Chapter 1

He had lost track of how long he had been riding ... it seemed like he had been in that saddle since he was able to sit up straight. One day melded into another and the nights had been cold and lonely for as long as he could remember.

But that was the life of a drifter such as he. His world consisted of his horse, his saddle and the meager supplies he carried with him at the time. His days began at the crack of dawn, making a cold breakfast before he packed up what little he had, and rode in whatever direction he fancied for that day. He would ride that day until he couldn’t take another step and then make a quick rudimentary camp before it got too dark. Sleeping on the cold ground as best he could, he rose the next day to do it all over again.

Clint Roberts had no particular destination in mind. He had no place he was rushing to be, no reason to push himself like this except a need to find something – anything – that he could grab onto and call home. Since the War between the States had taken everything he ever knew from him, he had been riding.

He was only twelve when his mother had gotten sick and died. He had no brothers or sisters. And when those soldiers came to the house, his father tried to keep them from taking young Clint with them and pressing him into service. For that they killed him. And not in a quiet, take him out back and shoot him kinda way.

No, they had beat him and kicked him till he was half dead, then tied his feet to his rope and then to his horse and spooked the horse into dragging him to death over the rocky, thorny ground. All this while Clint was forced to watch. Then those same soldiers left him there alone to fend for himself.

But Clint had beaten their plans. He had survived. He managed to make it till he was old enough to sell what was left and buy a horse and begin his quest. It had been hard growing up like that with no parents to guide him, but it had toughened him along the way – he was now a man that no one wanted to mess with!

He wasn’t a gunfighter, but he knew how to handle a gun well enough. And he wasn’t a drunken brawler, but he had handled more than a few. He was just a solitary man looking for a way out of his solitary life. So he rode.

He rode with no destination in mind and no direction in particular. He rode whichever way he happened to be facing at the time. Searching ... always searching ... and for what he didn’t have a clue.

One day his travels took him to a small Texas town just a couple days ride from the Mexican border. The place wasn’t much to look at – just a speck on the map. In fact, if he hadn’t spotted it from the ridge he rode along, he’d have rode right past it.

But he did see it, and decided that he could use a drink and a bath. So he turned his horse toward the town and in about a half hour was just on the edge of town.

From previous experience (a bad one) he had learned that when riding into a strange town, it’s best to stick towards the middle of the street – that way you have some time to react if necessary.

He had been taken by surprise once before by riding too close to the side of the road, because a stagecoach had just happened to be pulling into town that particular time. He was jumped, knocked off his horse, and fortunately was able to get up in time to win the fight with the two ruffians – both of whom were far too drunk to be able to successfully carry out such an ambush. He had learned that day it was best to give himself a little extra time to handle himself better should such an event occur again.

But this was a more peace-loving town and he had no such trouble as he rode slowly down the main street. He passed the general store and passed the jail with the deputy out front. A courteous tip of his hat gave the deputy ease at the stranger’s appearance in town and he sat back again in his chair.

He continued on to the local saloon and stopped there. Tying his horse to the rail within reach of the horse trough, he went inside to see what he could do to quench his thirst as well. It had been another hot, dry day and his throat burned from the hot dusty air. He could use something cool and wet to slake his thirst.

The interior of saloon wasn’t much cooler than outdoors, but it was darker. So dark, in fact, that his eyes needed time to adjust to the room. He stood in the doorway for a few seconds as his eyes got accustomed to the room’s light and then found a table against the wall. He sat down with his back to the wall while he studied the room and its occupants.

He had been sitting there for about 5 minutes before she came up to wait on him. As soon as he heard her voice, soft and smooth like creamery butter, he knew that this was not the dull, ordinary whiskey slinging whore he had come across in so many saloons in so many towns before.

“What can I get you, stranger?” she asked. He looked up from under his dusty Stetson at what had to be the prettiest face he had seen in many years. She was about 5’2” tall with fair skin, dark wavy hair that fell to about the middle of her back when it was let down, green eyes, soft red lips and a very eye pleasing 34D-22-32 figure.

