catching up to do in bed.â
He laughed and took her in his arms. âI think so too.â
âClose the door,â she said and twisted away to go inside.
He did and she began undressing. Waving him over, she quickly shed her clothes and then helped him with his. âI really liked last time, but it only made me want you more.â
They played naked, him on top of her, and soon impatient with him, she inserted his half-full dick inside of her. She spread her legs wide, clutched him, and gasped at his entry. The sparks began to fly from them. The excitement consumed both of them as they raced into a pleasured high. Then he came and they fell into an abyss, lying side by side. So the day went by like a dancing dust devil going right, then left, until they dropped into slumber and woke before sundown.
âWhew,â she said, getting dressed. âI thought sex was wham-bam-thank-you-maâam. Iâm still drunk.â
He swept his hair back with his fingers, sitting on the bedâs edge. âA lot more than that.â
âIâm learning. Iâm learning.â
âYou know I canât stay here forever?â
She stopped and looked serious at him. âYes, I know, but the memories will sustain me.â
âI hope so.â
She made some oatmeal cookies, and they ate part of the batch after her venison supper. It was dark by then and they fell into bed and slept deeply.
The next morning, he saddled their horses, and after breakfast they began their search of the nearby area for any sign of Jenniferâs killers. Several miles from her place on the western slope, he caught a hint of smoke.
âFire around here somewhere,â he said, twisting in the saddle.
She agreed, standing in the stirrups. âA campfire, huh? Where is it?â
âSouth, I guess,â he said, indicating the country to their left.
He soon spotted a sun-browned wall tent with some smoke swirling on the ground around a cooking fire. A short man with hair graying at the temples stood in the flap with a rifle in his hands. He wore a four-crown hat with a nearly flat brim and had the look of someone tough.
âHold up. We ainât looking for trouble,â Slocum said, riding in his direction. âIâm Slocum and this is Wilma.â
He swept off his hat. âCarlton Houston, maâam.â
âWeâre looking for two grubby men who murdered a woman,â Slocum told him.
âSeveral of them up here.â
âDeushay and Roberson.â
âTheyâre camp robbers. They recently raided my things. I went after them and shot at them, but my horse hurt his leg in the chase and they got away down in the canyon.â
âWhen was that?â Slocum asked, stepping off Red.
âA day before that storm.â He set his rifle aside.
âWhat did they steal?â Slocum looked around the sagebrush-clad mountaintop site.
âOh, a good pair of field glasses. Some money I had in a trunk and probably some more of my personal things. Would you like some coffee?â he asked Wilma.
âSure. How long have you been up here?â Dismounted, she looked around at his setup.
âI came down from Montana about a month ago. Why?â
âOh, I usually know most of the folks that populate these mountains.â
âI havenât met many people. Those two came around and I was suspicious, but Iâve been searching for a trophy mountain sheep. I was told there were several in the Bighorn Canyon.â
âIâve seen some around here,â she said and took a place on his log seat near the campfire.
âI have sugar and cream.â
She shook her head.
âDo you know about hunting mountain sheep?â he asked Slocum.
âIâve shot some down in Sonora. Theyâre good eating.â
âI imagine theyâre tasty, but Iâm looking for a trophy head to mount.â
Slocum nodded and sipped on his coffee. He
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