DR. OSWALD SCHWARZ, IN HIS BOOK, THE PSYCHOLOGY OF SEX, WRITES: "FOR THE WOMAN, her sexuality is part of herself, of her being. Therefore.. . the woman is so thoroughly embedded in her sexuality, and her sexuality is so much an element of her existence, that a particular act loses much of its importance for her.. . " Viola was all woman, but one particular act was all-important to her: the seduction of her husband's best friend. And Jud, the chosen stud, found himself torn between friendship, a lust for Spanish gold, and the lusts of Viola and two other women.
CHAPTER I
VIOLA BARTELL WAS STANDING IN ABOUT FOUR feet of water. It came just up to her breasts, the slight waves created by the slow but steady current teasing her nipples. She was completely nude.
Jud sat on the bank, shaded by the thick branches of a willow tree. The grass beneath him was thickly matted, soft and green. It was hard to believe that just a few miles down the mountain was a virtual desert.
"You can come in, Jud," Viola teased. She lifted her arms, beckoning, and the gesture raised her breasts completely out of the water. They were firm and full, the nipples rigid, pink in color.
Jud could hear the rhythmic crack of the hand ax as Sam cleared away a tree that conflicted with what he thought should be the camp site. Sam was stubborn like that. He'd roll over, knock down anything or anybody who got in the way of something he wanted. Jud wondered what he'd think if he knew his wife was standing here naked, with her bare titties above the water line.
"Come on, Jud. Are you chicken?"
She stood on tiptoe, revealing even more of her creamy flesh. Then she bounced on her toes, making her breasts jiggle vibrantly.
"I think it would cause friction on the team," he laughed. How vividly this reflected a situation they'd been in years before, he mused.
Viola laughed, lowering herself back into the water.
"You said that once before, didn't you?" she asked.
"I may have."
"You always were a prude, Jud. A good little boy."
She splashed water toward him, then turned and swam toward the other side, where there was a high bank. Jud watched her body glide along the top of the green water. Her buttocks were firm and inviting, each motion of her thighs as she swam seemingly calculated to ferment his desire.
She reached the far side, where the water was deep, and rested there, holding for support to a bare root that extended out from the bank.
The sound of the ax ceased. Jud tensed, ready to disappear into the willows. Then it resumed again. There was no telling what Sam was chopping down now.
"You know, Jud," Viola called across, "I do sincerely regret that you and I didn't get together back when we had the chance. Just once, anyway. As much as I love Sam, I do wish we could have made it once."
She loosed a burst of musical laughter. Jud didn't know for sure what the meaning of it was, the laughter, but something in it sounded more like open invitation than anything else she'd said or done.
And he regretted it too, now that things had turned out the way they had. It was ironic that he'd passed up the chance he'd had for the good of the team. God, he was a kid in those days! But he was the quarterback and Sam was fullback, and if things had turned out right, they could both have been All-American. And Viola was a blossoming college freshman, wearing Sam's fraternity pin, but making the rounds of the team behind his back. And Jud had passed her up. He didn't like her then. As far as that went, he didn't like her now; but he wanted her. He still wanted her.
"I left my clothes upstream on the bank," Viola called. "Will you get them?"
She gave another little burst of laughter, the laughter that seemed to mock everything except the craving Jud felt for her. Then she turned loose of the root, disappeared under the water. The only sign of her was a slight disturbance at the surface, moving slowly toward him. Then, about midway across the pool, she broke surface again. She treaded water a moment, then dog-paddled on until her feet touched.
"Will you bring my clothes, Jud? Be an angel, huh?"
He stood up, smiling. He started down the steep bank, ducking to keep the willow branches from hitting him in the face or obstructing his vision. She was walking toward him; each step let the water conceal less of her voluptuous body from him. He watched her breasts emerge, jiggling with each step. She smiled, very conscious of his eyes on her. Across the little wooded ridge he could still hear the unceasing pounding of the ax.
Now her torso was bare down to her navel. Her skin glistened with the moisture in the late afternoon sun. Her bosom heaved with her breathing. The smile on her face was wanton, daring him. Jud reached the edge of the water and stood looking at her, considering the pros and cons.
"It's so nice up here," Viola said gaily. "And just down at the foot of the mountain there's nothing but sand and cactus. Why do you think that is, Jud?"
His eyes drifted up and down her body. He tried to fathom the murky water with his vision. He almost could, but what he could see of that part of her anatomy was hazy and dream-like.
"It's probably because there's snow during the winter just a ways up," he said.
She gave out another burst of the laughter, and he realized with a little embarrassment that she was putting him on. She didn't care why it was nice and green here and desert just down the mountain; she just wanted to see how long he could stand there and ignore her naked invitation.
And he was having a hard time ignoring it. But he didn't want to mix pleasure with business; and this was business. At least it had seemed like business when Sam stumbled onto him two nights ago in a bar in Ciudad Juarez and told him the story of an old man who was supposed to be sitting on twenty thousand dollars in Spanish bullion up in the mountains north of El Paso.
At first, Jud hadn't believed him. There are a million stories like that in the Southwest-stories of treasure left by Coronado and the conquistadors. But Sam said there was something to this one, and he had a Spanish coin he'd got off an Indian girl in Las Cruces to prove it. It was the first time Jud had seen Sam in nearly ten years, but he could remember a half-dozen other hair-brained schemes Sam had back in college days; though none were quite as wild as this one. But then, there weren't many schemes with twenty-thousand-dollar payoffs, either. And the more tequila Sam poured down him, the better that Spanish bullion had looked to Jud. Then Sam had told him Viola was with him-married to him. That had been what turned the trick and convinced Jud he had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
"Baby, are you going to get my clothes, or are you coming in with me?" Viola asked with impatience.
She took another step, and the water line dropped down her belly another three inches. She played her body off against that water line the way a belly dancer did with veils.
The ax stopped. "He's finished," Jud said.
"Baby, how long does it take you to learn? Sam trusts you. He always did. Remember?"
Jud remembered. Sam had once left them alone together for a whole night. That was when he'd have made it with her, if he'd had any sense.
"Yeah, I remember," he said. "I'll get your clothes."
He turned away quickly and walked back up along the edge of the creek. He passed under a thick growth of willows along a shallow, narrow place in the stream, then emerged on another green, sloping bank. Her clothes were lying in a neat pile at the edge of the water. Jud glanced back downstream. There was a gradual bend, and from here he couldn't see the pool where she was, nor the bank where he'd been lounging, enjoying a few moments' rest in the shade after the day's hike.
Then an idea hit him. He made his way up the slope, halfway to the top of the ridge, and looked back down in the direction he'd come from. He nodded to himself, now understanding completely: From here he could clearly see where he'd been. Viola had seen him from here; then she'd gone down to the water, undressed and swum down, pretending to be surprised when she looked up and saw him watching her. Pretty damn cagey, he thought. And pretty obvious, too.
Jud picked up her clothes and made his way back through the willows to where she waited in the hip-deep water.
"You're a dear, Jud," she said brightly.
She arched her shoulders, accenting the full firmness of her breasts. He glanced nervously up the ridge. If Sam were to appear now . . . that's all he'd need. That would blow everything.
He put the clothes down as neatly as he could on the bank, and looked back at her. He grinned.
"You know," he said; "if you were my wife and I thought you were fooling around like this, I'd take my belt to you and skin your ass alive."
She smiled, her emerald eyes radiating lust. "I might like that."
Still grinning, Jud shook his head. "Viola, you're a real bitch."
He turned quickly and started up the slope. He was thinking about the time before when he'd said the same thing to her-that night when Sam had gone horny and left the two of them to stay the night in his apartment. Not, Jud realized now, because he'd trusted Jud, and not because he trusted Viola. It was more that he trusted himself. Sam just couldn't imagine a woman cheating on him. That was another aspect of him; it went along with his stubborness. And all the time, Viola was bouncing from the back seat of one car to another every time Sam turned his back-making it with as many guys as she could, and keeping count as if it were some great achievement. Maybe that was why Jud had turned her down that night-looked at her standing in front of Sam's bed with nothing on but a pair of nearly transparent pants, and shook his head and walked out. Maybe he hadn't wanted to be just another name on her list. But now he regretted it, as much as he still disliked her.
"Jud!" she called after him.
He stopped and turned slowly around. She was standing on the bank now. Her clothes were still piled at her feet. Her creamy skin glistened, accenting the head-to-toe perfection of her nakedness.
"Do you think we'll ever make it, Jud?"
He looked at her for a long time, studying the beauty of her body. Then he nodded his head. "Yeah, Viola, we'll make it. But I'll pick the time."
Before she could answer, he turned and walked on up to the ridge.
Sam was busy with the tent, having a little trouble getting it up by himself. "Where the hell you been?" he roared, then laughed in his good-natured way.
"Just scoutin' around," Jud said.
Shortly after that, Viola came back. Jud and Sam had pitched the tent. They'd gathered kindling, and used it to start a fire with wood from the tree Sam had so doggedly cut to make room for the tent where he thought it should. Viola cooked them a big meal from the supplies they'd brought-cooked too much, actually, because if they continued to eat like they did that first night on the trail, they'd be completely dependent on the mythical mountaineer they were seeking, not only to lead them to the treasure, but for their very subsistence. Jud mentioned this, but Sam told him to relax; things would take care of themselves.
They talked for a while, filling each other in on the details of their lives since they'd been suspended for violation of athletic restrictions. Of course they'd been through all this two nights ago in Ciudad Juarez, but there were still details to be filled in. And Jud noted that there was a striking similarity between their lives. They'd both been football heroes first during their college days-everything else was secondary. When the football bubble had burst, during an illegal recruiting scandal which had set West Coast college football back to the stone age, both of them had been left with nothing to hang onto, and both had dropped out of school fairly quickly. They'd both become drifters, moving purposelessly from one job to another. The outstanding difference was that Sam had married Viola, thus clinging to at least a remnant of his old glory days.
Talk of shiftlessness and irresponsibility, of moving without direction around the country, eventually led them back to the present purpose, the treasure. And though he'd heard the details already, Jud wanted to hear them again-as much for the sake of conversation as anything else.
Sam had first heard rumors of the treasure in Las Cruces. He hadn't taken them seriously until he'd come up to Baja Montana on a hunting trip. An Indian girl in a tourist shop had accidentally given him a strange-looking coin in change when he bought Viola a gift. He'd asked where she got the coin, and she told him her cousin had given it to her. She wanted it back, but on an impulse Sam had persuaded her to sell it to him for five dollars. Late that night, the girl had come to his motel room, and asked him to give the coin back. She said selling it to him had been a mistake, and her cousin would be furious. Sam lied that he'd given the coin to a friend, but would get it back the next day. Then he left.
His curiosity stirred, he'd stopped at the library in Las Cruces and done some research on Spanish exploration, learning that Coronado's expedition had passed through this area and might well have buried gold somewhere on the mountain. Then he checked on treasure hunting in the area, and learned that an old man and an Indian girl had gone up the mountain a few months earlier and hadn't returned. He took the coin to a dealer in El Paso, not wanting to arouse curiosity in Las Cruces. The dealer authenticated the coin as Spanish bullion of the Coronado era, and was very interested in learning where it was found.
That night, Sam had run into Jud in the bar in Ciudad Juarez. He'd known the minute he saw Jud-not believing his eyes, he said-that Jud was meant to go with him. In fact, that was the first time Sam had really been convinced that there was something of substance to the treasure story. He'd needed a man he could trust, and miraculously, Jud had appeared.
Through the whole night, Viola was an angel. She spoke at all the right times, said all the right things. Sam could suspect nothing. But at equally correct times, she let go a calculated burst of that distant, musical, mocking laughter. And each time, Jud heard in it the sound of fresh invitation.
CHAPTER 2
JUD WAS AWAKENED BY VIOLA'S VOICE, AND somehow he knew she'd intended it.
"Sam!" she said throatily. "Let's make love. Come on, Sam!"
"Shhhh!" Jud heard Sam say. But at the same time he could hear the other man's hoarse breathing.
Jud worked his arm out of his sleeping bag. A glance at his watch told him it was just before midnight; he'd been asleep a little over an hour. There was a clear sky, and the moon was almost full. The night was crisp rather than cold. Just at his back, not ten feet away, Viola was nestled in the other sleeping bag with Sam. A sardonic grin crossed Jud's face as he remembered that he'd offered to sleep outside so they could have the privacy of the tent. But Viola had said she wanted to sleep outside, too, and under the guise of protection in closeness-protection from what, Jud didn't know she'd insisted that Sam spread their sleeping bag near Jud's.
For a moment or two there was silence, followed by a stirring and rustling Jud presumed to be the two bodies shifting position in the bag. He pulled the flaps of his own bag around his ears, snuggling up and closing his eyes again.
"Oh, baby!" he heard Sam whisper.
Then he became aware of another sound, very rhythmic-something rubbing against cloth.
"Oh, yeah!" Sam said again, something in the tone of his voice reflecting all the conceit and egoism Jud remembered so well.
"Do you like that?" Viola whispered teasingly.
The sounds continued, and the velocity of the motion increased. Jud didn't have much trouble figuring out what she was doing to him.
"Yeah, I like it," Sam answered in something like a stage whisper.
Then the rhythmic motion slowed, and finally stopped completely. Sam gave a tense sigh.
"I don't want to cheat myself," Jud heard Viola explain. This was followed by the sound of the sleeping bag's zipper opening.
"Now what?" Sam asked with impatience.
"I don't think we can very well take our clothes off without getting out of this damn bag. Do you?"
"Jeesus!" Sam said. "What do you have to take your clothes off now for? I tried to get you to earlier, and you said it was too cold. Hell, just pull your britches down."
Jud remembered that she'd said it was so cold they ought to sleep in their clothes. So that had been calculated too, just like everything else she'd done tonight. It was all part of her plan.
"I don't know about you, brother," Viola growled, "but if I'm going to make it, I want to be naked all the way. There's a little more to it from a woman's angle than just what's between her legs."
"Show some class."
"Baby, you wouldn't know class if it grabbed you by the balls!"
Jud couldn't hold back snicker. It was followed by a dead silence which lasted, he was sure, a full minute. "Did you hear that?" Sam asked at length. "What?"
"Jud. I think he's awake."
"No, Sam, he's sleeping like a log."
"Jud?" Sam whispered loudly. Then he repeated it, a little above a whisper. "Jud!"
Right then he should have rolled over, rubbing his eyes, and pretended to have been awakened. That would have cooked her good. Sam would have gone cold on her, and the whole thing would have been frustration. That's what he should have done, but he didn't. He shifted restlessly, as if he'd been disturbed but not quite awakened. And he wondered with a taste of disgust if he didn't want to listen to them.
"He's asleep," Viola said.
Sam sighed. "I guess you're right."
There was more rustling as Viola got out of the sleeping bag, then the sounds of her taking her clothes off.
And Jud remembered another college night, when Sam was still living in the dorm and they'd come over to spend the night at Jud's place, which was nothing but a bedroom, a kitchen and a bath. He'd given them the bed and spread himself a pallet on the floor. He'd been drinking, so he fell asleep quickly. Viola had almost stumbled over him on the way to the bathroom. She'd been naked, and she'd just stood there in a shaft of moonlight that filtered through the window. She'd stared down at him, a daring smile on her face, her body glistening. Finally she'd gone on to the can, then back to bed and made love as loud as he'd ever heard, never once letting on to Sam that she knew Jud was awake. And he knew she'd awakened him on purpose, just as she had tonight.
"Take yours off too," he heard Viola say now. "And hurry up, baby; my little bare ass is freezing."
He could hear Sam shifting around in the bag, working his trousers off, and he knew Viola was standing there naked in the moonlight, waiting for him to look around. And he wanted to look, but he held himself back, forced himself to continue to pretend sleep.
"All right, I'm coming in," she said.
Jud heard her slide back into the bag, heard their bodies shifting around again.
"Feel how cold I am," she said huskily. "Feel my nipples; they're frozen hard. Feel that?"
For a moment neither of them spoke, but their breathing became increasingly loud, and Jud could feel his own craving build involuntarily with theirs.
"Let me on top," he heard Viola plead, and he knew the tremble in her voice was the one thing that wasn't fabricated for his ears.
There was more shifting of bodies, then: "You just be still, Sam baby. Let me do the whole thing, huh?"
"Yeah," Sam sighed. "Yeah."
She gave a little cry, then a series of animal sounds escaped from her. There was a pleading and urgency to these cries, and then a little sigh of relief escaped her, and it was complemented by a similar sigh from Sam. That was followed by a hush, and Jud knew they'd made their contact.
The hush lasted only an instant. Then again there was stirring, slow at first, smoothly rhythmic. The motion of their bodies was accented by purring sounds from Viola.
With each stroke, the motion built, and the noises that came from her throat also increased. Jud tried to close his ears, but he couldn't. He had to listen. "Oh, Sam!" Viola wailed.
The motion was building toward a crescendo, and their breathing reflected the abandon of their pleasure. "Oh, yes! Sam!"
Suddenly Jud's head turned. He hadn't been able to stop it. He had to see.
The sleeping bag was still open. Viola was in a squat on top of Sam, and her body held the top of the bag up, giving Jud a perfect view. She was rocking madly, lifting and letting herself fall, her loins pounding furiously against Sam's. Her breasts dangled in his face, and one hand cupped one of them as the other dug into her hip.
And now, as they reached the peak, they were completely oblivious of Jud. He could watch with impunity now, even if his craving for her did disgust him.
"Oh, please!" Viola screamed.
She buried her head in Sam's shoulder, whimpering in her pleasure. He arched his body up and she rotated her hips in wild contortions. The motions hit their peak, and following one last delirious cry, Viola sighed with relief and pleasure. Her body fell limp; her full breasts flattened against Sam's broad, muscular chest. And she looked over at Jud.
Her eyes met his, and for a moment they just stared at each other. Then he rolled over and buried himself deep in the lonely warmth of his sleeping bag. Viola was one up on him.
It was a long time before he went to sleep.
CHAPTER 3
THEY WERE UP AT DAYBREAK THE NEXT morning. Jud stoked up the fire, and Viola fixed them sausage and scrambled eggs. Jud calculated they had food for three more days.
There was no mention of what had happened the night before. Sam obviously believed Jud had heard nothing. But every time she got the chance, Viola showed him a smirk that regenerated his pounding desire to get even with her. He was beginning to feel like he'd spent his whole life listening to Sam and Viola screwing.
That wasn't quite the case. Jud was a good-looking man-better looking than Sam, though not quite so brawny. He'd had a string of girls a mile long after him since he passed puberty, and when he dropped out of college and went to work as a car salesman, he did a short stint as a playboy type. Then he'd gotten tired of selling cars, and made it for a while in New York as a kind of gigolo. But all that wasn't doing him much good now.
