Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier] (27 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier]
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“He sounds like a low-down bastard.”

“They have a son, but the hotel man said nothing about a child being with them.”

“Where do you think I should start?”

“Justin is used to the best, so try the best hotels first.”

“Watch your back,” Anton cautioned.

“I intend to. See you in the morning.”

 

After Justin had left her, Helga moved into the chair that he had occupied for most of the day and looked down at the activity on the street below. People strolled along the boardwalks. Carriages passed beneath her window, taking stylishly dressed couples to the Opera House. Helga’s mind was so full of her own problems that she was scarcely aware that Virginia City was celebrating a holiday.

Grateful for the opportunity to allow her shoulders to slump and to allow her usually carefully composed features to reflect her misery, Helga leaned back against the chair and wondered if she would ever get used to the strain of being Justin Rowe’s wife. Only the thought of leaving her son completely helpless in the hands of his father kept her from walking out the door, out of town, and into the vast wilderness that lay beyond, walking on until she found a place where she could lie down and die peacefully. But she had to stay alive to seize the moment if someday she could get Ian out from under Justin’s control. It was what she lived for.

Hours later, Helga heard the key turn in the lock. She lay perfectly still in the bed where she had cried herself to sleep a few hours before. In the chicken yards, roosters had come out to prance, preen, and announce the coming of dawn. A long night was almost over; another uncertain day was beginning.

Justin came into the room, closed the door and locked it. Helga peeked at him while feigning sleep. He placed his hat on a hook at the end of the wardrobe, struck a match, and lit the lamp. After he hung up his coat, he sat down on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes.

“You’re awake, Helga, so open your eyes and listen. I’ve had a very interesting night.” With the end of the bed cover, he carefully wiped the dust from his shoes before setting them side by side on the floor of the wardrobe. “Don’t you want to know what I’ve been doing?”

His voice was slurred as if he had drunk too much. But, Helga thought, Justin never drinks too much. She watched him fumble with the buttons on his shirt.

“If you want me to know, tell me.”

“I want to tell you, or I wouldn’t have asked.” He tossed his shirt on the bed. The soft cloth floated down and covered Helga’s face. “Smell that perfume, Helga. That’s not the cheap stuff whores wear. Who would have thought that in this backwoods place there’d be a woman who wore perfume like that?”

Helga uncovered her face. This was something she had not expected. Justin had left the hotel in a strange, dejected mood and had returned calm, a placid smile on his face.

“Don’t you have anything to say to that?” he asked, going to the mirror above the commode and looking at himself.

“I don’t recognize the scent.”

“Of course you don’t. It’s straight from Paris.” He laughed and she couldn’t believe her ears. Justin didn’t laugh often. “It’s always the darkest before the dawn, Helga.” He continued, still gazing at his reflection in the mirror. “When I left here last night I wasn’t sure I could live. I’ve been dealt a blow, Helga. A cruel one. But now I know what I’m going to do. Do you want to know why I’m so damn certain I can bring that Greek bastard to his knees?”

“Yes, of course, I do,” she murmured, doubting that he even heard her reply.

“I had the most amazing streak of luck tonight. I met a bank employee, and after plying him with more than one round of drinks, he spilled his guts. My dear half brother is going into the lumber business. He’s acquired cutting rights to a vast number of acres and has equipment on the way to set up a mill in the town of Trinity. What do you think of that?”

“Well . . . I—”

“Buying the mine was a cover. It was the only way to get the town. The son of a bitch wanted the location.”

“Did the man from the bank tell you this?” Helga knew from past experience she had to express an interest during the rare times Justin imparted information to her.

“That and more. My new acquaintance does not like the high-handed way Garrick does business. Once, he made a minor error in Garrick’s accounts, and Garrick went to the president of the bank and demanded that another clerk handle his accounts or he’d take his business elsewhere. That put the man in a bad light, and he’s a man who does not forgive his enemies.”

Helga listened. She did not dare voice her opinion, that Garrick had a right to ask for another clerk.

