Blood Wedding

8

Fargo had to sleep in the barn that night. Angel was using the bed he’d had in the house, and Molly was staying in the kitchen.

“I’ve slept on harder beds than that table before,” she’d said, and nobody mentioned that Jed had been laid out there only the previous evening. Fargo didn’t think it would have bothered Molly even if anyone had brought it up.

The barn smelled of hay and manure, and no one would ever have guessed that a dance had been held there so recently. Fargo didn’t mind the smell. He made himself a bed in the loft, laying his blanket over a pile of straw that he gathered up. He’d slept in worse places before.

After he got settled in, he lay back and thought about all that had happened since last night’s dance. There were a lot of little things that bothered him about all of it, but he hadn’t quite sorted it all out as yet. He was sure, however, that there was more going on with Murray and his gang than met the eye. Maybe he could have a little talk with Angel about it. Fargo chuckled at the thought. He might as well have a little talk with one of Molly’s dead mules, for all Angel would tell him.

He drifted off to sleep, but, asleep or not, he was always on the alert. When the barn door creaked open, he came awake instantly.

His hand went to his pistol, which was right beside him in its holster. He pulled it out and waited. For a few seconds he heard nothing more, but then something scuffed a ladder rung below him. He thumbed back the hammer of the pistol.

It was dark inside the barn. Only the faintest moonlight filtered in through the cracks in the boards, but Fargo’s eyes were used to the dark by that time, and in a few seconds he saw the dark outline of a head rise above the floor of the loft.

He let the hammer down quietly and said, “Is that you, Molly?”

“Yes.” She climbed the rest of the way up the ladder and stepped into the loft. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t until just now.” Fargo slipped the pistol back into its holster. “You almost got yourself shot.”

“That would have been too bad. But I didn’t want to make too much noise getting here. I didn’t want anybody to know I came. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Fargo sat up and said, “What’s that?”

Molly walked the few paces to where he was and sat on the hay beside him.

“Talley’s funeral,” she said when she was settled.

“What about it?” Fargo asked.

“You know what happened when we buried Jed. Don’t you think Murray might try the same thing again?”

Fargo hadn’t thought about that, but now that she’d brought it up, it didn’t seem very likely to him.

“He knows we’re onto that trick,” Fargo said. “He’d expect us to have somebody waiting at Talley’s house. Besides, he might not even know Talley’s dead.”

“He knows. He knows everything that goes on around here. He probably even knew about the little stash of money I had in my house.”

“You didn’t mention any money.”

“What good would it do to mention it? It’s either burned up or Murray’s got his dirty hands on it. It’s gone, either way.”

“If Murray took it, how did he know you had it?”

“The same way he knows everything else. Anyway, he might have burned the house, but you can bet he took everything that was worth taking before he set a torch to it.”

“Does Talley have anything that’s worth taking?”

“I don’t know. But Murray probably does.”

Fargo thought about that for a minute and said, “Talley wasn’t married, was he?”

“No. Not too many women would have anything to do with him because of the way he looked. People put a lot of stock in looks, in case you haven’t noticed. But then you wouldn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because big, good-looking galoots like you never think about things like that. You probably have women flocking around you like flies to a honey pot.”

“It’s not quite that bad,” Fargo said, feeling a little uncomfortable. “But let’s get back to Talley. If he wasn’t married, who’s looking out for his house tonight?”

“Nobody, probably. He didn’t have any kin around here. They’re all back east somewhere. He’s laid out at Rip Johnson’s place, and Rip and some of the others are sitting up with the body.”

The two men that Fargo had killed didn’t have anybody sitting up with them. Alf Wesley and some of the others had buried them with the others who’d been killed at the dance. At the rate Murray was losing men, he was going to have to find himself some new help before long, which wouldn’t make him feel any kindlier toward Fargo.

“If there’s nobody at Talley’s place,” Fargo said, “why would Murray wait until the funeral to go there?”

Molly sat up straighter beside him.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” she said. “Hell, Murray’s probably over there right now. Maybe we could catch him.” She stood up. “Come on, Fargo, let’s go. We can’t just let him take everything Talley had and then burn his place like he burned mine.”

