Chapter 1

Tawny Stafford crept silently up a slight rise covered in sagebrush and creosote bushes. She made no sound that the average man could hear and she was very alert. She didn’t like the fact that she was upwind from the pond, but she couldn’t chance going around to approach from down wind. In her fourteen year old hand she carried a Walker Colt, in .44 caliber and it took both of her hands to raise and shoot it. But she was good, and not much escaped when Tawny aimed at it. Very slowly she raised her head to see what was at the water hole. She’d found tracks. Stranger’s tracks. And in this country strangers almost always meant danger to her and her family. Her eyes widened as she saw the stranger. It was a man ... and he was naked.

He was taking a bath.

Her mouth hung open as she took in the scene. His horse was tied to a bush and balanced on the saddle were his clothes. “Well”, she thought to herself “He’s at least smart enough to guard against critters getting in his clothes.” Her insides were in a turmoil. One part of her assessed the man as a potential enemy - his build, what his horse and tack looked like, the way he moved. A completely different part of her saw him as a man - a male. She had never seen a man naked before. That came from living in the badlands of Montana with her mother and two sisters. She’d had a father once, but she could barely remember what he looked like. He’d died in an Indian attack when she was just a baby. Of course she knew about things like sex and penises. She had watched their bull mate with the cows often enough, and their dogs and several other species of animals. She knew where her own sex was. She’d found it by accident while she was bathing in the very same pond the man was using for that purpose. Her mother had made some cactus soap and she was using the slippery stuff all over her body. Her hand had slipped between her legs and suddenly she had discovered a new hobby. “So that’s what a cock looks like” she thought to herself. “Don’t look like much to me. Hell, our bull’s got a heck of a lot bigger one than that.”

But back to business. What to do about the man. Other men had come before, and all of them had caused trouble. Her ma had shot one when he tried to force himself on her older sister. Two others had tried to steal cattle and had also been buried by the four women. A couple of others had stayed in the barn for a few days and had drifted on when they learned men weren’t all that welcome on the Bar-double-O ranch. There was a trail across the property that went by this pond. It also went within sight of the house and she knew he’d see it when he moved on. She didn’t dare go off to get Sandy or Beth to help her, and her ma was at the house. By the time she got to any of them he’d be done and on his way. A movement caught her eye.

The man was doing something with his hand. His back was to her now, so she couldn’t see, but he was looking down. Then he turned and she almost gasped. That shriveled thing between his legs wasn’t shriveled any more. Now it had grown to the point it was as long as both of her hands side by side. One of his own hands was wrapped around it and he was stroking it back and forth. Now it looked less brown than before, and more pink. Except for the tip. That was purple and looked almost like a wild plum. Now he was looking up, but his eyes were closed. His hand moved more quickly, almost a blur now and he grunted. Suddenly he froze, his hand back by the ball sack at the bottom of that now much more impressive cock and he leaned over backward a little. She did gasp when something shot out of the tip of his cock. It was a long white stream of something. It wasn’t piss, because it was all the wrong color and too thick for that. And it had a beginning and end. One long spurt of something that glinted in the sunlight like it had silver in it. Then another one came out, a little smaller. That was followed by two more and his hand was pumping again. He sagged as his hand slowed down. It flashed through her mind that this must be what ma called semen. She knew bulls had semen inside their penises and that must be what this was. She felt flushed and there was a strange feeling in her belly as she thought about what that semen was for.

He was moving toward his horse now. She couldn’t let him do that. She couldn’t see his gun, but she knew he had to have one.

She stood up, lifted the Walker and said in as strong a voice as she could muster: “Get em up stranger.”

He glanced her way, but kept walking toward his horse. She put a round right between his feet. The water splashed up, along with some mud from the bullet strike and streaked his legs. As the Walker bucked she rode it up and then let it back down, squarely on target with his chest. “I said get em up and I mean it.”.

He had stopped. He looked toward his horse once, but then back at her, his hands out away from his shoulders. He sure had broad shoulders. “Looks like you got the drop on me little missy” he said in a drawl that said he came from the south somewhere.

“What are you doing on our land?” she said, all business.

“Well, I reckon I didn’t know it was your land, little missy. I thought it was open range.”

“Stop calling me little missy,” she said, and then wondered why she’d said that at all. She didn’t care what he called her.

“Yes Ma’am” he said. Hell, that was even worse. Nobody had ever called her ma’am in her whole life. That was something you called old ladies.

