Drifter 5 Read online

  ‘Close the door.’

  He frowned at her. ‘What is it you want?’

  Lizzy turned away and walked over to the bed. She ran a hand over it and sat down. ‘I saw your fight in the street with Trent today.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘I thought you might need …’ she ran a hand across the tops of her breasts, ‘… tending.’

  Savage closed the door. He tucked the Remington into the front of his pants.

  Lizzy gave him a playful look. ‘You might want to be careful with that. We wouldn’t want it to go bang. Not that anyway.’

  ‘Who the hell are you?’

  ‘A friend. Or I could be if you wanted me to be. Come over here.’

  The Drifter hesitantly walked over to her.

  She patted the bed. ‘Sit with me.’

  From where he stood, Savage could see down the deep valley between her breasts. His pulse quickened, and he could feel the stirring in his groin. Every fiber of his body told him this was a bad idea, but hell, a man don’t get an offer like this every day.

  ‘What do you get out of it?’

  ‘Why don’t we discuss that later.’

  Lizzy grabbed at the top of his pants and started to drag them down. Savage reached for the Remington and tossed it on the floor. He’d pick it up later. Then he discarded his shirt, revealing a torso ripped with cords of muscle, and a chest covered in dark hair.

  When his erection sprang free from his pants, Lizzy looked up at him and smiled, her eyes sparkling. ‘My, that’s nice.’

  Before Savage could speak, she moved her head forward and the Drifter felt his toes curl against the floor. She worked on him for a minute before a deep growl emerged from his throat and his hand grabbed a fistful of Lizzy’s hair and dragged her to her feet.

  There was a look of erotic excitement in her eyes. ‘What’s the problem?’ she asked hoarsely.

  Savage grasped at the top of Lizzy’s dress and dragged down in a sharp movement. Her pale breasts sprang free and revealed hard, pink nipples. The Drifter pinched one between a thumb and forefinger.

  Lizzy moaned and pressed his head firmly to her chest with her left hand, while her right massaged his shaft.

  Savage’s tongue flickered over Lizzy’s left breast, stopped at the nipple, pursed his lips, and sucked it in.

  She pushed him away. ‘Damn it, help me get out of this dress.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  With swift movements, the dress came off, along with Savage’s own attire.

  Lizzy stood before him, her large breasts thrust forward, stomach flat and defined. She pushed him back onto the bed and followed, hovering above his hard body. Then holding him in position, Lizzy lowered herself slowly down.

  Savage rose part of the way to meet her and Lizzy moaned again. The Drifter felt himself become harder as her warmth enveloped him.

  Lizzy gasped. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’

  She leaned down and kissed him, her tongue darting into his mouth and back out. Then Lizzy straightened up and Savage cupped her breasts, lightly brushing her erect nipples with his thumbs.

  Slowly at first, Lizzy started to move her hips against him, but the longer her movements went on, the more urgent they became until she could hold back no more. Her head went back, tossing her dark curls down her spine, and exposed the tender flesh of her throat.

  The invitation was too enticing to resist, and, as Lizzy tipped over the precipice of ecstasy, Savage lifted from the bed and buried his face into the hollow where her throat and shoulder met. As her rhythm slowed, she looked down at him and gave him a mischievous smile. ‘Your turn.’

  Savage lay on the bed and watched Lizzy dress and re-pin her hair. ‘Are you going to tell me who you are?’

  She stopped what she was doing and asked, ‘Is it important?’

  ‘Just curious is all.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll keep it to myself.’

  ‘Will I see you again before I leave town?’

  She thought for a moment and shrugged. ‘Maybe. Depends if you leave town before I do.’

  ‘You’re leaving?’

  ‘The day after tomorrow on the stage. I’m headed north.’

  ‘I guess this is goodbye then.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Well, then. Goodbye.’

  She finished what she was doing and blew Savage a kiss. ‘Bye, handsome.’

  As Lizzy opened the door and stepped out, she bumped into the hotel owner. ‘Oh, sorry Mr. Lane. I should be more careful stepping out into the hallway.’