Fargo wasn’t sure Murray would do anything of the kind.

“We have Angel,” he reminded Molly. “Murray might not want to take the risk of doing something that would make us decide to go back on our bargain.”

“What risk? If there’s nobody there, who’s to say Murray’s to blame for anything that happens? Without any proof of what he’d done, you’d never go back on your word. Get up, Fargo. We can’t let Murray get away with it.”

Fargo stood up and brushed a little straw off his clothes. He didn’t think Murray was going to get away with anything, and if he was, there was always the chance that he’d already done it. But Molly was insistent, and Fargo didn’t have anything against a little midnight ride now that he was fully awake anyway.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s go see if there’s any trouble going on.”

“This time, I’ll have a gun with me,” Molly said, and started down the ladder. She poked her head above the level of the loft and added, “Or two guns.”

The night air was cool and dry. A light breeze was blowing, and now and then a thin cloud would scud across the face of the moon. But there was plenty of light for the horses to see by. Molly was on the bay, riding just ahead of Fargo and leading the way.

They passed a couple of farmhouses, and one of them had lights in several of the windows. Molly said that was Rip Johnson’s place.

“He and Tom were never very good friends,” she said. “Men didn’t like Tom any better than women did. It was kind of Rip to sit up with him. Rip may be a son of a bitch, but he has his good points, few as they are.”

They rode on for another half a mile before they came to a solitary house silvered by the moonlight and sitting near a cornfield. It seemed to Fargo that everybody in Kansas must be growing corn.

I hope Rip came over here and milked Tom’s cow,” Molly said as they neared the house.

“I don’t hear any cows complaining,” Fargo said. “So somebody must have milked her. And we’d better be quiet ourselves. We don’t want Murray to hear us if he’s around here.”

Fargo didn’t think there was any danger of that. If Murray had been there, there would have been some sign of him, but there was none. No horses near the house or barn, no lights showing in the windows. And no one had burned the house. There was always a chance someone had killed the milk cow, but Fargo didn’t think that had happened.

“I guess I was wrong,” Molly said. “But that doesn’t mean Murray won’t be coming along later. Or that he hasn’t been here and cleaned out the house already. We’d better check inside and see if everything’s all right.”

They left their horses in the barn and walked to the house. When they went inside, Molly lit a lamp she found on a table near the door and they went through each of the small rooms. As far as Fargo could see, nothing looked disturbed or out of place. If Murray was going to do anything, he hadn’t done it yet.

“I guess we were chasing the wrong rabbit,” Molly said, setting the lamp down on the kitchen table. “But one of us ought to stay here for the rest of the night, just in case Murray does show up.”

“I can stay,” Fargo said.

“You mean you don’t think it would be right for a woman to stay. Well, let me tell you something, Fargo, I’m as good a man as you are.” Molly slapped at the Colt she was wearing, and the pistol seemed to jump into her hand. “See what I mean?”

“You’re fast, all right,” Fargo said. “But being fast doesn’t mean a thing if you can’t shoot.”

“I can shoot. You want me to shoot something and prove it?”

“I’ll take your word for it. But shooting at a target’s not the same as shooting at somebody who’s shooting back at you.”

“You could always draw on me and find out if I could shoot back.”

There was a seriousness in her voice that made Fargo wonder about her.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” he said.

“Then you’re not like most men. They never want to believe I’m as good as they are.”

“Maybe that scares them,” Fargo said.

Molly spun the pistol once and put it back in the holster.

“Like I told you before,” she said. “Most men are scared of a big woman. At least all these farmers around here are. They want their women to be little and dainty, which anyone can plainly see I’m not.

“And I said they might not know what they’re missing.”

“Yes, you did.” Molly looked around the kitchen. “Are you interested in finding out? There’s nobody here but us.”

In most circumstances, Fargo wouldn’t have hesitated to accept the offer. But these weren’t most circumstances.

“What if Murray happens to show up?” he asked.

“Are you afraid of me, or of Murray? I didn’t take you for a coward, Fargo.”