“You never answered my question, stranger.”

“I’m just passin’ through, ma’am. I don’t want no trouble at all.”

Damn he looked fine standing there with no clothes on. “Now that’s strange” she thought to herself “Why would I like looking at him?” She still had that funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was making her nervous. The Walker was getting awful heavy too.

“Where’s your gun?” she said, eyeing the horse.

“It’s under my clothes. I wish I hadn’t left it there, now.” His voice was level. “You don’t need that canon you got there, ma’am. I’ve no intent to harm you or anyone. Like I said, I’m just passin’ through.”

“We’ll let my pa decide on that,” she said. She had always been taught to say she had a pa, especially to strangers, and to suggest that he was near. “Now, with your left hand, you put those clothes in your saddle bag. Then you drop your gun belt on top of your boots.” His boots were under his horse, on the ground. “Then you mount up and move your horse off thataway.” She motioned with the Walker. Damn it was getting heavy.

“Naked?” was his only reply.

“That’s right, I want you to mount up naked. I’ll fetch your gun and boots and then we’re gonna go see my pa. He can decide what to do with you.”

“Can I at least wear my hat?”

She almost giggled, but forced it down. “Yeah, you can wear your hat.”

And the amazing thing was that he did exactly as she told him to. As soon as he was mounted she dropped the Walker with a sigh. Then she whistled and her own horse cantered up the slope to where she was. As she walked to his boots and gun her horse followed her like a dog. The stranger was watching, interestedly. Keeping an eye on him she picked up his boots and put them in one saddle bag. The gun belt was beautiful. It was all oiled brown leather, well cared for. The pistol was a Colt and it too was beautiful. She looked at it longingly, and decided to drape the belt over her shoulder. Then she bounded up onto her horse and walked it over behind his.

“You ride pretty good for a girl” he said, his hands folded on the saddle horn. For the first time she got a look at his saddle and gear. She’d never seen anything as beautiful as his saddle. It was coal black, with silver conchos on it, and it was tooled. He had a lariat, and it was coiled like a cow man would do it. His bedroll and saddle bags were all that were left. And a rifle scabbard. It looked like it had a Winchester in it.

“You touch that Winchester and I’ll plug you before you can get it clear of that scabbard,” she said, trying to sound menacing.

“Oh, I won’t touch my Winchester.” He actually smiled at her.

She looked around nervously. She hadn’t had time to scout. “Anybody else with you?” she said.

“Nope. Just me.” His horse edged closer to hers, leaning to snuffle at her mount.

Suddenly, like magic, he had a pistol in his hand. It was pointed right at her face. She knew it was a .44, but it looked like the barrel was five inches across. And her Walker was laying across her own saddle. “Stupid” she thought to herself. She thought about trying to raise the Walker. Like he knew what she was thinking his thumb cocked the pistol.

“Now” he said. “Lets talk about you.” He leaned over and plucked the Walker from her numb fingers. Then his gun belt was pulled off her shoulder and draped across his saddle horn. He edged his horse over next to hers and went through her saddle bags. All she had was a canteen and some jerky. He looked her up and down and she colored up as she realized how she was dressed. She had on leather pants that had been her sister’s until a year ago. They were still a little big for her, but protected her legs from the brush. The shirt she wore had seen better days and was so thin that in the right light you could almost see right through it. Of course she had nothing on under it and her newly grown breasts poked out proudly. As he looked at her chest, where her nipples were obviously on display through the thin shirt her stomach got all warm and queasy. He just sat there, still naked, looking at her.

“You wanna tell me who you are?” he said. Damn that level voice. He didn’t sound worried at all.

“You touch me and you’ll hang for sure,” she said sullenly. “I’m only thirteen, mister.”

He smiled again. Damn that smile made her mad. “I have no intention of touching you. Unless you want me to. Do you want me to?” His voice trailed off.

“Of course I don’t want you to. Why would I want you to ... do...” she suddenly didn’t know what to say.

“Well, we never got to be properly introduced. My handle is Dusty. What do they call you round these parts?” His question, and the way he said it took her completely by surprise.

Without thinking she said “Tawny. Tawny Stafford. This is the Bar-double-O.”

“Well, Tawny Stafford, I suppose we’d better go see this pa of yours, before I start to burn.” With that he handed her his gun belt and the Walker.

Just like that.

The other pistol disappeared over the side of his horse, down by the rifle scabbard.

