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“No,” the doctor said, “but what if someone wants to walk into this office and kill him so that he doesn’t talk?”

“Good point,” Longarm said. “I’m glad someone is still thinking. Doc, if that happens, just excuse yourself and take a walk.”

“I will,” the doctor assured him.

Longarm nodded, and then he reloaded his gun. The doctor watched him through his bloodshot eyes, and then he shook his head and said, “If you’re going to shoot anyone else, don’t wound ‘em. I’m worn out.”

A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of Longarm’s mouth. “Doc, I’ll sure keep that in mind,” he promised as he headed back toward the U.S. Hotel.

Chapter 14

“Darlin’, how’s the shoulder feeling?” Longarm asked, closing, then locking their hotel room door behind him.

Megan motioned Longarm over to her side, and when he sat down she said, “I heard all the gunshots and I was so afraid that …”

Tears started to fill her eyes, and Longarm smiled. “As you can see, I’m just fine.”

“What happened?”

“I hunted down, shot the legs out from under, and then arrested a gunman named Jack Ramey.” Longarm took a deep breath because the rest was hard to put into words. “Ramey sneaked up behind the jail and gunned Ivan Kane and his deputy.”

Megan’s hand flew to her mouth and tears filled her eyes. “He killed them both!”

“Yeah. Ivan Kane was dying when I got to him, and he identified Ramey as the man who opened fire on them from the cell window. Ramey is well known in Bodie and he wasn’t hard to find, but he wasn’t in a mood to be arrested.”

“But he’ll hang, won’t he?”

“Damn right he will,” Longarm vowed. “If he doesn’t die of lead poisoning first. I wasn’t the only one that heard that old dying marshal shout Ramey’s name.”

Megan pulled Longarm down beside her. “I never dreamed that we’d be riding into so much death when we left Reno.”

“I told you I thought that things might get pretty rough. I sure wish that you’d never come, Megan. I’ll never forgive myself for what happened to your shoulder.”

“The shoulder will mend as good as new. And as for the scar, well, you know that it’s not my first. There’s that one on my butt cheek.”

She was smiling, and Longarm remembered that scar where a horse had bit her. “And the little one right up here,” he said, patting the soft mound of her breast.

“Yes, the one that you took such great interest in.”

Longarm chuckled and stretched out on the bed beside Megan. “I swear that this will all pass and we’ll come out of it just fine,” he told her. “I think the town is as shocked as we were when it learned about the awful way that Kane and Ward were gunned down while huddled in that jail cell.”

“Are people blaming you?”

“I’m sure that some do,” Longarm said. “And I have to admit that I’m one of them.”

“Don’t be,” Megan pleaded. “Kane and Ward were out of control. They were extorting money from the merchants. Ivan Kane knew he’d corrupted his own reputation.”

“Yes,” Longarm said, “he knew. And I’ve seen it happen all too often before. Men like that risk their lives for years and years, and when they begin to get old, slow, and a little afraid, they check their bank accounts and find that they’ve no savings. Nothing put away and no pension. At best they get turned out of office with a thank-you by the town council and a few words of gratitude by a bored mayor trying to look good before an election.”

Longarm scowled. “That’s why some lawmen go bad at the end of their careers, Megan. They’re just finally trying to take care of themselves in their old age.”

“My father hasn’t got much in savings, but he never became dishonest.”

“Your father is very special,” Longarm said.

“Did you ever get that telegram sent off to Denver asking for help?”

“No,” Longarm answered. “I was going to when all hell broke loose and I never quite got around to it.”

“I think it’s still a good idea to send it,” Megan told him. “You still need help, don’t you?”

Longarm dug a cigar out of his vest and found a match, which he ignited on his thumbnail. He rolled off the bed, extracted a bottle of whiskey from his saddlebags, and poured himself a stiff drink.

“You look tired, Custis. You look real tired. Why don’t you come to bed with me.”

“Can’t. Not yet.”

Megan frowned. “Why not?”

“Because it’s still daylight out and I’ve still got to drag some names out of Jack Ramey. Once I find out who hired him, I’ll get to the bottom of things around here.”

“You need some rest and lovin’.”

That made him smile. “Megan, you’re wounded.”

She smacked her lips. “I’m thirsty. Do you suppose that I could have a little of that whiskey?”

“Hell, yes! Have all you want.”

He poured Megan a glass, and she raised it in a toast and took a long, shuddering gulp. “Now then,” she said, her voice husky from the drink. “Let’s continue with where we left off.”

“Megan,” he said with a smile, “you are wounded and I’d never touch you for fear of breaking open the wound.”

“Hmm,” she said, giving the matter and her whiskey some serious contemplation. “Well, I’d respond to that by pointing out to you, Marshal Long, that only one small part of me is wounded. In fact, just a little corner of me. That leaves a whole lot left that is just fine.”

“No,” he said flatly.

Megan smiled seductively and rolled the bedcover down to her belly. Her breasts were magnificent and despite his low spirits, Longarm felt a stirring inside his pants.

“Do I detect some interest?”

“No, cover up.”

Megan took another sip of the whiskey and kicked the bedcovers away. Her long, horsewoman’s legs brought a flood of sensual memories back to Longarm, and when she bent her knees and blew him a kiss between her open legs, he simply could stand no more.

“If I so much as cause you a twinge of pain,” he said, unbuckling his gunbelt and kicking off his boots, “give me your word that you’ll say something.”

“I will. I promise I will,” she breathed.

“And I’m going to lie sorta off to the side of your belly,” he told her as he tore off his shirt and then began to undo his pants. “I’m not going to put any weight on that shoulder and …”

“Shut up and mount up,” she ordered.

Longarm was big and stiff before he even got his pants off. Megan spread herself wide and moaned with pleasure as he eased into her young body, careful to keep his weight away from that wounded shoulder.

“How’s the shoulder?” he whispered after thrusting himself into her fully.

“What shoulder?” she panted, one arm snaking around his neck as he slipped his hand under her firm buttocks and pulled himself even deeper.

Longarm closed his eyes and took her very slowly. He was in no hurry, and he damn sure didn’t want to lose control of himself and bang her shoulder and cause it to start hemorrhaging again. Their lovemaking was deep and delicious, and it was nearly twenty minutes before they both started to feel ragged and began to lose control.

A sudden knock at the door froze them. “Marshal? It’s Dr. Blake.”

Longarm groaned into the small of Megan’s moist neck. She clutched him even tighter and whispered, “Custis, ignore him. Please!”

Longarm thought that was a wonderful idea. He began his slow but hard pumping again, feeling a tingling sensation spreading all the way from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes.

“Marshal Long!”

They both heard the door handle as the doctor turned it one way and then the next. “Marshal, unlock this door!”

“Later!” Longarm yelled, raising his head. “Come back in fifteen minutes.”