The Killing Blow (4 page)

“Yeah. Going up against a black bear is sort of a tough act to beat.”

Slowly, Allison's hand slid across Clint's knee until she gently brushed along his inner thigh. “Actually, I can think of a way to top it.”

“Yeah,” Clint said as he eased her back so he could roll on top of her. “Something just came to my mind as well.”

The warmth of Allison's body was more than enough to make up for the coldness of the ground beneath them. Early morning dew mixed with a hint of frost to put a chill into the banks of the river. Apparently, she wasn't feeling any of that chill either since she had Clint on top of her to heat her up.

Clint's hands were slowly exploring her body through the layers of her clothing until he could find a way to get beneath it. One of his hands managed to get under her skirts and find the smooth, shapely contour of her leg. The fingertips of his other hand were just beginning to slip under her blouse when he stopped.

“What's the matter?” she asked breathlessly, while midway through opening Clint's pants.

“Should we . . . wait?” he asked against every instinct in his entire body. “At least until we have a little more privacy?”

She smiled and leaned in closer. “You'll just have to be quiet enough for us to hear footsteps if anyone decides to pay us a visit.”

“And what about you?”

Giving him a quick grin, she replied, “I don't think I'll have any problem keeping quiet.”

“Is that so?”

Taking up the challenge implied in her expression, Clint swept her up in his arms and carried her over to a large tree at the edge of the lake. When he set her down, he could feel one of Allison's legs immediately wrap around him. That way, he was able to slip his hands easily under her skirts and feel the tight curve of her buttocks.

Allison leaned back and let out a breathy sigh. The sound was just loud enough to make her snap her eyes open and glance expectantly in the direction of the camp. When she looked back again, she found Clint smirking victoriously.

“They're still sleeping soundly,” she whispered. “Don't get too full of yourself.”

Since his pants were already mostly off, Clint took them down the rest of the way and then hiked the front of Allison's skirts up around her waist. The sides and back of her skirts still draped down, wrapping both of them up in soft material.

He could feel the warm dampness between her legs through the thin material of her panties. He could also feel her arms tighten around him expectantly as he pulled her panties aside and entered her.

Allison let out another breath while leaning back. She opened her legs and took all of him inside of her, savoring the way his cock grew harder as he began thrusting in and out. After one particularly strong thrust, the tree shook just enough to scatter the birds that had been in its branches.

With that, Allison got her legs beneath her and pushed Clint back. She smirked at the tortured look on his face and then turned her back to him while sliding her blouse off and dropping it to the ground. She shed every stitch of her clothes in the same fashion, leaving a trail that led right to the edge of the water. By the time she tested the water with one foot, Clint was naked and coming up behind her.

The water was cold at first, but just cold enough to make every inch of their skin sensitive to the touch. That way, when they found each other in the deeper water, the warmth from their bodies practically melted them together.

Clint once more wrapped his arms around her as they both stood with just their head and shoulders out of the water. One little hop was all it took for her to be wrapped around him. Under the water, Clint barely had to use any strength to keep her up.

Allison's body was strong and muscular, without losing a bit of her femininity. Her arms and legs held on to him tightly and her backside was smooth and firm in his hands. Pert breasts pressed against Clint's chest, with nipples so hard that he could feel them brushing against his skin. While he was savoring the feel of her body against him, Clint felt her hand reach between his legs and guide him once more into her.

This time, the feeling of entering her was like a jolt that ran all the way through his body. Whether it was the coldness of the water, or just the warmth of her skin didn't really matter. All that mattered just then was the two of them alone in that lake as if there were nothing and nobody else in the world.

Allison wriggled slowly as Clint pumped between her legs. He kept his hands on her buttocks so he could move her up and down in time to his own rhythm. She kept pace with him perfectly by grinding her hips back and forth.

As she felt her pleasure building, Allison let go with her arms and allowed her upper body to float back a ways from Clint. All the while, she kept her legs wrapped tightly around him.

Seeing her like that, with her hair spreading around her like a veil and her breasts breaking the surface of the water, made Clint want the moment to last for another couple of hours. Even another couple of days would have been fine.

Suddenly, Allison's eyes snapped open and her face took on an intense, almost desperate expression. She straightened up and wrapped her arms around Clint's neck as her muscles tightened around him. Her breathing was quick and frantic and she whispered urgent moans directly into Clint's ear.

He could feel her orgasm ripple through her much like he could feel the water rippling around him. While she was still trembling against him, Clint felt his own climax rush up onto him and overtake his entire body. For a moment, he thought he might let her go but the cold water kept him alert enough to stay on his feet.

One more pump into her pushed him over the edge and he exploded inside of her. After that, the quiet returned and the first light of dawn came with it.

Clint stepped back into the camp a few minutes after Allison returned. Joseph was just beginning to stir and Ordell was right where he'd been the last time Clint had checked. As if feeling the eyes on him, Ordell lifted his chin and set his eyes on Clint.

“You have a good swim?” Ordell asked.

Clint shrugged and said, “The water's a bit cold, but I got used to it.”

Ordell glanced over to Allison and then climbed to his feet. “I bet. You done with my rifle yet?”

“There's a bit more I can do, but I'll need a blacksmith to straighten the barrel properly. My part shouldn't take more than another few hours.”

“And there's a blacksmith in Westerlake.”

“Westerlake's right on the border of Oregon Territory,” Joseph said.

Ordell nodded and patted the boy's head as he walked toward the edge of camp. “You got that right. Since Clint needs a bit more time to fix up my rifle and Westerlake's not even half a day's ride from here, we can have ourselves a leisurely breakfast. Would you mind cooking, ma'am?”