They finished eating and began taking down the tent. Viola took the dishes down to the creek to wash them, and Jud debated making up some excuse and going after her, but decided the time wasn't right. He could wait.
"As best I can guess," Sam said as they worked with the tent, "we should be in the area of that hermit's place by late this afternoon."
"Then what do we do?" Jud asked distantly. He was still thinking of Viola. The bitch.
"I don't know for sure. We'll have to look around; find him; see what he says. Then decide."
"I've got a feeling he'll find us before we find him," Jud answered.
Viola came back over the ridge, glowing against a background of sunrise. She wore a pair of tight jeans, and a shirt tied up in a knot just beneath her breasts. There was about a foot of the bare stomach visible, from a couple of inches below her navel right up to the fold of her breasts. He had to admit she looked good.
They folded the tent and packed it, then packed the dishes and food. They army surplus gear, and though the loads were reasonably heavy, they weren't especially cumbersome. A foot soldier carries about sixty pounds; Jud's guess was that they had less than forty apiece. But it was no picnic, either. He wasn't as young as he'd been when they were calling him a cinch for All-American.
Once loaded, they set off again. The trial was good at times; at other times it almost disappeared. Fortunately there was no real climbing involved, but the gradual upgrade was turning Jud's once finely toned legs into a bundle of knots.
Once when they stopped to rest a hawk flew over, and Sam took a couple shots at it with the deer rifle he'd brought along, but missed. They got up and went on. The secret was to keep putting one foot in front of the next, no matter how grueling that simple matter became.
With the sun straight overhead and hot despite the mountain breeze, they stopped to eat a lunch of sandwiches. Afterward they smoked and rested a while, then got up and trudged on. They stuck fairly close to the stream-at least there was no danger of being without water, and the chances were that the old mountaineer would also be close to the water.
Once they encountered a fairly steep incline, almost a bluff, and here they did have to climb. When they reached the top, they were above the scrubby trees that covered the mountainside, and could see all the way down. Far below and away was the desert, and the greenness between them and it was like something out of a dream. They stopped and looked at the view for a while, the endless plains of New Mexico stretching westward, and then they went on.
As they drove themselves upward, the mountainside became more rugged. They had to leave the stream for a while, as the trail wound away from it. They grew tired, hot, thirsty, and tempers became sharp as blisters swelled on their feet. Viola complained, and Jud raged for her to shut up. Sam looked at him in amazement and said nothing. They walked on through the afternoon.
It was still long before dusk when they reached what looked to be an endless plateau, covered by scrubby trees. The peak of the mountain which had guided them disappeared, and so did the trail. They paused, rested, did their best to get their bearings from the direction of the sun. Then, though still uncertain about their bearings, they started on through the chaparral. After about a mile, they stopped to rest.
"What do you think, Cap'in?" Sam asked Jud.
Jud had been captain of the football team, and as quarterback he'd called all the plays. But Sam had been calling the shots thus far on this excursion.
"I don't know. I guess we keep walking."
"Let's camp," Viola said.
"We'll keep going!" Sam snapped with impatience. "And don't you start whimpering. I don't know why I brought a woman along on this anyway."
Viola puckered her lips in a pout, her face reflecting great hurt.
"Oh, I'm sorry, baby," Sam said. "We'll camp soon enough. Or maybe that old man will have a place we can sleep."
Jud was thinking about how much simpler it would have been if Sam hadn't brought Viola along. But it was too late to worry about that now. They couldn't very well send her down the hill by herself.
Sam laughed. "Maybe Jud can keep himself warm with that Indian broad who's supposed to be with the old coot. How'd you like that, Jud? A fat squaw to keep you warm. I bet she could show you some tricks, though."
"Sam!" It was Viola who spoke, and something in her tone stopped Sam short, and sent a chill through Jud.
They both looked at her, and she pointed with her finger. They turned in the direction she indicated.
Jud had expected to see about four Indian braves-the ghost of Geronimo among them-ready to take their scalps. But it was only a boy, and he wasn't Indian.
He was very young, judging from the delicate quality of his face. His eyes were blue and wide, and a few locks of sandy-gold hair hung down beneath the tattered western hat he wore. He had on a ragged denim shirt and a pair of faded Levi's. His hands had the same delicate quality as his face.
For a moment the child just stared at them in wide-eyed surprise, and they stared back with equal shock. He was not more than ten feet away, standing between two scrubby cedars.
Sam was the first to speak. "Come on over, boy?" he said cautiously.
The child didn't move. "Come on," Sam coaxed.
Sam eased himself to his feet. He held out his hand as if offering candy. He took a hesitant step forward, and the boy took a step back.
Sam took another step. "Don't be afraid," he said in a near whisper.
He took one more step, and the kid turned and bolted. Sam made a flying dive. Extending his hands, managed to grab the boy's shirt at the back. But the kid wasn't waiting, shirt or no shirt. He went right running, and left the denim shirt like a tear-away jersey in Sam's hands.
Except it wasn't a kid. At least it wasn't a he. Jud saw that as soon as the shirt came ripping off, and he was sure of it when the fleeing figure turned to look back. Naked to the waist, she was unmistakably a girl-maybe young; certainly not fully developed, but the small, firm breasts, .nipples swollen and pink, were two of the most appetizing mouthfuls Jud had seen in a long time. The hat fell off, too. The sandy-gold hair was cropped short, but it went well with her face. Actually she was very pretty.
Then, before Jud had time for further evaluation, she disappeared into the trees.
Sam still lay flat on his face on the ground. Tiredly he lifted himself on his elbows, looking helplessly at the ragged remains of the shirt clenched in his fist. "Damn it!" he said. "I almost had 'im!"
Jud glanced at Viola. She looked a little dazed. He smiled at her, then remembered what he thought of her and changed the smile to a sneer.
"Yeah, Sam, you almost got him. But it wasn't a him."
Sam looked up stupidly. Jud grinned wider.
"That was a girl, Sam. Can't you tell the difference?"
Sam looked at him, then at Viola. She began to laugh, and the laughter caught in Jud. Sam got to his feet, irked at first, but then he started laughing too.
The laughter lasted a full five minutes. It was a pouring out of the tensions that had been building up all day. But at the same time it was a reflection of a newer tension, an anticipation. For each of them knew that in some way or other, this girl would be connected with the treasure. If there was a treasure.
"Did you see which way she went?" Sam asked when the laughing had stopped.
"That away!" Jud said, mimicking the movie cliche.
"I'm serious," Sam snapped. "We've got to get after the little bitch!"
"Well, come on then," said Jud.
They got up and started double-timing it through the woods. Viola was still laughing for a while; then she skinned her arm on a branch and started complaining again. Sam told her to shut up, and they pushed on through the trees.
They covered about a half-mile before they came to a wide clearing, perhaps a quarter-mile across. On the far side, the peak of the mountain rose like a pyramid, and at its foot was a tiny shack.
They held up at the edge of the clearing. "That's probably the hermit's place," said Sam, panting like a dog.
"So what now?" Jud asked.
Sam wriggled out of the heavy pack on his back and let it drop to the ground. "I guess we make an appearance and see what's gonna happen."
He stepped cautiously into the clearing, paused a minute, then started walking. Jud was going to follow, but then he saw a gleam of metal as what he knew must be a rifle barrel protruded from one of the cabin windows:
"Sam!" he warned.
like an accent to his words, a shot rang out. Sam dived to the ground, then scurried back toward the brush. The rifle cracked again as he reached the trees.
"Damn it, I musta been crazy!" he raged.
He withdrew the 30-30 from its scabbard on his pack. He slid across the ground to the edge of the clearing. The cabin door opened and a gray-haired, gray-bearded old man emerged. A rifle was slung lazily across his arm. Sam aimed quickly and fired. The old man didn't flinch; just stood where he was.
Sam took more careful aim.
"Sam!" Jud shouted, knocking the rifle barrel into the dirt.
Sam whirled angrily on him.
"What do you want to do, kill him?" Jud shouted. "Then I guess we dig this whole mountainside up till we find it?"
Sam glared at him sullenly, then looked back over his shoulder toward the cabin. Jud saw that Viola was lying behind one of the' larger trees, farther into the brush. When he looked back at the cabin, the old man was still standing there.
"I didn't come up here to kill an old man and steal his gold," Jud said.
"What do you think we're going to do?"
"If the gold's here, we'll get our share. But we're not killing anybody. Not me, anyway."
He glared at Sam, realizing for the first time how wide was the breach between their ideas. What if the old coot did have half a million dollars piled in the corner of that little shack? It was an interesting thought.
"I came after that gold!" Sam said sullenly, as if to explain his position on the question.
"All right. I did too. But take it easy until we at least find out what's going on."
He looked over at Viola. She'd crept out from behind the tree, and was just watching them. Jud saw nothing in her face to indicate whether she'd taken sides as yet.
"Then what do you suggest we do now?" Sam asked.
"We pitch camp. We stay here. We wait and watch. For a while, anyway."
They both looked back at the cabin. The old man wasn't standing there any more.
"And we quit fighting among ourselves," Jud added.
Sam got to his feet. "All right, you can be quarterback for a while more. But just be damn sure you call the plays right. I don't plan on leaving without that gold." He glared at Jud.
Moving very slowly, they tiptoed on through the brush. Jud suddenly regretted that he hadn't brought a gun on the trip. He could have picked one up cheap enough in Juarez. Not that he had any intention of a gunfight with the old mountaineer; the odds probably wouldn't be very good. He was sure the old man could have picked Sam off if he'd been trying. It was Sam that Jud didn't trust. It was something about the look in Sam's eyes when he'd said he wasn't leaving without the gold. Jud had heard about what gold could do to a man. It was a lust, like the lust for a woman, but the game was even more deadly when the stake was gold.
Jud glared back for a while, then took his pack off and carried it back about twenty paces, to a place where there was room to pitch the tent among the trees. "We'll camp here," he said.
Sam nodded. "What about water?"
"The stream can't be more than a quarter-mile through the woods," he said, gesturing north. "Because it winds around behind that cabin, if you looked closely."
"Yeah, I looked," said Sam. "We need a couple of days' water now-in case he gets us pinned down or something."
Jud nodded. "Give me the gun and I'll watch the cabin. You and Viola take the canteens and empty one pack. It'll hold water."
Sam shook his head. "No," he said, accusation sharp in tone, "I'll keep the gun. You an' Viola go for water."
Jud looked at Viola. Her eyes met his, but betrayed nothing. He turned back to Sam and nodded.
"All right, Sam, you keep the gun and watch the cabin."
CHAPTER 4
JUD LED THE WAY THROUGH THE TREES WITH Viola at his heels, both careful not to step where dry underbrush might make unnecessary noise. There was always the possibility that the old coot at the cabin might get aggressive, might be sneaking up on them. Without speaking of it, he and Viola were both aware of the danger.
The animosity between them had for the moment disappeared, just as it had come to focus between Jud and Sam.
Finally they heard the gurgle of the stream. Jud paused; Viola looked at him with sharp anticipation. "It's just over there," he whispered.
He started quietly in the direction of the sound.
"Shhhh," he cautioned her, holding a finger to his lips. "It may be in sight of the cabin, and it's probably in the open."
Finally they reached the end of the cedar woods, and Jud peered out. There were about thirty yards of open space between the trees and the creek, which was marked by a winding line of thicker foliage and dwarf willows.
Viola knelt beside him. Her hand touched his arm, holding him. He saw by the look in her eyes that it was a completely unconscious gesture; she was staring at the creek.
"Well, they can't see us from the cabin," Jud said. "I'll make a dash first. Then if there's no shooting, you follow."
She shook her head. "I'll go with you. If we stay close together, we make a small target, and we make it only once."
She had a point there. "Okay," Jud said, taking her hand with his free one. "Come on."
Crouched and close together, they made a dash across the clearing, ducked in among the willows and slid off the embankment down to the gravel bed beside the shallow, narrow stream. There, still crouched, still holding hands, they waited. Nothing happened.
"Well?" she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. We didn't get shot; that's all I can say."
But he could have said something else. He could have said that he was almost sure they were being watched, though he didn't know what made him think so. It was just a feeling-maybe just nerves.
Slowly he released his hold on her hand. She looked at him, her eyes telling him nothing. Then she slid across to the water and began to fill her canteens. He sat where he was, forcing his nervousness to the back of his mind, his eyes studying her from behind-the full curves of her hips in the tight trousers, the rounded thighs with the clothe pulled taut around them, the stretch of bare flesh that was visible between the top of the jeans and the bottom of the shirt, the well defined line of her spine. And the more he thought of the fact that the old mountaineer could be a complete kook, could appear and blow their brains out at any minute, the more vividly his memory pictured for him her body as he'd seen it yesterday and last night. But now he felt no animosity-only the craving for her. And the craving possessed his whole being, and there was seemingly nothing he could do about it.
She finished filling the last of the canteens, strung them together on a piece of rope, then straightened and turned back to him. His eyes met hers, and she stopped, motionless. His gaze traveled down, then back up the length of her body. Then he waited, looking into her eyes. When he spoke, it wasn't like his own voice:
"I told you I'd name the time, Viola."
Her blue eyes widened with shock. She didn't answer, and there was a long silence before he spoke again.
"I think now's the time."
She stood there a minute longer, seemingly entranced by his confidence. Finally she leaned over and placed the canteens on the ground. She straightened up slowly, reaching up to the shirt. There were only three buttons, and these she loosened quickly, till only the knotted tails held the shirt together. She placed her hands on the knot and pulled until it came loose. The shirt fell open in the front, revealing the full cleavage of her breasts, arched up tightly by a flimsy black bra.
Her eyes still on him, she pulled the shirt open, then let it slide off her shoulders and fall to the ground. Her skin was cream-white against the bra, her breasts seemingly on the verge of spilling over its top. She reached behind her back and undid the snap. The bra fell loose, and for a moment she let it hang there, precariously supported by her breasts. Just a hint of a smile crossed her face.
"Jud, I've waited a long time for this, And I don't mean that bitchy or anything, I just.. . mean it."
She pulled the straps off her shoulders, letting them slide down her arms. As the cups fell away, Jud could see that her nipples were already rigid, as if the mere exposure excited them to the point of pleading for his touch.
He smiled. "Yeah, I guess I have too-been waiting a long time."
"But we never thought it would happen this way," she said.
She lifted one foot and pulled her boot off, then the sock, and repeated this on the other foot as Jud removed his shirt.
"No, Viola, you bitch, I don't guess thought it would be like this at all." His smile broadened. "And I don't mean that as an insult, either."
She began unbuttoning her jeans. He could see her black panties as she opened them at the front. Then she hesitated, her eyes studying his lean, muscular body. She grasped the jeans, hooked her thumbs into the elastic at the top of her pants, and slowly pushed both garments down, getting all the play she could out of the revelation of the dark crest of her beauty, and all the assets that surrounded it-the full outward curve of flanks, the firm roundness of thighs, the creamy skin.
Just for effect, she added a slight wriggle of her pelvis as she slid the covering off the dark triangle of hair.
This gesture somehow completed the splendor of her undressing. It was the perfect touch, because it restricted the process of removing her clothing to a preparation for the act of lovemaking.
She kicked the jeans and panties off her ankles and stood perfectly still, perfectly naked for him.
"You don't think Sam will leave the camp?" she asked.
Jud was already unbuttoning his trousers. Sam! He wished she hadn't mentioned him, but for some reason, he now felt no guilt at all for what he was doing.
"No. There's too much for him to carry, and he can't go off and leave the supplies. At least he can't come this far."
That reassured him as much as it did her, but it didn't completely erase from his mind the feeling that they weren't alone.
Jud finished opening his trousers, and stepped out of them. Viola glanced around, then walked toward him.
"Over there." She pointed toward a sandy spot against the embankment.
She walked toward him, picking her way on the gravel, and he stood where he was, watching her. There was something ritualistic about her slow, calculated steps. Each was accompanied by something not un-like an undulation, but not quite that either. It was just a vague motion that seemed to flow through her whole body, as if she were pulsing inside.
"Oh, Jud!" she sighed, burying her head in the curve of his neck.
Something restrained him; his hands still hung loosely at his sides. Her flesh was there, waiting for him, her nipples inviting his touch, yet he could not move. And for the same strange reason, he couldn't let himself return the kisses she was planting on his neck and shoulders. He couldn't explore her flesh with his lips, not matter how much he wanted to-couldn't let himself return her passion.
She directed him toward the bed of sand. He moved willingly with her, but when they reached it he stood as he was, enjoying the brush of her breasts against him, the warmth of her belly, but still unable to return the passion.
She tiptoed up, looking searchingly into his eyes before she covered his mouth with hers. She pleaded for response with her tongue, and her hands wantonly explored his body. Then she dropped down from her toes, moving back from him half a step.
"You still hate me, don't you?" she asked, her voice calm, though her breathing was harsh.
He just looked at her. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to: She could sec that he wanted her, and at the same time she could see that a part of him-a last outpost of prudishness-was repelled by her. There was no hiding it.
"I know," she said. "You still hate me and you always will. That's what makes you different. I've always been able to make guys do just about what I wanted them to. Just let them have the right thing at the right time. I thought I had you, too, but I don't. And that just makes me want you more."
Suddenly she dropped to her knees before him. He looked down. She sifted the sand thoughtfully through her fingers, then looked up pleadingly. "Jud, I'm going to make it so good for you, you'll either quit hating me or you'll have to kill me, you'll hate me so much."
Her hand moved quickly, grasping his rigid malness. For a moment her fingers played on him so lightly he could hardly be sure they were there. A tremor went through his legs. Then her hold became more firm, and she began a smooth, expert motion. She was looking up at his face, studying him for hints of mounting desire.
Then, at a calculated moment, she stopped. Her hand remained on him, but didn't move. It was almost like pain, the momentary frustration of it, but then as her hand left him, sliding around his flank to rest on his hip, she replaced the hand with her mouth. He slid quickly and miraculously up to a new plane of pleasure.
Gently and expertly she began to tease him with her lips and tongue. She moved her head ever so slightly, sliding her lips up and down his cock, sometimes scratching him lightly with her teeth, always building toward the crescendo.
A great feeling of power surged in him as he watched her on her knees before him, but it was accompanied by a weakness, a realization of the power she held over him. He knew he still had to make it clear that it was he who, was in command. For one reason it had to be that way. She was the kind of woman a man had to stay one up on.
Jud grabbed her head, holding her to him for one last pleasure-tortured moment before he pushed her away, violently shoving her back on the soft, cool sand. He dropped to his knees over her, grasping her wrists and quickly pinning her arms. Now he was back in control, and that was where he'd stay.
Before she had time to get over her surprise, he lowered his body onto hers, shifting about until he could fit his cock to her ready labia. Then he drove himself ruthlessly in.