  The man was shocked. ‘I … ahh … I … that’s quite all right, Mrs. Breen.’

  She smiled warmly. ‘Good evening.’

  ‘Ahh … yes.’

  Lane looked at the open doorway and saw Savage standing there, pants on, chest bare. ‘Did you say …?’

  ‘Breen? Yes. Mrs. Josiah Breen.’

  Savage pulled a face. ‘Oh, shit.’

  ‘And I’d say loads of it, Mr. Savage. Loads of it.’

  When Lizzy Breen walked into the spacious room that her and Josiah shared, she found him seated in a corner, drinking expensive brandy that he had shipped in from New Orleans. She hesitated when she saw him because he only ever sat up drinking like that when he was angry.

  ‘Hello, Josiah,’ she greeted him, a cautious smile on her face.

  His gaze was like granite, his voice matched. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘Out visiting.’

  Lizzy walked over to her dresser and sat down facing the mirror. She started to let her hair down as she watched his reflection.

  ‘Who was it you were visiting? Mrs. Wells?’

  A chill ran down her spine. He was starting to scare her. ‘If you must know, yes.’

  ‘Are you sure? Maybe it was that stranger in town, Savage?’

  A flicker of alarm crossed Lizzy’s face briefly before she composed herself. ‘Don’t be absurd.’

  The half-empty glass of brandy whizzed past her head and smashed into the mirror. Lizzy jumped with fright as glass and alcohol sprayed across the room.

  ‘Don’t lie to me, you bitch!’ Breen screeched.

  He came out of his chair and crossed to her trembling form in swift strides. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her head around so he could glare into her fear-filled eyes.

  ‘You were with him!’

  ‘N—no.’

  He slapped Lizzy across the face. ‘Liar!’

  Lizzy clutched at her cheek as it turned bright red, burning with the pain.

  ‘You were with him!’

  She hesitated.

  His hand raised.

  ‘Yes! Okay, yes I was with him.’

  Breen shoved her forcefully away and her ribs hit the edge of the dresser. He started to walk towards the door.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked through gritted teeth at the pain in her side.

  ‘I was going to have Milt kill him tonight. Now, I’ll do it myself.’

  ‘No, Josiah, don’t.’

  Breen gave his wife a look of contempt. ‘I’ll deal with you when I get back.’

  ‘Josiah, No! Josiah!’

  The door slammed shut hard enough to vibrate along the wall. Lizzy’s shoulders slumped and, with her face in her hands, she cried.

  When they came, Savage was asleep. After what had happened earlier with Lizzy Breen, he should have been on edge. But he let his guard down and was unaware of the intruders’ presence until it was too late.

  ‘Drag your sorry ass out of that bed, you son of a bitch,’ Breen hissed.

  The pressure of a gun barrel under the Drifter’s chin left him helpless. All he could do was obey.

  ‘Milt, get the lamp,’ Breen barked.

  The light came up and filled the room. Savage looked into Breen’s eyes and could see the deep-seated fire burning in them.

  ‘I suppose the fact I didn’t know who she was won’t count for much?’

  His answer was a sharp rap to the side of
his head with a gun barrel, which drew blood and caused the Drifter to stagger. He gathered himself and stared Breen in the eye.

  ‘I guess you plan on killing me,’ he said.

  Breen nodded. ‘I do.’

  ‘Then I have a question for you?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘How does it feel to be married to a whore?’

  The gun in Josiah Breen’s fist roared twice and everything in Savage’s world went black.

  ‘They’re All Bad, To A Man!’

  One week later …

  Distant flashes of lightning illuminated the landscape around the herd. Thunder, although only just audible, could be heard and every one of the trail crew knew that if they got through this night without any trouble, then they could consider themselves lucky.

  Trent tossed the dregs of his coffee onto the ground and focused his gaze on two men across the other side of the fire. ‘Get your asses up and out to the herd. If this storm hits we’ll need extra hands out with the other nighthawks.’