“Not at all,” Allison replied cheerily. “I was just going to ask if there's something I could do to help.”

“That'd be it, ma'am. I've still got a bit of work to do in skinning that bear.”

Joseph's eyes became wide. “Can I watch?”

“Depends on what yer ma says.”

Reluctantly, Allison nodded. “I guess it's all right. That is, if Mr. Ordell doesn't mind.”

“Just see if you can keep up, boy,” Ordell said as he rolled up his sleeves and tramped into the woods.

Joseph practically tripped over himself to run in Ordell's wake.

By this time, Clint had situated himself in the same spot he'd used the previous night. Laying the rifle across his lap, he unrolled a bundle of burlap which held a small sampling of his gunsmithing tools. His hands moved as if they had a will of their own as Clint dismantled a section of the rifle's firing mechanism.

“Do you really know what you're doing with that?” Allison asked.

Clint nodded. “It's my profession to know.”

“You're a gunsmith?”

Laughing under his breath, Clint asked, “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”

“I don't know. The way you rode in when we were in trouble and how you handled yourself . . . none of it makes me think you're a gunsmith.”

“Well, I suppose I don't fix as many rifles as I used to.”

 
Having uncovered just as much of the bear's carcass as he needed, Ordell hunkered down over the animal and sawed at it with a knife that was almost as big as Joseph's arm. The boy watched from a distance with wide eyes and short breaths.

“Did you kill a lot of bears?” Joseph asked.

Ordell nodded and stripped away another section of the bear's hide. “More'n a few.”

“Did you ever get bit by one?”

Glancing over to the boy, Ordell pulled away the collar of his shirt far enough to reveal a patch of skin around his neck that looked more like gnarled leather. “A grizzly got ahold of me right there,” he said. “Clamped down so hard that I thought my whole head was gonna come clean off.”

“What did you do?”

“The first thing I did? Sounds funny now, but the first thing I did was punch that ol' bear right in the face.”

Joseph's head snapped back and then cocked to one side like a confused pup's. “Then what happened?”

“That ol' bear looked right back at me like he didn't know what to think. Then, he sniffed the air, rubbed his nose and said, ‘If you wanted me to let go, all you needed to do was ask.' ”

For a moment, Joseph scrunched his nose and kept staring blankly at Ordell. Then, a giggle worked its way through him, which nearly doubled the young boy over. When he was able to catch a breath, he said, “That didn't really happen!”

Laughing a bit himself, Ordell cut away the last strip of the bear's hide and started cleaning up all the remaining stubborn bits around the edges. “Maybe not exactly, but that bear did look awfully confused.”

“You really punched him?”

“I told you it sounded silly, but a man don't really know what to do in a situation like that the first time it happens.”

“So what really happened after that?”

“After that,” Ordell said reverently as he raised his bloodied knife and held it up for the boy to see, “I buried this right under his chin and twisted.”

Those words tore the smile right off of Joseph's face and left him with the blank, awe-inspired stare that had been there before.

“No man was meant to fight no bear,” Ordell said. “Just like no man was meant to outrun no horse. But we got the brains to make guns and trains to do them very things. Some might consider that a way of cheatin' the natural order of things, but it ain't.”

Lowering his voice, Ordell said, “When it's down to your life on the line or the life of someone you love, you do whatever you can to be the last one standing. That's the first lesson you need to know growin' up to be a man. If the cards are already stacked against ya, there ain't nothing wrong in doing anything at all to beat 'em.”

Joseph blinked and shook his head. “I don't like playing cards.”

Ordell blinked as well, but he seemed to be coming out of a trance rather than drifting into one. “Yeah. I guess that's more of a grown-up's game. Come over here.”

The boy was reluctant, but quickly worked up enough courage to stand behind Ordell.

After jabbing the blade into the dirt, Ordell reached down and lifted up the bear's huge, limp paw. He then pressed his foot down on top of the paw and retrieved his knife from the ground.

“You see them claws?”

Joseph leaned forward and nodded when he saw the long, curved claws protruding from the bear's paw.

“Indians use them claws like we use knives,” Ordell said as he delicately sliced around one of the claws with the tip of his blade. “They also wear 'em around their neck for good luck. It shows the spirits that they went up against the best that nature had to offer and lived to tell the tale.”

“Even when the cards were stacked?”

Ordell looked to the boy with genuine surprise. “That's right! Even when they're stacked against ya. And just 'cause you didn't strike the killing blow, that don't mean you didn't buck the odds. If'n anyone says different, just show 'em this.”

Joseph was just quick enough to catch what Ordell tossed to him. When he opened his hands, the boy found one of the bear's claws in his grasp. “Can I keep it?”

“That's why I threw it to ya.” As he stood up, Ordell pulled the bear's hide from the rest of the dirt that had been covering it and draped it over his shoulders. Even his large frame was stooped under all that dead weight. “Now head back to the camp and tell yer ma to get ready to leave.”

The four of them rode in single file along a broken path that led back to the main trail. Clint and Eclipse were at the front of the line. Allison and Joseph shared a horse in the middle, while Ordell brought up the rear. Some more of the wagon had been salvaged to build a sled to carry some supplies, but mostly it had been made to hold the enormous bear skin that was folded over the wooden slats.

Even though dragging that skin slowed them down a bit, the small caravan made it back to the trail before noon. Clint guessed they should catch first sight of Westerlake well before supper. Then again, after all the bear meat he'd eaten, he doubted he'd have much of an appetite.

The first portion of the ride was filled with almost constant chatter from Joseph as he recounted every last detail of Ordell skinning the bear. And when he reached the end of the story, he was more than happy to take a breath and go right back to the start.