"Jud?" she gasped, seeming to question the reality of the presence that had invaded her.
She sighed, then cried out as he pushed against the last bit of friction and resistance, driving in to the hilt. She arched her hips up, and he felt her hands on his buttocks, clinging, holding him in. For an instant they both relaxed, and then he began to move.
He wasted no time with tenderness. She wasn't the type who would appreciate it. From the instant he began, he moved violently, driven by furious passion, and she responded in the same way. He kept her hands pinned, and she struggled to release them, but more of the struggling was done with her hips and loins than with her arms. She writhed like a maddened creature beneath him, she cried out, she twisted her body, arching up to meet his violent thrusts as if to bounce him off her. She bit at his neck, the flesh of his shoulders. And Jud arched his back and lowered his head to her breasts, taking her hardened nipples one by one in his mouth, sucking as if he would tear them from her body.
And from this initial madness they built onward, rising up to the crescendo as all the wrath of everything he hated about her and all the hunger of his wanting her exploded from deep inside him and burst into her. She felt it, and cried out in delirium, throwing her legs up around him, squeezing him so tightly he thought it would break his back.
When his motion slacked off, her legs stayed locked about him. She relaxed the struggling of her arms, and her eyes closed.
He released his grip on her hands, his body sagging on hers. Slowly her arms slid up around him, her fingers running gently over the muscles of his back.
"Jud," she whispered tiredly, "that was the best I've had in so long.. . "
He breathed in deeply, lifting himself up on his arms, looking down at her with neither passion nor contempt. She opened her eyes and looked back. He felt she could almost love him, if he would let her. But that was a bit out of the question, of course.
Quickly he withdrew from her and got to his feet.
"Jud!" she gasped in disappointment.
"We're overdue, baby," he said, beginning to put his clothes on.
She sat up in the sand. A little coat of perspiration made her body gleam in the dusky light. As he dressed, Jud looked around furtively, apprehensively.
"Oh, god, I hate to go back to him!" she said tiredly.
"Shhh!" Jud held a finger to his lips. He listened intently for a moment.
Viola held herself almost frozen, listening too, until he shrugged and pulled his trousers on.
"Did you hear something?" she asked.
'There's no way of knowing," he answered. "Just get dressed, and let's get back."
She stood where she was, looking at him with awe.
"Get dressed!" he snapped.
Now she moved quickly to her clothes. She put on her pants, then her trousers. Then she stopped. Jud was buttoning his shirt already. Still naked to the waist, her full breasts bouncing as she moved, she came back over to him.
"Jud?"
"What?" he said impatiently.
"Are you sorry you did it?"
He, laughed. "No. I'm not a bit sorry. It might even happen again sometime. But don't count too much on it."
Beaten, for a moment at least, she walked back to her clothes and finished dressing.
CHAPTER 5
JUD FILLED THE PACK WITH WATER. IT LEAKED A little, but not much. This would probably ruin it, but right now that didn't matter. Besides, it was Sam's.
Then he and Viola climbed the embankment and peered into the clearing that separated them from the woods. They could see no one, either here or in the line of cedars that was their immediate destination.
"Looks like it's all clear," Viola said.
Jud nodded. But then his eyes slowly descended to the sandy earth. There were footprints. As best he could tell, they led from the trees to here-the edge of the embankment-and then back toward the woods. They didn't have to be fresh; they could have been made a week ago. They could also have been made just a few minutes ago. But at least they weren't Sam's: Jud's guess was that they'd been made by moccasins.
He saw no reason to tell Viola. If there was any new danger, they'd know soon enough, and there was nothing they could do about it anyway.
"Okay, let's go," he said.
The pack, filled with water, was too heavy for him to run with, so as quickly as they could, they walked the distance to the tree line. They paused here for a moment's rest, then started on toward the prospective camp site. They didn't talk.
When they were about a hundred yards from where they'd left Sam, Jud heard a movement in the underbrush. He said nothing, but he stopped and held Viola back. He waited motionless, listening intently for another sound, his eyes searching the undergrowth around them.
"Pssssst!" a voice said in a whisper. "Jud!"
It was Sam. Jud looked in the direction of the sound and saw him crouched in the thicket, barely visible. He had the gun with him, and was gesturing with his arm. At first the gesture was unclear, and Sam repeated it. The only thing Jud could see that it might mean was for them to keep going and pretend they hadn't heard. He took Viola's arm and led her on through the trees, past the camouflaged figure of her husband.
"Don't look back," Jud whispered, still holding Viola's arm and marching her onward like a naughty child.
Dusk was fast changing into night. Darkness was covering the forest.
They walked perhaps another fifty yards. Through the trees ahead of them they could see the tent, already pitched. Behind them the rustling in the brush, and they stopped, waiting. The sound increased to a violent thrashing that could only mean a struggle. Jud dropped the heavy pack, debating whether to wait here or start back to help Sam. Then the thrashing stopped, and there was a scream-the scream of a girl.
They heard Sam's voice: "Got you!"
Viola and Jud looked at each other. He shrugged in answer to the question her eyes registered.
"Wait and see," he said. "It sounds like Sam came out on top-of whoever it was."
In a moment the rustling resumed, but it was a slightly different sound.
"He's bringing her," Jud said, looking at Viola's voluptuous body and marveling at how quickly a little intrigue had taken his mind off what he'd just done with her.
"The girl we saw earlier?" she asked.
"Probably. Unless there are two of them. And that's a little hard to believe."
"The first one was hard to believe."
The rustling came nearer.
"Sam?" Jud hollered. "You all right?"
"Yeah, I'm all right if I can keep my fingers out of this she-wolfs mouth. Get your ass back here and help out a little!"
Jud looked at Viola, grinning. "Come on."
They left the water pack and canteens and made their way hurriedly back through the brush. But when they reached Sam, they had a surprise: It wasn't the girl who looked like a boy; apparently, it was the old hermit's squaw.
"Hey, Jud," said Sam with a laugh, holding the girl with a hammerlock, "this ain't hardly what you expected, is it?"
It wasn't. She was perhaps eighteen, maybe twenty; it was hard to say. She was the most striking figure Jud had ever seen. Writhing and twisting like a wild cat, she refused to submit to the arm-breaking hold the burly ex-fullback had on her. Her hair was long and black, tied in a braid that reached almost to her hips. Her eyes were also black, and now wide and furious. Her skin was coppery, the color of a new penny. She was dressed from head to toe in rough leather-a tight, jacket-like shirt, tied together with thongs in the front but open enough to reveal the cleavage of otherwise unhampered breasts; tight, rough leather trousers stretched like rawhide over the fullness of her hips, making her lithe legs look perhaps even longer and more slender than they really were; and moccasins on her feet. The deep red-brown of the rough leather was the perfect compliment to her raven hair and copper skin, and on a closer look Jud could see the points of her nipples to either side of the dark cleavage.
She glared at Jud, then at Viola. In her eyes, it seemed they could see all the hatred that had built up in two centuries of the slaughter and abuse of her ancestors.
Sam eased his hold on her a little, and she started to struggle anew. He dropped the rifle, which he'd held precariously under his arm, and concentrated all his force on tightening the pin of her arm behind her back. She struggled for a moment longer, and Sam pushed the arm upward. When the pain got too much for her, she gave a short scream and stopped struggling, but the hate boiled even more hotly in her eyes.
"Jee-sus!" Sam said. "I never saw a bitch put up a struggle like this!"
"Who is she?" Jud asked, wondering what Sam would do if he went over and picked up the rifle, then deciding against it.
"I don't know," Sam said. "Who are you?"
The girl said nothing. She sulked, glaring at Jud and Viola. Sam lifted up on her arm. She didn't move, didn't cry out.
"Who are you?" Sam asked again.
Still she said nothing. He lifted more on the arm, and she still didn't cry out, and she remained passive rather than struggling. But her face tightened, and tears spilled out of her eyes.
"Who are you?" Sam demanded even more viciously.
"Let it go," Jud said.
Sam tightened his grip even more on the girl's arm. Her lips parted as if she would scream, but no sound came out. "I said let it go!" Jud shouted.
Sam released the grip. The girl sighed. The tension left her face, and Jud realized how close he had come to diving headlong into Sam. He would have killed him then, if he could have.
"Okay," Sam said dryly. "What do you suggest we do with her?"
"Tie her up," Jud said.
"Yeah, but I mean in the long run. She's probably the one who gave that gold piece to the girl at the curio shop. If we put a little pressure on her the right way, she'll lead us right to it. We won't even have to fool with the old man."
Jud laughed sardonically. "Would you enjoy that, Sam?"
"I want the gold; that's all."
Jud laughed again. "Did you see her then? She didn't make a sound, and you damn near broke her arm. You could cut her up in little pieces and she still wouldn't tell you a thing."
"There's ways," Sam said.
Jud knew this wasn't going to work. Sooner or later he was going to have it out with Sam. If they'd done it ten years ago, it would have been a good, rough fistfight. Now things were a little tougher, and the stakes a lot higher.
"We'll take her back to camp and keep her tonight," Jud said, mustering all his authority in his voice, and spicing it with just the hint of threat. "Then tomorrow we'll use her as a hostage to get us into the cabin without getting our heads blown off. Now, give her to me; I'll take her the rest of the way."
Sam laughed. "You think you can handle her, huh? You may have a surprise coming."
"I can handle her," Jud said.
He walked over to Sam, glancing down at the rifle on the ground. If he moved quickly enough he could beat Sam to it, but once he'd made a move like that, he'd have to keep Sam covered from then on. He wasn't ready for that yet, if indeed it was going to come to that.
"Let me have her arm," Jud said.
The girl just looked at him, apparently more curious than anything else now. Jud reached between her body and Sam's taking hold of the pinned arm. Sam released her and stepped back, and Jud moved in behind her, holding the arm and reaching around her with his free arm. He could feel her breast brush his forearm, feel her full hips against his loins. She had a good body, and there was something about her nakedness beneath the coarse leather that stirred in him a new and demanding craving, making what he'd done with Viola seem far in the past.
He waited for the struggle he'd expected, but it never came. She didn't fight him.
"Well," Sam laughed as he bent over and picked up the rifle, "Jud's still got a way with women!"
"Let's go," Jud said.
They started back to camp, and the Indian girl walked willingly before him, not offering the least resistance.
"How'd you find her?" Jud asked.
"You two took a little long," Sam said.
Viola shot Jud a startled glance, but he signaled her with his eyes not to worry. If Sam had seen anything, they'd have heard about it already.
"I climbed a tree," Sam said, indicating some scratch marks on his arm. "I could see you coming, and then just once I saw movement behind you. Her. I figured it was somebody following you, so I went out there and hid. Sure enough, she came along about twenty yards back of you, making it through those trees like a mountain lion. But she wasn't expecting me, and I got the jump on 'er."
Sam had pitched the tent right over one of the smaller cedar trees. That was the only way there was room for it, because it was a big tent, and apparently he hadn't been in the mood to cut another tree down. So there was a tree in the tent, and there was hardly room left to move around. But Jud said nothing about that.
"Get me a piece of rope," he told Viola.
Sam started to pile up what wood he could find for a fire, and Viola went to one of the packs and got the rope.
"You don't have to tie me," the girl said quietly.
"I'm afraid we do," Jud laughed. "I'm sorry, but we didn't start the shooting."
Viola brought him a six-foot piece of lariat. He pulled the girl's arms behind her and tied them together, then wound the remainder of the rope around a tree and tied it. This gave her a couple feet of play to move around in, but it was virtually impossible for her to escape. He'd intentionally picked a tree about thirty feet from the tent, and at least partially obscured from it by another tree. He wanted a chance to talk to her in private and see what he could get out of her.
"Can she get away?" Viola asked.
He shook his head, studying the hatred with which the Indian girl glared at Viola.
"Go tell Sam not to start a fire here. We'll have to eat cold food. These trees are too dry."
Viola hesitated, looking first at him and then at the girl, who now sat cross-legged on the ground, leaning back against the tree trunk.
"Go on!" Jud said.
Viola's lips quivered. She started to say something, but didn't. She turned and went back through the trees to the tent.
Jud turned to the girl. "I did not like the other man," she said. "I did not want his hands on me." Jud smiled, but her expression never changed. "Your woman is very beautiful," the girl said. Jud almost corrected her, then stopped himself, waiting to sec what else she'd say.
"I have seen well that she knows how to please you," the girl added, just a trace of a savage smile flickering on her lips.
So she'd seen, thought Jud. She'd seen everything. And once she found out Viola wasn't his, but Sam's wife, she had just what she needed to start them fighting among themselves. And he had no doubt but that she'd use it, and that she'd have the cunning to save it until just the right time.
"I would not trust my woman with that man, if I were you," she said. Then she actually did smile. "She is your woman, isn't she?"
Jud turned and walked back to the tent. She already knew, and she was saving it.
CHAPTER 6
"GET SAM INTO BED AS EARLY AS YOU CAN AFTER we eat," Jud told Viola when he got back to camp.
She looked at him with a kind of dazed hurt, then glanced over at Sam, who was staring out across the clearing, now vaguely lighted by a nearly full moon.
"You can do it, baby," Jud said sarcastically.
"Jesus, are you cold!"
"She saw us," Jud said.
"What?"
"She saw us making it down there in the creek bed."
"Oh, no!" Viola looked in horror at Sam, then back at Jud. "Will she tell?"
He nodded. "I think so. When she figures the time's right. So as soon as we finish eating, I'll go back to check on her. And before I get a chance to come back, I want you to have him in bed and making noises that would embarrass mc."
"You want to listen again? like last night?" Viola could be cold too.
Jud laughed. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Nothing's changed between us?" It was just half a question.
"We're not going to get married and live happily ever after; you can be damn sure of that."
"Okay. I didn't really expect it. So what are we going to do-just wait till she decides to tell him, then let him blow both our heads off? He will, you know."
"I know," Jud said. "And I wouldn't much blame him."
He looked over at Sam, who was still staring across the clearing, the gun resting on his arm.
"I don't want him near that girl the rest of the night. That's where you come in. I'm going back there and work on her. Maybe I can get her to thinking I'm on her side. That way I can at least stall it."
"And maybe you can get into those leather britches of hers?" Another half-question.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Jud said with a laugh. "Here he comes."
Viola turned, and they watched Sam walk toward them.
"I still say I can make her talk," Sam said. "I don't like the idea of tangling with that old codger in the cabin."
"Just let me call the plays, Sam," Jud said. "When we get to the five yard line, you can carry the ball."
Sam laughed. "All right." With a gesture that was only in part threatening, he hefted the gun. "Let's eat," he said. "I'm starved."
They settled down to a meal of dried beef and bread. Viola assumed a cross-legged position that did quite a bit to call attention to her body-Jud wondered if she were copying it from the Indian girl's pose-and they ate in relative silence. Jud was careful to finish first. Then he took out a couple extra pieces of bread and a handful of the stringy salted beef. He got one of the canteens and stood up.
"You gonna feed the girl?" Sam asked, munching on a slice of bread.
"Sure I'm gonna feed her," Jud said. "And don't anybody disturb me for a while, either. Maybe I can get something out of her."
Sam laughed boisterously. Viola winced.
"She-likes me," Jud said. "You've got to know how to handle them, Sam."
Sam laughed again. "I guess it's pretty obvious what you've got on your mind. If Viola falls asleep, I'll take seconds."
"Maybe she won't," Jud said.
He shot a quick, demanding glance at Viola, and she nodded.
"I don't think I'll fall asleep too quick, baby."
As Jud started away, he saw Viola move closer to Sam. "Let's see if we can make use of the privacy," she said.
Jud walked back to the tree where he'd tied the girl. She looked up at him curiously, almost smiling. In the little bit of moonlight that filtered through the trees, he could see a fiery sparkle in her eyes, and her copper skin took on the color of hot coals. Her breasts were arched up conspicuously against the leather by the pin of her arms behind her.
"Hungry?" he asked casually.
She nodded. He held out a piece of the dried beef. She took it in her mouth, chewing it stoically, her eyes still on him. When she was finished with the beef, he held out a slice of bread for her to take a bite of. His eyes fell to her shadowy cleavage, visible in the open neck of the leather shirt. She noticed this, but let it pass. When she finished the bite of bread, she held her mouth open not un-like an animal would-or a child-giving him a sharp sensation of power. He fed her another bite. She chewed slowly, refusing to display her relish. And when she'd finished that bite she rejected his offer of more.
"Don't make me eat so fast," she said.
She'd started to say something else, but became silent as she heard Viola giggle huskily-a kind of giggle a woman made in only one situation.
"Or is it that you are anxious to get back to your woman?" she said with a sly grin.
"She's our woman," Jud said with a grin. "It was better to share one than bring along two."
"I think you are lying," she replied quickly. "I saw her wedding ring. And he, not you, is the husband."
"You have all the answers," Jud said.
"Could I have another bite of beef?"
He held out another piece of beef, and she leaned forward and quickly took it, and was careful to bend her body enough that he could see into the leather shirt, get a perfect view of her round, sculptured breasts.
"And you?" she asked. "You do not have a woman?"
"I'm not married, if that's what you mean." She smiled, "But you have his woman when you want her?"
Jud just laughed. There was no use answering. "But I do not think he knows this," she said, smiling again.
"Why don't you ask him?" Jud bluffed.
She shook her head. "Not now. Now the two of you would only deny it. He would be suspicious, but he would believe you. But there will be a time when you will not have time to deny it. Then I will tell him. May I have more bread now?"
He held out the bread. She leaned forward and took it, slumping her shoulders so that the material fell for a moment completely away from her nipples. Then she arched her shoulders back, pushing the breasts up prominently against the material.
"Will he kill you?" she asked, still chewing on the bite of bread.
"He might," said Jud.
"That would be a shame." She smiled.
"Yes, it would."
Jud popped the last piece of bread and bite of beef into his own mouth, and smiled as he savored it.
"And you?" he asked. "Do you have a man?"
"I was married," she said. "But he worked on the oil rigs to the South. He was killed in a fire."
"I'm sorry," Jud said. And the funny thing about it, he really was.
"It is of no importance," she said. "It has been a long time."
For a moment they were both silent. Jud looked down at her, openly admiring her savage beauty.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"To my husband, who was Mexican, I was Rosa. My Indian name means Rose of the Desert."
"Desert Rose," Jud said. "Desert roses; Do you know what they are?"
"No. Flowers?"
"Little crystal rocks," Jud said. "Reddish copper, with petals like the flower."
They fell silent. He looked at her breasts again, the leather held over them by the three thongs. Vaguely, they could hear the sounds of Viola and Sam, now making love in zestful abandon.
"It must make you feel.. . alone," she said.
"What?"