“Can I get you a drink or something, mister?” she repeated.

Clint snapped out of the trance she had put him in. “Oh yeah. A whiskey please,” he said.

“One whiskey, coming up,” she said, smiling at his stumbling response. She went of to the bar to get his drink. He watched as she walked away, certainly the best thing he had seen in a very long time. She came back a couple minutes later with his drink.

“Here you go ... one whiskey,” she said. She set the drink down in front of him and turned to leave. He took her hand as she turned and she looked back at him.

“Can you sit for a spell? It’s been awhile since I had conversation with anyone, much less anyone as pretty as you,” he said.

“We aren’t allowed to sit unless you buy me a drink. Sorry, house rules,”

“Well, we don’t want to go around breaking house rules,” he said, “go get what you want and come back and sit with me.” and he tossed her 2 bits for the drink.

“I’ll be right back honey,” she said, touching his hand and she went to get her drink. A minute later she was sitting at the table with the drifter.

“I’m Anna. What’s your name, stranger?”

“Clint.”

“So what brings you to these parts, Clint? We aren’t exactly on any main routes here in San Angelo,” she said.

“Just passing through.”

“Oh? Where you headed? Most people passing through here are on their way someplace.”

“Don’t know. Just traveling till I find something worth stopping for,” he said, his voice showing how tired he was of the trail.

“Well, maybe you can find something worth sticking around for here.”

“Maybe. It seems like a pretty quiet place here.”

“Quiet to a fault sometimes!” she chuckled.

“Quiet is nice. I could use a little quiet. Maybe I will stick around for a spell. Is there a place a man could get a bath? I’m carrying a lot of trail dust with me anymore.”

“Yeah, you can get a bath upstairs. Come with me,” she said. The pair downed the last of their drinks, and she led him up the stairs to the rooms on the second floor. She took him into a small room with a tub, a sink with a hand pump, and a pot belly woodstove. Lighting the fire, she began filling the tub with the bucket under the sink. When his bath was ready and the water was hot, she turned to him.

“Your bath is ready, Clint. I’ll be downstairs when you’re finished. Do you need anything else before I go?” she asked.

“Do you have to go? Can you just stay here? I’ve spent a long time talking to myself – it’s nice to hear another voice besides my own for a change!”

“I’d like that, Clint,” she said, smiling.

She stepped closer and began undressing him. She removed his dirty, worn shirt, unbuttoning each button slowly and carefully, she pulled the shirt open revealing his broad chest, sparsely covered with coarse curly hair. She rubbed her hands over his chest and softly moaned.

She thought she had been quiet enough, but Clint had heard her quiet need. He turned to her and took her in his arms, pulling her close. She lifted her face to his as he looked down into the softest green eyes he had ever seen.

He held her close to him, feeling the softness of the woman pressed to him, the warmth of her body and the sweet scent of her perfume. It had been a long, long time since he had felt, seen, and smelled anything so pleasant.

Anna too was feeling something special, something she hadn’t felt with the regular clients she served and serviced in the saloon. There was something about this drifter, this stranger, that made her knees weak.

He was a rugged, handsome man to be sure – 6’2” tall with dark hair to his shirt collar, a strong jaw covered in stubble beard, a broad thick chest and strong arms. He was definitely someone a lady would take notice of.

But there was more. Maybe it was his gentle self-assuredness, his confidence that attracted her. Maybe it was the mystery he enveloped himself with, not wanting to reveal anymore than necessary to keep the conversation going. Whatever it was, she was smitten. She enjoyed talking and being with him, more so than she had felt for any man for some time.

“We ... should probably get you ... in the bath before ... the water gets cold,” she finally said, her breathing becoming noticeably more labored.

He took his pants and underwear off and stood before her naked. She felt her knees go weak again as she saw him in all his glory. Anna waved to the tub, not daring to speak for fear of showing her true feelings and desires at that moment. She surveyed his naked body head to toe and when her eyes fell upon his well endowed cock, she licked her lips unconsciously.