Fargo was too old to get into that kind of argument. He said, “Do you think Talley would mind if we borrowed his bedroom? Or would you rather we went out to the barn?”

“I’d bet you a gold dollar that Talley hasn’t ever used that bedroom for anything but sleeping in the eight or nine years he’s lived here. We might as well break it in for him. He wouldn’t mind, even if he was alive.”

She picked up the lamp and walked out of the kitchen. After a couple of seconds had gone by, Fargo followed her.

She went into the bedroom and set the lamp on a wash-stand that held a pitcher and bowl. She raised the chimney and started to blow out the flame.

“Don’t,” Fargo said. “I want to have a look at you.”

Molly’s face reddened. “You right sure about that? There’s a whole lot of me.”

“That’s what I want to look at.”

Molly, looking a little uncertain, removed her gunbelt and set it beside the lamp. Then she started to undress.

The more she took off, the better she looked. The mannish clothing had managed to conceal the true bounty of her figure even from Fargo, who had a keen eye for that sort of thing. Her breasts were mountainous, but they stood proudly out from her chest without support, the nipples the size and color of ripe cherries. Her hips, though wide, were perfectly shaped. And the tangled triangle of hair at the juncture of her thighs was as inviting as any such bramble Fargo had ever seen.

“Well?” Molly said, pulling her hands on her hips and striking a pose. “Had yourself a good look?”

Fargo nodded. “Even better than I expected.”

“Then you’d better show me how much you like it.”

Fargo hurriedly took off his own clothing. His rod stood out stiff as a fireplace poker.

“Seems you must like it quite a bit,” Molly said with a grin. “Judging by the size of that thing, you ought to be man enough to handle me; but if you are, you’ll be one of the few.”

“I guess we’ll find out about that,” Fargo said, walking over to her and letting the hot tip of his penis touch her stomach.

Molly reached for it and encircled it with her hand. She pulled him to her, pressing his hardness against her.

“That’s as hot as a pistol barrel after a good fight,” she said.

Fargo put his arms around her and pulled her closer, letting her feel the entire hot, hard length of him. Her breasts were soft as cotton, but they engorged and grew firmer as he held her. As they did, the tips stiffened and enlarged.

“Mmmmmm,” Molly said, and Fargo kissed her.

He didn’t have to bend to do it. She was nearly as tall as he was, and she joined the kiss with enthusiasm. Their tongues dueled for a moment, and Fargo found himself being dragged to the bed. Molly fell back on it, pulling him down on top of her. It wasn’t a hard fall, cushioned as it was by her prodigious breasts.

She hugged him to her and kissed him again. Fargo let his hand wander to the mound between her legs, and his fingers entangled themselves in the crisply curling hairs. She pushed her ample hips back at the gentle pressure of his hand, and he let his finger slip into the soft cleft, already slick from her juices. He ran the tip of his finger over her moistened mound, and Molly’s whole body spasmed with pleasure, so much so that his finger slipped inside her without any effort of his own part. As soon as it was inside, Molly clamped on it, and she rocked her hips wildly. She broke the kiss and started to whoop.

“YeeeeeHaaaaaaw! YeeeeeHaaaaaw!”

Fargo hadn’t thought she’d be a screamer. He hoped there was no one any closer than Rip Johnson’s house, or their sleep was going to be seriously disturbed. If Molly got any louder, she might even wake up Tom Talley.

After a couple of seconds, Molly lay still. She said, “Damn, Fargo. You could teach these farmers around here a thing or two, I’ll tell you that.”

“I hope that wasn’t all you wanted from me,” Fargo said with a grin.

“You’re damn right it wasn’t. We’re just getting started. Now, why don’t you sit up.”

Fargo wasn’t quite sure what she wanted him to do, but with a little help and coaxing, he figured it out. He sat astraddle of her on her stomach, and she held her breasts invitingly, her hands cupped on the sides.

“Stick it between them,” she said. “I’d like to feel it rubbing them.”

