The Sapphire Gun (2 page)

“Are you joshing me?” Clint asked.

Johnny shook his head. “Not in the least, my friend.”

After filling up the last bit of space on his plate with a helping of beans, Clint led the other man away from the table. “Since I made the ride all the way out here, why don't you tell me about it?”

Johnny acquired a definite strut as he walked next to Clint. They came to a stop at a nearby fence post. The spot wasn't completely free of staggering partygoers, but it was empty enough for Clint to lean against the post and eat his food without the plate getting knocked from his hand.

Letting out the breath that had been puffing out his chest, Johnny said, “There's really not much to tell. You recall that shipping business I started?”

After swallowing the mouthful of food he'd been chewing, Clint said, “I remember the trouble you had in clearing that pass so you could get anything to move through your shipping business.”

“Just like I recall nearly getting killed if it wasn't for you stepping in. Did I mention how grateful I am that you stepped up when you did? Otherwise, I wouldn't have ever—”

“You mentioned it, Johnny,” Clint interrupted gently. “Several times.”

“Well, I wanted to be sure you knew how grateful I was.”

“Being invited to this party was all I needed. I haven't had this much food in front of me for a while.”

“And as much as I know you can put away more'n your share of food, this ain't the only way I intend on repaying your good deed,” Johnny insisted.

Clint tilted his head to one side and squinted as if he were studying the buck-toothed man under a magnifying glass. “What else have you got in store?”

Johnny looked from side to side at the people who were milling about. Even though he was the founder of the feast, nobody else seemed to care too much that Johnny was still there. “Just between you and me, Western Union is buying me out.”

“Really?”

Johnny nodded. “Since I was one of the only shippers in these parts who wasn't having trouble getting robbed or making their deliveries, word got around pretty damn quick. Before I knew it, I was doing better business than the post office.”

“That's quite a claim.”

“But it's one I can back up!” Leaning in, Johnny added, “Especially since I made it my business to be at least five cents cheaper than the post office at every turn.”

“I guess that all adds up,” Clint chuckled.

“Sure enough! The man from Western Union seemed pretty damned impressed with how I'd done. Seems they've got their fingers in delivering more than just telegrams and they're looking to set up shop around here. I just put a wire in my place . . . you know, to diver . . . uhh . . . differ . . .”

“Diversify?” Clint asked.

Johnny snapped his fingers again and pointed at him. “Diversify! That's it. But it was just talk. Well, the right person heard me talking and the next thing I knew, I was getting an offer from Western Union, themselves.”

“Are they going to expand your business or just get you out of the way?”

“To be honest,” Johnny said, “I don't give a damn if they want to break my place apart and sell it off for fire-wood. With what they're paying, I'll let 'em do whatever the hell they want.”

“And you're sure the offer is genuine?”

“They already moved in. I got half the money already,” Johnny said in a whisper that was almost too low for Clint to hear.

“Please tell me it's not stashed around here.”

“Hell no, it isn't. It's safe and sound in a bank where it belongs. I've got some investment plans that might just keep me going for a good, long time. If not, there'll be enough left over for me to start up another business.”

Clint used a rumpled napkin to wipe the gravy from his mouth. “That's great news.”

“Of course,” Johnny continued, “there's still the matter of getting the rest of the money to the bank.”

“Sounds like you've already done the job once.”

Wincing, Johnny said, “Yeah, but there were some people watching me a little too close. They even followed me a part of the ways back here. I was thinking, since you were heading back soon anyways, that you might ride along with me.”

“When were you heading out?”

“I get the second half of the payment the day after tomorrow, but I could leave whenever it suited you.”

“Are you expecting this to be as treacherous as clearing out that route from New Mexico?” Clint asked sternly.

“Not hardly! As far as I know, nobody even knows about what I'm hauling or how much money will be with me.” After saying that last part, Johnny winced as if he could take it back. At the very least, he wished he would have said it a little quieter.

Clint was thinking along those same lines, but saw that most of the folks at the party still seemed oblivious as to who Johnny even was. “Where's this bank of yours?” Clint asked.

“On the coast no more than a few days' ride from here.”

“You're a lucky man, Johnny.”

“Why's that?”

“I just happened to be headed in that direction anyway.”

For a few seconds, Johnny took the stern look on Clint's face seriously. Then, he cracked a smile and patted Clint on the shoulder. “You almost had me! I was worried you'd tell me to shove my offer where the sun don't shine.”

“Now, why would I do that? Especially when you're going to pay me so handsomely for the job.”

Johnny kept on laughing, but quickly stopped himself. “Oh, of course I was gonna pay you. I wouldn't ask you to go through all this trouble for free. What sort of wage were you thinking about?”

Having spotted a blonde dancing in a group not too far away, Clint kept his eyes on her as he handed his empty plate to Johnny. “I'm sure we'll work something out just like before.”

Johnny let out a breath and took the plate from him. “Yeah! Just like before! I'll even double that! What would you think of that?”

But Clint wasn't paying too much attention to what Johnny was saying. All he'd needed to do was walk halfway over to where the dancing was being done and the blonde walked the rest of the way to meet him. She smiled widely and held her arms open for Clint. When he stepped forward, Clint felt those arms wrap around him tightly and the blonde's body writhing against him.

“My name's Clint.”

“I'm Victoria. Who was that you were talking to?”

“I don't know,” Clint joked, “but he sure throws a hell of a party.”

The music rose to a frantic level, and the makeshift band played like they were putting on a show for the President. As if following Clint's lead, many more of the people there made their way to the dance, picked out a partner, and kicked up their heels. Two of these dancers were dressed slightly better than the others and slowly moved away from the band so they could hear each other speak.

