Montana Gold

Foremost was the gold he had already begun to stash away. That really kept him busy.

"Those bastards are so stupid, they'll never realize that I can hide this stuff someplace beside the flatlands between Bannack and Virginia City," he talked to himself and his horse as he rode into the sparsely wooded hill country north and west of the town. He arrived at the old place half underground and hidden in the scrub trees and bushes, pushed aside the overhanging brush, and slipped inside the old mine shaft.

Plummer removed several sacks of nuggets, flakes and coins from his saddlebags and secreted them inside an old government ammunition crate that once had transported the Army's heavy .45-70 Government ammunition.

As with all thieves, he was suspicious of everyone, but he had a young woman, an actual relative he had discovered in the camp, with whom he had begun a sexual relationship. He told her about his stash 'up there' because he trusted her; he actually seemed to care about another human being, and didn't want to leave her destitute in case something happened to him. Not the exact location mind you, but enough so that she could find it with a little help if she needed it.

Plummer opened several bank accounts under false names and identified by numbers...just for the fun of it. He had no faith in banks, but he planned to squirrel away a lot of money in them. These people were all so damned dumb, they'd never figure him to bank it!

The largest portion of his robberies, however, he hid in the other place, on the hill, in the scrub woods in the opposite direction from what anyone would expect. On a piece of paper he spelled out a number of clues for the location in case Joanna got confused. Not enough to tell anyone else anything. But she was different.

He scribbled the hints in longhand on a small piece of office paper. They looked like he was trying to write some doggerel poetry.

"'Windy, dry places are the most peaceful.'

'Never thought I'd leave the trail for barren spots.'

'If only I had a couple of hours to set things right...one way or the other.'

'Into the darkness, sloping to my gun hand.'

'Trash all around the dark little piles.' "

He explained the meaning once to her when neither was drunk. Only once. But Joanna understood. She hid the scrap in an old picture frame behind a tintype photo of her mother and Henry Plummer and forgot about it.

More than a century passed as the small piece of paper, now yellowed with age despite remaining in darkness, lay undiscovered in its hiding place. The picture along with a few pitiful other items passed to a daughter who then gave it to her own child.

This girl would marry a miserable piece of white trash just like Henry Plummer, and just like Plummer, he would abuse her.

It seems that bastards live forever and they all have twelve brothers.

_ _ _ _ _

Bruce Daily was a sleaze...he'd always been one and cheerfully accepted the fact. He'd been one in the Army where nearly everyone else hated him. But he had one endearing trait to the Army and to his NCO's...Daily was a sniper, one of their best, probably the best.

Once his affinity for shooting was demonstrated, His Confederate commander had equipped him with a Sharps Model 1859 breech-loading rifle to which Daily had mounted on the left side of the receiver a long telescope sight. He had also had the unit weapons sergeant cut six inches off the barrel and modify the stock to make it easier to carry. His weapon fired a .52 caliber Minié ball round, a bullet that made a hideous wound. Daily had several times proven his ability to kill Union troops at distances of more than 900 yards.

Some of these memories dusted his thoughts as he shifted his weight and found a more comfortable rest for the rifle in the crotch of a dead bush. The kid he had decided to kill just for the hell of it was due around the curve of the trail slightly below his position and 600 yards out. That would be easy. Plummer hadn't told him to murder this young man, but he always believed in keeping the opposition off balance and afraid; Daily assumed that since most people on this road carried gold or valuables, this one did, too. And besides, killing was so much damned fun!

Fifteen minutes later the popular young man rounded the bend in the trail. Daily moved his rifle slightly to the right to get a firing angle with his side-mounted scope. The cross hairs settled over the head of his target. With his calculated bullet drop, he'd make a lower body-mass hit; this one ought to do it.

He took up the tiny amount of slack, breathed, pressed the trigger and felt the simultaneous explosion and kick of his weapon.

The large round struck the rider slightly below midsection. It didn't blow him off his horse; bullets didn't do that. Rather, the rider slumped, then dropped off the horse like a 40-pound bag of corn. Daily put another round into the body where it lay, then rose, dusted away the signs of his firing position and went down to check the body for gold. There was nothing on the crumpled form. It had been his usual good shot.