He got into the tub and settled into the water. She poured a small amount of what she called “lilac water” that she had made herself from the flowers around the outside of the boarding house that she lived at.

She didn’t use much, first off because he didn’t want to smell “girly” as he told her, and secondly because lilacs were not native to the area and the seeds to grow them were hard to come by. As he soaked in the tub, she took the lye soap laying next to the wash basin and wet it, scrubbing him good all over his upper body.

When she had worked up a good lather on him, she used another bucket of warm water to rinse him off. Then it was time to do his legs and lower body. He stood up in the tub and she lathered up his legs, rinsing them as well. Inevitably, the time came to wash his personal area.

“Um...” she said, blushing as she tried to find a ladylike way of asking.

“It’s okay. I know what you mean. But it’s okay,” he said, relieving her from asking permission.

She looked up and smiled at him and working up a lather in her hands, took his cock and began washing it gently. He closed his eyes as she handled him, feeling the soft touch she had and noticing he got harder as she washed him. Anna noticed as well and as he swelled, she went from washing him to stroking him, enjoying his stiffening shaft and knowing he was enjoying his “bath” more and more.

“You keep that up missy, and I’m gonna have a hard time getting back in my saddle!” he said. She let go of him like she had hold of a rattlesnake at his words, blushing as red as her dress.

“I ... I...” she stammered. He took her hand as she tried to speak.

“It’s okay, ma’am. But I have been on the trail a long time and a woman’s touch ... well you seen what it done.”

She quickly got a towel from the hook next to the door and assumed a more “professional” attitude. She held it up for him, averting her eyes coyly as he stepped out of the tub. She wrapped the towel around him drying him off in places she could touch and leaving his privates for him to dry. Then she got his clothes and handed them to him, turning around as he dressed.

“Okay, you can turn around now, I’m decent,” he said. Anna turned around, right into his arms again.

“Anna, this may seem right forward of me, but I’ve been on the trail a long, long time and I haven’t felt a soft bed or a soft woman in longer than I care to think about...” he began. She placed a finger on his lips and he stopped talking. She took his hand and led him out of the washroom and down the hall to another room.

This one was smaller, barely big enough for the old metal frame twin bed and a small nightstand. They went inside and he stood by the foot of the bed as she undressed, slipping out of her dancehall dress and undergarments as he watched. She sat down on the edge of the lumpy bed and curled a finger at him, motioning him to come over without saying a word.

He stepped in front of her and she unfastened his belt and pulled down his pants and underwear in one move, freeing his cock again – this time at eye level. Anna took his cock in hand again, but now she was not so shy and demure about it. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He had been without a woman in a long time, and she hadn’t been treated like one in a similar length of time. She stroked his cock to hardness again then leaned forward to kiss the tip. She looked at him for a second, smiled, then took him into her warm, wet, mouth hungrily.

“Mmmmm” she hummed as she felt his silky shaft against her tongue and tasted a hint of the lilac from his bath.

He took her head in his hands instinctively and ran his fingers through her soft scented hair. As he cradled her face in his hands, she went to work sucking and licking his cock, lapping at his balls, and taking him deep into her mouth.

He was enjoying every bit of it too, as he grew harder and thicker with every moment she teased and toyed with him. Once he was stiff as a branding iron, she pulled back and laid back on the bed, unfastening her corset and opening herself for him.

Clint accepted her silent invitation, climbing into bed and positioning himself between her spread legs. As he knelt above her, she reached down and took his cock, guiding it towards her waiting eager pussy.

With one hand she guided his cock to her and with the other she spread her soft, puffy pussy lips, opening her flower to receive him. He lowered himself into and onto her as his cock slipped easily into her. Her pussy enveloped his cock and he felt the hot wetness of her surrounding him.

“Ohhhh...” she moaned loudly this time as he filled her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he slid deeper into her. He went deeper and deeper until he had bottomed out inside her, his balls resting against her ass and his cock pressing against her cervix, completely filling her to the brim.