  Both men glanced at Breen before they stood up. Trent noticed them do it but let it go. While they were on the trail he was in charge, not Breen. And Breen had let it play out as they went along.

  They were two days north of Fort Sumner and the herd was traveling well. Until now that was.

  The Texas Longhorn breed were naturally skittish at the best of times. Now, with this storm moving in, they sensed it and were becoming restless. That meant it wouldn't take much for the herd to start to run.

  The two hands disappeared towards the horse pickets. Trent looked at those who were left around the campfire. ‘That goes for the rest of you. Every one of us rides nighthawk tonight.’

  ‘The hell I am,’ Milt growled.

  Trent shifted his gaze to Breen who nodded. ‘All of us, Milt. Although I do not know what we are to do with our guest.’

  ‘She can ride with me,’ Trent said. ‘No one stays in camp. Not even the cook.’

  ‘I can’t ride a damned horse,’ the cook protested. ‘Why do you think I ride a blasted wagon?’

  Trent fixed his hard gaze on him. ‘You’re about to learn.’

  ‘What about the chuckwagon? What about all the cleaning up, and cooking breakfast in the morning?’

  ‘If it’s still here, you can see to it then.’

  ‘Aren’t you being a little over the top, Trent?’ Breen asked him.

  ‘No, Breen, I’m not. I’ve seen a herd stampede, and I’ve also seen what can happen to a man when a thousand pounds of crazed animal runs over him, not to mention the whole herd. I was on a drive once when we had a stampede. One of the hands was trying to turn the herd away from a deep wash they was headed for. His horse stumbled, and he was thrown. When we went back looking for him, all we found was one of his boots and a pile of busted meat. They could destroy this camp and everyone in it. Now, you tell me if I’m being over cautious.’

  While the two men stared at each other, a crash of thunder sounded overhead and some of the other hands gave those around them a nervous glance. Slowly they started to climb to their feet and walk towards their horses. Even Milt.

  Breen smiled. ‘All right, you win. We’ll all ride nighthawk. But the woman is your problem. If she causes any trouble, it’s on you.’

  Trent nodded and looked across at the second wagon where Mavis was sequestered. He walked over to the conveyance and pulled back the stained, canvas flap at the rear of it.

  Mavis Porter’s voice growled from the darkened interior, ‘What do you want?’

  ‘You need to come out of there and get a horse. You’re riding with me tonight, just in case the herd stampedes.’

  ‘My herd, you mean.’

  ‘I’m not going to argue with you, May. You can come with me, or you can stay here and if the herd stampedes, pray they don’t come this way.’

  Another crash of thunder sounded, closer again. The noise persuaded Mavis to climb from the wagon and take Trent up on his offer.

  ‘Once we get mounted, stay close to me.’

  ‘With a little luck, the herd might trample you,’ Mavis hissed.

  ‘If it does, then you will be too.’

  The rain came down in sheets, with drops large enough to sting when they hit bare skin. The cowhands were drenched through as water flowed from every part of their clothing. Even their hats acted as a waterfall.

  With every step, the horses sloshed water and mud. Lightning kept illuminating the sky with an electrically-charged light show, its beauty lost on those living through it, and thunder added further anxiety to the already-tense men.

  Mavis rode steadily around the herd with Trent. She was cold and wet and miserable.

  ‘Can’t we find a tree to shelter under?’ she shouted above the wind.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s too dangerous. Lightning.’

  She shouted something back at him that was whipped away on the wind. She was about to give him another spray when something unbelievable stopped her cold.

  ‘Look!’ Mavis shouted at Trent.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Look! The cattle!’

  He shifted his gaze to where Mavis was pointing at the milling Longhorns until he saw it. The tips of their horns were an iridescent blue. Then came the faint hissing sound.

  A look of despair crossed Trent’s wet face. ‘Oh, shit!’

  The sky above the milling herd was torn asunder with a magnificent, electric-blue flash followed by the sound of a thousand cannons firing at the same time. A great fork of lightning struck a tree to their right. It stood no chance and was split apart, bright sparks filling the air around it. Small flames flickered from the blackened scar in its trunk, while it started to burn from the inside out.

