Sue said, "He has found out you are not upstairs. He has started to wonder why you have not come home. Or maybe he has gotten hungry, himself. I think he is going to scout around the places one can have supper near the center of Cheyenne. The town is not too big for one man with good legs to scout. When he sees you nowhere else, he may come back to your hotel to see if you came back while he was looking for you. If you go looking for him on the streets of Cheyenne in the suppertime, the two of you might never meet before or after dark!"
To which Longarm could only reply, "I have a damned night train to catch, too. I wonder if that's where he's headed right now. Seeing he's been so free about reading my messages."
She pointed out, "You have no way to cover both the railroad and that hotel. But hear me. When he does not see you getting aboard any train, he might come back here to see why. Let him be the rabbit who runs in circles, Wasichu Wastey. From up here you can see whether he comes back here after you or not."
Longarm started to ask what happened if the mysterious tinhorn never came back at all. But he knew that was a dumb question. He'd be no worse off and it was likely safer to stay put up here where none of them could expect him to be, until such time as he could figure out where even one of them might be.
He told her as much. She moved to the hall door and bolted it on their side as she murmured, "Nunwey. I am glad. Help me move this bed over there by the window."
He naturally asked how come.
She said, "Don't you want to keep one eye on that entrance across the street?"
When he allowed he did, she asked, "Don't you want to have some fun with me while you're laying in wait for your enemy? In the Shining Times our young men often had to lay in wait for days at a time, and it was the custom of us Lakotaweyan to lay there with them and keep them from finding it too boring."
CHAPTER 10
Longarm helped the enthusiastic upstairs maid shift the brass bedstead over to the window, as most men would have, but he felt obliged to warn her as they worked together that he might have to leave on short notice and couldn't promise he'd ever get back to her.
Sue said, "I know this. That is why I have not been waiting for you to blow your nose-flute outside my father's tipi or come by with a string of ponies. I don't want to marry any man before I have seen more of life as a woman running with the wind. I heard about that time you spent with some other Lakota women up in the land of the Great White Mother. I want to find out whether they spoke straight about Wasichu Wastey who never beats a woman and never leaves her feeling hungry, hipi!"
Longarm might have remembered hipi meant "here" if she hadn't let go the bedpost to grab at her old ring-dang-do and rub it good through her thin poplin skirting. For some reason that made him feel like rubbing at blue denim, but he refrained, being a man who could wait for his supper until he'd set down to the table, when it seemed they meant to serve it right!
The bedcovers came almost dead level with the windowsill, once they had the bedstead lined up with the same. Longarm didn't want to risk his Winchester rolling out the open window. So he put it crossways at the head of the bed, against the head rails, where it would be out of the way or handy, as the occasion warranted.
While he was doing that, she'd drawn the covers down and folded them neatly but swiftly less they windup spotted, as she delicately put it. There was something to be said for chambermaid experience when it came to making or unmaking beds.
There was something to be said for growing up Lakota when it came to doffing duds in broad-ass daylight, too. For Longarm was still fumbling with his shirt buttons after draping his gun belt over a bedpost when the tawny little gal dived across the mattress naked as a jay to roll face up with her chunky brown thighs apart as she asked him directly for some down-home tawitan. He knew that meant fuck.
He tended to learn the sassy words of any lingo first. Then she threw in some shocking gestures that made Longarm thankful for those lace curtains.
Summer sunlight lingered late at Wyoming's latitude, but he doubted anyone could see in through the wind-rippled cotton lace from across the way. So, not wanting them to hear her begging for it, down in the streets of Cheyenne, Longarm shucked his own duds to join her. It was easy, seeing she'd shoved a pillow under her firm brown rump to greet him with her legs flung wide as she could fling them.
He'd almost forgotten how swell that first thrust into a strange pussy felt, after all that purity around young Daisy and old Covina. So there was something to be said for staking out a hotel entrance Lakota style, as if he could have gotten out of it.
He knew what he was doing would have been a federal offense if she was still on the reservation, while turning down a Lakota gal who'd offered him some tawitan could take years off a rude gent's life.
The awsome rep Border Mex gals enjoyed for being dangerous to cross was largely due to the Indian blood and folkways so many of them denied. Ladies raised by Latin traditions were prone to be murderously jealous but practical about how far a gal could carry on with her man. But Indian women, while far less possessive when they'd been brought up Indian style, were too stubborn to call it a day whenever you did push one over the edge into wailing like a banshee and throwing anything they could lift.
So it was just as well the spunky little Sue only seemed out to count coup with her pussy and satisfy some natural curiosity about a man her nation found confusing because he tended to treat Indians firm but fair next to some others, red or white.
Once he had it all the way in and commenced to rub himself all over her, inside and out, the hot-and-bothered full-blood cried out, "Mitakuye oyasin! They were right about you! You feel so good all over and there is so much of you to feel!"
Longarm tried to assure himself his boss down Denver way might agree this was in the line of duty, seeing they needed her help as much as she seemed to need a good reaming. So he kept on reaming and didn't stop when she stiffened, bucked, and said she'd just climaxed. He growled he hadn't, and when she protested her crotch was getting cramped from gaping so wide, he rolled her on her belly with one of the pillows under her hips to raise her brown rump admirably.
She felt even tighter inside with her legs down together between Longarm's own as he straddled them to enter her from a whole new angle. He'd have never managed, had not her rear entrance been so slick with renewed desire and past satisfaction. Once he had most of it in his own desire renewed considerable and the inch or so left out in that position as her smooth sweat buttocks clasped them from either side.
They both wanted to make it last, and that position offered Longarm a much better overlook at the hotel entrance across the way. He wondered what that sassy walking gal down yonder in the Dolly Varden skirts would say if she knew what was going on up here behind these nigh transparent curtains. He wondered why he was picturing her in this very position with her frilly skirts thrown up over her blond ringlets. But the chambermaid he was screwing felt the effects of such dirty daydreaming and allowed he was surely a natural wonder.
He knew he could keep going indefinite if he humped her at an easy lope and let his mind wander some from her own sweet twitchings.
So he jawed with her as he long-donged her, and she seemed flattered he was willing to discuss the mission he was on with her.
When he asked if it made sense to her that inexperienced shemales could track down experienced riders of the Owlhoot Trail, the Lakota gal arched her spine to swallow more of him as she calmly replied, "Hear me. The blue-sleeved eagle chief your people called Custer had been riding the war path long. Very long. They say he won many good fights in that war between the blue sleeves and the gray sleeves. They say he won all the battles he ever fought with those who paint themselves, until that one last battle where the greasy grass grows beside the wooded waters."