“Your men spooked the herd. I could have been killed.”

  “Why, yes, that is so,” said the maharajah. He looked startled when Slocum reared back, intending to deliver a roundhouse punch that would have decked the man. Slocum checked his swing when he saw Ali aiming the heavy hunting rifle at him.

  “You are angry. Why is this so?”

  “You said it. Your men could have gotten me killed.” Slocum looked to where his horse still struggled. He pointedly turned his back on the maharajah, went to his horse and put it out of its misery. Only then did he return. He considered what it would take to similarly put Ali out of his misery but discarded the idea. The maharajah’s servant still had the heavy rifle snugged up into his shoulder, ready to defend his master.

  Slocum jammed his six-gun back into his cross-draw holster.

  “You are angry,” the maharajah said, as if the thought had never occurred to him before that any lesser mortal could share such emotions with someone of his exalted rank.

  “Almost getting killed for no reason makes me mad. Having to shoot my horse makes me real mad,” Slocum said, not trying to hide what he felt.

  “You ruined the master’s hunt,” said the elephant wrangler. The man scowled as he tapped the long rod against the palm of his hand. The wicked hook at the end could do a considerable amount of damage to a man in a fight. Slocum wasn’t going to let it go that far. If the elephant driver took so much as one step forward, Slocum would drop him with a bullet in his heart. He had reached the end of his patience.

  “Be quiet, Gasim,” the maharajah said. “He does so like to please me, but sometimes he oversteps his bounds.”

  “Were you doing the shooting or was he?” Slocum lifted his chin and pointed, Navajo style, at Ali. Ali might have been turned to stone, rifle to his shoulder with his aim directed at Slocum’s head.

  “He cleans my guns, nothing more. I do the shooting. Have you ever been on a tiger hunt? No, of course not. There are no tigers in this land of yours. Only the wooly buffaloes and other, lesser animals.”

  “You’ve never tangled with a grizzly bear,” Slocum said.

  “A grizzly bear? Why, no. Is it ferocious?”

  “It could rip apart your tiger,” Slocum said, knowing what a bear could do against a mountain lion. He reckoned a tiger was only a striped cougar.

  The maharajah laughed with gusto. “You have such a sense of humor, Mr. Slocum. The tiger is cunning, dangerous, quick, the most difficult of all wild game to hunt. I have lost no fewer than forty beaters and bearers during my tiger hunts. It is a man-killer and a man-eater.”

  The four riders came up. Slocum was surprised to see Lakshmi rode one of the horses, then remembered the smaller footprints at the lake where the maharajah had probably mounted the elephant for the hunt. Close beside her rode a small, dark, intense man who glared at Slocum. Slocum was beginning to think no one in the maharajah’s party cottoned much to him.

  The feeling was mutual.

  Except for the way Lakshmi kept looking at him. Her servant eyed him like that man-eating tiger the maharajah talked so much about, but her dark eyes held something more pleasant.

  “I want you to pay me for my horse,” Slocum said. “If your beaters hadn’t stampeded the buffalo herd, it would never have galloped across a field where there were so many prairie-dog holes.”

  The mahout let out a wordless cry of rage and rushed forward, swinging his hooked stick at Slocum. Slocum reacted instinctively. He deflected the vicious stick with his left arm and reached out with his right hand to clutch the mahout’s throat. Gasim’s eyes bulged as Slocum squeezed. The mahout tried to twist away but was off balance from his headlong rush. Slocum stepped back, turned and sent Gasim crashing facedown into the dirt.

  Gasim lay stunned for a moment, then leaped to his feet. This time Slocum’s punch was already on the way and connected with the mahout’s belly. The elephant wrangler doubled over, his chin in exactly the right position for Slocum to bring up his knee into it. Gasim’s head snapped back, and he fell to the ground, out like a light.

  Slocum picked up the hooked stick and turned toward the maharajah, who had watched, an amused smile dancing on his lips. For a split second that enjoyment turned to fear when he saw Slocum’s expression.

