Winding Creek Pt. 07 - Power

Linda Jean Blake slow rocked in the porch swing, knitting in her swollen lap as she once again searched the damp, fast-coming darkness. Shades of sunset peekt through the breakin' clouds giving her several more long minutes of light to search for her husband's return. She looked at Luke's plain Walker Colt that lay on the small table between her n his empty chair on the porch; exactly where Lucas had left it. She was afraid of that gun n what it all represented.

She almost wished he 'd left it where it were tucked away since takin' to the gun he had made special for her father. The gift to her father was prettier but killed the same way. She thought of how that pistol looked, twinklin' in the sun as it rested on his hip n the polished steel flash it made as he drew: then belching flame n black smoke it spit when he fired.

That gun showt just how much Lucas had changed.

Like the fancy gun, he was prettier now. Dressed up. He was seldom without the black frock coat, linen shirt n soft shinin' boots. His way with words were different when he spoke to the Judge or when he talked with plain folks; his words to her lay somewhere between. The tall, slender boy with the unkept hair was mostly gone now. The pasture green eyes that always showed patience n wonderment n love were seen less n less.

She knew the hard look carved inta his face this afternoon... The palest of green in his eyes. She'd seen it when he left for Winding Creek after near two n a half years gone from the family. He never even said hello to Mama or J.D., just rode off doin' what he felt he needet to be done. She'd prayed she never see that look again. Yet here she were, afraid of all the what ifs...

Tiffany Ann was hidin' in her room, the music box playin' the Silent Night hymn over n over. It'd not been heard since the first night Lucas had gifted it to her, n then only once. She wrapped it up tight and hid it in her wardrobe on the top shelf. No one askt her n she never said, yet today after her ride with Lucas, it were almost constant. She'd come out of her room just once to ask where the three men were ridin' off too, then disappeared into her room again...

Stephen 'Quick' Bennett set in the shadows of the porch, J.D.'s long gun cradled against his chest n outta sight. Linda knew without seein' the other three hands were settin' wherever Smoke had told to them to in times of trouble. Lucas swore there were none comin' to the ranch: promised her twice as he kissed her on the cheek before steppin' off the porch n joinin' Smoke n the new arrival, Jacob Russell. There were no words explainin'. There were none needed...

"More tea?"

Luna had seen the Padrone when he left the house; had seen Smoke's hard set jaw n his frightful blazin' black eyes. She took special note of the unease in the horses as the men filled their saddles n rode off. She immediately gathered the necessaries for a calmin' tea, brewed it n made sure both the Blake women had a cup.

"More tea would be most appreciated."

The Padrones wife looked up at Luna, her near black eyes fillt with worry.

"Thank you Luna."

The tall woman crossed the porch n run the tips of her fingers over Linda's hair.

"Hee willl be fine Linda Jean."

The concerned wife rose and looked at Luna. The taller woman softly kissed her, then folded her into her arms.

"Of theese I am sure..."

*

Joe Tinker n his son Joel rolled Buck Michael's into the burlap that they'd cut n layered on the slow muddyin' street. Lucas had tole'em the dead men weren't worth good canvas 'er a coffin like most that died in Winding Creek with no family. The ladies of Winding Creek would insist their graves be marked, but not in the small graveyard near the church. There were only eight there now: their graves marked, all considered good citizens of the town when they passt.

Joe weren't clear as to why he n 'is son had been charged with collectin' the dead men. All that mattered was Lucas Blake tolt 'em do it, then to leave all five in the buck board covered from the rain until it were decided what were to be done next. They quick lifted the last body n placed it with the others before headin' back towards the livery to where Patch n Rojo had already been stripped, curried n fed even before they collected the bodies that'd been dragged out of the Nail n dropped inta the street...

*

Lucas Blake, Smoke Garcia n Jacob Russell set together near the eatery door, backs ag'in the wall and their weapons reloaded. Smokes flint lock long gun were standin' behind 'em... All three of their pistols were on the table.

A crystal decanter and the near empty matchin' glasses found in Irish Mike's room sparkled on the fancy red bed cover now decoratin' the table in front of 'em. The eatery had been closed up tight by Helga n her husband Fritz. (Fritz saw to the hotel mostly). Luke had told 'em they'd still have jobs if they wanted 'em. The craps dealer were told the same, only he'd have the day off n to see Lucas tomorrow afternoon...