"When you are with another man and his wife. Even with what you did this afternoon, you are not free to do that any time you please. You must sneak."
He didn't answer, but just looked at her, thinking of what he could do to her if he wanted to; picturing vividly how she would resist, hating, biting, tossing and cursing him until passion overcame her.
"You could take me," she said quietly. It gave him the feeling she had read his mind. "You could take me and I could not stop you."
"I could," he said, still looking at the coppery skin of her bosom.
She smiled, pulling her shoulders back once more to arch the round breasts up, the nipples making distinct points in the leather. "Just loosen the thongs," she said. "It is easily done, and I can not stop you."
Jud looked back up at her glowing face. He wondered what she really felt for him. He had no doubt that she'd stick a knife in his back without hesitation if it would help her escape, but aside from that, he wondered if she really hated him. He felt that she didn't, but logic told him she probably did.
"And I do not mind, really," she said. "I am not a virgin. It is no loss to me."
Jud's hand moved quickly to the top thong. He pulled the loose end of it and the knot came undone. The leather shirt opened, revealing more of her breasts. He quickly undid the other two, and the shirt opened all the way down the front, the leather seeming to cling on the swollen nipples, which were a deep maroon-purple. He fitted his hand inside, cupping one of her breasts, feeling the hardness of the nipple in his palm. He got onto his knees and leaned toward her. Their eyes met and held for a moment. Then he leaned on down and put his lips to the soft skin of her neck, kissing her there first, then moving down to her shoulder and finally to her breast. He took the nipple in his mouth, sucking gently and playing with his tongue.
She made no sound, but twisted her body, moving the breast in his mouth, brushing the other nipple against his cheek. He slid his hand beneath the arm that was still bound against her side, inside the leather and around to her back. His fingers reached the line of her spine, then moved down. A shiver went through her entire body. She moaned slightly, and he sucked more furiously at her breast. She pushed herself closer, twisting her torso against his face, her breathing becoming hoarse.
Suddenly she pulled away from him. Her breast left his mouth, and his hand had not been firm enough against her back to hold. She fell clumsily against the trunk of the tree, then straightened up before he had a chance to help her. For a moment she was completely without composure; she was disturbed, confused and frustrated. The inscrutable sly smile was gone, and the futility of her situation was bared for him. Then she regained her bearings', the smile returned; her breathing slowed to a more regular pace.
"I cannot.. . do it well.. . like this," she said haltingly. "I cannot return . . . show for you . . . the passion I feel."
He looked down at her breasts. They were perfect-as full and firm below the nipples as above. But it was the color that made them unique in his experience; the deep copper, accented by the purple-jeweled nipples.
"I cannot do it with my hands tied behind me," she said, spelling out her meaning.
But it spelled out more than that for him. It spelled out the motivation for the whole deal. She'd invited him to loosen the thongs, to bare for himself the most perfect breasts he'd ever seen. She'd invited him to touch and feel them, knowing this would seal his decision to make love to her. For effect, she'd reciprocated the passion. And after they'd reached a certain plane of desire she would entice him to untie her. Then she would play along for a while longer, and when the chance came, make her escape.
Whether she really would have gone through with the lovemaking was doubtful-if she'd remained in control of herself. But she hadn't remained in control. She'd enjoyed his hands on her breasts, his lips tearing at them. She'd probably enjoyed it more because she was tied powerless to resist.
Then she'd caught herself, realizing what she was doing, and had pulled away. It had taken her a moment to regenerate her hatred for him, or at least re-convince herself of it.
He just looked at her for a moment. Then he reached forward with both hands, grasped the leather shirt just above the thong loops on each side. He pulled the leather apart, revealing more of her copper flesh, pulled it on over her shoulders and down her upper arms, exposing completely the upper half of her defenseless body. He looked at the skin of her breasts, of her neck and shoulders, her stomach. It was the most beautiful skin he'd ever seen: flawless, alive, inviting.
"I cannot do it with my hands tied," she said again, doing everything she could to instill in her voice the sound of genuine passion, but failing.
"All right," Jud said.
He reached into his pocket and took out the small knife he carried. He opened it slowly, then leaned so close that her breasts touched his chest as he reached behind to cut the rope. And he intentionally placed himself in a position that was completely vulnerable. And because he was so open to her attack, he made sure he was ready for it.
The moment he freed her hands, her knee lashed toward his groin. He blocked that with the forearm of his other hand, and at the same moment tossed the knife far enough away that she couldn't reach it. She moved swiftly toward her feet, and just as he'd planned the knee jab and planned to follow through with this, he was sure she'd also planned exactly which way she would run when she did get up.
But she never made it. Tossing the knife away left him completely off balance, and as he'd planned, falling forward toward her with all his weight. It was a simple matter of wrapping his arms around her and hanging on to keep her from going anywhere.
Completely subduing her was a different matter. It had been a kind of body tackle; his momentum carried her onto her back and left him more or less on top of her. She bit him on the ear and did knee him once, but her knee landed too high to do real damage. Her arms were still held behind her back by the shirt, and she thrashed madly as she tried to free herself from it. Jud turned loose the hold he'd had around her waist, and tried to slide up her body for a better one. She kneed him again, in the thigh this time, and her breasts bounced in his face. She tossed her whole body upward and almost threw him off, and then she freed her arms. Just as she did, he caught them and pinned them to the ground, extended to either side of her, then lifted himself into a sitting position, straddling her stomach, her breasts between his thighs.
She struggled for a instant longer. Then, seeing she had no chance, she stopped fighting. She lay perfectly still, her eyes spewing fire and venom at him, her breasts heaving. He held her fast and looked down at her. Then he shifted his position slightly, so that his bent knees rested on her biceps, holding her arms pinned and freeing his hands.
"Let me put my shirt back on," she said with quiet wrath.
He shook his head. He reached over and removed the rope from about the tree. He tied one end to her right wrist, then tossed the loose end about the tree. Then he leaned forward and caught the loose end and brought it back around. She still didn't move, but her eyes showed her disgust with him.
He took a firm hold on the rope, then lifted his weight off her body and pulled quickly with all his strength. She screamed with surprise as her body was dragged the three feet across the ground to the tree trunk, until her head was right against it and her right arm extended back around it. Jud had moved with her, and now he seized her free hand and pulled the rope in a loop around it. He slid off, moving to where he could better secure her.
Now she did struggle. She tossed violently and pulled at the rope, fantastically contorted her body so that she almost managed to kick him in the face, but all to no avail. He finished the knot, then got to his feet and stepped back to survey her position.
She ceased her struggles, panting, her breasts now stretched taut, heaving with her hard breathing. She lay flat on her back, her arms extended over her head and around the tree, where they were securely tied. Her feet were still free.
"So now you're a big man," she said finally. "Now you think you have me."
"I think so," he said with a laugh, looking at the tightly drawn breasts, the nipples hard still, the skin in goose bumps from the cold night air.
"What are you going to do?"
"Just what we were planning to do."
"I will hate it," she said with conviction, still glaring up at him.
"I think I'll bring my sleeping bag. As a matter-of-fact, we might just do it all night long."
For a moment longer she glared silently. Then she screamed, "Bastard! Bastard, I'll kill you someday!"
She kicked out at him, but he was out of range. She tugged frantically on the rope, but there was no getting away. She screamed insults at him, first in English, then in Spanish, and finally shifting to what must have been an Indian language. And she tossed frantically as she tried to free herself.
Jud just watched her, grinning, thinking it served her right for taking him for such a fool, and still justifying what he did with the memory of the moment she had lost herself in a passion that was not fabricated. Then a rustling behind him startled him. He swung about quickly.
It was Sam, wearing just a pair of trousers. He had the gun.
"What in the . . . ? " He broke off as he saw the girl, half naked, tied in the new position, the purpose of it obvious.
Desert Rose also ceased her tirade.
"Oh," said Sam, laughing. "Excuse me, partner!" He paused again, looking back at the full, taut breasts. "I didn't think you had it in you, Jud. I sure as hell didn't."
"He has it in him!" she snarled. "Ask him what he did with your wife when they went for water."
Perfect, Jud thought. Sam turned to him, a flicker of anger and realization in his eyes. Jud met Sam's gaze without expression.
"I saw them!" she said. "On the creek!"
"You know how it is, Sam," Jud said laughingly. "A man gets to needing it. I didn't know this was coming along, or I would've waited."
He stopped, seeing that Sam had reached the boiling point. He burst into laughter, slapping Sam boisterously on the shoulder.
"You know me better than that."
For a moment Sam was just dumfounded. Then he too began to laugh.
"He did it!" she insisted.
But it was hopeless. Sam and Jud were laughing together now. It had worked perfectly, Jud thought as he slapped his old buddy on the back again. And she had played her last ace.
"Now, let me have a little privacy, huh, Sam?" Jud said. "I mean, if Viola wasn't here, you could have seconds, but.. . "
Sam laughed, "Yeah. I understand."
"Come on. I've got to get my sleeping bag anyway," Jud said, leading Sam back toward the tent. "You don't mind if I just spend the night out here with her, huh?"
As they walked away, Desert Rose began cursing again.
CHAPTER 7
JUD GOT HIS SLEEPING BAG, THEN LEFT SAM AND Viola at the camp and strode back to where he'd left the Indian girl. She heard him coming, and turned her head to watch his approach. Her black eyes were cold; she seemed to be trying to telegraph the threat of vengeance. It occurred to Jud that along about this time she'd like to have him spread-eagled over an anthill.
He paused several feet from her, looking down at her bare torso. Her breathing had again become regular and her rounded breasts just rose and fell slightly now. But the deep purple nipples were still taut.
"I think you made a strategic error there," Jud said, mockery in his voice. "That was the wrong time to try to tell Sam about me and his wife. You should have saved it."
"I made a mistake," she admitted, glaring up at him. Then her lips relaxed into a smile. "Perhaps I found the thought of what you plan to do with me so repulsive that I couldn't wait."
Jud grinned and walked up to her. He tossed his sleeping bag down beside her, then dropped onto it. He reached down and touched one of her breasts, cupping it, feeling the nipple on his palm.
She made no attempt to resist, just watching him, masking her feelings with an expression of stoicism.
He massaged the breast ruthlessly, then moved his hand down the line of indentation of her stomach, to the dark navel at the top of her leather trousers.
"Aren't you going to fight?" Jud asked. "Not that it would do any good."
"But you would like it, wouldn't you? If I fought?"
"Yes; I might like it. I might like it so much I'd have to put a couple of stakes in the ground and tie your legs."
"I won't fight," she said. "In the end I could not stop you from doing what you want with me. So why should I make it more enjoyable for you? I will just lie here and let you do it. But I will feel nothing. A woman can keep herself from feeling."
Jud laughed. "I know."
He loosened the buttons that held the rawhide trousers on, then tugging downward. "Raise up," he commanded.
She didn't move. Jud laughed and tugged the trousers off her wide hips and dark, contoured thighs, off her feet. Then he stood up, surveying her nakedness.
She had as fine a body as he'd ever seen. Her stomach was flat, muscular, the line of indentation extending from just beneath her breasts all the. way down to her navel. Her thighs were long, rounded, firm and dark. Between them, the V of dark hair, straight rather than matted like a white girl's, was the perfect crest to her beauty.
"If you'll raise up I'll spread this sleeping bag under you," Jud said. "That ground must not be too comfortable."
"I don't care."
Jud shrugged. "It's gonna be your scratched-up backside."
The girl just stared at him, her lips set hard against her teeth, her black eyes spewing fire. He saw her biceps tighten, her breasts quivering as she gave one last tug against her binding. But she knew this would do no good; there was no way she could get loose.
Jud began to undress, slowly, watching the dark, beautiful body as he did so. He piled his clothes on the sleeping bag, shivered in the cool mountain air, and again he knelt beside her.
He touched her belly just below the navel. She tensed for a moment, then relaxed. He watched her eyes as he moved his hand down the surprisingly warm flesh. She just glared back without emotion, even as he moved it into the black hair of her pubic mound, toying for a moment before pushing it between her tightly closed thighs.
She smiled-a bitter, sardonic smile. "Do you want me to spread my legs for you?"
At the same time he felt his prick stiffen, felt it begin to throb with longing. The effects of his romp with Viola had long since faded.
The girl's eyes descended for a quick glimpse of his swollen prick. Then she looked back into his eyes. She smiled, and from her bland expression one would never have been able to tell that Jud was busy thrusting his finger into the depths of her hot little snatch.
He had to give her credit for one thing: She had a lot of self-discipline. She could ignore the sensation she must be feeling now, just as she'd been able to ignore the pain when Sam twisted her arm. But she was a woman, and he had a feeling she'd break sooner or later. It was just a question of his being able to hold off long enough.
"You don't have to do that," she said, still smiling. "You can take me now if you want to."
Jud laughed again, thrusting his finger deeper into her. "I don't think you're quite ready," he said.
Then he pushed his thumb in along with the finger, again feeling her tense momentarily before her mind again quelled her awareness of the sensation. He drove the finger up as far as it would go, leaving the thumb to play along the walls of the surface.
She bit her lip, gasping just slightly, then forced herself to smile. Perhaps, thought Jud, she was ready after all.
He pulled his finger out, rolling over between her thighs. He stretched out on her, feeling her breasts against his chest. He took his prick in hand, searching in the hair until he found the moist opening, then ramming in forcefully.
She acted as though it hadn't even happened. She didn't even twtich, and not a sound escaped her.
For a long time he didn't move. He held himself in to the hilt, waiting for some response. Slowly he lifted his head, opening his eyes and staring down at her. Her eyes were blank as she stared back. Angry, he flexed himself inside her, and her only acknowledgement of this was a slight grin that quickly vanished.
She was mocking him. His first inclination was to withdraw, just leave her. Or perhaps he could spend the rest of the night just teasing her. But that would be as hard on him as on her, even considering the advantage he had.
He looked down at her soft neck and arms, her armpits, her breasts, the still taut nipples just barely touching his chest. He could feel the warmth of her loins against him, and the insides of her thighs touching his. Again he flexed himself, this time involuntarily.
He felt his face tense, felt the anger bubbling up with the passion inside him. And with the anger came a strange kind of strength; suddenly he knew that, no matter how long it took, he would be able to make her respond.
He lifted his hips, feeling his prick slide along the moist inner walls. He pulled it almost completely out, so that just the tip remained between her cunt lips. He held there for a moment, then thrust it back hard.
This time she gasped slightly-a muffled gasp, but it told him she wasn't without feeling, and sooner or later she would have to respond.
Again he lifted himself, slowly, tediously, stretching out the sensation as long as he could. And again he held himself for a moment before he thrust back in.
Then he began to move faster, picking up a kind of graduated rhythm, making each thrust seemingly deeper and harder than the last.
For a long time this went on. He held himself up on his elbows so he could watch her face, picking up even the slightest sign of reaction to his increasingly brutal thrusts. Occasionally he glanced down at her breasts, rising and falling faster now with her breathing.
She couldn't completely conceal her feelings. Her fence tensed each time he drove into her. Sometimes her eyes blinked. Her mouth opened, and she gasped for breath. But still she refused to move.
Jud increased the rhythm. He dropped his body down full on hers, planting his knees on the ground to give better leverage to his hips. He brought one hand up and began to massage her breast, and the other slipped beneath her buttocks and up between her thighs from behind, so that even as he was driving his cock into the depths of her, he could tease the soft nether lips with his fingers.
And then suddenly, without warning, he lost control of his passion. No longer could he hold the rhythm back. He began to toss wildly on her, striking her at new and different angles, driving himself even deeper, if that were possible.
And now he was frantically massaging her breasts, and his lips were buried in the curve of her neck. No longer did he bother to watch her face; he didn't have to.
At some point-and later he would not even know exactly when it had happened-she lifted her legs, locking them about his back. And now she was making little whimpering sounds in response to each thrust, and he could feel her tugging frantically at her bindings.
"Oh, yes!" he heard her cry, punctuating the words with something else from her Indian language.
She dropped her legs from around his back, and he felt her plant her feet, bending her knees to give leverage to her hips. He felt her arch up, lifting him off the ground, expertly rolling to match his thrusts.
"Oh, yes!" she cried again.
Her whole body began to writhe and twist beneath him. The muscles of her cunt tightened frantically.
He took one of her taut breasts in his mouth, sucking ravenously. Then he raised his head for a moment to look down at her face.
Her eyes were closed now, her lips parted, her tongue protruding.
He dropped his head back, taking her earlobe between his teeth, biting hard as he moved in final frenzy. .
Desert Rose matched his frenzy, driving her loins against his with unrestrained passion, and as he felt himself spew into her, he knew the same thing was happening for her.
When they were finished, he rolled off. He unzipped his sleeping bag, spread the bottom part beneath them and pulled the top over them. Then he zipped it back around them, and for a long time they just nestled there in the warmth.
"Will you untie my arms?" she asked at length.
He was tempted, but he knew better. What had happened wouldn't change a thing when they got back to the real purpose of the trip.
"I still can't trust you," he said, gently folding her full bosom.
"You bastard," she said. Then she kissed him. "I will get even with you for this."
Sometime in the middle of the night the touch of Desert Rose's lips on his face awoke Jud. It took him a moment to remember where he was and who the warm body beside him belonged to. Then he recalled-a vision of the copper-fleshed girl, her arms extended up and out, pinioned, flashed before him. The feeling of the power he had over her, the realization that he could do anything he pleased, caused new desire to surge in him.
He felt the girl's lips move across his cheek to touch his own lips. He felt her shift her body so that she was almost lying on her side, pushing her full breasts against him. He felt the patch of stiff hair between her thighs brush against his hip.
For a few moments he just lay there, letting her kiss him and move her body against him as best she could. Then he rolled on to his side, fitting his body against hers, feeling his prick harden as it touched her hairy warmth. He looked into her dark eyes, illuminated by moonlight that filtered through the branches overhead.
He pushed his lips against hers, first kissing gently, then pushing his tongue between her parted lips, arching her mouth with it, at the same time reaching down to massage her taut breasts roughly.
He withdrew his tongue, pulling his head back, letting his hand rest on her breast. He looked searchingly into her eyes, and let a hint of a grin flicker on his lips.
"If you're trying to trick me into untying you, you're wasting your time," he said.
She glared back at him angrily. Then she turned away, shifting her body so she lay flat on her back again. She closed her eyes as if to pretend sleep.
Jud watched her for a moment, studying her Oriental face, the dark, flawless flesh of her neck, the rise and fall of her breasts. He rested a hand lightly on her belly, then trailed it down to the tangle of hair between her warm thighs.
"You're my prisoner," he said challengingly. "If you think a little phony affection can change that, you're mistaken."