  Behind the prince, Ali scrambled to get a clean shot without hitting his master. But it wasn’t necessary. Slocum grabbed the pole in both hands and broke it with a snap that rang out like a gunshot. He threw the pieces onto the mahout’s limp body.

  “You fight splendidly,” the maharajah said. “I will give you a new horse, but you must agree to be my scout.”

  Slocum turned and walked off without a word. It was a long way back to Hoback Junction, but if he kept a steady pace he might make it before noon the next day.

  6

  It took Slocum longer to get to Hoback Junction than he had thought. Blisters slowed him and he spent two nights under the stars, sleeping with his head propped against his saddle and his blanket pulled around him. Both nights his dreams were haunted by visions of Hugh Malley being stomped on by the huge gray elephant. The maharajah stood off to one side, laughing uproariously. Floating through the dream, though, was the exotically lovely Lakshmi with her beguiling smile and mysterious dark eyes all for Slocum.

  He awoke each morning unrested and grumbled more with every step he took. As he finally reached the outskirts of town, he dropped his saddle and went into the cemetery. The new grave in the otherwise desolate graveyard drew him like a magnet. He laughed ruefully when he read the inscription.

  Here lies Hugh Malley

  A life in mines

  Eternity underground

  Darlene had a sense of humor he hadn’t expected. Then he sobered. It fit Hugh. The man had been from Wales and his entire life was spent in hard-rock mines. Slocum had seen the man’s like before. Hugh Malley could talk rock, drilling, mining, anything having to do with being underground like some men talked about women or the big poker hand where they had won enough money to choke a cow. The difference was obvious, though. Hugh knew mining and Slocum had never caught him in an outright tall tale or lie when it came to his abilities as a miner.

  Slocum’s resolve hardened. Marshal Rothbottom wasn’t likely to do anything to bring the maharajah to justice for Hugh’s death. Whether the prince was personally responsible mattered less to Slocum than somebody being punished. His hand drifted to the butt of his six-shooter. He wouldn’t mind mixing it up with Ali again. Or the mahout, Gasim.

  If Slocum had to pick a place to start asking his hard questions, it would be with Gasim. The elephant driver was unpleasant, but Slocum had seen any number of good-hearted men who acted liked jackasses. He had the gut feeling Gasim had showed his true face when he had attacked with the hooked staff.

  Slocum left Hugh’s grave with a silent vow to plant the man’s killer in the same cemetery, hefted his gear and walked the remaining mile to town. Dusk gave Hoback Junction softer edges, and the gaslights hadn’t been turned on yet. Slocum dropped his saddle and sat on it, watching the sun set over the Grand Tetons. Such beauty mixed with ugly death—that summed up the way Slocum looked at the world.

  “John?”

  He glanced over his shoulder to see Darlene behind him. He had not heard her come up since he had been lost in thought.

  “I saw Hugh’s grave. You did good putting that marker on it. Hugh’d like it.”

  “Thank you. It took ’bout all my money, but he deserved it.” Darlene looked around at the bustle of the townspeople and heaved a deep sigh. From that angle, Slocum got a good view of her breasts rising and falling under her somewhat dirtied blouse. She turned and set her skirt whirling around. Slocum stood quickly to keep himself from getting distracted even more by her feminine charms.

  “I’m about tapped out, too,” Slocum said. He did not bother going into the story of how he had lost his horse. Getting another, even if he could find one with as stout a heart, would cost a fabulous amount of money. Maybe a hundred dollars since this was a frontier town willing to bilk anyone passing through.

  Darlene turned and looked at him with a soft, unfocused stare.

  “We should team up,” she said. It was clear to Slocum what she meant. Darlene was a good-looking woman, but Slocum wasn’t sure he wanted to take up with the sweetheart of a dead friend. She was more likely to be seeking out anyone to cling to, to take care of her, to lean on because Hugh was gone. Slocum didn’t want that kind of attachment from her because it would be for all the wrong reasons.

  “Hugh has to be avenged,” both of them said at the same time.

  Slocum looked at her and then laughed. Darlene did think a lot like him. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Or was it?

  “I’ve got a hotel room for one more night,” she said. “Gets mighty lonely in that big bed without Hugh.”