Fargo did as she asked, letting his throbbing shaft slide in between the soft mounds, so lightly slicked with sweat. Molly pressed them around him and said, “Pump it.”

Fargo slid his penis into the crevice as far as he could and then withdrew it.

Molly gasped. “Faster,” she said, and fondled her nipples, which seemed to grow even larger. “Faster.”

Fargo obliged her. Her head tossed and her eyes closed. Fargo reached behind him and found the tangled triangle again. His finger slid easily down the wet track and into the hot honey hole that waited there.

Molly’s mouth came open as she rocked under him.

“YeeeeHaaaaaaw! YeeHaw! YeeHaw! YeeHaw!”

She was flouncing so much that she nearly threw Fargo off and onto the floor. He was worried that Talley’s bed wouldn’t be able to take the punishment, but it help up until Molly was still again.

“You’re even better than you look,” Molly said finally. “But you’re not getting as much out of this as I am.”

“You might be surprised,” Fargo said.

“I don’t think so, but here’s a surprise for you.”

Fargo’s lance was still pushed up between her breasts, and Molly leaned her head forward to take the tip of it in her mouth. She nursed and tongued it vigorously while rubbing her hands over her distended nipples. Fargo leaned back a bit and worked his finger between her legs.

She stopped her work and said breathlessly, “If you don’t quit that, I’m not going to be able to finish you.”

“I have an idea,” Fargo said. “Let’s both finish.”

“That sounds mighty fine. Give it to me. Hurry.”

Fargo slid down her ample frame until he was positioned between her legs. She was spread out invitingly, knees bent, hips already moving in anticipation, and he bent forward to take a nipple in his mouth. Each time he sucked it, she quivered.

“That feels wonderful,” she said, “but you’d better—ahhhh!—get inside me. I can’t wait much—ahhh!—longer.”

Fargo didn’t keep her waiting. He shoved inside all the way in one smooth stroke and lodged himself there. He felt her inner walls rippling around him, closing on him as they had on his finger. He waited for a moment, then started a slow slide out.

After a few leisurely strokes, he sped up, and Molly threw her legs around him, locking her ankles, urging him to go faster, faster.

Soon they were rocking together in such a frenzy that the bed began to bang against the wall, and Fargo thought it might break right on through.

There wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it, however. He felt a tremendous pressure building in him. It seemed to start in his toes and work its way all the way up his legs, which tightened like a bowstring.”

“Please!” Molly said. “Please give it to me. Now! Now!”

Fargo gave it to her. In one last lunge he thrust into her as far as he could go as Molly screamed with joy.

“YeeeeeeeeeeeeeeHaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw!”

There were a few more screams, and when she finally subsided, they lay on the bed until their breathing returned to normal.

“My God, Fargo,” Molly said. “I never knew anything could be like that. I don’t guess there’s any chance of you settling down and being a farmer, is there.”

“That’s not my line,” Fargo said.

“I knew that. Too bad. You’re going to miss out on a lot. And so am I.”

“I told you these fellas around here didn’t know what they were missing.”

“I knew you were right. I just didn’t know how right.”

“Maybe if you gave one of them a chance, he’d do you some good.”

“I doubt that any of them cares about a chance, except maybe for Rip Johnson, and he’s as bad as a goat. He’d try for anybody or anything, but I don’t mess with married men. Besides, on his best day he couldn’t give me as good as what I just had. But maybe I ought not to be so choosy. A woman can get mighty lonesome living all by herself. I’d been wanting to do that a long time. None of the boneheads around here seemed likely to make an offer, though. They were too busy wishing that tiny little Abby Watkins would give them a tumble, which she never did for a one of them, not until Jed came along. And now that she’s available again, nobody’s going to give me a second look.”

“Then they’re crazy,” Fargo said.

“I thank you for that. And for what we just did.”

“The pleasure was mine,” Fargo said. “Maybe not all of it, but plenty.”

“I’m glad Murray wasn’t here, and we could use the bed. Otherwise I might’ve had to get you back to Lem’s and drag you down in that hayloft. Hay can be mighty itchy.”

Fargo said that was the truth, and then they heard the first gunshots.