Only three lamps still burned down there, but the compound was clear. The sight that greeted Fargo shocked him, and he wasn’t a person who was easily shocked.
The entire stable was gone, with dark shapes that must be dead horses scattered everywhere. Fargo felt bad about the loss of good livestock, but in this case it couldn’t be helped.
The bunkhouse was mostly gone. Except for a front wall, only a large pile of twisted and torn timber remained.
The big house had no windows left in the front at all. They had all been blown inward by the blast.
“Anyone come out of any of those buildings?” Fargo asked.
“Nope,” Hank said. “They pulled one from the bunkhouse, but he’s still lying down there in the open and I’m bettin’ he’s dead. No one has come out of the big house.”
“So you haven’t seen Kip or either of the Brants?”
“Kip came out of the big house just before the blast you set off, then went back inside. No one has seen him since.”
Fargo nodded. “They’re still waiting for their help to arrive. How many gunhands do you think are left down there?”
“Maybe ten at most,” Hank said, “not counting Kip or the Brants. But we’ve only seen the six guards on duty. No one has relieved them so far.”
“Okay,” Fargo said, pushing himself back from the edge and standing. “Keep your men switching off and fresh. Keep pounding them, and take no chances. Check in with Jim on the main road once in a while.”
Hank nodded. “Where are you going?”
“I have an errand to run in town,” he said, heading down the hill toward the stable. “I’ll be back in the morning to clean up the mess down there. Just make sure no one goes out of or into that compound until I get back.”
He headed down the hill toward the stable and his big Ovaro. Thirty minutes later, after checking in with Jim and the men at the entrance to the Brant mine, he was stabling his horse in town.
He walked into the Wallace saloon and up to the bar to be greeted by the smiling face of Reg. “Was that you that rattled my bottles a while back?”
Fargo returned the smile. “Just Henry Brant having a little mine accident. Is our fair boss around at this late hour?”
Reg tipped his head toward her office. “I doubt she was going to sleep much tonight.”
Fargo tapped the bar as a thank-you. “That problem is going around.”
He knocked lightly on Anne’s door, then pushed it slowly open when she said, “Come in.”
She was sitting at her desk, a pair of reading glasses on her nose. She pushed them down and said, “Yes?” without turning.
He closed the door behind him and said, “I hope all the explosions aren’t keeping you up.”
She spun around, beaming. “Skye!”
A moment later she was in his arms, kissing him hard and fast. Just about the time he was hoping that her kissing him would never end, it did. She held him at arm’s length and said, “Now what have you been up to? That explosion knocked plaster off of some of my ceilings.”
“It seems that Henry Brant had a little more dynamite in his shed than we thought he did,” Fargo said, grinning.
“How did you—? Never mind, don’t tell me. You can fill me in on everything when all this is over. I’m assuming it’s not over yet.”
“It’s not,” he said. “I just wanted to check on you, make sure you were all right, and get a little rest. The men of Sharon’s Dream are doing a great job defending their mine. And Brant and his people don’t know yet that help isn’t coming, so they’re not going anywhere. At least not until tomorrow morning after I tell them.”
She kissed him hard, then said, “Good. Follow me. Are you hungry?”
“Nope. Just tired.”
She led him quickly down the back hallway and up the back staircase to her room.
“Lock and bolt the door,” she said as she went to draw the drapes and turn the lamp down even lower than it was.
As he finished with the locks, she turned him around and started undressing him, first undoing every button on his shirt, then pulling his undershirt over his head. Then she had him sit down and she worked on pulling off his boots, then his britches.
Before he knew it, he was sitting on the edge of her bed completely naked, his manhood thrusting up into the air.
She took hold of him, rubbing gently, and said, “I thought you were tired.”
“For a beautiful woman who just undressed me, not that tired.”
She laughed and stepped back, working quickly to undress herself right in front of him. This time she made no tease of anything, just went about the business of shedding her dress and undergarments, laying them on the chair by the window to hang up later.
There was something hypnotic about watching a beautiful woman undress, especially if there was the promise of a roll in the hay to follow.
When she turned from laying out her dress and started toward him, he felt his entire body tense. He took her all in, from the smooth skin on her neck to the large brown nipples to the thick patch of fine brown hair between her legs. Everything about her just fit together.
She came into his arms and kissed him hard. “Let me do the work,” she whispered. “Just sit there.”
She turned around and settled on his lap like he was a chair. He reached up and put his arms around her, holding her breasts gently in both hands.
“I’m supposed to do the work, remember?”
“A fella’s got to have something to hang on to, doesn’t he?”
She laughed and then her hand expertly guided him inside her.
She settled there for a moment; then with a loud sigh, she lifted up slightly and then settled back down again.
The sensation of her body holding him, sitting on him, was almost more than Fargo could bear. He slowly rubbed her breasts as she went up and down again.
And then again, letting him slide easily in and out of her while her juices flowed down his manhood, coating him.
He helped lift her on the next motion and then let go, letting her drop down on him a little harder.
The movement made her gasp and after that she increased the pace and he joined her, helping to lift her gently with her breasts while rubbing them, then dropping her again onto his ramrod-hard shaft.
He could tell that they were both getting closer and closer as they pounded again and again, slamming their private parts together.
He let his hands drop to her hips and slip under her buttocks as she lifted up again. He took over after that, lifting her, letting her go, lifting her, letting her go, faster and faster and faster.
And then she said, very intently, “Yes!”
She squeezed him tight as she reached her peak and a moment later he filled her, seeming to turn himself inside out into her womanhood.
They sat there together for a long moment, both of them trying to catch their breath.
Then slowly he softened and slipped out of her.
She stood and pushed him back on the bed.
He fell flat on his back, totally drained, looking up at her flushed face and beautiful body.
“Get under those covers and get some sleep, mister,” she said. “I’ll wake you at sunrise.”
He did as she ordered, because he had learned over the years that when a naked woman tells you to do something, it’s best to just do it.
The next thing he knew, she was nudging him gently. “Skye, it’s almost dawn.”
He opened one eye and looked at her. Her hair was mussed and she had a pillow mark on one side of her face, but she still looked radiant and beautiful.
“Thanks.”
With a gentle peck on her cheek, he rolled out of the soft, warm bed and into the cold air of the room. He glanced out through the drapes. She was right— the sun was just starting to color the sky and he could hear a couple of roosters crowing.