Chapter 23

The room started to fill up again tonight. The food and liquor flowed freely, and once more, the girls were kept busy in the private rooms. Emma was smiling every time she stopped by with a refill for my coffee. By contrast, I was nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs!

I circulated throughout the house peering out windows, then walked the grounds. Gaby and Jaci would join me as they worked the room, keeping me company when I did my sentry turn at the table.

Gaby expertly rolled me a cigarette, lighting it tucking it between my lips just before she rejoined the crowd clogging the barroom. A figure stepped out of the crowd, and introduced himself as Carl Leeuwenhoek, owner of the Deadwood Mercantile, Hardware, and Mining Supply. Carl said, "I understand you are looking for a bathtub. As it happens I have six first quality, cast iron, claw foot bathtubs from the Crane Ordway Company of Chicago."

I asked, "Six?"

Carl laughed, "One of Deadwood's erstwhile millionaires decided he must have bathtubs in his new mansion. Then he decided that he must have more bathtubs than Carnegie or Stanford. So he ordered six bathtubs in Chicago and paid outrageous prices for them to be brought to Cheyenne by train and then here by wagon. In the middle of his wild spending spree, with mansion unbuilt, his claim played out. A drinking binge took the last of his money. At the end of it, he stood in the middle of Main Street and blew his brains out."

I shrugged as Carl continued, "I have those six tubs cluttering my warehouse, with little prospect of selling any of them. I will be straightforward with you; even though the tubs are paid for, I expect to receive something, even if just for storage."

I shook my head. That was the oddest 'open' for negotiations I had ever had. I finally said, "I'll take all six, please. Deliver them here, and you'll be paid one hundred dollars in gold coin."

Carl quickly stuck out his hand, saying, "Deal. They'll be delivered tomorrow. Is that satisfactory?"

I nodded as we shook hands. Carl excused himself and returned to his table. I was back peering out the window, pondering the vagaries of lady luck. Looking around the room, I decided that it was even more crowded than the night before. It didn't seem possible, but there it was. As my father used to say: 'The joint was jumping!'

Movement outside caught my eye as four figures on the street came into view. I felt a vague disquiet. I don't know if it was their demeanor, posture, appearance or what. Something about these four bothered me. A lot!

I was on my feet heading for the front door. My right hand was already under my coat drawing the Burgess shotgun out of its holster. Throwing the door open left-handed I was on the stoop with the shotgun. Reaching with my left hand I hinged the action into battery as I took the steps in one jump ratcheting the shotguns pistol grip. My eyes were this entire time locked on the four figures in the road just outside the iron fence.

While I was moving they were too. The one with the red kerchief held up the glass bottle filled with kerosene that he had been concealing at his side. His companion lit the cloth wick stuck in the bottle's neck. Only my quick reaction coming outside made the difference. As the wick flared, red kerchief raised the bottle.

I yelled, "Hey!"

Startled he paused with the bottle chest high. I centered on his torso and fired. The bottle broke as the buckshot tore through it into his chest and stomach. As he fell the kerosene saturated his clothes and the lighted wick ignited them! In all likelihood he was dead before he burned.

Cycling the action I turned toward his companion who had lit the wick. He stood 'flat footed', startled at my sudden appearance, practically in their midst! I fired, hitting him high in the chest with buckshot -- a devastating shot at this range. He collapsed without a sound.

I was moving forward as I cycled the action. The last two decided to rabbit. They were already in motion, as I reached the open gate into the street. With the shotgun in my left hand, I jerked the bola 'egg' out with my right. I snapped it into a quick spin, throwing it at the runner on the right, the one wearing the checked shirt.

The bola opened wide with one of the weights catching him just outside and wrapping around his right ankle. The bola pivoted perfectly, with the other weights wrapping around his left leg. He wasn't even aware of the snare until he pitched forward on his face, with his legs hopelessly tangled.

His fellow runner stopped at his falling. When he turned back to look at me, I shot. He went over backward, splashing in a muddy wheel rut, and didn't even quiver when he fell.

The checked shirt of my bola-wrapped prey was muddy as he tried to push himself up. I kicked him in the side as I walked up. I shoved the shotgun muzzle against the back of his head, saying, "Don't fucking move, cocksucker. Give me an excuse, and I blow your head apart."

Checked shirt froze. I grabbed his gun out of its holster, shoving it in my belt. I said, "Put your hands behind your head."

As he complied, I looked up to see Krista running toward us, closely followed by Gaby, Hannah, and Mei. I pulled his hands to the middle of his back as I tied his wrists together, using one of the leather tiedown straps from my holster. I took a moment to unwrap my bola, dropping it back in my pocket.

