“I don’t have to put up with insults, just because of my race.”
“Yes, you do. No matter what your race is, somebody don’t figure to like it. I was chased from hell to breakfast by Apache last summer, just for being white. When we get where we’re going, you’ll likely see me catching a few dark looks from your daddy’s folks, too. The thing is, there’s enough trouble in this world for all of us, even when we don’t go looking for it. I see a hotel sign up ahead. This time, damn it, I’ll thank you to be that Mexican lady I told you about!”
“They take a lot off your kind, too.”
“That’s true. If we were checking into a hotel in Texas I’d say you were a Blackfoot. Hereabouts, they ain’t mad at Mexicans.”
He escorted her into a smaller, shabbier hotel and this time there was no incident at the desk. There was no adjoining bathroom to their two small rooms upstairs, either, but Longarm didn’t comment. There were chamber pots under the beds and he supposed it might be a good lesson for the young woman.
He let her into her own room and handed her the key, with a warning about opening to anyone but himself, then gave her a terse good-night nod. He went to his own room, and before lighting the lamp, stared down into the street for a time. He’d been watching in the glass windows to see if they’d been followed from the other hotel, but it seemed as if his crawfish act had satisfied the local Indian fighters.
He locked the door and sat on the edge of the brass bedstead, tearing up a newspaper he’d found on the dressing table. He crumpled the shreds of newspaper and threw them on the threadbare rug between the bed and the locked door before he hung his gun rig on a bed post, put his watch and derringer under a pillow, and got undressed.
Nude in the darkness, he scratched his chest morosely as he thought of the bath he’d missed. He needed a shave, too, and there were soot and fly-ash in his hair from the long train ride north. Well, he’d just have to bear with it for now. Damn that fool squaw!
As he was sliding under the covers there came a soft rap on his door. Longarm got up, drew the .44 from its holster, and went over to the door, standing to one side as he asked, “Yeah?”
“It’s me, Gloria. Are you still awake?”
“Yep, but I’m naked. What can I do for you, ma’am?”
“I want to apologize for the way I acted down the street.”
“Forget it. We’re both worn out from all that riding, smoke, dust, and such. You get some shut-eye and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Can I come in for a moment? I’m too keyed-up to sleep.”
He went over to the bed and slipped on his pants before going back to open the door. The girl was wearing a white shift and was barefoot. Her tawny skin seemed darker against the white cotton in the dim light and her hair smelled like wilted tea roses. He shut the door and locked it behind her as she stepped on a paper ball and exclaimed, “Good heavens! What’s all this paper doing on the floor?”
“Old Border Mex trick. Keeps folks from pussyfooting in on you while you’re snoring.”
“Do things like that happen often, in your line of work?”
“Not often. Once would be too often, though. I don’t have a chair in here for you. You can sit on the bed and I’ll sort of stand here while you tell me what’s on your mind.”
She went to the bed, slipped the shift off over her head and sat down, stark naked, before she said, “I want to sleep with you.”
Longarm blinked but managed not to gasp his surprise as he waited a breath to steady his voice. “Just like that?”
“What’s the matter? Don’t you want to sleep with me?”
“Well, hell, sure! But I sort of figured-“
“I know what you’ve been figuring, all day. Most men would have made their move by now. This time tomorrow, we’ll be on the reservation where it’ll be a federal offense for you to trifle with me. I knew this was the one night you’d have to try and, damn it, you just move too slow, Longarm!”
Grinning, he unbuttoned his pants, let them fall around his ankles, and stepped out of them. She lay back as he loomed over her, wrapping arms and legs around him as be sank into her tawny body with both feet braced firmly on the rug. She thrust her body to meet his own hungry thrusts and her open mouth was a warm pit of savage desire as she sucked his tongue almost to the point of pain.
He let himself go without attempts at finesse or mutual orgasm, the first time. Then, having made her acquaintance, he moved them both to the center of the bed and got down to serious lovemaking, murmuring, “Still think I move too slow?”
“Let me get on top. I like to take charge.”
“I noticed.” He grinned, rolling off to let her have her way. And have her way she did. Every time Longarm tried to respond with movements of his own she’d kiss him and whisper, “Just float with me, darling. Mama knows what she’s doing. I’ll take good care of baby. You’ll see!” Longarm knew better than to argue with a lady, so he lay there, spread-eagled and as puzzled as he was delighted by the lovemaking of this strange, dark little woman.
It was too good to last forever; she’d literally wrung him out like a lemon and as she took his limp flesh between her moist lips, he sighed, “You’ve got to let it rest a mite, honey. I don’t reckon I could get it up again with a block and tackle right now!”
She laughed and threw herself down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder as she fondled him and purred, “We’ll see about that. Did you-?”
Longarm silenced her with a finger on her lips. “Don’t say nothing. I’ve just been looking up through a knothole in the bottom of heaven and I want to hear the angels sing some more.”
“Am I as good as a white girl?”
“That’s a fool thing to say. You’re at least as good as any kind of gal, white, red, or even blue. I disremember doing it with a blue gal, but I doubt she’d teach me anything you left out.”
“You’re sure I satisfied you completely, darling?”
“You’ve got your hand on how satisfied I am. If I was more satisfied I’d be dead.”
“Then why did he leave me, the brute?”
Longarm nodded in sudden understanding as he sighed and said, “Likely crazy, if you ever done him like that. Who are we talking about, the brave you’re ‘sort of’ married up with?”
“My husband’s a white man, the son of a bitch!”
“Oh. I was wondering what we were trying to prove just now. When did this lunatic run off on you, Gloria?”
“About a year ago. He was a soldier at the fort. He said—he said he loved me.”
“Yeah, most men do, when they marry up with someone. What happened to him? He get transferred out?”
“Of course. There’s not much you don’t know about Indian matters, is there? My father warned me it would happen, but I thought Roger meant it. You know what my father tried to tell me?”
“Sure I do. The new army regulations say no soldier can trifle with a reservation gal unless his intentions are honorable. Your Roger had to marry you or leave you be, and seeing you’re so pretty.”
“Roger said he considered me a white girl! He said he’d take me with him when he left the fort. He said he’d told his folks about us and that they’d be proud to have me back East. He said … he said … God damn it, you know what he said. You men all say the same things when you mean to do a woman wrong!”
“Well, he likely meant it at the time, honey. I know what it’s been like for you, but-“
“You know nothing, white man! You don’t know what it’s like to grow up wishing you were white, or even black, for God’s sake, if only you could belong somewhere!”
“You seem to be accepted by your tribe, Gloria.”
“A lot you know! Why do you think they call me Two-Women? If my father hadn’t been a chief-“