He rode back to report.

_ _ _ _ _

Preston Kirk burst into the saloon, interrupting the mayor's town meeting. As usual, Sheriff Henry Plummer wasn't present, not because he had real business to do, but because he thought them a waste of time.

"Okay, dammit, somebody passed my place a while ago, don't know who, but he told me about a shooting on the trail not far past the creek. I went to look, and it's Charlie Wells. We all liked that boy...he ain't done nuthin' but help us here, and you-know-who had him killed. It's long past time somebody killed that summbitch!"

"I haven't said anything about this yet for obvious reasons," said a strong voice from the back of the room, "but there's a meeting tomorrow night for interested folks from here, Nevada City and Virginia City...people who are no longer willing to trust corrupt law enforcement. It's the old rule, 'If you want to get it done right, do it yourself.'"

To a man they turned to see the speaker. He was weather-beaten, solidly built and had the expression of a quiet forcefulness. "You folks want to be a part of this, see me after the meeting. This sort of trash and danger has gone on far too long. Let's put a stop to it now!" He sat down.

A crescendo of, "Hell, yeah...let's do it!" "Right on target. It's high time," and, "Let's just kill the bastards and be done with it!" resounded throughout the room.

"Yeah, and let's start with Plummer!"

"Hey, hey...wait a minute! He put up that mile-high hangman's frame beside the jail. Let's hang him on that!"

"Good idea, Bobbie. Wish I'd thoughta that," spoke up a quiet prospector who ordinarily didn't say anything unless it was forced out of him.

Chapter 6

Settling the Score

That night the men formed a vigilance committee identified by a peculiar set of numbers, "3-7-77." Shortly after that meeting hooded and masked riders first visited known and suspected members of 'The Innocents' to warn them; they posted skull-and-bones posters around town, and on some of the flyers was the cryptic number set '3-7-77.'

After these actions the hangings began. The central group of the vigilance committee was actually split on whether Sheriff Plummer was part of the murderous rampage against miners, but patience and reason were long dead. Mercy would reappear only after vengeance had run its course.

One night after having gotten loaded enough to do dirty work without the whisperings of caution and conscience, the group decided that Plummer was guilty and set out to track him down. The sheriff figured the citizens of the tri-city area too stupid to do anything except cower in fear, but this time his ability to read other people failed him.

The crowd located him on a cold January 10 of 1864 in the waning days of the American Civil War. This time Plummer and two other captured deputies, Ned Ray and Buck Stinson, realized they were in mortal danger; time proved just how right they were.

The angry crowd hauled the three cursing men to the gallows Plummer had proudly built months before. One by one the group clubbed the three, dragged each to one of three long ropes dangling through pulleys, and rammed the heavy noose over his head. An ominous silence fell over the group as three appointed hangmen hauled first the two deputies into the darkening sky, the pulleys creaking and squealing on weathered shafts. Curses turned to gurgles, faces discolored in the twilight, bodies twitched, and then they were still.

The crowd saved Henry Plummer for last. No one spoke accusations, there were no pronouncements of judgment. Just before the hangmen hauled him skyward, Plummer, in a last desperate effort, said, "You men...God, help me! ...I can make you rich. You let me down and give me a horse...in two hours I can bring you enough gold to make all of you rich men!"

But Henry Plummer was out of time and very shortly to be out of life in this world.

"Nice try, Sheriff, but no cigar!" yelled a voice in the crowd.

"Reckon there's anything to what he said?" asked one of those who would pull Plummer up to the crossbar.

"Hell...him? That lying' piece of shit? Not likely."

"Get on with it," directed the leader.

His three executioners bent to their work with satisfaction. Plummer, hands tied behind him, whipped up to the crossbar and swung there. His struggles subsided and in the silence a breeze sprang up, twisting the body in semi-circles. Finally, his corpse hung motionless in the frigid night air. Several men with Winchesters guarded the body for an hour after the hanging, then they, too went home. The corpses hung there all night.

The next day a few men and the undertaker took them down, and Plummer was boxed for burial. The disposal team bypassed the town cemetery and planted him in a shallow grave in Hangman's Gulch not far up a draw. The bodies of Plummer's deputies were tossed into the dirt in contempt.

