Tenderfoot
Chapter 3

Copyright© 2012 by aubie56

Western Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Times are tough at the turn of the 20th Century in the USA, so Aaron is forced to go West to Deadwood where the ground is reputed to be covered with gold just waiting to be picked up. Aaron quickly learns the truth, but manages to survive, and even thrive, in the wilderness of Deadwood, South Dakota, until the big fire. He and his new family decide to head south for Texas. Never did a tenderfoot have to learn the ways of the West so fast! Aaron turns luck and pluck into a winning combination.

Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Consensual   Historical   Western   Harem   Violence  

After supper that evening, I again asked Annie what she might know of any jobs available. She said that there was nothing that she could recommend. As far as she knew, the only job that I could get would be as a miner at one of the local gold or lead mines. She said that she would not recommend that because the only time a job came open was when a miner was killed, and the mine management was looking for a replacement.

That definitely was not enticing to me, so we talked about other things until her mother called her to get back to work. The one good thing accomplished with that conversation was to get her agreement to ride with me the next afternoon. She didn't even ask her mother for permission this time!

I really was not interested in the "night life" of Deadwood. I didn't care for the liquor, I was not a poker player, and I didn't want to waste my money on whores, so there wasn't anything left for me to do but sleep. I went to breakfast early this time so that I would have plenty of time for my horse riding lesson.

Mr. Hanson showed me how to care for my horse. I was surprised at how many dos and don'ts there were. After an hour of so of that, he had me on a horse and riding around in the yard. He corrected some of my errors and sent me out to ride some more for practice.

I figured that I would ride over to the freight office I had worked for on my way to Deadwood to see if there was any chance of a job with them. Hell, they already knew that I was a conscientious employee, so I must have stood a better chance with them than with somebody who didn't know me. Well, I was lucky. They did need another guard for a shipment of gold that was headed to the railhead in two days. The problem was that I needed to ride a horse this time. I was cocky enough to believe that I could master horseback riding by then, so I was glad to take the job. I was told when and where to show up, and I rode away full of piss and ginger.

That evening, I told Annie of my good fortune at finding a job, and she kissed me on the cheek right there in public. Several of the customers laughed and applauded, so both of us turned bright red. Annie scurried into the kitchen, but I was forced to sit there in public for the whole time. Man, was I embarrassed!

I showed up for the job and was issued a shotgun with some shells. At least, this time I knew how to use it. We left so early that I barely had time for a meager breakfast and a goodby to Annie. I expected to be gone a minimum of five days, and I wondered how I would stand being separated from Annie for that long.

The first day out was a real learning experience for me, both with my horse and my job. I was one of four guards for a single wagon pulled by six oxen. Actually, four oxen could have handled the job, but the extra two were there in case of accident. We guards were set out a little away from the wagon of gold to give the other guards time to react if we were attacked. One man rode in front of the wagon, one man rode to the rear of the wagon, and Jed and I rode to each side about 30 yards out from the trail.

Being new to riding a horse and not being on a trail that was easy to follow was a hell of a way to learn a new job. At first, I let the horse pick the route, and he invariably walked under trees so low that I was swatted in the face by limbs. Finally I got smart and began directing the horse to a route that was more comfortable for me. Of course, the horse couldn't have cared less whether or not I got banged by limbs, but he did balk a couple of times when I wanted him to walk through brush that would have swatted him. Oh, well, live and learn.

Luckily for me, we had no trouble on that first day, so I had time to catch on to what was expected of me and to learn the ways of the horse. I did get some teasing that evening at supper, but I was able to laugh it off, and there were no hard feelings over the whole thing. This just cemented my friendship to the other men in the crew. They were delighted in the way I could take a joke at my own expense.

I was not so fortunate the next day. It was about mid morning when a rifle shot rang out and the lead ox dropped in his tracks. That was enough to stop the wagon, and it was not going anywhere until the dead ox was moved out out the way—a job that could take as much as an hour.

We all looked around to try to spot where the shot had come from. Dammit, the shooter had been using smokeless powder, so there was no tell-tale plume for us to see. There were so many echoes that we could not locate the source by the sound, so all we could do was wait for trouble. Our orders were to assemble at the wagon in case of this kind of attack, so that was what we did.

Each of us took our place, with me on the left side of the wagon corresponding to the position I had occupied as an outrider. We weren't worried about our horses being shot, except by accident, because horses were too valuable to be wasted. The horses were loosely hitched to the oxen yokes, so they were out of the way. Only a fool would shoot at any more of the oxen.

We held our places around the wagon for about 15 minutes, and finally there was movement among the trees. Five men came riding toward us from the direction of the rear of the wagon. They were shooting pistols and yelling as if they were trying to frighten us. As far as I was concerned, they were doing a damned good job of it, too. Nevertheless, I didn't break and run, which would have been just asking to be killed.

Hadley was the man in the rear of the wagon, and we keyed on him. We waited for him to fire before we did. He was the senior man, and had been in this kind of predicament before, so we depended on him for guidance. We all had 10-gauge shotguns loaded with #00 buckshot in the left barrel and a slug in the right barrel. The buckshot was for the man and the slug was for the horse. Of course, either load would be uncomfortable for either type of target, but that was what we were prepared for.

He waited until the bandits were about 100 feet away before shooting. His first shot was from the right barrel and aimed at the lead horse. That slug was a sure stopper for anything it hit, and the horse was nailed in the chest. The horse went down straight away and the rider was thrown over his head. As we figured, the rider didn't move after he hit the ground.

Hadley didn't wait to see what the effect of his shot would ultimately be, but immediately shifted his attention to another of the riders. This time, he let loose those buckshot. There was no telling how many hit the man, but one caught him in the neck and tore a hole in his throat. We could see the blood spurt as he rode by. He was careening from side to side in the saddle and kept right on going without ever slowing down. He was as good as dead, because there was no treatment for such a wound, even if he was not dead already.

They came riding down my side of the wagon, so I was the next one to get a shot at them. Hadley was reloading as fast as he could, but the riders were moving too fast to give him another shot at them. They were still coming toward me when I fired. I used the buckshot first and could see that I hit my man more than once, but he, too, kept riding past, so I never did know if my shot was fatal. They were pulling away from us when I fired my second shot.

The slug caught a horse in the right rear quarter and smashed his hip on that side. The horse went down with the rider still in the saddle. When the horse hit the ground, it rolled, and crushed its rider as it did so. If nothing else, the man had a broken back and a broken neck. We could see that when we later went to strip him of anything valuable.

 
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