  That was all it took for the herd to start running. An instant before, the Longhorns were a mass of nervous energy. Afterwards, they were a surging, unstoppable tide. Creatures bawled in panic and began running west, away from the camp.

  And towards them!

  ‘Stay with me!’ Trent shouted at Mavis.

  Their horses leapt forward as the panic-stricken herd closed the gap at an alarming rate. Each time the lightning flashed, Mavis could see them, closer, wild-eyed, horns lashing the rain-soaked air.

  Not far away, she caught sight of a horse and rider in front of the out-of-control mass. The darkness became all-enveloping momentarily, before the next flash lit the night once more, revealing that the man and mount were gone.

  Fear coursed through Mavis as she realized that both had been overwhelmed by the runaway herd. Without realizing it, she cried out in horror and hauled back on the reins of her horse.

  ‘Keep moving!’ Trent shouted at her.

  But Mavis had frozen and the horse beneath her started to panic as the ground beneath them began to tremble. The frightened animal reared up and almost unseated her.

  Trent moved his horse in beside her and wrapped an arm around her shaking form. ‘Hang on to me!’

  Mavis came free of the saddle and clung to Trent as he carried her clear of the oncoming herd. Behind them, her horse screamed as the mass flowed over it before it could get away.

  Then they were safe. Trent stopped his horse and looked back over his shoulder as he lowered Mavis to the rain-soaked ground. That was when he noticed it. The herd had wheeled around in a big arc and was headed back towards the camp.

  In a dry tone, he muttered, ‘There goes breakfast.’

  Come daylight, there were still dark clouds overhead, giving the morning a cold, drab feel. Around the camp, the earth was a churned mass of mud and water. The chuckwagon was wrecked and its contents were strewn everywhere and stomped into the soft earth.

  The cattle were scattered to hell and gone and the remuda weren’t far behind them. The only horses left were the worn-out and bedraggled ones the crew had been riding when the Longhorns stampeded.

  Trent came into camp on foot, his horse walking behind him, head down. Beside the ramrod was Mavis.


  ‘I found Polden,’ he said to Breen. ‘What was left of him anyways. All someone will have to do is scrape dirt over him.’

  Breen cursed. ‘That’s two we lost.’

  ‘Who else?’

  ‘Warren. Broke his neck when his horse fell. Wasn’t even near the herd. Speaking of which …’

  ‘It’s going to take us days to round them up,’ Trent told him. ‘Especially with bone-tired horses.’

  ‘I haven’t got days to round up cattle,’ Breen growled.

  The ramrod shrugged. ‘It is what it is.’

  ‘Not for me. Milt and I are going on as soon as we get fresh horses. I’ll leave you money for Raton Pass and to hire some more hands at Las Vegas. We’ll meet you in Dobson.’

  At first, Trent thought about protesting but decided against it. In a way, he was happy to be rid of Breen. He could run things the way he wanted to without interference.

  Trent nodded. ‘I’ll have someone find you a couple of horses.’

  ‘There is one other thing,’ Breen said.

  ‘What’s that?’

  Breen motioned him over and away from the others. He gave the ramrod a stern look and said, ‘The woman. Get rid of her before you get to Dobson.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘I don’t care how but I want her gone. The last thing I need is her spouting off about the herd. Set her afoot, put a bullet in her head, I don’t give two shits. Just do it.’

  Christ, Trent thought, how has it come to this?

  ‘You have to stay in bed, Mr. Savage,’ protested the gray-haired doctor, Morton Brown. ‘You’re still not strong enough to be up and about.’

  ‘Horseshit!’ Savage snapped. ‘I have been laying in that bed for ten days. I’ve had enough. I got me things to do. Where are my damned clothes?’

  With an exasperated expression on his face, the doctor pointed to a chair in the corner of the room. Savage picked up the new pair of brown pants and began to put them on. He nodded with satisfaction as they fit perfectly. ‘Your wife knows her sizes.’

  His previous pants were ruined after he’d been shot, as blood had soaked through them.