His hand played in her pubic hair for a moment; then, as he'd done earlier, he pushed his finger between her nether lips, lingering there for an instant before thrusting it deep. To his surprise, she was already moist and open, ready. And now she made no attempt to hide her feelings. Her body tensed, her hips arched up against his hand. She gasped and rolled her head around, staring almost fearfully up at him.
Jud drew his finger out, onto the length of her body. He felt his prick throbbing, and reaching down with one hand, he fitted it between her thighs, then thrust violently into her.
"Oh, yes!" she sighed, pushing herself up to meet the thrust, her eyes closing tightly now, her lips parted in unsuppressed pleasure.
Jud began to move immediately, pulling his prick almost out of her, then thrusting it in as deep and hard as he could. She planted her feet firmly on the ground to give herself leverage, responding to Jud's action with equally furious undulations of her hips.
Jud looked down into her eyes, now wild and fiery. Then he bent to take one of her nipples in his mouth, alternately sucking it ravenously and biting so hard as to make her give out little cries of mingled pain and ecstasy.
The furious pounding of her loins against his own increased in intensity and velocity. She rolled her hips, caressing him with experienced inner muscles, and he varied the direction of his thrusts, striking her at new and exciting angles. They seemed simultaneously to move up to a new plane of frenzy and desire.
"Oh, yes, Jud!" she cried. "Yes! Harder! Please! Harder!"
He drove madly against her for a few more strokes, each prompting even sharper screams of pleasure. He felt a tingling in his prick, felt his craving surge upward, felt himself moving toward the pinnacle.
Then he stopped. He pushed himself to the hilt, and held there.
He raised his head and looked at her face. Befuddled, she stared back at him, eyes questioning. A shiver went through her body, focusing between her legs. She tightened her muscles on him, exerting such a clinging control that he doubted he could have withdrawn if he'd wanted to.
He flexed himself, and again the tremor passed through her body.
"More!" she gasped, her voice hoarse and gusty.
Jud smiled, watching her, waiting for his desire to subside and let him take control of himself. She wanted more, did she?
Still in her to the hilt, Jud rolled his hips slightly. She twitched and contorted, at the same time tugging furiously at the bindings which still held her arms pinioned.
Jud pulled halfway out, and frantically she drove her hips up, again engulfing him with pulsating warmth.
He reached under her legs, tugged upward. She responded by throwing them around him, locking her ankles behind his back, her thighs tightening on his flanks. But he continued to tug, pulling up until they were virtually around his neck, his shoulders against the back of her knees, her body doubled up in a jackknife position so that his weight rested on the backs of her thighs, and could feel her buttock against his loins.
Wide-eyed, she watched him. Jud grinned, looking down at her face. The position served to open her and allow him to go straight to her innermost depths.
He pulled back a bit, rolling his hips about to tease the walls of her snatch. She gave out with another gasp, pushing against his shoulder with her shapely thighs.
He pulled upward until only the tip of his prick was between her cunt lips.
"Please!" she cried, desperation showing in her face.
Quickly and brutally, Jud drove himself down into her. A loud smacking sound marked the contact of his loins with her buttocks.
He withdrew quickly, then again drove, stroking her buttocks hard with his loins, again driving in to the ultimate extremity of her crevice.
He set a rigid rhythm-not fast, just furious and intense-each stroke calculated explosive thrust, shaking her whole body. And each time his loins cracked against her buttocks, she gave out with a new and more frenzied gasp-cry of pleasure.
For a long time he kept up the slow, steady beat. He felt as if he could endure forever, endure until there wasn't an ounce of strength or response left in her, and she was completely conquered.
But soon his frenzy returned. He varied the rhythm, increasing it in sudden bursts of velocity that rattled her whole body, then pausing for an instant to let his pleasure subside before he returned to the precise, intense rhythm.
And slowly he let the rhythm build, each stroke following a little more quickly after the last.
Finally he felt himself begin to tire. He was vaguely aware through his pleasure delirium that he'd had a long, hard day. He eased off the rhythm, came to a stop, just lying on her and resting for a minute, his prick still tingling with craving for fulfillment.
He looked down at her face, now ecstatic. She was making little purring sounds, and her eyes were closed. Her breasts rose and fell almost smoothly with her breathing, and there was a trace of a smile on her lips. Jud knew she'd already climaxed once, maybe twice.
"Have you had enough?" he asked.
She opened her eyes, her lips breaking into a full happy smile. Her dark face glowed in the moonlight. She nodded her head. "Yes. I've had enough."
Jud gave out a hoarse little chuckle, arching his hips up, again almost withdrawing from her. He saw her bite her lip in anticipation of the loss, and he felt her legs start to slide from around his shoulders.
Then furiously he thrust back into her. Energy surged in him, and he drove himself with a burst of rapid, brutal strokes, his body tossing about wildly on her.
She gave a little cry of surprise and then began to respond, gasping, panting and writhing beneath him. Jud felt all his desire rush to the surface, felt himself spinning in an unreal kind of bliss, yet driving even more furiously in her. Then his passion burst and spewed out, with a few last maddening contortions.
She gave out with a new cry of pleasure, matching Jud's ecstasy with renewed passion of her own. And then it was over, and her legs slipped from his shoulders and stretched out, and he sank onto the fullness of her breasts, his head nestling in her neck.
There had been a few moments there when neither remembered the other kind of lust that had brought them together, and which had made her his prisoner.
CHAPTER 8
WHEN SAM AWAKENED JUD THE NEXT MORNING, he was still nestled in the girl's arms. He opened his eyes and turned over slowly, looking up at the brawny figure towering over them. Desert Rose stirred beside him, rubbing her naked body affectionately against his, making a little purring sound. Then she opened her eyes, saw Sam, and slid away from Jud.
"You have a good night?" Sam chuckled.
Jud didn't say anything. He stared sullenly up at his friend. He remembered the way he'd felt with the girl last night. After that, it was going to be hard to follow through with what would probably happen during the next several days. He found himself wishing they'd met under different circumstances, without the gold lust between them. Hell with it, he thought. There was no use in getting sentimental.
"I'll be with you in a minute, Sam," he said finally.
Sam just stood there, leering down at the girl. The sleeping bag came just over her nipples, exposing the lush upper portions of her breasts, still arched up tautly by the position of her arms.
"I said I'll be there in a minute," Jud repeated, his tone impatient.
Sam laughed, then turned and swaggered away.
Jud glared after him for a moment, then turned his attention to the girl. She looked sullenly up at him. Nothing in her countenance recalled the way it had been with them at the height of their passion last night.
"My arms hurt," she said, her voice impassionate.
Jud leaned over and planted his lips on hers. She didn't respond at all. He drew back and looked down at her, reaching over to run his hand lightly across the full rise of her breasts, then down into the sleeping bag, teasing her rigid nipples.
She ignored him, staring blankly up at the sky.
Jud shrugged and slid out of the sleeping bag, then began to dress. Sullenly, she watched.
"I'll untie you in just a minute," he said. "And don't try anything funny. You're not going to escape."
"I hate you," she said matter-of-factly.
Jud chuckled. When he'd finished dressing, he folded the sleeping bag off the girl, exposing her dark, shapely body. For a moment he just looked down at her, admiring her with a respect that last night's episode had not served to dim. Then he knelt astride her torso with his knees in such a position that he could easily pinion her arms at the first sign of a struggle. He set about untying the rope.
"I won't try to escape," she said.
"I know you won't," Jud laughed. "And just to make sure, I'm not going to give you a chance."
The knots in the rope had been pulled tight by her struggles, and it took him a couple minutes to get them loose. When he succeeded, and was ready to free her arms, he braced himself for the possible impending fight.
But there was no fight. She lay where she was, merely moving her arms about and rubbing them to improve the circulation. All the while, she stared coldly up at Jud.
"What are you going to do with me?" she asked.
Jud looked down at her, surveying her face and body. There were marks where the rope had cut into her wrists. Strangely enough, he was sorry for that. And he knew one thing for certain: He didn't want her hurt; and gold or no gold, he wasn't going to allow her to come to harm.
"We'll use you as a hostage and go in and capture the old man and that girl, whoever she is. Then you-one of you-will have to tell us where the gold is. That's all."
"There is no gold."
The way she said it, it was almost convincing. Yet Jud knew she was lying.
"Then we'll take the gold and leave," Jud continued. "If you cooperate, we might even cut you in for a share."
The girl laughed-raucous, bitter laughter.
"Now, there's just one problem," Jud said.
The girl waited, saying nothing.
"In order for you to get dressed," Jud said, "I'll have to let you up. If you can do that without trying to escape, I'll let you up. If you can't, or if you make one wrong move, goddamn it, I'll tie your arms behind you and we'll march you up to that cabin butt-ass naked, and you'll stay that way until we're through here and gone."
"I won't try to escape," the girl said. "You have my word." She smiled. "I don't speak with a forked tongue now," she mimicked.
Jud eased himself off her, then stood ready to move at the slightest sign of treachery. Slowly the girl slipped into her buckskin breeches and jacket, all the while watching Jud, and seemingly amused at his suspicion. When she'd finished dressing, he tied her hands behind her back, then walked her to where Sam and Viola were in the process of breaking camp.
Sam, the rifle draped carelessly across his forearm, looked the girl over, then again turned the leering smile on Jud. "Well, quarterback, what's it going to be?" he asked.
Jud looked over at Desert Rose. "We'll use the girl as a hostage, and march right up to the cabin."
"And then?" Sam asked.
"Wait and see. Hell, the gold might be piled up right on their dinner table, waiting for us."
"There's no gold," Desert Rose said firmly.
"Shut up," Jud told her. He returned his attention to Sam and Viola. "Leave our gear here for the time being. Now, let's get going."
Jud took hold of the bindings that held the girl's arms behind her. Pushing her in front of him, he started through the last of the trees and into the clearing. Sam, leveling the rifle in the direction of the cabin, moved alongside the girl, and Viola followed behind Jud.
They were halfway to the cabin when the old man, brandishing his own rifle, came out. Jud stopped, holding the girl back. Sam took a couple more steps, then also halted. They were still a good hundred fifty yards out, but Jud had no doubt about the old man's accuracy at that range. He could probably shoot an ear off Sam and never even worry about hitting the girl. Sam, on the other hand, might be lucky even to hit the cabin.
"Get back here," Jud called under his breath to Sam. "Put your gun on the girl. And for God's sake, whatever you do, don't shoot her!"
As Sam complied, Desert Rose looked over her shoulder, smiling arrogantly.
"All right," Jud called. "Throw your gun down."
The old man hesitated, his rifle still leveled in Jud's direction.
"Get that gun right up to her temple, Sam," Jud commanded sharply.
Sam stepped closer, pressing the rifle barrel to the girl's temple.
"Now throw it down!" Jud called again, putting all the toughness he could in his voice. "We're not here to play games. You know what we're after."
The old man waited a moment longer, fidgeting nervously, then dropped the rifle.
"Now back away from it," Jud shouted. "And stay out where we can see you. We're coming up."
The old man stepped back about five feet, glancing nervously through the door at the side of the cabin, then looking back toward Jud and the others.
"Okay, let's go," said Jud.
Slowly, with Sam still holding his rifle on the girl, they walked on toward the cabin. Jud studied the old man, trying to find some feature that would allow him to accurately assess his character.
Jud guessed him to be about sixty, though he could have been younger, or several years older, for that matter. His hair was graying, and hung down over his ears, and there was a month's growth of sparse beard on his jaw. His eyes were a crystal blue, sharp and intense, and though he had a shriveled appearance, he seemed spry and agile. He wore a denim shirt and khaki trousers, a pair of worn, muddy cowboy boots and a tattered, weather-beaten Stetson which had all but lost its slipae. Silently he watched their approach. Jud guessed he wouldn't be afraid of hell itself. Now his only concern seemed to be for Sam's carelessness with the gun, still pointed at Desert Rose. ' "What's your name?" Jud asked sharply.
"Jonathan Cunningham, at yo' service, suh," the old man answered in an accent Jud placed at maybe the Carolinas or Virginia.
"Where's the other girl?" Jud asked. "The kid."
"Sally's inside."
"Get her out here," Jud said.
"Sally, I guess you bettah come out."
Hesitantly, the girl Sam had tackled yesterday stepped through the door of the cabin. Her sex was a bit more distinguishable now. It could have been because there was no hat to hide any part of her pert face, or it might have been the way she wore her denim shirt-a copy of the old man's-tied up in a knot just below her breasts, showing a nice expanse of the white flesh of her belly, punctuated by a cute little navel. The fact that the jeans she wore looked like she'd grown into them didn't hurt, either. She really had a nice little ass.
Sam was noticing too-so much so that he wasn't watching Desert Rose, though he still held the gun to her head.
"Careful, Sam," Jud said. "You don't have to point the gun at her any more. Just be ready in case one of them makes a move."
Slowly, Sam lowered the gun.
"Where are the rest of your firearms?" Jud asked Cunningham.
Cunningham shrugged. "That's the crop of it right there." He indicated the rifle on the ground.
Jud released his grip on Desert Rose's arm, walked over and picked up the rifle. He hefted it, testing the feel of it. Desert Rose moved over and took her place beside Cunningham and the girl called Sally.
"First let's go inside and have a look around."
"Make yourself at home," the old man said, gesturing toward the cabin. "My house is yourn, suh."
Jud noted the mockery in the way the old man attached the "suh." Well, he didn't much blame him if his hospitality wasn't genuine.
Gesturing with gun, Jud herded first the three prisoners, then Viola and Sam, into the little cabin. As he'd guessed, it was a two-room place. But there was a wood floor which he hadn't quite expected, a heavy dining table and three chairs, and a stone fireplace. Jud went through and looked at the other room. There were no furnishings here except a couple of pallets on the floor.
"How long you been here?" Jud asked.
"Off 'n on, 'bout a year," Cunningham said.
Jud looked at Sally, then at Desert Rose, then back to old Cunningham. "What's your relation to these two?"
The old man got a strange gleam in his eyes. He looked at Sally, then at Desert Rose, then for a moment just stared with appraising eyes at Viola Bartell. At last he returned his attention to Jud. He was smiling, and the gleam was still in his eyes. "You tryin' to find out about my sexual habits?" he asked in a taunting tone.
Jud smiled. He'd taken an instant liking to old Cunningham.
"I'll admit," the old man said, "that I ain't as spry as you young whippersnappers. Can't hop on an' off like a jack rabbit. Take's a little while to get me goin'. " He paused, watching Jud, then continued. "Sally here's my granddaughter. And Desert Rose, I took in when her husband got killed, bein' a friend o' the family. Brung Sally up 'cause I don't trust leavin' her to the evils of the world. And Desert Rose's strong and clear-headed as a man, aside from bein' one hell of a woman."
Jud glanced at the Indian girl. She smiled challengingly, proudly at him. When he returned his attention to Cunningham, he saw that the old man was making another appraisal of Viola, and concerning himself more with her body than anything else about her.
"We've been horsin' around long enough," Sam said impatiently.
Jud almost snickered. There'd be nothing he'd like better to see than old Cunningham and Viola tangling. Jud had an idea the old man could cut her down to size if he put half his mind to it.
"I guess you know what we're here for," Jud said.
"Reckon I do," the old man answered, returning his gaze to Jud. "I reckon you want my gold."
"Now we're talking!" Sam interjected.
"Well, as we understand it," said Jud, "it's Spanish gold." He smiled. "I guess it will belong to whoever gets it down from the mountain."
"And we intend to be the ones that get it down," Sam said gruffly. "And we don't care what we have to do to accomplish that."
The old man just smiled-unperturbed, patient. Jud had begun to doubt that he himself would go very far at all toward getting the gold. At least he didn't intend to do any of these people any harm. But it wouldn't hurt to run a bluff.
"You might save everyone some trouble by just giving it to us now," he said.
The old man shook his head. "Ain't got it."
Sam lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply and let the smoke drift out of his mouth. He walked slowly over to Sally, taking her by the arm and drawing her away from the others. She cringed at his touch, but didn't resist. Cunningham watched with calm alertness. Sam held the gun tucked under his arm.
"Do you have any idea what this cigarette's going to feel like if I decide to put it out on this child's belly?" Sam asked calmly, reaching down to stroke the girl's bare midriff with his thumb.
The girl said nothing, but looked pleadingly at old Cunningham. Jud noted that Desert Rose was trying to loosen her hands from the bindings behind her back. He doubted if she'd succeed, he'd been careful to make them secure. The only thing that disturbed Jud now was that he knew Sam wasn't bluffing. He found himself almost praying the old man would miraculously produce a bag of gold coins, not as much for the gold as for the fact that it would avoid trouble with Sam-trouble that might well result in a shoot-out.
Sam released the girl and backed away, taking another deep, leisurely drag on the cigarette, and the girl scurried back to Desert Rose's side.
"I figure there must be about twenty thousand in gold up here," Sam said. "Now, I'm not a cruel man, but I'd go a long way for twenty thousand, if you know what I mean. So you can save your granddaughter a lot of misery by just handing it over."
Cunningham just watched Sam for a moment. His smile had gone, but he still seemed perfectly in control of his emotions.
"My granddaughter don't know where that gold is," Cunningham said calmly. "Neither does Desert Rose. Nobody knows but me."
"You're the only one I'm asking to tell," Sam said, dragging again on the cigarette, then holding it up to watch the glowing tip.
Then, without warning, the old man made his move. He dropped into a half crouch, and his hand shot into his pocket. Sam, his reflexes still sharp as any college athlete's, moved almost as quickly, swinging his gun up to waist level on the old man, his finger instantly finding and squeezing the trigger.
Jud's reflexes were still good too-perhaps even better than Sam's. He dropped his own gun and threw a flying body block, catching Sam knee-high and doubling him up on the floor, and somehow simultaneously managing to grab the rifle barrel and pull it down, so the shot went into the floor. Then, rolling, he tried to right himself to defend against the old man's knife, which he'd glimpsed as he threw the block.
But to Jud's surprise, the old man hadn't even moved toward them. He was standing right where he'd been, holding the gleaming steel blade of a hunting knife up to his own throat. The look in his eyes was the look of a madman.
"Now I told you I was the only one who knows where that gold is," Cunningham said, his voice trembling.
Jud and the baffled Sam got slowly to their feet, their eyes intent on the blade of the knife, pressed against the old man's throat so hard that it had broken the skin enough to show a few drops of blood.
"Now hold it," Jud said. "Take it easy."
He took a couple steps toward the old man, but Cunningham retreated, careful to keep plenty of distance between himself and Jud.
"That's my gold!" the old man cried out. "If I can't have my share, nobody will!"
Sam and Jud looked at each other incredulously, then back at the old man.
"Just take it easy," Jud repeated.
"If you want to be pardners, we'll be pardners," the old man said.
Jud looked at Rose and the other girl. They were both staring in awe at Cunningham.