Jacob had secured the double doors twixt the hotel n the now empty Rusty Nail. Two of the three whores were still cleaning the Nail. One where Buck Michaels were slammed into the wall n then fell over the railin' dead, the other inside the bat wing doors. The last, Sally Tart had already finished scrubbin' the blood behind the bar, replaced the damaged liquor bottles n waited quietly at the opposite end of the bar.

Jacob were, on occasion, admirin' the best lookin' of the three. He turned his eyes away from the comely woman n lookt in the bottom of the near empty glass in his hand.

"Think it's done Lucas?"

"For the most part. There's no reason for any others to try anythin' with McCarthy n most of his sent to hell."

"Stoowart... Nellsun Padrone?"

"They were part of it, but you said your own self they weren't in on tryin' to kill me. Fair is fair my friend."

The Spainard nodded his head. Jacob wondered but didn't ask. The silence lingered with the long shadows that were slow turnin' dark. The rain had stopped n the sky were slowly clearin'.

"Miss Tart."

The prettiest of the three whores', her flamin' scarlet hair hair pinned up n wearing her plain calico dress closed the distance twixt her n Lucas n tried to smile.

"Y-yes Sir."

"I'd like you to go to Bill Nelson's. Tell 'im I need to see 'im. Then stop at the livery n ask Tinker to get Nelson's horse saddled n then brung here."

She lookt hard at Lucas. He half smiled as he looked back.

"If either man gives ya any guff, any back talk at all, ask 'im if they'd rather have Mr. Garcia here ask 'em."

A wide smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

"Thank you, Mr. Blake."

N she were gone, not even going to her room for the black n blue shawl she most always wore outside the Nail. Lucas picked up the decanter to refill the three glasses: Smoke's first n then Jacobs. He paused before refilling his own.

"Jacob... May I ask why you tied inta this?"

The red shirted man smiled.

"It was that wife of yours Lucas. I came wantin' to take advantage of your offer. But Miss Linda treated me with kindness n said how you respected my work... N more important, how you thought of me as a man. Then when Miss Tiffany greeted me pretty much the same..."

He shrugged his shoulders. Lucas refilled his own glass.

"Thank you."

Smoke lookt at the red shirted man n slow nodded his head.

"Meester Russell."

"Jacob, please."

Smoke Garcia lookt at Lucas n after seein' his answer, offered 'is hand...

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Bill Nelson rode toward the Blake ranch as quick as he could. McCarthy's favored whore, Sally Tart, had come to his door even after the Mercantile had been closed up n the shades drawn down tite. All the shootin' in the Rusty Nail had Bill steppin' out of the front door n then back inside when he saw Patch n Smoke Garcia's horse saddled n wet in front of the Nail. There were two more shots, almost soundin' as one 'fore Edith joined 'im in pullin' down the oil cloth shades.

"I told you there'd be hell to pay Bill. You should've known better."

"Hush woman."

Edith Nelson's shoulders n face drew up tight.

"You'll not talk that way to me William Nelson."

He spun around to the face his wife.

"I rode with that man near two days Edith, lookin' for the sheriffs' killers."

"N what did it git you."

"Some peace of mind."

"N damn little else."

A stormy silence lay hard between them fer a very long hour n then some until there was harsh knockin' at their door. Bill Nelson peeked outside n then smootht his salt n pepper hair before slow openin' the door.

"Y-yes Sally."

Edith crowded close n then spat at her husband.

"What's that whore want William!"

Sally's soft smile faded, her green eyes narrowin'.

"Mr. Blake has asked that you come to the Nail Bill."

"Bill! Just who does she thin..."

Bill Nelson turnt n slapped his wife. Hard. Then turnin' back to Sally, forced a smile.

"I-I'll be there directly."

Sally Tart smiled sweetly.

"You mite ask your wife if she'd prefer Smoke Garcia to ask for your presence."

She then turned on her heel n moved quickly toward the livery. Bill Nelson stepped past his still open-mouthed wife to gather his coat n hat...

*

The conversation had been short, near orders, twixt Bill n Lucas Blake. He told 'im he were to ride out to the ranch to let Linda Jean know he, Smoke n Jacob were just fine. They'd be stayin' the night in town. Mr. Bennett were still to accompany Mrs. Sifuentes to town n they should meet 'im at the hotel.

Bill Nelson had kept his mouth mostly shut.

"I'll fetch my horse..."

"There's no need for that. Tinker is bringin' yur horse as soon as it's ready to ride. You mite want to take the outhouse lantern with you. It'll keep you from gettin' killt when you get close to the ranch."

Smoke Garcia lookt hard at him.

