El Paso
Chapter 18

Copyright© 2007 by Joe J

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 18 - Tyler McGuinn was a washed up rodeo bull rider when he boarded a plane in Phoenix one day in 1977. The next thing he knew, he was a no account cowboy on a cattle drive headed for El Paso in 1877. To make matters worse, he was the cowboy destined to die by the back door of Rosa's Cantina. Fate had dealt Ty an ugly hand...or maybe not. NOW AVAILABLE ON BOOKAPY!

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Romantic   BiSexual   Historical   Harem  

When I mentioned favors, Gordon eyed me suspiciously.

“There will be a reward for you, McGuinn, but I would hope you were motivated by civic duty to help me.”

I waved away his mention of a reward.

“I’m not after any money, Agent Gordon, I didn’t do much anyway. What I’d like is for you to visit the courthouse tomorrow morning, to look at Mister Toliver’s land transactions. If you think about it, he might have used some of the counterfeit money to pay for land and pocketed the railroad’s real money. If that’s so, we need to make it right for the sellers.”

Gordon’s ears perked up at that.

“Your idea could have merit, son! If he did do that, I can run him back in for a totally unrelated crime. What’s the second favor?”

“I would appreciate your recommendation for an appointment as a deputy US Marshal for West Texas. I plan to take the train to Santa Fe soon and apply to the New Mexico Marshal for a deputyship.”

The United States Marshal in Santa Fe had federal authority in New Mexico, the Arizona Territory and West Texas, a huge geographical area. The Marshal had the authority to hire new deputies as needed, and there was a Federal District Judge in Santa Fe to swear the deputies in. I thought that a federal presence in El Paso might help in heading off the Salt War. Being a Deputy U.S. Marshal was mostly a part time job that paid two dollars a day when you were out tracking a fugitive or riding on a posse. In Texas, that wasn’t called for that often, because the Texas Rangers filled the same function with a lot more manpower.

“What’s in something like that for a young man like you?” Gordon wanted to know.

It was a fair question, and one I could honestly answer.

“I’m trained in the law, Mister Gordon, and have an abiding love for it. As you said a few minutes ago, I feel a duty to help enforce it. I can’t go into it full time, but as I did with you, I’d like to help when I can.”

I guess my sincerity won Gordon over, because he said he’d have a letter for me the following day. He knew the Marshal in Santa Fe well enough, because of a case involving counterfeit twenty dollar gold pieces they had worked together a few years ago.

After dinner, I helped Molly with the dishes and we took a walk to watch the sun set across the desert. She was slightly scandalized that I put my arm around her shoulder and displayed affection to her out of doors, but with a little urging, she finally snuggled up against my side.

“You are a very romantic man to be so young, Tyler McGuinn,” she said.

I hugged her a little closer and kissed her forehead.

“My soul would have to be made of stone not to feel romantic with a woman like you, Molly Dean,” I answered.

I meant every word I told her, because I thought Molly Dean was a treasure. We stayed outside as the air cooled and a big hazy moon replaced the recently departed sun. When we went back to my room, we brought all that romance with us. We made some of the sweetest love imaginable until late into the night. Molly fell asleep on top of me, my flaccid dick still inside her.

Either Molly woke up before the alarm went off, or I slept through it, because the next thing I knew it was a bright eight in the morning. I felt as sunny as the weather after I brushed my teeth and splashed some cold water on my face. When I reached the kitchen, I found I wasn’t the only one in a good mood. Molly was all smiles when I sat at the table. She brought me a cup of coffee and sat down beside me. When she was seated, she pulled an envelope from her apron pocket.

“This is for you from Mister Gordon. He said you’d know what it was.”

She smiled again when I took the envelope out of her hand and stuck it in my vest pocket.

“Thank you for last night, Tyler. It was the most wonderfully romantic night of my life.”

Her praise made me blush. I could actually feel my ears turning red.

“The pleasure was all mine, Miss Molly. You are an amazingly beautiful and desirable woman.”

It was her turn to blush, something that she did often. With her fair complexion, when Molly blushed, she turned pink from the roots of her hair to where her neck disappeared in her dress collar.

“You are also very bold. I feel as if I’m a young girl when I’m with you and you seem a much older man.”