“Between the two of us, we’ve concocted a plan.” Justin laughed nastily. “There are men in this town who would kill their own mothers for a price.”

“Justin! You wouldn’t do such a thing!”

“You think not, Helga? You don’t know me very well if you think I’ll stand by and allow that bastard to enjoy Preston Rowe’s money. But don’t fret about it. I’ll try other tactics first. Wagons break down, rivers freeze over, dams break, fires start, and oh, how these forests can burn.” He recited the words in a singsong voice. “Small things lumped together make big things.”

Helga went pale. Was Justin planning to kill his half brother? What she saw in her husband’s face was so chilling she had trouble bringing her chaotic thoughts back to what he was saying.

“I’ve met a man just waiting to be used. But my ah . . . associate has a flaw that may or may not be a problem for me.”

Justin took off his pants and folded them neatly, smoothing the creases in front that sitting for hours in the dimly lit saloon had left.

“He’s besotted by a twitchy twat who sings and dances at the Opera House. A pecker with a full load would split the skinny little bitch wide open. Her name’s Nan and she cavorts on the stage like a filly in heat. She can kick higher than her head, giving the audience a tantalizing glimpse of her twat.” His lips twitched in a half smile and a trickle of spit ran from the corner. “The bastard watches her and plays with himself.”

His brow furrowed. Had the creases been in his trousers when he went to the Opera House and later to that magical place on the hill?

“I want these pants pressed today, Helga. I don’t want to see a single wrinkle, understand?”

“All right. Do you want the shirt washed?”

“Are you wanting to get rid of that delightful fragrance? I’ve been with another woman. How do you feel about that?” Naked, Justin walked to the end of the bed and placed his hands on the ornate foot of the iron bedstead. While he sucked in his stomach and puffed out his chest, he looked down at his sex hanging between his thighs. “Answer me, Helga,” he said in a softly menacing tone.

“I don’t like for you to go to other women.” She made an effort to inject a suggestion of tears in her voice to please him.

“I met a woman tonight that made
this
stand so high it reached my belly hole. It stood at attention three times, and I didn’t have to beat her ass to do it,” he said proudly. “Shall I tell you how she did it?”

“No. I don’t want to hear.” Helga knew the role she had to play. She thanked God for the unknown woman who had drained her husband and saved her from an unpleasant ordeal this morning.

“You’re going to hear whether you like it or not. Take your hands away from your ears,” he commanded. “The man I met tonight took me up on the hill to a place called the Doll House. He was as stiff as a poker after watching the twit prance around on the stage, and I offered to foot the bill. The Doll House was expensive, but well worth every dollar. I’ve never felt so calm, so peaceful, as I do at this moment.

“As soon as we entered the house, he went one way and I another. The room where I was taken had walls hung with silk. I sat down on a lounge piled with silk-covered pillows. There was incense burning in an iron pot. I waited just a couple of minutes, and then the lady of the house came in. She wore some kind of a dress made of the thinnest material. It was more exciting than seeing her completely naked. Her tits were covered with something sticky and a powder sprinkled on them. They poked through slits in her dress.”

“Please don’t—” Helga was appalled. He’d never been so explicit before.

“Shut up and listen! The woman was small, doll-like, and extremely beautiful. At first I was repulsed because she was an Oriental. I’ve never laid on a black-haired woman and had sworn not to, but I had paid the money and decided to stay and see what she could do. Good God! I’m glad I did. Guess what she did first, Helga?”

“She . . . took off your clothes?”

“She served tea. I don’t know what was in that tea, but after drinking two small cups and wondering what she had on her nipples, I began to swell. I asked her if the price included switching her bottom. She said the price included anything I wanted to do, but switching was rather an old-fashioned way of achieving what I wanted. She said that I was about to have an experience beyond my wildest dreams.

“Later, she took me to another room, undressed me, and pushed me down on a low couch. She liked what she saw, Helga. She ran her hands over me and little moans came from her small, red mouth. She nipped me with her teeth and filled her two small hands with my sex, pulling and squeezing until I got hard as I used to when I was sixteen.”

He paused to see how his story was affecting Helga.