Grabbing his hair, I dragged him to a deep mud puddle. I pushed his face into the water until his ears submerged. He was thrashing around.

I jerked his head up, listening to him gasping as he tried to inhale. I loudly said, "Tell me where you came from, or I'll fucking drown you in this muddy shitty water."

I slammed his face down again. Pulling up on his hair. I asked again, "Ready to tell me? Do you want to drown? Your choice."

Once more pushing his head down. This time I held it for a while. When he came up his mouth was coated with mud he'd swallowed trying to breathe. I didn't even have to ask as he gasped in the midst of puking his guts out, "The Gold Strike. We planned this at the Gold Strike."

I stood up. He was on his stomach. I kicked his ankle apart then stepping up slightly I kicked him in the balls with my pointy-toed boot. Had it been a football -- it would have traveled at least forty yards in the air with the contact I made. Checked shirt screamed as he writhed, rolling around in the mud.

Krista was standing silently. I quietly said, "K, need horse and lariat."

Krista was moving instantly, yelling for help with the stable. I looked around, to find that I had company in the muddy street. Gaby, still dressed in her negligee, was standing barefoot in the mud, holding my Yellow Boy Winchester, watching my back. Hannah stood next to her, holding the Burgess shotgun from behind the bar. Mei was standing in the gate, with a Colt Twelve Gauge Coach shotgun, covering the crowd from the whorehouse.

Krista came running from the barn, leading her Duke and Dan's Red. She tossed me the end of Duke's lead. Krista shook out the lariat. I pointed. "Around his ankles, please."

K had the loop tight around his ankles. He started whining, pleading, and asking what we were going to do. Krista was giving me the rope. Caitlin drove the buckboard out of the drive, stopping next to us. Caitlin handed K my skimmer. K placed it on my head with a kiss and a whispered 'be careful'.

I stepped up on Duke, taking a dally around the saddle horn with the lariat. I still had my shotgun clutched in my right hand. I leaned over and spoke right into Duke's ear. "Dukie, I feel a need for speed. Let's rock."

I tightened up like I was about to ride for that eight second horn, grabbed at the saddle horn and kicked him with as loud a yell as I could muster.

Duke exploded as if launched from a fucking catapult. When his hooves finally touched back down, we were far down the road, moving at an attacking gallop. Behind us our rope-towed captive was screaming when face up and sucking mud when face down. He was bouncing hard on the muddy ground when Duke swerved. We rounded the corner to Main Street with the 'checked shirt' in the air. I pulled his pistol out of my belt and fired in the air. Duke found another gear! He was throwing mud yards in all directions as he accelerated down the street. At the end of the saloons, I pulled up Duke into a skidding stop. We spun and headed back down the line again at speed. I was yelling and shooting, with our 'passenger' continuing his complaints. We made another spinning turn at that end and ran up the line again.

By now the crowds were gathering on the boardwalk in front of a considerable number of saloons. I dropped his now empty pistol in my coat pocket. I checked the entrance of the Gold Strike as we went by. Bat wing doors with a high arch! Perfect.

At the end we came back but slower. I doubt anybody noticed that when Duke went back past our attacker I shortened up.

At the entrance to the Gold Strike I stopped Duke, spun him and pointed him at the steps. I leaned forward, "Up the stairs and in the front door, Dukie. Be fucking careful. They don't like us much.'

I bumped him with my heels as I leaned into his neck. He charged up the steps and unhesitatingly shouldered the bat wings open, stepping into the open space in front of the bar. I leaned back in the saddle; raising my shotgun, I fired into the backboard of the bar, shattering the mirror, and smashing a pyramid of bottles.

I cycled the shotgun, and pointed it down at a table by the door yelling, "Get this cocksucker the fuck off my rope. Move your ass."

They had him free of the loop and rolled to the side. I stood up in the stirrups shouting:

"You are on notice. If anything BAD happens to Emma's I'm coming back. This is not a safe place for any of you fuckers if 'something' happens. If a tornado strikes Emma's I'm punishing everyone HERE. Like this..."

So saying I pointed my shotgun at the massive crystal chandelier in the center of the room. I fired into the core of it. It exploded, throwing bits of brass, crystal and glass shards in all directions. Men were cursing and women were screaming as they ducked for cover, throwing themselves under tables.

I backed Duke through the door. On the boardwalk he made a nimble turn facing the road and launched himself. We hit the ground collected, and I spun him back to the left, parallel to the Gold Strike. One round from my shotgun through the batwing doors the next blasted the window next to the doors.

We spun back, and started to trot for home. Krista, on Red was halfway down Main Street. She was standing in the stirrups, with one of her guns drawn. Caitlin had the buckboard at the corner. Hannah and Gaby were standing behind the seat, with their guns at ready. Mei Bao was sitting next to Caitlin, holding her sawed off twelve gauge.

