sink in, not wanting to believe them. They looked honest, talked in an honest tone and used honest expressions.

Bo stopped, let her experience the expected shock, grief and pain.

           
Aila
sank to the ground at Bo's feet, cursing and throwing dirt. Screaming with a fist to her mouth, she asked, "Why take Joe, God?
Why my husband?"

The men leaned and took each of her arms. They brought her to her feet and guided her to the house, while she wailed in aching grief.

           
Later, when she composed herself, Joe's story continued. "Your husband, the whole time he was aboard, fought with the Captain," said Bo as he took a swig of coffee at the table in the kitchen. "And it got plainer and plainer that the
Cap'n
hated him with a mean and wicked passion. It was all a matter of time, we thought. In the
beginnin
' we all knew the Captain would end up
killin
' him. So nights after everyone went to sleep '
cept
us, Joe talked privately to Silk and me. After awhile we knew all about you 'fore we ever met."

           
"Everything?" she asked trembling.

           
"All of it."

           
Silk looked away at the distant tree line. "Ma'am, he wanted us to come and see if you were okay and tell you, I guess. Actually, he wanted us to take care of you, but--" Silk's voice trailed off as he took off his hat. His
adam's
apple bobbed as he continued. "But Ma'am, that
Capn
' beat him so hard that he tore up his innards."

           
Later, numb,
Aila
looked out toward the sunset until the sun completely dipped below the dark tree line. Tears came and so did the heartache--weeks of it would come, she could tell.

           
Bo rose from the front porch before sunset and kicked the dirt. "Also, I need to tell you
somethin
' else. We got loose 'cause we mutinied." Bo's jaw line tightened before he continued. "Just to let you know, Ma'am, we--you got justice. That man's dead, I'm glad to say...we threw his body overboard and fed the sharks with him."

           
Nodding, she felt a little better because Joe could rest in peace, since his killer was dead.

           
"But before the Captain killed Joe, he asked me and Bo to come and help you out, if we ever came ashore. He gave us a map to this ranch, so we'd know how to get here."

           
"He was right..." started Bo.

           
Wandering, lost in her own thoughts, she swallowed hard, feeling a night of crying coming on. Something about Bo's partial statement brought her back to the here and now.
"About...what?"

           
"You're a fine woman, Ma'am. Least you seem to be. We're not here to cause you one bit of trouble. And we couldn't find Joe's money."

           
"All right.
I'm not worried about the money."

Chapter Three

           
Bo and Silk chatted as they helped her out by mending a fence in the morning sunshine near the house. Bo looked at his newly clean shaven, square-shouldered friend as he took off a broken bottom rail of the fence. "You think we ought to be
movin
' on from the Rocking C?" Bo asked as he threw the thin log aside.

           
"Hell, I don't know," Silk said as he shook his head and shrugged. He pulled a handkerchief from around his neck and wiped his tanned forehead. "Why?"

           
"I don't want to leave her way out here...you know...alone. We owe it
ta
Joe to look after her."

           
Silk nodded. "I
dunno
. I
s'pose
," said Silk as he dragged up a new rail and dropped it in the dust. "Hell, maybe she wants our asses out of here."

           
After Silk finished driving a nail, they looked over and eyed her as she carried wet clothes to the clothesline and hung them out in the sun to dry. Nearby the horses whinnied and overhead a hawk screeched, banked and soared, but neither of them noticed.

           
"I kind of like it here. This reminds me of the place in
Canada
I want to buy someday," said Silk as he looked around yard. "It's like home."

           
"I wouldn't mind
stayin
' on a while. I think she needs a couple of strong hands for a while...to get on her feet."

           
"Sounds okay.
I don't have any place to be
goin
' right now."

           
"Me either, amigo, if she happens to ask."

           
Bo peered over at the buxom blonde. The sight of her gentle curves made his dick go hard the minute she came into view. Squinting into the sun he watched as she raised a gray shirt to the line and pinned it so the wind wouldn't blow it away. Her long calico skirt flowed and ruffled like a flag in the hot wind that breezed in from a ridge of mountains that lay to the west. Bo yearned to have his way with her and had felt that way since he first laid eyes on her. He didn't remember ever bedding down a woman as beautiful as
Aila
. He'd bedded down a few
señoritas
down
Mexico
way--beauties whose skin was dark. They were soft and hot. He liked all women, he guessed. But this one was special; she was a hard-working, soft spoken, strong woman.

Silk cut into his thoughts. "Want some water?"

           
"Huh?" Bo blinked and looked at Silk.

           
"Water.
Want a drink?" he asked, holding up a canteen.

"Sure."

           
Joe knew what he had and asked Silk and Bo to take over his ranch and help out his woman. Bo remembered the nights they lay awake in the bowels of the Hannah Q. It was well known that the ship's Captain would kill Joe eventually; Joe merely protected his wife and property by requesting help from Silk and Bo--men he trusted.

           
"It's her that's on your mind, isn't it?" Silk took a few long swigs and handed the canteen to his partner.

           
"Thanks," Bo said as he lifted the canteen to his lips. He poured the cool water down his face and wet his shirt then handed it back to Silk. "Yeah, I don't know what it is about her, but I like what I see."

           
"She's really
somethin
'." Silk sniffed then said, "I get
hankerin's
at night for her. My cock gets bone hard. I get to
thinkin
' what it'd be like to push all of my nine inches into her. But it's more than that I like. She's strong and honest."

           
"I wonder what she'd do if both of us courted her?"

           
"Both?" Silk chuckled. "She'd probably take aim and shoot us."

           
Bo laughed and reached for his tool. Before he began hammering off the next rail up he said, "Probably so. But think about it...there's two of us and one of her."

* * * *

           
That night while
laying
in his bunk, hearing the drone of insects outside, Bo remembered Joe’s account of how hot-blooded and receptive
Aila
was in bed. His dick went hard so he reached under the covers and grasped its thickened length. Sometimes she liked it rough. Sometimes she liked Joe to kiss her pussy then fuck her in the ass. He probably shouldn't have told Bo and Silk all the intimate details of their bed life. But, he did. The harm had already been done. Bo wondered if it had been the truth. Up and down he moved his hand, creating glorious friction, causing blood to engorge his veined cock while Silk slept.

           
It’s a hardship to go without a woman in the wilderness. Using his hand to make himself come just could not satisfy him they way real fucking could do--especially with a woman like
Aila
. He imagined how good it'd feel if
Aila's
tight pussy replaced his hand.
Tight and juicy.

           
Silk probably felt the same way. Better yet, how would
Aila
like it if she had two cowboys in her bed?

           
Just as he was about to shoot his load, a silhouetted
Aila
stood in the doorway, stars and heat lightning flashed behind her. "Bo? Silk?"

           
"
Ahh
," said Bo.

           
"You all right?" she asked.

           
"I'm fine." Bo took notice and stopped moving; Silk awakened in the next bunk and sat up.

           
"Yeah?"

           
Her feminine voice cut into the silence. "Bo, if you boys want to stay and work, I can't promise any sort of wages 'til I get some money
comin
' in. I can offer food and a roof." She paused before she left then continued, "But sun up I need the south corral fence to be mended. I need a lot of other jobs done, too. There's no smoking of cigars or cigarettes in the house."

           
"Yes Ma'am. We'll be in to breakfast at sun up."