“Justin, it isn’t necessary to tell me this—”

“I want you to hear it! You can learn something if you pay attention. I licked her titties clean. I don’t know what was on them. It was both sour and sweet. Almost right away, I felt as if I were floating off the couch. I was big and hard, but she shook her head when I tried to pull her down on top of me. I didn’t see how I could possibly get any bigger, but I did.

“She brought a basin of reddish brown liquid and rubbed it on my balls and pecker.” He grinned at the horrified expression on his wife’s face. “In a minute or two they began to feel warm, then hot. A while later I was up and prancing around the room like a horny stallion in a pen with a dozen mares in heat.”

Helga tried to block her mind to keep from hearing the description of the orgy that followed. She knew with a certainty that Justin was deranged or he’d not be telling her, his wife, about the unspeakable acts he and the woman had performed. She looked unseeingly into his eyes while he gloated. He had never felt so good in his entire life, he said, and speculated that he just might take the woman with him when he went back East.

“No. I’ll not stand for it!” Helga protested because she knew it was expected. Her eyes flicked to the flesh between his legs, and she was thankful to see that he was not sexually aroused. His lids drooped over his eyes and his mouth sagged. He looked old and tired.

“You’re getting brave, Helga,” he said, but the words didn’t have the cutting edge they usually did. “I’ll take the little doll with me if I want to, and you’ll not say a word. Now, get up. I need some sleep. I’m going back there tonight. God-amighty! I hate to think of what I’ve been missing out on all these years.” Helga got out of bed and went to the far side of the room to dress. “Don’t leave this room, Helga,” he said as he settled himself on the bed.

“I’ll have to go downstairs to get your trousers pressed. And I’ve got to eat.”

“Very well, but stay in the hotel.” He yawned, spread his legs, and scratched his crotch. “I think I’ll get a house here in Virginia City for the rest of the summer and let that little doll move in with me.”

Helga brushed her hair and piled it atop her head. She cast furtive glances at the man on the bed and breathed a sigh of relief when he began to snore. She waited until she was sure he was sleeping soundly before she picked up the trousers and quietly left the room.

CHAPTER

Seventeen

 

On her side with the covers drawn up to her ears, Katy stared into the darkness, unmindful of the noise drifting up from the street below, or the muffled voices and footsteps of hotel guests going to their rooms.

Time and again she asked herself the same question. How could she have fallen in love with a man like Garrick Rowe? He was an overbearing manipulator; yet her body had responded to his when he held her. She had wanted his mouth on hers; and when he kissed her, she felt as if she had taken leave of her body and was soaring above the clouds on a wave of sheer delight. Every nerve within her had vibrated with the pleasure that had flowed between them. She would never forget the feeling of acute abandonment when he left her.

The fairy tale Rowe had told her about their knowing each other in another life was beginning to make sense, Katy thought, realizing that she might be thinking with her heart rather than her head. She had gone willingly into his arms as if she had done it a thousand times. It had felt right and . . . wonderful. Could it be true that when a person died, the soul entered another body? And did souls such as hers and Rowe’s meet and meet again down through time that had no beginning or end?

Puzzling through that thought, Katy began to analyze her attraction to the big dark man. Aside from being good to look at, he had a quick mind, was gentle, yet extremely violent when threatened. Rowe was a man who had traveled the world, yet he took pleasure in simple things such as watching the honkers on the lake and showing her the beautiful waterfall. His body strength was massive, protective. When she was with him, she felt as if nothing in the world could harm her. She questioned herself as to why she felt cherished instead of irritated by his possessiveness, but could not come up with an answer.

Katy felt sure that Rowe would never leave this hard, cruel land for a long period of time. He was fascinated by the challenge of it. For the past several years she had thought of nothing but going back home to the warm South. She remembered the desperation of the past winter, the anxiety of having to find fuel to heat the cabin to keep them from freezing, and how hard it had been to stretch their food supplies to keep from starving to death. She wanted to spend the rest of her life in a real
town,
not some wide spot in the road like Trinity.

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier]
5.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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