I paused next to Krista, coiling the lariat. We cantered side by side to the corner where Caitlin waited. She spanked Francis with the lines, and he quickly trotted toward home, with K and I following.

The crowd in front of the whorehouse bounded the undertaker, with clots of onlookers watching him and an assistant collect the bodies. I slid off Duke next to him, as he was picking up our would-be arsonist fire bomber. The man in the red kerchief was charred to the waterline with a clear demarcation where the mud and water cooled the fire.

The undertaker smiled his pursed-lip little undertaker smile, as he said, "You're good for business."

He tipped his black top hat, climbing into his black wagon, to carry his cargo of bodies back to the casket shop.

Caitlin drove into the driveway, past Earl standing with a Winchester on his shoulder. A pair of kitchen girls ran out to collect Duke and Red, leading them back to the barn. I pointed at the rifle as I asked Earl, "Confused?"

Earl smirked as he spat toward the spot where the body of the man in the kerchief laid saying only, "Creek."

I looked over into Krista's confused look. I said, "Earl says he recognized the kerchief from the shootout at Old Woman Creek."

He smiled as she nodded in understanding. I continued, "So now the attacks have two purposes. Revenge for the failed robbery in addition to closing a business rival. Earl, this is not the best place to be. You sure about this?"

Earl again spat in the general direction of the Gold Strike as he emphatically said, "Fuck'em"

Krista grinned as she tried to spit, saying, "Yeah, fuck'em."

Emma came barreling out the front door, throwing herself into my arms. Her face was in my chest as she babbled incoherently, welcoming me home. I finally got her stopped, raising her face for a kiss. I said, "I have to clean up. I'll be inside right after."

I turned her gently facing the door, spanking her on the butt. She stopped at the door to give me a smoldering look over her shoulder. She giggled as she went back inside.

By this time, Caitlin was back to collect us, leading us to the back of the barn. We came around the corner to find Gaby, Mei and Hannah already out of their muddy clothes. They were standing in the grass, while Mei was rinsing the mud off them with the hammered copper basin and pitcher. Watching the water course down their naked bodies was stunning.

Caitlin had K and I out of our muddy clothes, stacking our weaponry in one of the cabinets next to the doorway. We joined the others on the soft grass. I was soaping Gaby and Hannah, while Mei and Krista soaped each other, then me. Caitlin joined us, naked. I pulled her into my arms, kissing her, while I made sure she was thoroughly soaped.

Mei began shuttling copper pitchers of warm water from the water tank, dumping them on us, rinsing off most of the soap. All this water gave me a sudden urge to pee. I told Krista who responded, telling me to go right there! With her holding my dick, plus the girls giggling and urging me, I pissed a strong stream, arcing far into the darkness.

By the time I was done, Mei was kneeling by my side. She looked up at me hotly, saying, "Next time don't waste it like that."

With that arousing thought echoing in my head, we walked together into the room with the big tank, stepping into the tank filed with hot water. We washed each other again. I enjoyed the feel of my soapy fingers in each of their manes, washing them until they were squeaky-clean!

It was my turn. I knelt in the water, surrounded, as they rubbed soap in my hair and on my body, scrubbing me with light caresses of their sudsy fingers. Someone was cleaning my cock and balls with thick lather, their two handed stroking making intense sensations on my sensitive nerve endings.

Gaby and Krista each fastened their lips on one of my nipples; as they began sucking, my cock jolted, spending into the air. When they straightened, I looked down to see Hannah's cum streaked face smiling up at me. Krista and Gaby settled me between them as they finished rinsing me. We watched Mei clean Hannah's face. She used her tongue to push cum into Hannah's mouth, as she was sucking the cum into her own mouth and swallowing. They shared an arousing kiss as we completed our ablutions.

We left the tank as Caitlin wrapped each of us in a thick cotton towel. Collecting our weapons, we walked to the house, clad only in our towels. We assembled in the small downstairs parlor, dressing in clean clothes, or in Gaby's case, another sheer negligee.

Refreshed, re-armed, and reloaded, we headed into the barroom. We entered to a loud round of applause and cheering. The heightened buzz as we entered seemed to be evidence that they were fully aware of what had happened on Main Street.

The first thing I noticed was the piano. I knew Emma had an upright piano in the corner of the barroom; this was the first time I saw it played. Two good looking women I had not seen before, dressed in matching blue and green frocks, were playing four handed and singing. From the rapt attention around them, it was clearly the 'hits of the day'. I had the urge to ask them, if they knew "Pour Some Sugar On Me" but I stifled it! Even so the music was rollicking, adding to the festive atmosphere.