"What do you think?" Sam asked under his breath.
"That's my gold!" the old man cried, almost hysterical now.
"Let's string along with him," Sam whispered.
"All right," Jud said. "We'll go partners on it."
Cunningham moved the knife a couple of inches away from his throat. He looked questioningly at Jud and Sam. There was a strange glimmer of hope in his eyes.
Jud took another step toward him. "Now, just give me the knife. We'll go partners."
Cunningham retreated back to the wall of the cabin. His eyes again assumed the wild look, and again he pressed the blade against his throat.
"Let me have the knife," Jud entreated him.
"I keep the knife," Cunningham said. "I'm the only one who knows where the gold is. I keep the knife."
Jud sighed. "All right. You keep the knife. Just be careful you don't cut your throat."
"We're pardners?" the old man asked with cautious hope.
"Partners," Jud said.
Slowly Cunningham lowered the knife, slipping it back into a scabbard he wore inside his trouser pocket. Jud had the feeling it had been concealed there for just this purpose.
"We'll string along with him till we get the gold," Sam whispered. "Then maybe a little accident, huh?"
Jud didn't answer. He noticed that the old man had been whispering something to Desert Rose, and was now in the process of untying her hands. Well, that was probably all right, as long as he and Sam kept the guns.
"I'll have these womenfolk stir us up some vittles,"
Cunningham said. "Then I'll take you up to the diggin's."
"Diggings?" Sam and Jud asked simultaneously.
"Where the gold is," Cunningham explained, a sharp impatience in his voice, as if their question had been a stupid one. "You see, when the Spaniards come through here, they buried the gold-a ways on up the mountain. Now the map I seen-I was smart enough to destroy it after I'd committed it to memory-wasn't too accurate as to where the gold is buried. And it's been there for three hundred years, you understand. A lot of soil's washed down on in. Have to dig down four or five feet, do it systematically, cover the whole plateau, to make sure we don't miss it. That's why I was kindly glad to see you young fellers. Diggin's hard for an old coot like me.
Jud and Sam looked back at each other, both skeptical. The prospect of digging up a whole plateau didn't sound inviting at all.
"Heap of work," Cunningham said. "But for twenty thousand, it'll be worth it. I just got to have your word on one matter."
"What's that?"
"Once I show you where the diggings is, you won't try to run out on the partnership. I just need your word," he said, addressing Jud.
The whole idea seemed pretty farfetched to Jud. He couldn't remember the last time anybody had asked him for his word. He didn't know people still put stock in that sort of thing. Every minute he was becoming more doubtful of the old man's mental health.
"Tell him yes," Sam whispered.
"All right," Jud said, feeling a little foolish. "You have my word."
"Now, girl," Cunningham said to Sally. "Why don't you git busy on them vittles? These boys ain't gonna be able to work on an empty stomach."
After a hearty breakfast, they gathered up Cunningham's supply of picks and shovels, took dried beef to snack on, and made the hour's hike up to what Cunningham referred to as the diggin's. It was a long, narrow plateau, running along the edge of a steep rock bluff. Jud estimated it to be less than half the size of a football field, and the dirt, washed down from farther up the mountain, was not as hard packed as it might have been. But it was still going to be a lot of digging. Thus far, there had only been two ditches dug along the edge of the bluff, each perhaps ten feet long, a couple of feet wide, and several feet deep, and they'd now been partially filled in. The old man had scarcely made a start toward what had to be done, if indeed there was validity to his story.
Jud lost enthusiasm immediately. He wished he were sitting in a cantina back in Ciudad Juarez, and had never even heard Sam's story about the treasure. But since he'd come this far, he might as well put a little more effort into it.
Sam was equally pessimistic. Only the old man was eager to get started, and his enthusiasm was almost maniacal.
He did have one good argument. The fact that he had uncovered several coins-among them the one that had accidentally been given to Desert Rose's cousin at the curio shop-did prove that there was some gold here somewhere, or that there had been. And there was nothing else to go on but the old man's information. If he didn't know where the gold was, nobody did, and Jud and Sam had very little choice but to play along with him.
Reluctantly, Jud and Sam set about doing the heavy work, while the women were ordered to help out as best they could. The old man, to Jud's amusement and Sam's antagonism, assumed a role similar to that of a foreman on a construction job-stalking around, encouraging everyone else to keep busy.
It was a long, fruitless day. By late afternoon they'd covered very little of the area, and they'd found nothing. Everyone but Cunningham was hot, tired and irritable. Even Desert Rose and Sally were dubious. But Cunningham was still maniacally optimistic, already looking forward to an earlier start tomorrow.
There was one bright spot for Jud in the otherwise disheartening day. That was Desert Rose's candid proposition that she and Jud sneak away for the night when the others had gone to sleep.
CHAPTER 9
CUNNINGHAM HAD A GOOD CACHE OF supplies-staple foods such as beans and rice, and a fair variety of canned goods, including some canned ground beef. Sally cooked up a meal that was a real treat after the stringy dried beef.
There wasn't room for everyone at the table, so at the old man's insistence, the women had to settle for the floor. Only Viola complained about this, Cunningham's women seeming to accept it as their natural lot.
Sam spent most of the meal making sarcastic remarks about the mythical treasure, which he'd already come to disbelieve in. Cunningham ignored this, and talked incessantly about how he would spend his share of the money: sending Sally off to finishing school to make a lady of her, dressing Desert Rose in the finest clothing and parading her around Albuquerque, buying himself a pickup truck.
When they'd finished eating, Cunningham suggested they have a smoke, then retire early so as to get a head start on the morning. He meant it literally: He planned to set out before daybreak, and said they would be at the diggings by the time there was enough light to work. At least the hike up the mountain wouldn't be so bad this time; they had nothing to carry but water and dried beef, as they'd left the picks and shovels there.
Without being told, Sally got up and began clearing the table. As she did so, Jud caught her eye, and she smiled a strange kind of beckoning smile. He couldn't help but wonder whether it was just the innocent smile of a girl, or the wanton invitation he would have taken it for had she been older.
Cunningham finished his smoke and announced that it was bedtime. Nobody objected. They'd all had a long, rough day.
Cunningham, Desert Rose and Sally took the bedroom, while Jud, Sam and Viola spread their sleeping bags to either side of the dining table. Almost immediately, Sam began to snore. Jud, with Desert Rose's proposition in mind, kept himself awake, a task that wasn't easy.
About forty-five minutes after they'd bedded down, Desert Rose appeared, tiptoeing through the doorway from the other room. Holding her finger up for silence, she motioned for him to follow her, then went on out the door.
Jud got up, slipped into his boots as quietly as he could, then rolled his sleeping bag into a bundle. He debated about what to do with Cunningham's rifle, and finally decided to take it along. It might be a good way of testing Desert Rose's motives.
She was standing outside the door. There was just over half a moon, and her dark face glistened in the light. Jud couldn't help but notice that her buckskin shirt was already half unbuttoned down the front, displaying enough copper-shadowed cleavage to generate a stirring in his loins that made him temporarily forget his fatigue.
"Good; you brought the sleeping bag," she whispered, reaching out to take his arm. "We can go over there against the bluff, or back into the forest."
"I don't guess it matters," said Jud. "Over there."
They walked the hundred yards to the gray-white bluff, which had appeared to be right behind the cabin from their vantage point in the woods yesterday. Jud dropped the bag, spread it with his foot, then walked over and leaned the rifle against a big boulder.
"You brought the rifle," Desert Rose said with a smile. "I see you still don't trust me."
Jud laughed. "I'm not sure who I trust any more."
He walked back to her, reaching out to place his hands on her shoulders, and drew her gently to him, feeling the firmness of her breasts on his chest, feeling her push her thighs against his. Their lips touched gently for a moment, then more firmly, her mouth opening to let him push his tongue between her teeth.
They kissed for a long time. Then they parted; drawing their heads back to look into each other's eyes.
"Are you tired?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips.
Jud nodded, saying nothing.
"And it's all for nothing," she said. "You know there's no gold."
Jud dropped his hands from her shoulders, taking a step back from her. So this was why she'd brought him out here. Just another trick. For the first time since early this morning, he was again certain there wax gold.
"Is that the only reason you wanted to come out here? So you could tell me that?"
She laughed. "No, you stupid bastard. I don't care if you dig up the whole mountain, as long as there's a little of that left for me at night." Licking her lips in a gesture that could suggest but one thing, she nodded her head, eyes fixed below Jud's belt.
Then in one quick motion her hands undid the buttons which held her buckskin shirt together, and she peeled it off her shoulders and let it fall behind her. Her dark copper breasts spilled out, jiggling enticingly. The deep maroon nipples were already swollen, taut and inviting.
Jud didn't make a move. He just stared at her, still skeptical.
"Jud," she whispered, "you don't have to mistrust me forever, do you?"
He laughed. He really didn't want to; he didn't want to mistrust her at all.
"I'm cold," she purred. "Take your clothes off and let's get in the sleeping bag."
Jud pushed her back, looking down at the curvaceous breasts. He nodded and began taking off his shirt.
The mountain air was chilly, and he hurried to get his boots off so he could remove his trousers and get into the bag. As he was knelt over to undo the laces, Desert Rose scurried across to the boulder, grabbed the rifle and leveled it on him.
It was all very undramatic. One minute he was careful, suspicious, wary as a wild animal; the next he was shivering from the cold, but at the same time panting like a dog after a heated bitch-off his guard completely.
And Desert Rose, still naked to the waist, her coppery skin goose-bumped from the cold, was holding the rifle on him and laughing.
"Oh, Jud, you should have known better! You are so weak and gullible." She smiled, her knuckles white with her tight grip on the gun. One finger curled like a rattlesnake around the trigger.
Jud, one boot on and one off, straightened up and stared into her face. He'd almost be willing to bet his life she wouldn't shoot him. Almost. . .
Well, he'd wanted to test her; that was half the reason he'd brought the rifle out. The least he could have thought to do was unload it before he gave her an opportunity like this. But there was one thing he found at least a little amusing: Sam wasn't going to like this at all.
"Put the gun down," Jud said.
She laughed again, causing her breasts to jiggle. In spite of everything, Jud could feel that his prick was hard as a rock.
"Now you are my prisoner," she said. "You are the hostage."
Jud took a cautious step toward her. "Put the gun down," he said, his voice surprisingly calm.
She laughed. "What if I did? Would you take me with you under the sleeping bag and make me very warm and happy for a while?"
Jud laughed. This was, aside from its more somber facets, a very amusing situation.
"You know I would, baby," He mocked the tough movie hero type with his voice.
"Take your pants off," she said tersely, gesturing toward him with the gun barrel.
Jud stared incredulously. "What?"
"I said take your pants off."
Her face was serious, cold and hard, she wasn't kidding. Shrugging with self-consciousness, he leaned down and unlaced his other boot, then pulled it off. He straightened up, looking back at Desert Rose. She hadn't moved, and her expression hadn't changed, and for the first time, Jud realized that she was pointing the gun not at his belly, but at his crotch. He quickly unbuttoned his trousers, and in one motion pulled off both them and his drawers. His prick was only about half hard now, and getting softer by the minute.
Desert Rose stared at him for a moment longer. Then her face relaxed into a smile. She flicked the safety on and tossed the rifle away, then reached down and began unbuttoning her buckskin trousers.
Jud started to break and run for the gun, but realized she was still a good five feet closer to it than he. He decided to let well enough alone. He watched her peel the buckskins off her hips, baring her copper colored belly, the dark V of her snatch, the contoured thighs. Then he turned and walked to the sleeping bag, folding its top flap back and waiting for her to come and get in first.
She walked slowly over to him. She shivered from the cold, but rather than immediately get into the bag, she wrapped her arms around him and pushed her naked body up against him. He could feel the hair of her cunt touching his thighs, feel her breasts against his arms. Her lips touched the side of his face, and then she stood up on tiptoe to reach his lips.
Jud turned slowly, then grabbed her arms and violently held her away from him. Now that the humiliation of finding her with the upper hand had worn off, he was very angry.
"Don't ever do that again," he said, his voice quivering with the rage that was still building inside him. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her arms.
"How do you think I felt last night?" She was still smiling at him.
Jud tried to smile too. He didn't blame her. What he'd done last night wasn't exactly the kind of thing that should endear a woman to a man, at least not one with spirit. But he couldn't control himself now. The anger was still raging in him.
"Don't ever do anything like that again!" he heard himself repeating. '
He involuntarily tightened his grip on her arms, his fingers digging in even deeper. He heard her give out a little gasp of pain, but it scarcely registered.
"Jud?" she asked, disbelieving him the way he was now.
And then he was shaking her, so hard that her head flopped back and forth, out of her control. And she was trying to cry out, trying to tell him to stop, and he could hear and surmise that that was what she was trying to say, even if she were unable to get the words out.
Then something collapsed in him. The rage drained out as a valve somewhere in his subconscious opened. He turned loose her arms, and his hands fell limply at his sides.
Desert Rose dropped to her knees on the sleeping bag, and he could see the deep crimson welts he'd made on her arms. And then she slid her arms up around his thighs, pulling herself up, burying her face between his legs. He could feel her tears on his thighs.
Jud reached down and ran his fingers into her long black hair, taking hold of it and gently tugging her head away from him, tilting it back to turn her face up.
Her eyes had a wild, wanton look-a look of spirited surrender. Her cheeks glistened in the moonlight, and her lips were parted, the tip of her tongue showing between her teeth. Her breath came in short gusts.
For a minute Jud just stared down at her. Then he pushed her back so she reclined on the sleeping bag. He studied her dark, shapely body, as much at his disposal now, he knew, as it had been last night when she was literally his prisoner.
He dropped to his knees between her outspread thighs. Only vaguely aware of the cold, he ran his hands quickly over her body, exploring her rounded breasts, moving down her silken stomach into the triangle of thick hair.
She spread her thighs even more as his hand moved between them, the fingers playing for a moment at her already moist labia before he pushed them into her pulsing cunt, prompting a sharp gasp of pleasure and a quick upward arching of her hips.
And at the same time he leaned down, touching his lips to her cheek, then running them down her neck and across the rise of her breasts, finally taking one hardened nipple in his mouth and biting and sucking furiously on it.
"Oh, Jud!" she wailed. He felt her begin to contort her hips madly against the skillful prodding of his finger.
And then he felt her arms go around his back, her nails digging into his flesh, slashing in mad frenzy, urging the full weight of his body down on hers.
He resisted for a moment, pushing his finger deeper into her cunt, and then he withdrew it and dropped onto her, his prick pushing against her warm inner thigh.
Frantically she reached down across his buttocks and between his thighs, straining to reach his prick. Finding this impossible, she teased his balls for a moment, then withdrew her hand and arched her hips up, reaching under her own thigh to find his cock and fit it to her labia.
And then both her hands were on his buttocks, urgently tugging him downward. At the same time she was making upward lunges with her hips, driving her loins against him until his prick was in her to the hilt.
Jud set a hard-driving rhythm, lifting himself and thrusting hard into her, and she responded with frenzied undulations of her hips.
The velocity of the rhythm increased. She threw her" legs up around him, locking them behind his back. He felt the fullness of her breasts against his chest, the tautness of her nipples. She punctuated his thrusts with little purring sounds, and all the while her hands ran frantically over his body, her nails still slashing, giving him a sensation of mingled pain and pleasure.
The crescendo continued to build. Jud's craving became maddening fury. Power surged in his body, finding focus in his driving loins as the motion of their bodies became still more furious. Her purrs changed to cries of ecstasy; she dropped her legs from his back, planting her feet wide and bending her knees, giving more leverage and at the same time opening herself wide. Her hands came to rest on his buttocks, and with each of his strokes she pulled him deeper into her.
"Oh, yes!" she cried. "Harder!"
And though he'd thought he was going as fast as was possible, somehow he managed to respond, again increasing the tempo.
The sound of their bodies smacking together competed with her cries of pleasure and Jud's hoarse and frantic breathing.
And then they moved into the last realm of frenzy. Jud felt a surging in his loins, felt himself seem to blow up in a final burst of power and fury, then spew out into her. At the same time, her body tossed wildly beneath him in a series of sporadic contortions that defied rhythm.
Her hands left his hips, running quickly up his back and through the hair on his head. She held her hips arched up for an instant, and after a last series of twitches, her body sagged limply.
Jud collapsed on her, his hands running gently down her flanks. He felt her inner muscles tighten on him, caressing his prick one last time. She sighed happily and pulled the flap of the sleeping bag over them, wrapping her arms about him and holding him to her.
CHAPTER 10
THE NEXT DAY WAS UNBELIEVABLY HOT. THE mountain breeze they'd grown accustomed to had deserted them, and there wasn't so much as a whif of a cloud in the sky. The ground seemed harder, rockier, than on the day before, though Jud knew that was only imagination, and tempers grew short, which was not at all imaginary.
They still hadn't made a substantial dent in the plateau, and it wasn't hard to see that it would take them several weeks if they were going to dig up the whole thing. Viola refused to work at all, and Sam was beginning to voice his doubts about existence of the treasure. Jud said nothing, but the old man's enthusiasm-which hadn't waned-was beginning to convince Jud of Cunningham's madness.
Jud found it hard to believe Cunningham was as unreal as he seemed. There was something incongruous about his apparent lunacy. Jud hadn't completely gotten over his first impression of the old man-one that certainly didn't fit with the image now evoked. But if for no other reason than to avoid trouble, he was willing to play along with what seemed more and more like a gag.
At lunch break, no one spoke except Cunningham, who rattled incessantly about how he felt in his bones they would find the gold any minute. He began urging them back to work before they'd even finished their portions of dried beef, and in retaliation, all but Desert Rose lingered in the shade of the bluff long after they'd finished eating.
Desert Rose shrugged at Jud, then got up and followed the old man back to work. Jud was beginning to believe what she'd said about there being no gold. It seemed as if she were just humoring the old man.
Eventually, at Sam's prodding, the others also got up and returned to work. As lazy as he was, Sam wasn't yet willing to give up completely.
The sun grew hotter in the afternoon. Even old Cunningham began to tire, and he discontinued his prattle about the treasure. Grudgingly, they dug. The thud of the picks into the ground became a slow, seemingly endless rhythm.
It reminded Jud of his Army days. He'd once done a stint in the stockade, and for twelve hours a day, six days a week, he and the other prisoners had worked at digging a ditch six feet deep and extending the entire length of the stockade yard. When the ditch was completed and approved by the guard, they would fill it up, pack the dirt down, and begin a new one right next to it. The process was repeated until they'd worked their way clear across the yard. Then they would start over. The fact that the ground had been dug up many times and was relatively soft didn't make the task any more pleasant or fulfilling. In fact, it only served to increase the monotony.
