Chapter 6

I ain't never been the owner of a ranch, afore, soz I needed to learn a hell of a lot in a very short time. I talked to Jake about it, and we decided the best way to handle the situation was for me to follow him around as he did his daily work. The more time I spent with Jake, the more I knew that I didn't know a damned thing about ranchin'. I told Jake that it was a damned good thing that we had him to run the place, because it would sure as hell go to rack and ruin ifen it had to depend on me.

I followed Jake around like a love sick puppy for two weeks and learned a hell of a lot about ranchin', but I also knew that there was even more that I didn't know. Emily insisted that we go into Cheyenne and go by the courthouse so that we would be officially married. She wanted to be sure that I was recognized as the owner of the ranch, now that her father was dead. That's when I found out about The Ranchers' Association and the fact that it met once a week at The Cheyenne Social Club. Emily's father had been a member, and, now that I owned the Flyin' W ranch, I was automatically a member.

It seemed that Emily knew all about the Association and the Social Club, and I was absolutely astonished that she expected me to attend the meetings! The meetings were every Tuesday night, and she expected me to attend and to take part in all of the activities, including spending the night with a whore. Now, ifen that don't beat all!

Then I found out why she was in favor of me goin' to the meetings and all that other stuff. Just like me, she knew that whores hear all kinds of things and are willin' to tell them for a few gold pieces. Anyway, she wanted me to take a whore and question her about all the things that she heard. Of course, I had to fuck the whore to keep her from being suspicious, so that was what Emily wanted me to do. Well, OK, I could do that, but strictly in the interest of getting information we could use to find out what Kilgore was plannin' to do against us. Un-huh.

When Tuesday came around, I made sure that Emily really wanted me to go to the meeting. "Absolutely, I want you to go. It looks to me like we have two choices, either you can just go over to the Rockin' K and put a bullet into old man Kilgore, or you can go to the meeting and find out what he has planned so that we can meet the threat. Which one do you want to do?"

"Well, I guess, when you put it that way, I'll go to the meetin'. To tell you the truth, this is the first time in my life that I ain't lookin' forward to fuckin' a woman. I'd hell of a lot rather stay home and fuck you."

"I know, Honey, I feel the same way. I love you fer the way you feel, but we gots to find out what Kilgore has planned. I just know he plans to attack us, and we need to know how to fight him."

Well, she convinced me that she was serious about me goin' to that meetin', soz I saddled up Jack, and we ambled into town. The Cheyenne Social Club had its own stable and corral, soz I left Jack there. I tipped the swamper to give Jack a rub down and make sure he had some oats and corn to munch on.

I went inside and had one of them German beers what was so good. While I was standin' at the bar, Kilgore came in, in his wheelchair. I nodded to him, but he very pointedly ignored me, and I had to smile to myself. He wasn't busy, so I asked the bartender ifen Kilgore used one of the whores. He assured me that Kilgore did, soz my curiosity got the better of me, and I asked what he did, since he was paralyzed from the waist down.

The bartender said that two whores get him from the wheelchair to the bed and undress him. One of the whores leaves, and the other one strips naked. She sucks on Kilgore's cock to make it hard. When he's as hard as he's gonna git, she straddles him and puts his cock inside her pussy. Then she bounces up and down on him until he comes. This takes a while, so she usually has a come, too, since she has complete control of the action. The whores like the duty, since Kilgore tips real good, and they know that he ain't gonna hurt them. The whore spends the whole night with Kilgore, even though she knows that he ain't gonna be able to fuck her more than once a night.

The Cattlemen's Association met fer supper and the meetin'. There wasn't much association business talked about, though there was some talk of gittin' one or more brokers to come to Cheyenne and buying the cattle here, instead of waitin' 'til they reached Kansas City or wherever. Nothin' was decided, so it was left hangin' 'til the next meetin'. I had a feelin' that they never would decide—they just liked to talk.

We sat around smokin', drinkin', and talkin' fer about an hour, then we adjourned the meetin' to get down to the real business of the evenin'—fuckin' them high class whores. I think I surprised a lot of the men by selectin' one of the older whores, she must of been 30 years old. She led me to my room on the second floor; Kilgore was the only one who had a room on the ground floor.

We took our clothes off and I had her give me a rub down afore doin' anythin' else. You ain't seen nothin' 'til you've seen a woman's tits bounce around while she's givin' you a vigorous massage. Even ifen she don't know nothin' about how to give a massage, it's still a hell of a lot of fun to watch them tits shake and bounce.

I don't like to put my cock into a dry pussy, soz I usually have the whore straddle my waist and diddle her pussy while I play with her tits and nipples. I tell her to play with herself 'til she comes. That usually takes 10-20 minutes, and I can check easy enough fer when she is wet enough by just stickin' my finger inside her pussy and feelin' around. Once she is wet enough, the fuckin' can begin.

This night, I asked the whore a lot of questions about the men at the meetin', not just askin' about Kilgore. I didn't want her to know that he was the one I was really interested in. I did find out that Kilgore had told his helper with the wheelchair to find a gunslinger fer him. The gunslinger should come afore breakfast tomorrow. She didn't know nothin' else, but I guessed that the gunslinger was aimed at me.

The next mornin', I went out to the stable to pick up Jack fer the trip back to the Flyin' W. As I walked in the stable door, who should I see but an old opponent in the gunslingin' wars. "George Washington! Be damned! I ain't seen you in a coon's age! What are you doin' way up here? I figured you never was gonna leave Texas."

"Hello, Jack. I'm here on a little business. I was due in about two weeks ago, but I got delayed. But it looks like I'm right on time, after all. DRAW!"

Well, I don't draw under those circumstances. I have my shotgun rigged so that I can just pivot it on my belt without ever drawing it. That saves me a mite of time. I can cock the hammers as my hand passes by on its way to the triggers, so that saves another mite of time. My hand hitting the hammers starts the gun to swivel, soz that saves a mite of time. When all of those saved mites of time are added together, it gives me a second or so advantage over my opponent, since he normally has to draw from his thigh holster.

Well, George was fast, but I was a mite faster! His Colt was just clearin' his holster when my first barrel went off. I was a bit rushed, soz my first shot caught him around the knees, but that was good enough. His reflexive jump when those lead balls hit his legs both spoiled his carefully practiced routine, and knocked him to the ground.

As he fell, my second shot caught him in the face. I was aimin' fer his chest, but he messed up my aim by fallin' sooner than I expected. Well, it really didn't make no never-mind since he was dead, anyway, whether I hit him in the chest or in the head with them .36 caliber lead balls. And, George Washington was close enough that most of the balls did hit him. A few did go flyin' around and about, but nobody was hurt, soz it didn't make no difference.