No one remembered Joanna and even fewer would care about her distant relative.

Chapter 7

Frisky Along the Way

Hayden and Parker sped northward through Alabama and Tennessee, stopping long enough to use tickets for the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville that Mark had bought for them. In that venue where not a whole lot grabbed the attention of those in attendance, Parker in a short and form-fitting red jersey dress managed to create a disturbance.

She was stunning with her glossy black hair cascading down her back in contrast to the extremely low-cut red jersey dress cut back severely from beneath her arms to a collar around her neck. It bared most of her breasts front and side, not quite uncovering her nipples, but they were so prominent that she may as well have been topless. Without the stay-up embroidered hose she had worn before with this outfit, her smooth, tanned legs and hairy upper thighs were clearly visible. The lush dark hair beneath her arms she displayed with pride after she removed her knit white sweater.

Her escort, a powerful yet handsome young man with an enviable mane of reddish-gold hair, drew the attention of those who stared at them. He was obviously younger than she, yet something in his bearing, build and eyes spoke of a maturity and latent strength. Throughout the entire show the pair drew the envying, lustful stares of those around them.

The miles sped by, the sights fascinated them as the comfortable Peterbilt performed flawlessly, and they reached the North Dakota Badlands. Hayden noted the increasing smoothness of the transmission as he found occasion to run through low and high ranges in shifting the eighteen-speed.

Along the way they had grown more deeply attached to each other, laughing, making love, touching each other intimately before others, and stopping to walk at overlooks and waystations.

Parker managed to thoroughly scandalize those who had also made stops for food, to stretch and for restroom breaks. Denims and boots with gauzy tops tied beneath her great breasts, skin-tight sweaters over open-tip bras and extremely short shorts that bared almost a third of her bottom, and short, short denim jumpers with tops that she could not button because she was so large all made for memorable occasions. Whenever she sat, of course, the skirts hid almost nothing.

Quite a number of tourists boldly asked her if they could take pictures. Others were obvious as they hung around the couple, waiting for Parker to bend over or sit down and part her legs at a table. Rarely did she fail to get reactions to her hairy upper thighs and the dark mass of her pussy fur revealed by the skirts.

Several men and women remarked to Hayden that they had seen him in the Beautiful Men feature and all of them complimented him on the erotic displays and asked for his autograph. A few were familiar with the PRISM erotic website and had enjoyed his experiences with Mark and Eric. These attentions greatly aroused him and his gypsy.

Early on their fifth day of travel Hayden and Parker reached Bannack State Park, Montana. They drove into the park to register as campers, wondering if their large rig would arouse suspicion or too much curiosity, but their concerns were groundless. The area was extremely large, there were no "hard stands" where campers with children would hook up; rather, this entire area of the park was wilderness that was controlled but not altered.

A perfect location for their purposes. And definitely one for casual sunning and the other sensuous activities they intended to perform in the open.

After selecting a spot to locate the Peterbilt that would permit unobstructed surveillance of the surrounding terrain, Hayden and Parker left the truck and passed the rest of the day relaxing, then preparing for the evening.

"Hayden, honey, I am really whipped. Will you make supper for us, please? I want to list some things I believe we ought to do to be really prepared for this job."

"Glad to, gypsy girl," he replied with a tired smile. "Include in your thinking our need to both familiarize ourselves with this area and what we should do to check in with the locals. We need to build relationships even though we'll be here only a month."

"All right, beautiful Golden Boy. God, Hayden, you really are a snake charmer! Just looking at you and thinking about being here with you gets me steamy. Everything about you gets me steamy! Nobody has this effect on me the way you do."

Chapter 8

Securing the Campsite

One of the character traits Hayden appreciated about Parker was her self-motivation, her ability to see what had to be done and set about carrying her weight without asking him, "What do you want me to do next?" That sort of juvenility became very old very quickly on someone in charge.