He rested there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being inside a woman again, before he began pumping in and out of her. He started slowly, allowing her a chance to get used to his size, but quickly began thrusting into her in earnest. He pounded into her pussy hard and quick, riding her like was in a horse race. She moaned and writhed under his furious attack, holding onto the bed sheets with grip so tight her knuckles turned white with effort.

“OHHHHHH! OHHHHH!” she wailed as his cock pummeled her pussy. She reached down and began to massage her aching clit as his cock worked to bring her passions to a boil. He reached tout to grab her bouncing tits and his fingers dug deep into the soft flesh, further spurring her onto to her inevitable climax.

Just as she was about to burst, Clint shoved his cock into her one last time, holding himself in her as deep as he could as his cock spewed forth it’s white hot load. He hadn’t relieved himself in some time so he had quite a load built up, which he gladly gave her now. He shot spurt after searing spurt into the young woman, and as the first jet hit her pussy walls, she erupted herself, arching her back as she came hard.

“OHHHHGODDDD!” she screamed as her orgasm crashed into her. She clamped her legs around his tightly, holding him in her as they both competed to fill her pussy with a mixture of their cum, until it ran out from around his cock and stained the sheets under her with a growing wet spot.

As he came inside her, Clint gripped her tits almost painfully hard and she retaliated by raking her nails across his back, each of them so intense in their own orgasm, they were unaware of their actions.

Finally spent, he collapsed on top of her, his sweat drenched body slipping on her own until his cock had shrank back and plopped out of her, allowing a stream of cum to seep out, adding to the stain under her.

But she didn’t care – she lay there on her back gasping for air in ragged, tearing breaths as she tried to calm down. Clint wasn’t fairing much better as he laid beside her sucking in air like a spent horse, gulping down air as his lungs burned from the effort.

“That ... was ... amazing!” Anna panted, as she slowly regained enough breath to speak.

“Yeah...” Clint responded, still out of breath himself. They laid there in the bed for a few minutes as they regained their strength and calmed down. He held the girl in his arms as she rested her head on his chest. He smelled her hair as he slowly ran his fingertips over her soft skin.

“Well as nice as this is, Clint, I should be getting back downstairs. Heaven only knows what the boys downstairs are doing to the place without me there to keep ‘em in line!” Anna said finally getting up and getting dressed.

“I s’pose, I oughta be checking on my horse too. Where is the livery stable in town?”

“Just across the street from the sheriff’s office. You probably passed it on the way here.”

“Yeah, maybe, I was looking at the deputy as I rode past ... wanted him to know I wasn’t here to cause trouble,” Clint said.

“Well you ought to go over and introduce yourself ... you know, make nice with the local law so’s you won’t be looked at suspicious-like!”

“I’ll do that,” he said.

“So where are you staying while your here, Clint?” Anna asked, as she was putting on her stockings and fastening them to her garter belt.

“Don’t rightly know. Where is a good place?”

“Well you could try Miss Kitty’s place, The Yellow Rose Boarding House, down the street. That’s where me and some of the girls that work here stay. I think she’s got some rooms still available. And I know she could use a man around the place to help out around there. Help keep the local boys from hanging around and keep the drunken men from hassling the girls. If you’d be interested,” she said. Then she smiled, “I know I would be.”

“I’ll go inquire then,” he said.

Clint took his horse over to the livery stable and made arrangements to board the animal for the next couple days until he knew if he would be staying or not. Then, with that taken care of, he walked down the street to Miss Kitty’s to see about a room for himself.

The Yellow Rose Boarding House was a huge place with a gable-style roof with eight dormers – four on each side. The boarding house had eight rooms for rent. Five of those rooms were taken by girls who worked at the saloon – one of which was Anna.

One of the rooms was taken by a harmless old man that the girls called “Gramps”. There was two rooms available when Clint came to town. The house had a large covered porch across the entire front of the house and Clint walked up the six stairs leading up to the porch and in through the front door.