"Youu lite lantern far away from house. Make suure men can seee youu. Youu tell them the Padrone sent youu. When day askt question, youu say youu have messige for blooo birt."

Jacob Russell glanced up at the now ashen man with his face drawn n hands tremblin'.

"That's sound advice mister."

Bill Nelson nodded his head. Lucas stared a hole between the man's eyes.

"The widow Sifuentes is a guest at my home Bill. She has my blessin' to use my account for anything she mite need. Your wife will treat her with the same respect as she does my wife n Miss Tiffany."

Luke paused for a moment to taste his liquor, his eyes never leavin' Bill Nelson.

"Mr. Bennett will be representin' me until further notice. I expect he'll have no problem opening his own personal account at the mercantile."

Bil couldn't find his voice n just nodded.

"You can wait outside Bill."

The terrified man started for the door.

"Doon't forget youur lantern Nellsun."...

*

Stoppin' several hundred yards away from the Blake home, Bill Nelson lit the candle in the small lantern he carried. Keepin' the flickerin' light high above his shoulder, he started once more. Less then a hundred yards away, a voice broke the spotty darkness.

"Hold it right there."

Bill didn't need to be tolt twice.

"Staate yuur bizznees."

Those words were from another place, further right n back some.

"L-Lucas Blake sent me."

"And."

"T-to speak to blue bird."

What little lite there were dimmed a touch with a passin' cloud.

"Leave the horse there."

Bill steppt slow off his mount.

"Keep your lite high mister!"

A shadow moved closer.

"Slow n easy now. Miss Linda is settin' tha porch."

Bill could see the closer shadow had a long gun pointed in his direction as he started toward the house. It were close to the longest walk of his life. He could see the two tallow candles burnin' in the window n the light they cast over the risin' Mrs. Blake.

"Lind... er... Mrs. Blake."

"Mr. Nelson."

She stood ramrod straight, hands at her sides n expectin' the worse.

"Lucas sent me to tell ya He, Smoke n Jacob are just fine."

He saw the young woman sag just a bit before sittin'.

"Please... Have a seat."

Bill Nelson thought better of it.

"Thank you, but my wife will be wonderin'."

"Of course."

"He also said that Mrs. Sifuentes and Mr. Bennett should still come to town in the mornin' n meet him at the hotel... A-and if you would Ma'am... Let Mr. Bennett know he already has an account open at the mercantile."

The now relieved wife just nodded her head.

"I-if there's nothing else Mrs. Blake?"

Linda looked at the once arrogant man that used to sell her peppermint sticks.

"Thank you Bill. Stephen, if you'd take Mr. Nelson back to his horse, please... N tell the others to get some sleep, it's been a long nite."...

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Sally Tart looked at the tall, lean man as he moved the lace curtain to the side.

The mornin's dim first light showed the start of a new day n signalin' yet another change comin' to her life. She saw the long, puckered scars crisscrossin' Jacob Russell's back. Those scars told more about the man then she were ever to speak of. The question of if this man was mulatto was answered when he finally lowered his britches n she first saw his pecker. Long n black n iron hard. She'd of refused 'im if he weren't a friend of Lucas Blake. Even then maybe if she hadn't seen the gunplay last night.

She'd been halfway down the stairs when the roar from the eatery's door filled the room: then saw Curly Joe shot dead at this man's hand. She no more than blinked when Lucas Blake killt Mark James as he rusht in. The room quieted some, the smoke settlin' in layers when Little Mike came runnin' in with his gun drawn. Jacob n Smoke Garcia quickly ended the seventeen-year-old drifters' life. N Irish Mike, her 'benefactor' as he callt himself... Dead too.

No, refusal would not be practical.

Jacob had been gentle with her for the most part. The taste of Mike's favored whiskey stained his breath n tongue. He kissed her often after askin' how her night had been... 'Other than the shootin' n such.' When she told him she hadn't started work yet, he smilet n made the night more then it mite have been.

When they'd gotten to her room, Jacob had refilled one of the crystal glasses that were never seen outside Irish Mike's room with Mike's own favored whiskey n handed it to her.

She knew her role n playet it as she thought best.

Sippin' the expensive liquor, she held Jacobs dark green eyes over the rim for a moment before handin' it back to him. Movin' to the end of the brass bed she undid one button after the other along the center of her calico dress. Somehow her plain day dress made it more personal as she slid it off her shoulders, then let it fall to the floor. Her chamois were plain n her pale shapely legs bare. She bent at the hips to loosen her worn shoes, slow stepping out of them as she once again met his eyes. Reachin' behind her, the six small buttons were undone: the white cotton chamois slippin' off her shoulders. It were the first time his eyes left hers, movin' slowly over her bared breasts then watching them move as she bent pushin' the chamois free of her body.