One half of this couple was a tall man with well-groomed hair, a thin mustache, and skin that was the color of richly tanned leather. His features were sharp, and his eyes burned like two pieces of coal in their sockets. He held onto his partner as if she was the last woman on earth, and he looked directly into her eyes as their bodies moved together.

The woman had long, flowing hair that was dark with the occasional streak of gold. Her skin wasn't as dark as the man's, but was closer to the color of cinnamon. Her body was tight and trim, but still managed to fill out her dark skirt and white blouse nicely.

“You're looking at that man like you know him,” the woman said.

“That's because I do know him, Rosa,” he replied with a subtle Castilian accent.

“Does he know you?”

“Possibly. I doubt I should bother introducing myself, however. If anything, Mr. Adams would only know me by reputation.”

Allowing herself to be swept into a broad circle, Rosa leaned back and let her hair sway behind her. The man leading their dance moved like a bullfighter and made no effort to hide the fact that his dancing had come from classical training.

Even though his face never pointed away from Rosa's, the Spanish man's eyes darted to remain fixed upon Clint whenever possible. He watched as the blonde pressed herself against Clint, and then he turned away when Clint spun around to face his direction.

“Have you introduced yourself to our host?” he asked.

“You know I haven't, Franco.”

“Perhaps it is time.”

Snapping her head upright so she could stare him down as the music built to a climax, she said, “I am following your lead.”

Franco laughed at the banter, wrapped her up in one arm, and then snapped her outward like a whipping extension of his own hand. Rosa twirled while smiling and bouncing off one dancer after another. Within the chaos of the party, she didn't stand out too much, and a few other women twirled even faster as if to outdo her.

Once he saw Rosa separate from the larger group and make her way to Johnny, Franco selected another woman from the crowd and took her in his arms. She was a tall, skinny woman with hair that looked like burnt straw. Her face wasn't quite what someone would consider beautiful, but the smile that showed up there made her a lot more attractive.

“Hey!” the man who'd been dancing with the brown-haired woman shouted. “That's my wife!”

Keeping her eyes on Franco and her hands on the Spaniard's broad shoulders, she replied, “Shut up, Walter. I'll be back in a minute.”

As Franco danced, he kept his eyes and hands glued onto his new partner. Actually, his eyes left her every so often to check on Rosa's progress with Johnny. His hands, however, remained attached to her wriggling hips.

Midway through the next song, Rosa tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned to walk back toward the dancers. Franco spotted her immediately and launched himself into a flurry of skillfully moving feet and gyrating hips.

The brown-haired woman did her best to keep up, but mainly watched Franco appreciatively. Just as her husband had decided he'd had enough, she felt Franco pull her in and then spin her away as he'd done to Rosa not long ago. She bumped against her husband, who quickly moved her behind him.

Franco bowed slightly and touched his forehead in a friendly salute. “You are a very lucky man, señor.”

“Yeah,” the husband grunted. “I know I am.”

Between the Spaniard's warm smile and his willingness to step away, the husband didn't have much of a reason to complain. His wife was still worked up, so she quickly pulled him into a bad impression of Franco's dance steps.

Rosa wove through the crowd and slipped into Franco's arms. “He will be leaving soon,” she reported.

“Will Adams be going with him?”

“I don't think he's going alone.”

“I see,” Franco replied.

“Will you kill both of them?”

Franco held her close and rubbed his hips against hers. “I have not decided yet.”

The party didn't even break its stride when the sun went down. If anything, it picked up an even better stride after the last of the sun's rays had disappeared from the sky. The men who'd been playing instruments all day gave up their spots to another group who picked up various items from nearby and did their best to make music with them. Even though the music wasn't much more than a semi-rhythmic beating of pots, pans, buckets, and chair legs, the crowd was too drunk to notice.

Couples still danced. Drunks still kept drinking. The food disappeared from the tables as if devoured by a swarm of locusts. And more than a few of the people in attendance paired off to disappear to a place with a bit more privacy.

Clint and Victoria were two of those people. The privacy they found was in the back of Johnny's barn. Inside the drafty structure, most of the sounds from the party were blotted out. Replacing that noise were the sounds that came from a few horses and one cow that Johnny had locked up for the event.

Leading Victoria to an empty stall, Clint kicked open the short gate and backed inside.

“You sure there's nothing else in there?” she asked.

Clint kept backing up until his ankle bumped against a stack of hay. “I'm not certain, but there's one way to find out.” With that, he toppled onto the hay and pulled Victoria right along with him.

She let out a surprised squeal, but didn't struggle in the least. In fact, she twisted her body to make sure she landed directly on top of Clint. Both of them landed better than if they'd dropped onto a bed. There was more than enough hay on the floor to wrap around them while also cushioning them from the wooden boards beneath it all.

Victoria wore a plain blouse that laced up the front. Those laces had become plenty loose while she and Clint had made their way to the barn. Now she wasn't even able to keep her blouse shut as she twisted and settled on top of him. Clint's fingers slipped beneath the laces to pull them completely out of place.

Although she put a somewhat appalled expression on her face, Victoria only looked down to watch as Clint eased her shirt open. “Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were trying to take advantage of me.”

“You do know better,” Clint replied. “You know damn well I'm trying to get you out of these clothes.”

“I guess I do. You're doing a fine job of it, too. Here,” Victoria said, “let me help you a bit.”

Straightening up, she pulled open her blouse and let it fall off of her. She arched her back and used both hands to fix her hair, which was mostly a way to give Clint a good view of her full breasts. They bounced and swayed with the motions of her body. Her large pink nipples grew harder as Clint reached up to take hold of them.