I had to smile at that observation because of how close to the truth it really was. Looking at her, I had a thought.

“Why don’t you dress up tonight and let me escort you to the Toro so you can see where I work. I’d like to introduce you to some of my friends and show you off. It will probably be a quiet night, so I could spend time with you.”

Molly appeared shocked at my offer.

“I’m a decent and proper woman, Tyler, I could never do that!” she exclaimed.

Her outrage was standard fare for this era. Women in the saloons were tolerated by the more traditional women as a necessary evil, but were still looked down on. I did not like that attitude a bit.

“And I’m a decent and respectable man. Do you think I’d work in a place I’d be ashamed of showing you, or work with people I was embarrassed to introduce to you?” I said sternly.

Molly looked at me for a second and reached for my hand.

“Of course not, Sweetheart. I know you are a good man or I wouldn’t be with you. I guess it wouldn’t hurt me to visit there, as long as you’ll bring me home if I grow uncomfortable.”

I was happy that she changed her mind, and told her I’d come pick her up around nine and have her home by ten or earlier if she wanted.

I took my laundry to Clem’s, got a shave and listened to the latest gossip. Clem was in rare form that morning, because he’d picked up some juicy tidbits at church the day before. Clem was a Baptist and attended the same church as Charles Howard. Clem had overheard Howard talking to another man about Toliver the railroad man. Howard said that he had known all along that Toliver was helping the government crackdown on the counterfeiting ring. From the tone of the conversation, Howard was acting as if he’d come up with the whole idea.

The thought of Howard doing damage control to cover his ass from the dealings of his partner Toliver made me smile. I thought it might make the meeting I planned on having with the judge go smoother.

When I left Clem’s shop, I dropped off a note with the clerk of the court and asked him to pass it on to Judge Howard. In the note, I asked for a half hour of the judge’s time to discuss a possible ethical problem I was facing in defending Carlos Trujillo.

I arrived at the saloon at about ten in the morning. When I walked through the door, the first person I saw was Pen, sitting at a table with Liz and Manuel the bartender/janitor. Pen wasn’t back to normal by a long shot, but judging from the grin he gave me, he felt much improved.

“Here’s our young marvel now. We were just talking about how you’ve managed to take over and actually grow my business. You are making me look like a genius for hiring you.”

I blushed again and mumbled a denial as Pen and Liz beamed me smiles. I walked behind the bar and grabbed the coffee pot off the two burner wood stove that sat in a small alcove. I poured myself a cup of java and joined them at the table. Pen handed Manuel his and his wife’s wages, and the barman went back to work.

When it was just the three of us at the table, I floated the ideas about changing the saloon that I’d thought of yesterday. Pen listened carefully and agreed that my ideas had potential, except he thought that the ideas would work best in an entirely new establishment. Liz agreed with Pen, and there at the table the seeds were planted that grew into the El Paso Gentlemen’s Club. I was concerned about finding the money to start up a completely new venture, but Pen didn’t seem to consider it a problem. He said for me to give the matter some more thought, and we’d present the idea to his friends on Wednesday night.

I took a few moments in my office to read the letter Agent Gordon had written for me. The letter was all I could ask for in a reference and then some. Gordon’s handwriting was regal and flowing, and his choice of words made it seem as if I walked on water. When I read his flourished signature, I finally learned his first name. The letter was signed, Artemus Gordon, Special Agent. I had heard that name somewhere before in the twentieth century, but I couldn’t figure out where. I shrugged, I guess Agent Gordon must have been in one of the western history books I’d read.

Starting at noon, Pen had me sit through his meetings with the staff. I was happy that Pen passed out some extra money because of the good week we’d had. When everyone had been paid and were all set for the coming week, Penn handed me three twenty dollar gold pieces.

“I know you’ve not had a chance to make any money playing cards, young Ty, so I sweetened your pay a tad. You made me lots of money last week, and took on all my duties, so it was well earned.”

I thanked Pen and didn’t protest the extra money. Truth is, I had run a negative balance last week because of the new guns and holsters. In addition, the only money I’d earned was the ten dollars Señor Trujillo had paid me. The money from Pen put me fifteen dollars up for the week.

 
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