Hayden pulled out of one storage locker ten small, oddly shaped and dark green items that looked for all the world like miniature duffel bags, each with a three-inch antenna. These he placed under shrubbery, fifty yards out, on all sides of the camper. The tiny sensors talked to the electronic system monitored inside the truck. They picked up vibrations in the ground caused by living creatures, distinguishing between human-caused disturbance and those of other animals.

Parker, meanwhile, climbed the ladder on the left side of the truck several yards behind the driver's seat. Once on the roof she plugged four small dish antennas, one at each corner of the cabin, into a socket recessed into the metal and firmly secured them. From a distance they were nearly invisible. These provided an external view of the terrain 360 degrees around their camper in all types of weather.

Once their preparations were completed, the two went inside for the night to bathe and enjoy the evening.

Hayden made supper, stir-fried steak with onions, and mushrooms, white shoepeg corn, and spinach casserole with rice pudding for dessert. About the time he was ready to serve it, Parker appeared. As usual, she jolted him with her dark beauty and sensuous appearance. She had brushed out her long hair until it curled heavily about her face; she wore a filmy, short, sleeveless nightie that fell only to her waist, sandals, and nothing else. Her tanned legs glistened smoothly up to her upper thighs where her dense growth of hair began. Her entire pussy, abdomen, her round bottom and anal cleft were covered with a jet black growth of long, soft hair that duplicated her generous bed of underarm fur.

Parker's romance gypsy heritage was plainly visible in her sensuous attire for her lover. Hayden stopped and almost dropped a plate of steak and vegetables at the sight of his woman.

"Parker...you are simply gorgeous." He set down the plate and moved to embrace this vision.

"Do you approve, Golden Boy?" she whispered hoarsely.

"Do you really have to ask, Gypsy?" He enfolded her and plunged his tongue into her mouth. She responded with heat, caressing his mouth with her own, bathing him in her juices and moaning softly.

"God, Hayden, how can I eat supper when I want you!"

"You get me for post-dessert...after the rice pudding... And all night long. For now, beautiful woman, let's eat. We've worked hard and tomorrow we start scouting this area and getting to know some of the people around here."

She stood back, shook her torso, jostling her breasts furiously, and raised her arms above her head. She always got her boy when she showed off her underarm forests.

"Not looking...not looking," he laughed as he served her when she sat down at the table. "You don't if I look down your top when I serve you, do you?" he snickered.

"Hayden, Angel, I expect it. And you know that it makes me hot when people do it as we go out in public. I hope it doesn't trouble you for me to enjoy that."

"Hah! Watching you expose yourself and seeing others stare at you makes me hot. I know you're mine. I'm aroused by the fact that you get steamy doing so, and then you take it out on me. How blessed can one guy be?"

"I'll say this and then we can talk about tomorrow. I am so in love with you Hayden. I treasure the fact that you are younger than I am. I know I'm married to Mark, but both of us want you and me to do this. We are one, Hayden. You own me...and I own you. Nothing is off-limits for us.

"I may as well tell you this, too: I want a ring from you, Hayden, and at some wonderful time in our near future I want you to make me pregnant. I want you to make me pregnant before Mark does."

He stared at her for a moment, then answered softly, "Gypsy, 'yes' to each of those wonderful things. I didn't realize you felt this intensely. You amaze me. I am dangerously in love with you, Parker Scott."

"Good!" she said brightly as she devoured her meal. "This is delicious. Is there anything you can't do, Golden Boy?"

"Okay, okay, dark and gorgeous wench. I think we first ought to take the Road Runners out to scout this entire area. For breaks, let's go into Bannack, Virginia City and that little town we passed, stop in at some cafes and lounges and meet some of the people. If we listen to conversations we'll learn a lot about things around here."

"Annnnd," mumbled his lover through a mouthful of steak and vegetables, "I can enjoy a bit of freedom from our hard labor here day and night." Her dark eyes twinkled with sexual innuendo.

"Yeah, I know what that means. You're braless, you're going to wear some skimpy tops and maybe even show off that beautiful fur of yours with itty-bitty skirts, and you're going to scandalize so many people around here that we'll never be able to get anything done in secret!"

"You DO know me after all, beautiful boy!" she crowed with laughter. How she adored this gift in her life, so young, so strong and wise and protective, and a delight to be with.