  “Darlene—” he started.

  “John, I don’t want anything from you. Nothing but a night where I can forget Hugh. For a spell. In the morning we can go our separate ways.”

  “Or maybe we can figure out how to get some justice for Hugh,” he said.

  “I want that,” she said. “As much as I want you. Now.” Darlene moved closer and looked up at him. For a moment Slocum thought she was going to violate all the laws about public decency and kiss him, but she stopped an inch shy. He felt her hot breath and soaked up some of the heat from her body.

  Slocum stepped back. Darlene caught her breath, then let it out in a sigh of relief when he stooped to pick up his gear and came back to her. Side by side they went to the hotel without saying another word and trooped up the rickety stairs. The second floor was full. So was the third. Darlene had a tiny room crammed in under the sloping roof on the fourth floor. The big bed she had mentioned was hardly wide enough for one person, but Slocum doubted they would be doing much sleeping.

  “Drop your saddle over there,” Darlene said, pointing to a small chest where guests could store their clothing. She moved closer and boldly said, “And drop your pants here.”

  Slocum heaved his saddle to the top of the chest. By the time it crashed down, Darlene was already working on his jeans. As she opened the buttons on his fly one by one, he carefully unfastened the buckle on his gun belt and laid it aside.

  “So big,” she cooed, reaching into the fly and teasing out the thick shaft, which had been hidden away for too long. Darlene moved even closer and brushed her lips across the underside of his fleshy rod. Then she made a giant gulping sound and devoured him totally. Slocum’s knees went weak as he reached down to run his fingers through her dark hair to balance himself.

  “Go on, stroke my hair. I like that,” Darlene said, pulling away from him for a moment. She returned immediately, kissing, licking and then gently sucking on the thick tip that bobbed about harder and bigger with every feathery touch of her mouth.

  Slocum did as she asked, his fingers moving over the thick strands of her soft, long hair. Every time he stroked back, Darlene moved her head forward and took a little more of him into her mouth. Slocum quickly got the idea and began guiding her in the motion he liked most by the way he ran his fingers over and through her thick locks.

  A slurping sound filled the tiny room and worked even more erotic magic on Slocum. He had wondered, now and then while they were all out on the trail, what Darlene might be like, but he had not dwelled too much on such fantasies since she and Hugh had been together, and Hugh Malley had been a friend.

  The thought crossed Slocum’s mind that this wasn’t the right way to honor the man’s memory and then vanished for good. Hugh was dead and buried. Whatever fleshy bond Hugh and she had before was now gone. Darlene needed him now as much as he needed her. It was a good trade.

  Darlene gobbled and sucked and licked until Slocum’s knees began to sag. His legs turned watery as sensations rippled throughout his loins, and he knew he was not going to withstand much more of the woman’s oral assault.

  Slocum turned slowly, letting Darlene come along with him. Then he sat on the edge of the bed. Darlene looked up. Her eyes turned up to look at him. Slocum saw gold flecks in those eyes. He knew he had hit the mother lode by the way Darlene worked so avidly.

  “You’re so big,” Darlene said again, her fingers curling and uncurling around his steely stalk.

  Slocum did not answer with words. Instead, he reached down and took her shoulders, gently drawing her to her feet. Darlene was much shorter but now towered over the seated Slocum. Looking straight ahead, he could see bare flesh poking through the single gap in her blouse just above her navel. He began working on her blouse to get the buttons free to expose more of her luscious skin. He did not work quickly enough for her. Darlene helped with the tiny pearl buttons and quickly revealed the naked swells of her firm breasts. The coral tips were surrounded by brownish, bumpy plains that drew Slocum’s mouth as surely as Darlene’s had found their target at his crotch.

  Slocum licked from the underside all the way to the top of each breast in turn. Darlene purred like a contented cat and arched her back, trying to get more of her succulent flesh into his mouth. Slocum teased her with the promise of more, only to draw back and do something else.

  He kissed those rock-hard nubs cresting each mound of snowy flesh, only to kiss his way to the deep valley when she tried to shove her chest forward and let his mouth engulf her tender flesh.

