Longarm could not see and did not have time to worry about it anyway.
He hit the ambusher chest high, all of Longarm’s weight bearing down, and both of them were propelled in a tangle of arms and legs, grunts and grimaces, onto a pile of sour straw.
No sooner had Longarm’s paralyzing shout died away than it was replaced by a high-pitched shriek of raw terror coming from somewhere close to Longarm’s right ear.
He didn’t have time to think about that. He had the gunman to deal with.
Quickly, before the ambusher could have time to recover, Longarm tried to throw a punch. The two were much too close together. There was neither space nor leverage for such a blow, and his punch landed ineffectually on the muscle pad of the ambusher’s shoulder.
Longarm tried again, this time with a viciously chopping elbow that caught the ambusher on the left temple. Longarm felt his opponent’s head snap back and the body beneath his suddenly go limp as the ambusher was knocked unconscious.
Before he had time to rise or even to turn, he was jumped from behind. Longarm twisted and kicked out at his attacker.
He heard a yelp of pain. And a familiar voice. He stopped fighting and let the hard hands of George and the stage driver pull him away from the limp body of the would-be ambusher.
“Longarm?” A match flared and he could see the two men he had leaped into action to save. The door to the barn stood open, cold air sweeping inside unheeded.
The stage driver gave Longarm a look of undisguised disgust. “I never woulda took you for a rapist, damn you.”
“Pardon me?” Longarm had no idea what the idiot could mean by a remark like that.
The driver pointed toward the form lying motionless at their feet. The gesture extinguished the match he had been holding in the same hand, and it took several moments before George could locate a lantern and light it.
“Oh, shit,” Longarm said.
It was no ambusher with a shotgun that was lying there but Madelyn Williams. “I thought …” he began. His subsequent explanation sounded lame even in his own ears, and he did not blame the driver for seeming skeptical after its telling. George was more charitable, but even he needed some convincing.
It was Maddy herself who confirmed Longarm’s story when she finally came around. She had a knot above her left ear, but the skin was not broken and she seemed little worse for the experience.
“It’s true I was standing here in the dark. Hiding, you might say. I didn’t want anyone to know I was coming around here at night to talk with a man in private. You can understand that, surely. People would talk. You know how they can be. I came inside here where I thought it would be warmer and waited in the dark so no one would know. I never thought about Custis mistaking me for someone who could want to do him harm. I was just standing there. And then the next thing I knew there was this awful roaring shout and someone or something leaping at me. That’s when I screamed.”
“We heard that an’ come runnin’, miss. Didn’t take no special thought to hear ‘twas a woman afraid that was doin’ the screamin’,” Jesse said. “We thought Longarm was … you know,” George added lamely.
“You were very brave, rushing in to save me like that. Thank you.”
Both men looked pleased, and Longarm thought George might be blushing a little at the pretty girl’s thanks. “Could I ask you something, Miz Bell?”
“Yes, certainly.”
Longarm was mildly puzzled. Miss Bell, the driver had called her. Maddy’s name was Williams. Or had been when Longarm knew her down in Telluride. There could be any number of reasons why she might choose to call herself something different here, of course.
“You called this man here by his first name a moment back. I’m thinking maybe you two already know each other?”
It was Maddy’s turn to blush. And there was no question about it. She turned a bright scarlet as the heat of embarrassment rushed into her rounded cheeks.
“Might be, miss, that you shouldn’t let that be known around town. You know what I’m saying? Folks here wouldn’t think anything special ‘bout a lady in your, um, particular circumstances needin’ to have you a word with a deputy Ewe Ess marshal. But if they thought you was talking ‘bout something personal, well, that’d be different the way they might be looking at it. You know? Me and George here, we won’t say nothing to nobody. You have my word on that. How ‘bout you, George?”
“Mine too,” the shotgun guard pledged.
“But you might oughta keep that in mind, miss.”
“That’s twice tonight you’ve been nice enough to try and save me,” Maddy said, and touched the driver on the wrist. The man looked acutely uncomfortable with that small amount of intimacy. And immeasurably pleased.
“George and me are gonna go back to the saloon and play another couple hands of poker now. Reckon the two o’ you can use the room over there to do your talking. It’s warm an’ private an’ there’s places to set. Longarm, whyn’t you drop over to the saloon later an’ have a drink with us before we all turn in.” Which was Jesse’s polite way of saying he and George would stay the hell away as long as was necessary. And no questions about what might, or might not, be happening in the tack room in the meantime.
“You’re mighty thoughtful,” Longarm said. “Thanks.”
“No trouble.”
George handed Longarm the lantern, and Jesse led the way out of the barn, carefully shutting the door behind them and leaving Longarm alone with Madelyn … or whatever it was she was calling herself these days.
Maddy followed Longarm into the tack room, where two cots and a pallet were made up. She looked at the larger of the cots. And blushed again as she turned to face Longarm and lifted her eyes to meet his.
Chapter 11
Longarm had no idea what was going through Maddy’s mind at that moment, but his own mind was very clear. He was remembering.
Seeing her eyes. But close to his. Only inches from his own. Cornflower blue, huge and bright and trusting.
And that trim, tidy, tiny body of hers. Naked. Her skin cool to the touch. Her breasts pink-tipped, the size of wild plums in August, barely a mouthful. But firm. And tasty.
Her belly flat and soft above a mat of dark curls.
The lips of her pussy an even brighter pink than that of her nipples. And wet. Slick and shiny with the moisture of quick desire.
Her laughter—Maddy Williams was always ready to find the joy in anything, everything—like the ringing of small silver bells.
She was one of those girls who is capable of bringing sunshine into the darkest shadows.
She held nothing back, gave herself fully to the zest of living. Her appetites were swift to rise, and she slaked them with a joyous eagerness. She held nothing back, kept nothing in reserve.
When she made love, every ounce of that tiny body was thrown fully and passionately into the complete giving of herself She did not merely allow Longarm to take her. She engulfed him. Contained him. Took all of his energies and captured them within herself.
Maddy Williams had been one of the most thoroughly delightful partners Longarm could recall knowing. Which was saying plenty.
That had been … what? Three years ago? No, not quite that long. Closer to two and a half. In the summer it was, and they had driven out on a picnic. Found a lush meadow high on a Mountainside and made love under the clouds, and later, when they lay side by side with Maddy’s hair spread over his shoulder like a silken cloak, a herd of elk came down through the glade, stepping with solemn dignity out of the screen of pale, trembling aspen and trooping in single file toward the creek far below, never once aware of the people who watched their passage.
That had been a wonderful moment, Longarm remembered. And afterward they made love again, and Maddy exclaimed over and over that day and for many days after about how magnificent the elk were and how beautiful. He remembered that day now. And so much more. There were many memories of Maddy.