He was greeted almost immediately by a 40-ish year old woman in a very stylish red two-piece walking suit. She wore a fitted full-button jacket, and a full-length skirt with the bustle in the back which was typical for a lady in those days. She was very proper and Clint removed his hat before speaking to her out of respect.

“Howdy, Ma’am. I’m looking for Miss Kitty?

“That’d be me. What can I help you with, stranger?”

“Ma’am” he said, tipping his head forward in acknowledgement, “My name is Clint Roberts. Anna down at the saloon said you might have rooms available for a trail weary man to rent out?”

“Yes, Mr. Roberts, Anna said you may be coming by.”

“Oh? Well, I hope she said good things about me!” he said, smiling.

“She did. I have two rooms available currently. Would you like to see them?”

“That isn’t necessary, Ma’am. I’m sure they will be fine. Beats sleeping on the cold ground with a saddle as your pillow any time!”

“Very well. Let’s go to the office and I will draw up the papers and explain the rules.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, following her.

“First rule is that no one who stays here calls me ma’am. I’m Miss Kitty to you.”

“Fair enough, Miss Kitty. You can call me Clint then.”

“Deal. Now, I run a respectable place here Clint. Even though most of my boarders are the girls from the saloon, I don’t allow any shenanigans here. No men-folk are allowed upstairs unless they live here. If any of the girls get a gentleman visitor, they can sit with them in the living room or out on the front porch. They aren’t allowed anyplace else except the downstairs bathroom.”

“Yeah, Anna said that you were having a few problems with some of the local boys and some of the saloon patrons getting too friendly.”

“These local boys, when they get the itch, tend to hang around and see what kind of trouble they can cause. And we are perilous close to the saloon at times.”

“Well if you’ve a mind to, I can earn my keep by making sure those problems don’t fret you none. I am also fairly handy with a hammer, saw and axe.”

“I think we can work something out. How long you plan on staying?” Miss Kitty asked him.

“Don’t rightly know. Depends on how the town fits. So far though, it seems to be right comfortable.”

“Well this is a pretty quiet town most of the time. Not a whole lot round these part to get excited about!”

“Sounds good to me. I’m looking for some peace and quiet,” Clint said.

“Let me show you ‘round the place then,” Miss Kitty said.

Just inside the main double doors of the house was the staircase leading upstairs to the rooms. To the right of the stairs was the large dining room and the kitchen behind that. To the left was the living room, a downstairs bathroom and lastly Miss Kitty’s office and her private room.

Boarders at Miss Kitty’s place could get their mail (which she called “postals”) as well as pay their bill in the office. A door leading from the office to her private room was always kept closed – no one knew what her room looked like but her.

Upstairs was a wide hallway running from the front of the house to the back. The hallway was split in the middle with the staircase from the first floor. Four rooms and a bathroom were on each side of the hallway. Clint picked out his room of the two available and put his saddlebag inside once Miss Kitty gave him the key to the room and to the front door.

With his room secured and his saddlebags stored for the time being, Clint thought it about time he introduced himself to the sheriff’s office.

“If you’ll excuse me, Miss Kitty, Anna thought I should probably stop by and talk to the sheriff so he will rest easy about me.”

“That’s a good idea. And tell him that you’ll be working for me at keeping the peace here so he knows who to talk to if need be about trouble.”

“Good idea ... I’ll do that. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Clint left the boarding house and walked the block to the sheriff’s office. He walked in and introduced himself and after about 30 minutes of talking to both the sheriff and his deputy, he had assured them both that he wasn’t looking for trouble, that he was just looking for a nice quiet place to possibly settled down for awhile.

He had explained his past and that he was not looking for vengeance against those who did what they did (he had found out most of them had since died anyway) he was just looking to escape his past and start a new life.

Clint explained that he had taken up residence at The Yellow Rose Boarding House and that he would be working there as a handyman and a guardian of the property and the girls that lived there. With the sheriff and his deputy appeased and comfortable with him, Clint walked over to the saloon to see Anna.

“Anna, I wanted to thank you for speaking to Miss Kitty for me. I got a room there now and will be working for her as the handyman and watching out for troublemakers for you and the other girls,” he said.