  He toyed with her nipples, then suddenly spun the woman about. Darlene let out a cry of surprise and reached out, catching herself on the cedar chest where she had stored her clothing.

  Bent over, her behind jutting up into the air, Darlene gasped with joy when Slocum ran his hands up under her skirts. His hands found her sleek legs and worked quickly up to her naked thighs. Slocum’s hands parted those thighs and then he hiked her skirts up around her waist to expose her bare hindquarters.

  “You don’t wear any of those frilly undies most ladies prefer,” Slocum said.

  “Does that bother you?” She looked back over her shoulder as she braced herself on the chest. Darlene widened her stance enough to emphasize what sort of answer she wanted to hear.

  “It excites me.”

  Slocum showed her how much. He bunched her skirts around her waist and stroked over the smooth curves of her rump. The flesh trembled at his touch. He ran his hand faster and faster over her naked cheeks until he felt friction building.

  “I . . . I’m getting so hot, John. And damp inside. I—” Darlene let out a yelp as Slocum lightly spanked her bottom. He continued to spank until her hindquarters were a rosy red and she sagged forward, half lying across the chest.

  Then he moved into position. Slocum pushed down his pants around his ankles and kicked free, stood and placed his hands on her flaring hips. Before Darlene could say a word, Slocum’s hips spoke for them both. He slid forward, the chunky tip of his manhood bouncing along the woman’s nether lips. The pinkly scalloped gates protecting her innermost secrets fluttered gently and then opened to the fleshy invader.

  Slocum slid fully into her.

  For a moment, the world spun around him. He caught his breath and savored the intense sensations rampaging throughout his loins. The warmth that surrounded him became more intense. Then Darlene gasped. Slocum felt as if a gloved hand tightened around his manhood. She gasped and moaned and then sighed.

  “So nice, John. I . . . I didn’t know it could be like this.”

  “It won’t be for long,” Slocum said. “It’ll get better.”

  Slocum began moving with deliberate speed. Deeper into her gently yielding body, then an agonizingly slow retreat that built both their desires to the breaking point. Slocum hesitated as he stayed between the fleshy curtains of her most intimate recess, then he plunged back with more speed. The friction that he had built using his hands across her rounded bottom now magnified internally as he slid with assurance ever deeper into her body.

  Darlene began bucking and thrashing about, impaled on his thickness. Slocum reached down and caught her around the waist to keep her from inadvertently escaping. He pushed forward and braced her upper legs against the chest. Darlene sprawled forward so her breasts were flattened across the wooden lid of the chest, and she grasped the far side to keep from slipping to one side. When Slocum felt this new buttressing, he began thrusting with more power, trying to bury himself even deeper within her.

  Darlene shrieked with uncontrollable pleasure as the tension mounted. Her hips began moving in quick, tight circles and then pushed back to fit perfectly into the circle of his groin as she silently begged for more. Slocum was the man to let her have it. He knew he could go on a bit longer. But not much. The way she sounded, the way she felt, the way she responded so powerfully took its toll on his control. Slocum began to lose control and then all restraint fled. Hips flying like a shuttlecock, he sank faster and faster into Darlene’s yearning interior. Her molten center welcomed him eagerly, cradled him tenderly, massaged his entire length as it slipped back and forth and then crushed him as a new wave of desire washed through her body.

  Slocum felt the fiery tide rising within and then lost all control. A roaring in his ears blotted out Darlene’s new cries of ecstasy.

  Slocum held Darlene’s hips for a moment longer, then fell back and sat on the edge of the bed. She sank to her knees, then swiveled about to sit cross-legged on the floor to stare at him. She was flushed. Her cheeks were as rosy as the ones he had spanked and her eyes blazed with erotic fire.

  “More,” she said breathlessly. “I want more. It’s never been this good.”

  Slocum was willing, but it took a spell for him to do much about it. He found it a mite restrictive making love in the bed since the ceiling sloped down so low, but as he had always been told, where there’s a will there’s a way.

  He had the will and he found the way, much to their mutual delight.