At about three o'clock, the monotony of Jonathan Cunningham's diggings was suddenly broken.
"I found it!" the old man screamed, breaking a silence that had endured for almost an hour.
The others stopped digging, dropped their instruments. Sam scrambled up out of the ditch he'd been working in, dashed halfway across to the bluff where the old man had worked on a continuation of one of his original ditches. He stopped, afraid to go closer.
Jud just stood where he was, scarcely believing what he'd heard.
"I found it!" Cunningham cried again.
The old man lifted his pick and sliced it back into the soft dirt. They all heard the sound of metal striking metal.
"I found something!" the old man cried. "There's something down there!"
Sam broke into a run. When he got to where Cunningham was working, he wrestled the pick away from him and began to dig frantically.
"That's it!" the old man cried. "Gold!"
The three women scurried across to Sam and the old man. Jud walked over, pushing Viola out of the way so he could look into the ditch where Sam was digging madly-in dirt, Jud saw, that had just recently been shoveled back into the ditch.
"Gold!" Cunningham shrieked again, dropping to his knees and beginning to shovel the dirt out with his hands, oblivious to the pick which Sam still wielded furiously.
Sam tossed the pick away and also went to his knees, raking the loose dirt away with his hands, fighting with the old man to be first at what they both envisioned to be a treasure chest. Sam won the race. It was he who uncovered the metallic object the pick had struck.
It wasn't a treasure chest. It was the old man's Army-surplus canteen, which he must have dropped only a short while before, then accidentally buried.
"A canteen!" Sam said in a whisper of incredulity. "A goddamn canteen!"
Sheepishly, Cunningham looked up at Jud. "I thought that was it," he said. "I thought it was the treasure." He gave out an embarrassed little laugh. He took the canteen from Sam, holding it up and staring at it with disbelief. "I thought that was it."
"You goddamn fool!" Sam snapped. "It's your canteen! You just buried it." He looked up at Jud. "The old fart buried it himself."
"I thought it was the gold," the old man repeated. He gave out with a loud burst of laughter, then uncapped the canteen, dented by the blows of the pick, held it up and poured the water into his mouth. Some of it trickled down into his dirt-darkened beard. He looked around at Desert Rose. "I thought it was the gold."
Desert Rose dropped to her knees, reaching out to lay her hand affectionately on the old man's cheek. "It's all right," she said quietly.
"The old fart dug up his own goddamn canteen!" Sam said again.
Viola gave out with a sudden burst of raucous laughter. "You're all crazy!" she cried. "You're all as crazy as this old madman! There's no gold!"
"There is gold!" Cunningham said firmly, surprisingly calm now. "We came so close then-so close to finding it, that time!"
"Shit!" Sam laughed.
Jud turned and walked away. If there'd been any doubt in his mind about the old man's insanity, that last statement had voided it. Cunningham was mad as a hatter. There might well be gold somewhere, but Jud doubted that Cunningham knew where it was.
Jud didn't even care any longer. He was fed up with the whole operation. He wanted to go back to some sort of comfort-a nice bed. A bottle of beer right now would be the most wonderful thing in the world-just a bottle of cold beer, and maybe a little Mexican music while he was drinking it.
He was tired of Sam and Viola Bartell, tired of being made a fool of by a crazy old man. So to hell with it. If there was gold buried on that plateau, they could have it, if they wanted to keep digging. He was finished.
Without looking back, he started down the steep mountain trail. It occurred to him that he'd left his rifle-Cunningham's rifle-back at the diggings. To hell with that too; he wasn't going to shoot anybody. Let Cunningham have the friggin' rifle. All he wanted now was to be cool and rested.
Jud didn't stop at the cabin. He made his way on across the clearing cut through the woods back to the creek, to the very spot where he'd made love to Viola a mere two days ago. That seemed so far away now, like something out of a dream.
Without hesitation, Jud stripped his clothes off and waded into the water. It felt cool and good on his parched, dust-crusted skin. He sprawled in water too shallow for swimming, submerged his head completely, then came up and assumed a cross-legged sitting position. The water came just to his chin.
He sat there for a long time, his mind drifting aimlessly. It was almost like being asleep.
A rustling in the bushes on the bank startled Jud out of his reverie. Checking the impulse to rise, he looked up along the bank.
Sally Cunningham stood there, just at the edge of the cedar trees. She wore the same denim shirt, tied in a knot below her pert little breasts, and the tight jeans. Her face was smudged with dirt, but nonetheless attractive.
"Hello, Jud," she said. She blushed bashfully. "What are you doing here?"
"I followed you. I could see you come across the clearing into the woods. I thought this was where you would be."
Jud wasn't sure what to say or do. He glanced at his clothing, piled on the edge of the sandbar. He'd long since grown out of the habit of being embarrassed when a woman saw him nude, but this was just a child. Somehow there seemed to be a difference.
"What.. . what do you want?"
She blushed even more. Her pretty face was almost crimson beneath the streaked dirt. "I want to come in swimming with you," she said.
She reached up and began unbuttoning the shirt.
"I.. . don't think you'd better," Jud stammered, though he couldn't help but be excited by the prospect. Too excited. He'd never be able to control himself.
Ignoring his protest, she finished unbuttoning the shirt, then pulled it off her shoulders and let it fall to the ground beside her. The motion of her arms caused her pert breasts to jiggle slightly. They were small, but perfectly rounded. Her skin was very white, with just a trace of freckles above her vaguely defined cleavage. The pink nipples were taut and inviting, x "Sally, I don't know if you understand what you're doing," Jud cautioned. "I mean, I'm not made of ice. You can't just.. . go swimming naked with me."
He couldn't take his eyes off her torso. There was something so pure and innocent about the two little breasts. The whiteness excited him, partly because of its contrast to Desert Rose's copper flesh, to which he'd become accustomed during the last couple days. He wondered what she would think if she knew he'd taken old Cunningham's granddaughter.
"Sally, I think you'd better put your clothes back on and get out of here," he said, more out of duty than any real desire to have her comply.
She took a deep breath, smiling suggestively. "Do you think I don't understand what I'm doing? I may not be as young and innocent as you think."
She hesitated a moment longer, then unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied out of them. She posed for a moment, letting Jud hungrily survey her body in all its naked beauty. Her thighs were as white as the upper half of her body, bordering on plumpness but in a shapely, appealing way. Her belly was smooth and flat; the creamy skin had a silken texture. The triangle of hair that crested her thighs was as golden as that on her head.
From the proud smile on her face, it was evident that she enjoyed being looked at as much as Jud enjoyed looking.
"Well," she asked at length, "do you want me to come in or not?"
"Yes," Jud croaked.
He was still sitting in the water. She stood on the bank a moment longer, smiling down at him. She no longer blushed, and seemingly wasn't the least bit self-conscious about her nakedness. There was no need for her to be; Jud's approval of what he saw was evident.
She started along the bank to the path which led down to the water, picking her way. Jud got a side view of her-a good look at her ripe, dimpled buttocks.
"Why don't you stand up?" she teased as she started down from the bank. "If you can see me, I should get to see you too."
That made sense, he supposed, though he felt strangely self-conscious as he stood up. Until now, he'd been unaware that he already had a hard-on.
She paused on the sandbar, her eyes drifting appraisingly up and down his body, finally settling at a point just below his waist. She took a step forward, just wetting her feet, and paused again.
"Gosh!" she said, a slight shiver passing through her. "I didn't know it would be so big."
For a moment longer she stared incredulously, then waded slowly out toward him.
Jud still felt a slight misgiving about what he was doing. She seemed just a little too young to be fair game. But she said she knew what she was doing, and he could hardly be expected to turn her down.
He took a few steps toward her, and they met in less than two feet of water. She threw her arms around his neck, pressing her small body against him. He felt her throbbing breasts on his chest, the hard little nipples; felt her belly brush over his prick. She stood on tiptoe, pressing her lips to his, opening her mouth to allow him to slip his tongue between her teeth. Passionately she rolled her torso against his.
At last she drew back far enough to look up at his face. He still felt her thighs touching his, the blonde patch of hair brushing lightly against the base of his cock.
"I'm a mess," she said. "Let me wash off first."
Jud nodded, running his hands gently down her back and across the outward flare of her flanks, then dropping them to his sides, and taking a step back.
Again her eyes descended to his rigid prick. Then she glanced down at her own blonde mound, as if taking note of the difference between them. Then she moved past him and plunged headlong into the shallow water, submerging completely and staying under for what seemed like a long time. At last she came up, gasping for breath.
She stood, several feet from him, just watching, waiting for him to make the next move.
Jud was still hesitant, but he had no intention of turning back. He walked across to her, kissed her lightly on the lips, then led her back to the sandbar-almost the exact spot where he'd had Viola.
Sally turned, her nipples brushing his chest, and looked up at him. Jud leaned down to kiss her, at the same time running his hands down her back and grasping her ripe buttocks, pulling her tight against him.
"Ummm, yes," she purred, running her hands over his back and down to his buttocks, wriggling against him. "You feel so strong!" she said. "It seems like you'll crush me."
She kissed him hard on the lips, then moved around and playfully bit his earlobe. At the same time, he ran one of his hands down the cleft of her buttocks and between her thighs from behind.
"Oh, Jud!" she squealed, wriggling her hips. "It feels so good. It's all so fantastically wonderful!"
He pushed one finger up between her thighs, feeling the damp hair, reaching past it to begin to get her ready. But she struggled out of his grip and stepped away. She looked down at the object of her desires.
"I can't believe it's so big!" she said. Then she looked back at his face, and again she smiled self-consciously. "Can I touch it? Just for a minute?"
Jud swallowed and nodded, his eyes again taking in the pure beauty of her youth.
She stepped forward, reaching out furtively to touch the tip of his pulsing prick. A tingle of excitement passed through his body. Now she encircled it with her hands, running them lightly up and down its length, causing waves of desire to surge in his loins. As she did this, she stared at it in fascination.
When she was almost upon him, Jud took a step forward to meet her. She fell into his arms, pressing the fullness of her bosom against him, her warm and ready loins meeting his and just moving ever so delicately to tease his rigid prick.
"It's so beautiful!" she gasped, leaning closer and closer.
Jud's legs were weak. He needed none of this. Despite the workout he'd had the last few days, he was as ready now as he'd ever been for any woman.
"I want to kiss it, Jud, it's so beautiful." She dropped to her knees before him, sticking her tongue out, lightly teasing the sensitive tip for a moment before she opened her mouth and pushed her head forward. Jud felt the scratch of her teeth, reflecting a lack of experience, but he didn't protest. The sight of this beautiful little nymphet on her knees before him was enough to compensate for the mild discomfort. And the feel of her tongue and the roof of her mouth also made for some compensation.
Jud dropped his hands to her shoulders, massaging her flesh as she began to move her head back and forth, sucking ravenously and making muffled sounds deep in her throat.
It went on for what seemed an eternity-too long, Jud realized. He grabbed her head and pulled her away from him. She surrendered to his will, letting him pull her lips away, then push her down to her back on the sand.
Jud dropped to his knees beside her, leaning over to kiss her on the lips, then began to run his hands over her breasts and stomach, and finally through the tangle of hair between her thighs.
Her breath was fast and gusty now, and her whole body writhed beneath his touch, but she'd closed her thighs tightly, locking them on Jud's hand and preventing his further exploration.
Gently he tried to urge her thighs apart. As he did so, he touched his lips to one of her rigid nipples, taking it in his mouth and sucking and nibbling at it. She resisted to the pressure of his free hand on her thigh, but finally acquiesced and parted her legs, and Jud deftly slid between them, lowering his body to hers and at the same time reaching down to touch her already moist cunt lips.
"Jud!" she gasped. "Jud, I'm afraid! It's too big! It won't go in me!"
Jud coaxed her with his hand, moving his head up from her breasts to look down at her face. Her eyes were wild with fear. And now he knew: She was a virgin.
For a moment he just lay there, feeling a sharp, aching frustration in his groin. He'd gone too far to stop now, yet he knew he had to. He couldn't take advantage of her. He slid his hand from between her thighs and rolled onto the sand beside her. His frustration had become a numb, steady throb.
"Why in the hell didn't you tell me?" he rasped. "Aw, hell! I should have known."
Tears came to her eyes and spilled onto her dimpled cheeks. She looked at him, opening her mouth to speak, but for a moment finding no words.
"Please, Jud," she said at last. "I'll try to be good. Just show me what to do, and I'll do it." , Jud gave a sharp little laugh. "I don't want your cherry, kid." He did want it, but he wasn't going to admit that, even to himself.
"Please, Jud!" she said again. "I want you lo show mc. I want to make love. I was just afraid."
Jud clambered to his feet, trying to ignore the throb in his loins.
"Come on, kid," he said tiredly. "Let's get dressed and go back."
She just lay there, staring pleadingly up at him. She let her arms fall out to each side on the sand, and spread her legs in a position suggesting complete surrender.
"Jud, I want it! If I want it, why can't you give it to me?"
"It should be more important than this," he growled. "It should mean something."
"It does mean something. Just this once, it will still mean something."
"I'm the wrong guy, kid. You'll probably never even see me again."
"I don't care. I want you now. I know you're . . . with Rose, and I shouldn't ask you, but.. . "
She took a step toward him, hesitant at first, but then moved quickly throwing her arms about his neck, pushing her naked breasts against his chest, planting her lips on his and kissing him violently.
Jud had already started over to get his clothes. Now he stopped and turned back toward her. He looked at the white body, lying there waiting for him. He looked at her pleading eyes. Once more he allowed himself to be fully aware of the pounding frustration. Why the hell not? He thought. Perhaps it was better with him than some half-pint kid who'd do a messy job of it. Why the hell not?
He walked slowly back to her. She shivered with anticipation as she watched him drop between her outspread thighs, lowering the full weight of his body onto hers.
He stretched out beside her, kissing her gently and running his hands over her body. She responded by making a parallel exploration of his form.
Jud raised up, leaning down to take one maroon nipple in his mouth, gazing down over her belly at the dark V of hair, at the contoured thighs beyond. She was running her hands lightly over his back. He moved his head away from her nipple, kissing down the rounded lower half of her breast, trailing his tongue on down the indentation on her stomach, pausing for just a moment at her navel before he moved on to the raven hair, between her outspread thighs.
He shifted the direction of his body in relation to hers. As he kissed her moistening pussy, he felt her take his prick in her hand, teasing it for a moment with her fingers before she touched her lips to it.
He felt her tense as he pushed his tongue out, cautiously exploring then pushing into her.
He planted his knees and arched up so he could reach under to seize his prick and fit it to her virgin cunt. Holding it poised at the entrance, he leaned down and kissed her on the lips.
She was panting furiously, arching her hips up to meet the anticipated thrust. He could feel her hands running searchingly across his back, finally coming to rest on his buttocks and trying to tug him downward into her.
He forced his tongue between her teeth, bruising her lips with his own, and then he thrust himself through her barrier.
She gave a sharp gasp, turned her head, drawing her lips away to cry out in pain. Her hands slid down his flanks to his pelvic bone. She pushed up against him, and at the same time he felt her try to retreat.
He hesitated a moment, then thrust again into the tightness.
' "Oh, please! No!" she cried.
Jud nodded, feeling her open her thighs so he could push his hand down to rest on the warm lips. He 'leaned over and touched his lips to one taut, purple nipple sucking gently for a moment, then biting down hard enough to make her whole body stiffen.
And as he did that, he pushed one finger between the moist lips of her cunt, just playing about the entrance, teasing.
He drew his lips away, raising up to watch the expression on her face as he pushed the finger into her, massaging the warm, moist walls, pushing in deeper and deeper, feeling her body tense again and hearing a slight gasp escape from her in spite of herself.
He opened his eyes and saw that hers were tightly closed, her face contorted with the intensity of her sensations, whether pain, pleasure or a mixture of both.
Relentlessly he drove himself into her, ignoring her protests.
When the merger was completely, he lay still for a moment, barely breathing. He felt her arms go up and twine themselves tightly around his back, holding him to her. He knew it was only imagination but it seemed he could feel her heartbeat through the tiny breasts flattened against his chest.
"Oh, Jud!" she whispered in his ear. "Jud, you are making me so happy!"
Still not moving, he kissed her again on the lips, gently, affectionately. But her response was nothing short of animal.
He waited as long as he could before beginning to move, but the very tightness of her made lying still a torment for him. He could feel the moisture of her engulfing him, and somewhere in his mind was a picture of the image of purity and innocence she'd presented as she stood naked on the bank. She would never look like that again, he knew. In a way, it was sad. Her hips began to move, and he responded gently, staving off the urgency throbbing in his loins.
"It hurts," he heard her whisper, half delirious. But neither of them altered the movement of their bodies. He lifted up a bit, bending his neck so he could reach his tongue to a little pink nipple. Her whole body contorted, breaking rhythm completely.
He stopped, dropping his weight to halt her motion, and then began again. She tried to respond, but lacking experience, her attempts only served to disrupt his timing.
"It hurts," she said again.
He kissed her in the ear.
"Just lie still," he whispered. "Put your legs up a little."
She did so, and it opened her a little, cutting down on the delicious friction, but making it less painful for her.
"Now let me do the work," he said.
She stayed the unskilled motion of her hips and let Jud assume the full burden. Despite his urgency, he held himself back, making his thrusts thrusts slow and gentle, increasing the velocity only slightly.
He planted his elbows on the ground and lifted himself a bit, balancing on one of them while slipping his free hand between their bodies to play about at the top of her labia opening, an area that for her would be even more sensitive than the interior.
In doing so he struck an even more vital chord than he'd anticipated. She gave out a sharp cry of pleasure, and despite his objection, she began to move again, driving her loins up to meet his. Now, however, she seemed to be picking up on the rhythm, and as he thrust himself into her and drew himself out he stroked her sensitive clit with matching rhythm.
For a long time Jud held himself back, staving off the impulse to forgot about her and let himself go wild.
"Jud," she whispered, her voice quivering, "I can't go much longer. It's . . . too sore."
He let himself go. He drove hard into her, removing his hand from between them to allow him to go all the way into her. He tossed and twisted violently, and Sally tried her best to respond accordingly, writhing and undulating her hips beneath him. And she screamed a wild, piercing shriek that was half pain, half ecstasy.
Jud reached a crescendo of intensity as he moved into the last mad rush to finality. He felt himself explode, and Sally felt it too, or sensed it, and gave him her own last, frenzied effort in response.
Then it was over. He lay tiredly on her for a while. She wrapped her arms around him, gently stroking his back. At last he kissed her, then gently eased himself out. There was blood on the sand between her legs.