“That sounds wonderful. The girls and I could use someone to watch out for us. Some of the girls have been bothered in the past as we came or went from here. It will be nice to be able to walk the streets in peace.

“You know, girls like us ... well people think they can treat us like pieces of meat. We may work in a saloon and we may ... you know – offer our services, but when we aren’t working, we like to be treated with some respect! Whores are people too! We have feelings and can be hurt just like anyone else.”

“I know Anna. But you girls don’t have to worry about that anymore. I also had a long talk with the sheriff and his deputy and told them about myself and what I’d be doing around Miss Kitty’s. They seemed pretty friendly and helpful. So it looks like I’ll be sticking around for a little while at least.”

“Oh that’s wonderful! I’m so glad!” she said, touching his arm and smiling wide.

“I also stopped by to find out what I owed you for earlier ... you know the bath and...” he looked up stairs as he spoke.

“Oh that – honey, don’t you worry none. What you did up there, I should be paying you! No, the bath and other – they are taken care of! And thank you very much, kind sir!” she said, with another big smile and a wink.

“So what time do you girls go to work? And what time do you go back to Miss Kitty’s?”

“Well, Sam opens the bar at 11:00 in the morning every day except Sundays. On Sundays, he opens at 1:00 in the afternoon on account of church and all. He closes up the place around 1:00 in the morning usually, unless we are real busy. Then he may stay open awhile longer to make some extra money.”

“So what days do you work?”

“Well, I’ve been here longer than most the other girls so I can pick the days I work. Normally I work Monday through Thursday and have Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off. I can work more if I need some extra money, but usually I try not to – I like my time off too!”

“Oh, okay. Well I can understand that ... and I’m kinda looking to see you sometime when you aren’t working too. I need someone to show me around and help me get settled in here if I’m gonna stick around!”

“I was hoping you were going to ask me. I like spending time with you,” she said, shyly looking down.

“Well, I’d better be getting back to Miss Kitty’s. I’ll be back tonight to walk you and the girls home.”

“Thank you, Clint. It will be nice to walk home without looking over my shoulder all the way,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. He left and headed back to Miss Kitty’s and while he waited for the saloon to close up, he started putting away his things in the dresser in his room.

He didn’t have a lot of belongings ... life on the trail didn’t allow for a lot of belongings. But what few things he did have he put away. One of his most prized possessions was an old tintype his father gave him of his mother – he didn’t remember too much about her anymore except a few faded stories his father had told him.

So the tintype was the only real link he had to his past. He had managed to salvage his fathers pistol and gun belt ... his father wasn’t wearing them at the time the soldiers came by. So they escaped being taken from him, and he carried them with him now as reminders of a childhood cut tragically too short.

Clint put his mothers tintype on the dresser, and put his few clothes away. He took a look at his boots – he would need to be getting a new pair soon. And his pants were wearing thin as well. It wouldn’t be long before he would have to be replacing them too. It was a good thing he found this town when he did ... who knows how long it would have been before the next town came along, had he missed this one. He made a point to get to the general store soon and see what replacing these things would set him back.

His unpacking done, Clint went downstairs. “Miss Kitty, do you have anything that needs tending to before the girls get off work?”

“Not that I can think of, Clint. You might want to take a look at the wood crib and see how much firewood there is though,” Miss Kitty said.

“Okay, I’ll have a look,” he said. A minute later he came back. “Miss Kitty, I reckon you got four cord or so out there right now cut and split.”

“Well we will need some more before too long. But you don’t have to start right off. Why don’t you just sit out front on the porch and make an appearance so that the young boys don’t get any ideas.”

“Okay I’ll be out front though, if you need anything,” he said, and headed out to sit on the porch. He took up a position on the porch so he was plenty visible and sat there waiting for anything that might need his attention.

A trio of young boys, probably no older than 12 or 13 came by, hoping to see something to spark a young man’s fancy. But when they saw him sitting on the porch, they kept on walking past quickly, eyes on the ground ahead of them.