"Loordy, Lordy."

Straightenin', she stepped toward him. Takin' the expensive glass, she tasted it again before wettin' the tip of her finger with the golden liquid n slow circlin' her nipple. She enjoyed the widenin' of his eyes as the sensitive areola drew up tight, makin' her rose colored nipple darken as it tightened.

She stepped closer n takin' the bottle from his hand, refilled the sparklin' glass. As she raised it to his lips, he tried holdin' her eyes as he drank a bit more 'fore takin' her wrist n guidin' the glass between them. Dippin' his own finger into the liquor, he repeated the wettin' of her other nipple. With the glass in one hand and the bottle in the other, she laid her head back. With slitted green eyes, she archt her hips against his lean, well-muscled body

"Please be kind with me Jacob."

His hand moved her face forward, his mouth covering hers, hungrily tastin' her lips n then the inside of her mouth. It were seldom that Sally would return a kiss as fervently as she did... Maybe it was the expensive liquor. Maybe it was the power Lucas had given her to speak to the men who oftin looked down on her. Or maybe it was the sound of gunfire...The smell of smoke... And seein' death firsthand.

Sally Tart was quick becomin' hot n needin' as much as she'd ever been. She wrapped her still filled hands around this man's neck n laid her body against him. His mouth began searchin' her neck n when she leant back ag'in, he attacked her breasts. She hissed her pleasure as his mouth licked n kissed the pale white flesh: gasped when he took a hardened nipple between his lips.

"Yeessss..."

His calloused hands moved her hips away n then turnin' her, drew her backside tite ag'in him. As his rough hands explored her breasts, his breath pusht past her ear.

"How long you been whorin' girl."

He cradled the firm flesh, fingers testin'.

"Four years the first time... Just eight months this time."

"First time?"

"W-when I was married."

He tugged n then stretcht her nipples.

"You whored whilst you were married?"

"I-it wasn't like you mite think Jacob."

His left hand returned to fondlin' her breast. His right slid over her quick risin' n fallin' stomach.

"My husband enjoyed seein' me with others."

Hard skinned fingers tugged at the wide n heavy tangle of rust tinted hair where her hips began to flare n run down deep between her thighs.

"Others?"

"M-men mostly. twice with a woman."

When his hand started to search lower, she steppt wider, openin' her thighs.

"Woman?"

His fingers found her damp folds n pushing the thick, tight curls away, slipt between 'em. She gasped when he found her taut pearl n started to stroke it slow up n down.

"Like that don't ya girl."

"Yess... I-I like it very much."

His left hand joined his right, same hard n rough fingers: seperatin' the curls, openin' her damp, delicate skin.

"Aahhhh..."

The tip of one finger still movin' slow up n down, the other hand findin' her wet openin'.

"What could you do... With a woman I mean."

"Mmmmmm... Same as a man mostly."

His finger circled, gatherin' the fast comin' wet, then slipped inside.

"Ohhh..."

Deeper n deeper... Then curlin' it forward.

"How'd you fuck a woman?"

She stretched her body upward, high on her toes. The long searchin' finger became two, slow circlin' inside.

"M-my fingers... M-y mouth... My pussy scissoret tight ag'in hers."

He pincht at her pearl, his wet fingers curlin' inside, rubbin' hard at that very special spot.

"Ohhh Gawwddd."

Sally Tart reached forward, hands swimmin' in the air as she searcht for the feather mattress on top of the tied tite rope under it. Jacob let her go, her hands fallin' at the beds far edge as her body trembled against it. Her pale back arched as her cream-colored hips lifted, then fell flat on the bed. Jacob Russell chuckled.

"Guess that means yur ready gal."

Steppin' back, he unbuttont his sleeves, then his shirt. The near beautiful whore

peekt at 'im over her shoulder, wettin' her red stained lips as he slid the red shirt off his shoulders. Sally's forehead wrinklt just a bit not seeing barely a hair on his chest n then followt his fingers as he loosened the catches on his britches. Jacob's eyes narrowed as he slid the wool off his hips, hard peerin' at her. Her mouth opened when he showt her 'is pecker. She glanced quick into his face n then stared at the gentle bobbin' column of coal black flesh.

"Turn over girl. I want to see that pretty face n them fine white titties."