“What in tarnation are you doing” she asked, dumbfounded. She held his weapon and her own like they were scorpions.

“Well, the way I figure it, you caught me fair and square, and since I’m trespassing, I suppose your pa will want to talk to me about it.”

Now she was completely confused. She didn’t even know how to start thinking about what to do. She didn’t have to. Without another word Dusty turned his horse and headed off down the trail that led to the house. She had to canter to catch up to him, but she brought her horse up next to his. He glanced over, looking ridiculous, naked, wearing a cowboy hat. She started to say something but he cut her off. “Look, Tawny, just take me in. It’ll be our secret about that last little part, okay?”

More confused now than ever Tawny dropped back and stared at his back as they rode toward the house. Goodness but his back was broad. And smooth and all muscled looking. Suddenly Tawny wanted to touch that back. She shook her head, wondering where in the world that came from.

There were two women standing on the porch as they approached. One had a double barreled shotgun in her hands, the other a lever action Winchester. Dusty’s eyes took in the spread. It was run down, but not from neglect. What he could see was in pretty good repair, but it was old and had been used longer than most folks would do so. The woman with the shotgun was older. Probably in her late thirties. She was wind-burned, but had been handsome at one time. She held the shotgun like she knew what to do with it.

The other one was completely different. She couldn’t be a day over 15 and was any man’s dream. Long blond hair, tied back under a cowboy hat. She was wearing homespun, but man, she made it look good. Large firm breasts, a thin waist and hips to make a man drool. His dick lurched and he was glad he’d jacked off recently, or he might be in serious trouble soon. He pushed thoughts of how beautiful the girl was out of his head. This was serious. He could see the resemblance between the two on the porch and Tawny. Same basic frame, same hair coloring and skin tones. They even stood the same way. Alert, ready to move at a moment’s notice. Nothing like women he’d been around before. There was something odd going on here. He’d already decided there was no pa. He could tell she’d been bluffing about that. But where were the men folk? He’d banked on there being men folk who’d see him naked and believe he was no threat. Then he could negotiate. But if it was only women he could be in big big trouble. The one with the shotgun was frowning something terrible. Suddenly he wasn’t worried about his dick any more. Not about it getting hard, anyway. He decided he had better play this very carefully.

When they got to the hitching post in front of the house he just sat there. He hoped the girl would remember to give him orders. The young one on the porch spoke.

“Well, ma, look what Tawny found.”

He felt a surge of relief as Tawny spoke up. “I found him taking a bath in the pond north of here, ma. I figured I’d better bring him to you.”

The older woman was looking him over pretty well. Like some men looked at a horse they were interested in, or a cow they were evaluating. “And he just let you bring him in ... buck naked.” the woman said. Her voice was surprisingly soft and musical. He looked more closely at her. Yes, there was a good looking woman in that body. It was just hard to see.

“Well ... I got the drop on him. He was out in the pond and his guns and clothing were on his horse. I knew he’d see the house when he left, and what with all the trouble we had with the others...”

Dusty didn’t like the sound of that at all. The woman handed the shotgun to the looker and then walked over closer to him. She wasn’t stupid. She reached out and found the pistol in it’s hidden holster under the rifle scabbard. She looked at it, and then up at him. A long speculative look. Then she glanced past him to Tawny and eyed the gun belt slung over her shoulder. Her eyes went back to the saddle, bridle and the rest of his gear. Finally - and last - to Dusty’s chagrin, her eyes went to his groin. They lingered there for a minute and she looked up into his eyes. The last thing she looked at was his horse. She got down off the porch and lifted a back leg, inspecting the shoe. The girls were watching her with wide, interested eyes.

Finally she got back up on the porch, recovered the shotgun from the looker and said: “Take a light, mister. I reckon you’ll want your duds back. You’ll be staying for supper?”

Dusty wasn’t stupid either. “Yes Ma’am, it would be nice to have a hot meal. Thank you.”

The woman nodded and turned to the looker. “Put your eyes back in your head, Beth, and see to the man’s horse.”

Dusty took a chance. “Ma’am, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll take care of my horse.”

She looked at him again with those shrewd eyes, and then nodded. “Tawny, show him the barn.” Then she turned and walked into the house like he was a visitor from town. Beth craned her neck one last time, trying to see what his hands now covered, and followed her mother into the house. He heard her plaintive voice “Ma, what in the world are you doing?” Then he turned his horse and looked at Tawny.