Jud looked down at her. He couldn't remember when he'd felt more tenderness toward someone. He almost wished he could devote more time to her introduction to lovemaking, teaching her how to make it better for her partner, how to enjoy it herself. But he knew that was impossible. It occurred to him that, as an alternative, he would certainly like to run into her a few years hence. She would be filled out, grown up. And she'd be one hell of a woman. That was one thing he had no doubt of.
Jud leaned down and kissed her. When he took his lips away, she was smiling.
"Thank you, Jud. That made me very happy."
He didn't know what to say. Strangely, he was embarrassed. So he said nothing for the moment--just slid off and lay beside her, gently stroking her breasts and belly and thighs.
"You're a wonderful kid," he said at last. "I really mean that."
She looked over at him. Her eyes were moist, but there was still a smile on her face. "I know you mean it," she said. "And I'm glad you did this for me. Very glad, Jud."
CHAPTER ll
THE OTHERS WERE WAITING AT THE CABIN WHEN Jud and Sally returned. Sam sat sullenly at the table, across from Cunningham. Viola was stretched out on her sleeping bag on the floor. Desert Rose had been in the other room, but when she heard Jud and Sally enter, she came to the doorway.
She looked first at Sally, then over at Jud. Their eyes met, and she stared knowingly at him for a moment, then turned away and disappeared into the room. Clearly, she guessed what had happened. Jud debated whether to go in after her, and decided against it. He didn't have to answer to her for anything.
"You went off and left your gun," Sam said, holding Cunningham's rifle up. "Good thing we're partners in this damn treasure hunt, or the old man might have got the drop on us."
"We're gettin' close to that gold," Cunningham said idly, to no one in particular. "Come closer to findin' it today than I ever have."
"I'll rustle up some food," Sally said. She brushed past Jud, touching him lightly on the back as he passed.
"Course you boys seem like sometimes you don't even want to find the gold," Cunningham offered.
Sam glared across the table at him. Their eyes met, then Cunningham looked up at Jud.
"You can't expect that gold to hop up out of the ground and greet you," he continued. "You got to dig for it if you expect to find it."
"Dig!" Sam shouted. "Digging for the daydreams of a goddamn half-witted old lunatic, that's what we're doing!"
Cunningham seemed unperturbed by the abuse. "I been diggin' for that gold well nigh a year, off and on. Where we're digging now's the only place it could be. I already dug up all the other'ns."
Jud looked sharply at the old man. Sam sat there for a moment, then suddenly reached across the table and grabbed Cunningham's shirt collar, standing up and pulling the old man's face up almost to touch his own. Viola had risen to a sitting position.
"What did you say?" Sam rasped.
"I said that gold's got to be there. I said this has got to be the place!"
Sam held Cunningham for a moment longer, then released him and let him drop back into his chair. He turned and looked questioningly at Jud.
Desert Rose reappeared in the doorway. Jud noted with a twinge of guilt that her eyes were red and slightly swollen. But now there was an almost evil smile on her face. "I told you, Jud," she said with quiet superiority.
"Desert Rose has faith in me," Cunningham stated. "She knows that gold's up there."
But Jud knew that wasn't what she'd meant. He watched her turn slowly away and go back out of sight. Then he looked back at Sam.
"What do you think?"
"I think we've been had, but good," Sam said.
"What about those coins?" Viola questioned.
That was the only piece of the puzzle that didn't fit into what was otherwise a perfect explanation-that the old man was completely insane, gold-crazy, and the girls were just humoring him along.
"There's gold up there, all right," Cunningham said. "And I need you boys to help me dig it up."
"I'm through digging," Sam said with finality.
Jud pondered for a moment, then walked across to Sally. He put his hand on her shoulder and leaned close to her, looking intently into her pretty blue eyes. "Where did the coins come from, Sally?" he asked, scarcely above a whisper.
She started to speak, but stopped herself. There was desperation in her face.
"Rose and I . . . got them for him," she stammered at last.
"Where? Where did you get them?"
Again she hesitated. She felt as if she was betraying her grandfather's dream, his last hope. "We got them in Las Cruces."
For a long time Jud just stared at her. She couldn't look him in the eye. She'd given away her grandfather's big secret, destroyed his dream.
"Why did you get them for him?"
Sally bit her lips. She still avoided looking at him. "He was always fascinated by stories about . . . Spanish gold. He'd read everything about it, always talked about going to search for it. We saw the coins.. . we bought them for him as.. . a gift." She glanced furtively up at Jud, then pushed past him and ran out the door.
There wasn't much else she could have told him. The rest was evident. The old man's fascination with Spanish gold had become a mania. He'd seen somewhere a replica of a map-or maybe just imagined it. He'd convinced himself he knew where to find a fortune in gold, and the girls had cared enough for him to play along with his fantasy rather than let him do it alone.
Jud walked over and sat down at the table next to Sam.
"Did you hear?"
"Part of it," Sam said tiredly, staring with icy hatred at the old man.
'There's gold here! There's gold enough for all!"
"Shut up," Sam growled. Then to Jud: "We might as well get the hell out of here. Sorry I got you in this damn goose chase."
Jud smiled. "It's been an experience. We'd better eat and get a good night's sleep before we start back down."
"Think you feel like one more night of that, eh?" Sam grinned, glancing over his shoulder toward the room where Desert Rose was.
For lack of a better response, Jud just winked.
"You're running' out on me?" Cunningham said with utter contempt. He spat on the floor, then got up and walked out of the cabin. Jud heard him talking to Sally in hushed tones for a couple minutes, then they both came into the cabin. Cunningham resumed his seat at the table and sulked, pretending that Jud and Sam didn't exist.
Sally hesitated a moment, then went into the other room. Jud could hear her and Desert Rose whispering, but he couldn't make out what they said. After a moment they both came in, and together they prepared supper. They conscientiously avoided even so much as a glance in Jud's direction.
When supper was ready, Cunningham took his portion and went outside. Sally and Desert Rose followed his example.
"How do you like that?" Sam asked. "Won't even eat with us."
"Stealing his gold was one thing," Jud offered in explanation. "Stealing his dream was something else." After that they ate in silence.
Cunningham and the two women came back in, their plates empty. Cunningham said something about how they didn't grow men any more, then excused himself and gestured for Sally to follow him. She cast a lonesome, regretful look at Jud, then went into the other room after the old man.
Desert Rose started to follow, but Jud intercepted her. He caught her by the arm, holding her with a firm grip. She stared coldly at him.
"Come outside a minute," he said quietly but firmly. "I want to talk to you."
She shook her head. "There's nothing to say."
"I told you to come outside."
Without releasing his grip on her arm, Jud led her toward the door. Reluctantly, she came along, outside and away from the cabin.
"All right, what do you want?" she asked when they were well out of hearing distance of the cabin.
Jud still held her arm. For a long time he just stared into her face. "I'm not going to try to deny what happened this afternoon," he said finally.
"It would do no good. I knew it as soon as you came back, and Sally didn't deny it."
"You have no claim on me."
"No, I don't. I claim nothing of you. I don't even claim that I've known you."
Jud tried to pull her up against him, but she stood firm, refusing to budge. Angrily, he turned loose of her arm.
"I should have known what you were like when I saw you with your friend's wife, by the creek. There are three women here, and now you've had us all. What more do you want from me?"
"There's a lot I want from you."
"You can't have it," she said with what seemed to be finality.
He was tempted to let the subject drop. To hell with her, he tried to tell himself. But he didn't feel that way, and couldn't make himself feel that way. If nothing else, he had-for some reason he didn't quite understand himself-to make her understand.
"You'd rather be Cunningham's woman?" he asked spitefully, immediately sorry he'd said it.
"I have never been Cunningham's woman. He was kind to me after my husband was killed. He took care of me. He was very understanding. Other men just wanted my body. I have never been his woman. It wasn't like that."
"What he said . . . ? "
She laughed coarsely. "He was just.. . putting you on."
Then she pushed past him and walked quickly back to the cabin.
Jud stood still for a moment, staring up at the clear, starry sky. Then he walked back, undressed and got into his sleeping bag. Sam and Viola were already asleep, but tired as he was, Jud lay awake for what seemed a very long time.
The trio of disappointed fortune hunters rose early the next morning and prepared to leave. Cunningham had announced that he was staying in bed, adding that it was the first time he'd slept past sunup in years. His capacity for martyrdom seemed to know no limits.
Sally came to the door and said a furtive good-bye to Jud, watching wistfully as the three of them walked away from the cabin. Desert Rose didn't put in an appearance.
They trudged across the clearing toward the woods. They had a long walk ahead of them, and now they were spurred on by no dreams of Spanish treasure. Sam speculated that if they pushed themselves, they could probably make it to the little town at the foot of the mountain by midnight. Going should be easier downhill, but nobody felt like pushing too hard.
When they reached the edge of the woods, Jud dropped his pack and turned for one last look at the cabin. Desert Rose had gotten under his skin-more so than he could have expected.
"Let's don't have any sad good-byes," Sam said. "You act like you'd like to settle here and live."
Jud ignored him, gazing at the cabin. Thoughts were churning so furiously in his mind that he was scarcely able to sort them: Desert Rose, Sally, old Cunningham . . . and something else; he couldn't quite put his finger on it. There was something about the whole episode that had left him unsettled: Not just their failure to find the mythical treasure, it was as if there'd been a missing link in the ordeal.
He was about to pick up his pack when Desert Rose came out of the cabin. She stood just outside for a moment, gazing across the clearing, and then she started walking briskly toward the woods, not quite in Jud's direction.
He hesitated, then stepped back into the clearing, lifting his arm and waving. She saw him, altered her course and quickened her pace.
"Well, isn't that sweet!" Sam chuckled. "Looks like old Jud may have the Indians after him. Squaws, that is."
"Shut up," Jud snapped, walking out to meet her.
When she was still twenty feet away, her walk became a run. She landed in his arms, her arms around his back, squeezing him tightly, her head buried at his shoulder.
For a long time they just held each other. When she lifted her head so he could see her face, she was crying.
"I'm sorry, Jud. I'm sorry . . . last night."
"It's all right. It's all right," he patted her back as if she were a child.
"I was a bitch," she said. "If I had it to do over. . . God, if I could have you for one more night!"
Jud felt the same way. "It's all right. We.. .we know how we feel now, so it's all right."
She reached up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, then tiptoed up to kiss his lips.
"Sometime, Jud," she said calmly, "if I could see you . . . There's so much I should explain."
"It doesn't matter," Jud said.
"In a few days we'll be coming down too. I . . . I can't leave Mr. Cunningham now."
"It's all right."
"But if you're in town when we make it down . . . " Her voice faded. For a moment longer she just looked at him, a strange desperation in her eyes. Then she broke away, turned and ran back toward the cabin.
"Desert Rose!" he called, but she didn't stop.
He watched until she was back in the cabin. Then he turned and went after Sam and Viola.
They trudged on through the trees, each of them now silent and brooding, intent only on getting back to civilization as quickly and uneventfully as possible.
"You don't think we could have made a mistake about that gold, do you?" Sam asked once. "I mean, we wouldn't have dug up any gold if we'd dug up the whole mountain."
"No, I don't think so," Jud said thoughtfully.
It took just less than twenty hours to make the walk from Cunningham's cabin to the settlement at the foot of the mountain. Soon it would be daybreak again, but none of them cared. They went to the town's three-cabin motor lodge, rented a cabin and bought cold drinks from a vending machine to satisfy their thirst. Sam and Viola took the bed, and Jud settled for the floor. He had no trouble sleeping half the day away, and neither did Sam and Viola.
They breakfasted at mid-afternoon, went to a bar and had a few drinks, and then Sam suggested they head back to El Paso.
"You two go on," Jud said. "I think I'm going to stick around here a couple of days."
Sam laughed, and Viola looked at him with unconcealed disappointment.
"You're going to wait for the Indian?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, I guess I will," he said.
"Why don't you come on with us?" Viola entreated him, casting him a look he'd come to recognize well by this time. She seemed to have a one track mind-just more and more of the same old thing.
"No, love," Jud said, his tone slightly sarcastic. "I think I'll leave you to Sam. You can handle her, can't you old pal?"
Sam laughed boistrously and slapped Jud on the back. "Let's go, babe. I think our boy here has fallen in love."
Jud watched them go out the door and get in Sam's car and drive away. He ordered another drink and moved to a table by the side window, so he could watch the trail leading down from the mountain.
There was something else that made him stay-not just Desert Rose. She was part of it, but it seemed that a sixth sense held him back. It wasn't a feeling he could put a name to, but he knew there was something he had to find out, and that if he waited, he'd learn soon enough.
It was nearly dusk when he saw them coming down the trail. He finished his beer, got up and walked out onto the porch that fronted the bar.
The three of them were trudging along abreast, Cunningham between the women. Though they were obviously tired, but the old man walked with pride, arrogant and haughty. They had no gear, jut the rifle-which Desert Rose carried-and a burlap bag slung over Cunningham's shoulder.
Jud didn't have to guess what was in the bag; he knew, suddenly. And now it was all beginning to fit together. It was so simple, it made him feel foolish.
Sally and Desert Rose had bought those coins in Las Cruces, why the big fuss over the one that got into Sam's hands? That was the giveaway, or should have been. It would take a lot of stretching the imagination to think someone would go to all that trouble to get a coin back if it were just a plaything for a senile old man.
Cunningham had feigned madness to get rid of his competition. He'd known all along where to find the gold, and had judged Sam and Jud to be ruthless enough to make him tell sooner or later. He'd launched the insanity game as a last-ditch effort to avoid catastrophe, and toward the end he'd probably gotten to enjoy it.
Jud burst out laughing. It wasn't bad at all.
Of course Cunningham had informed the women of his scheme, and they'd played their parts very well-or at least it had worked out that way. For instance, when Sally had admitted that the coins were bought in Las Cruces, her conscience pangs had clearly registered in her face. But it wasn't a betrayal of her grandfather; she was lying to Jud.
And the business with the canteen. Jud laughed aloud again. The canteen episode had been calculated, the last straw to convince them of Cunningham's insanity. The canteen had been buried under more dirt than Cunningham shoveled in a day. He'd intentionally pushed it into the soft dirt, then chopped around until he hit it with his pick.
Still laughing to himself, Jud walked off the porch and started up the trail to meet them. When Desert Rose saw and recognized him, she tried to break into a ran, but she was too tired. She almost fell, steadied herself, and walked as fast as she could. Jud hurried to meet them.
Desert Rose let the rifle drop to the ground as she fell into Jud's arms, smothering him with kisses. At last he broke away, looking past her toward Cunningham. The old man beamed mischievously.
"You knew where it was all along," Jud said.
"Reckon I did."
"Exactly where it was."
"Reckon so."
Jud eyed the burlap bag, which Cunningham had now set on the ground. It didn't look very full.
"I don't guess it's any secret now, where it was."
"Well, for the last three days it's been under a loose plank in the cabin, long about where the table sits."
Jud laughed. This was even better than he'd thought. He and Sam and Viola had practically been sleeping on it.
"We'd a brought it down a couple days ago if you folks hadn't turned up," Cunningham added, rubbing it in.
Jud nodded. "And where did you find it?"
"That first ditch that was dug on the plateau. O' course there's ten or twelve plateaus on that mountain; I just saw a shred of a map, and from it you couldn't tell just where the gold was-just that it was buried against the bluff on a little plateau. I tried eight of 'em before I hit pay dirt."
Jud looked back at the bag at his feet.
"I 'spect you'd like to see it," Cunningham offered.
Jud nodded, and Cunningham leaned down and opened the bag, giving Jud a look at perhaps two handfuls of worn, brown-looking coins.
"Not much there," Jud said. It wasn't hardly what he'd expected.
"About five hundred dollars," Cunningham said.
"That all? I thought it was supposed to be a treasure."
Cunningham smiled. "Those Spaniards come through here over three hundred years ago. Five hundred dollars went a long way in those days."
Jud laughed. He sifted the coins through his hands, then stood up.
"Five hundred ain't much, but it'll git Sally into school. And buy Desert Rose a few dresses to parade around Las Cruces if she's a mind to."
"You know," Jud told Cunningham, "I had a feeling you weren't as crazy as you looked." Then he turned back to Desert Rose, grabbing her and pulling her up against him, kissing her full on the lips. "I wouldn't mind parading you around some myself," he told her. "Of course I'm kind of short on Spanish gold right now; can't find my own, and not quite smart enough to steal somebody else's."
"That's all right. I love you anyway." She kissed him again. "And Jud, I'm sorry I had to lie to you. I'm really sorry but if you were going to be angry about that, it's not much worse than tying somebody up and scaring them half to death, and doing things to them when they can't get away . . . "
"And don't want to get away?" Jud interrupted.
"And don't want to get away," she agreed. "I don't want to get away now, either."
"Don't try," he said.
CHAPTER 12
"YOU MUST BE HOT AND TIRED," JUD SAID WHEN they got into his cabin.
They'd stopped at the bar and he and Cunningham had put away a couple drinks, then they'd gone over to reserve another cabin for Cunningham and Sally.
Desert Rose stepped up and kissed Jud on the cheek. "Can you cool me off and put me to sleep?" she challenged.
Jud began unbuttoning the denim shirt she'd worn for the hike down the mountain. Simultaneously, she began undoing his shirt. Then they removed their respective trousers and underpants, and both were naked.
They just stood for a moment and admired each other. "It's going to be fun, with a bed, for a change,"
Desert Rose said.
Jud nodded. "Let's see if there's room for two of us in that shower, first."
He walked toward the bathroom door and peered behind the shower curtain. "It'll be a tight fit," he reported, "but we can make it."
He reached in and turned the water on, adjusting the hot and cold to what he deemed the right temperature. She walked over to him, and he slid his arm around her, escorting her into the stall.
There was just enough room for them to soap and scrub each other until their skin glistened. Then for a long time they just stood under hot water, bodies pressed together. At last Jud reached up and turned off the spray, and they got out quickly and helped each other dry off.
They were both impatient, and wasted no time getting to the bed. Desert Rose tossed the covers away and sprawled naked on the sheet. The starched whiteness served to accent the coppery hue of her flesh, which Jud was seeing for the first time in the light.
She sucked ravenously on him, and began to roll her hips. Jud also began to move, alternately sucking and nibbling at her moist treasure, feeling a sharp craving surge in his loins as she increased the motions of her lips and tongue.
Suddenly he could stand no more of it. He raised his head from her, hearing her give out a short gasp of disappointment, feeling her tug at his shoulders to get him to reverse his position on the bed.
He did this, sprawling out on her, arching up his hips and holding himself poised for a last moment of anticipation before he thrust into her.
For a while he just lay there looking down at her, his hands running lightly over her body as she ran her hands over his.
"You make me very happy, Jud," she whispered. "And I'm very happy with you." He kissed her on the lips, then began a slow gyration of his hips, to which she responded perfectly.
She made little purring sounds and closed her eyes.
