Longarm and the Missing Husband by Tabor Evans

none that the sutler would admit to—Longarm asked—and none that he could find elsewhere around the agency headquarters.
    Eventually he gave up and returned to the hotel. Carefully knocked before entering. Beth was already in bed.
    Longarm stripped down to his balbriggans and washed at the basin then stretched out on the floor with his lonely blanket.
    *   *   *
    The girl was slim with pale, pert breasts and tiny, dark-hued nipples. She had a waist no bigger than a minute and hips that flared nicely below that waist.
    Her pussy hair was dark and curly. Soft to the touch and lightly scented with powder or perfume.
    Her skin tasted of wood smoke and rose water. And her lips were sweet.
    She smiled at him and took those lips down, kissing and licking her way down his chest and his belly. Took his swollen cock into her mouth, deep and hot, pulling at him, taking him into her throat.
    Longarm cried out and pressed his face against the softness of her belly while she continued to suck him.
    *   *   *
    â€œMarshal Long. Wake up.” Strong fingers prodded his shoulder, shaking him awake.
    â€œWake up, Marshal. You were talking in your sleep, and . . . I couldn’t repeat the words you said. You were being quite lewd.”
    Longarm blinked and looked up from the floor to Bethlehem Bacon on the bed above him.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou were saying terrible things in your sleep. I will thank you to refrain from language like that, if you please.”
    Longarm scowled at the bitch and rolled over, turning his back to her. Dammit, he couldn’t get laid even in his dreams while she was around.

Chapter 45
    By the time the sun came up, Longarm had the animals saddled and the packs in place on the spare mule. He shook Beth out of bed, suspecting she would have stayed there half the day if he had not, and fed her a quick breakfast of jerky and canned peaches.
    â€œAre you ready?” he inquired when the peaches were gone. If he had been alone, he would have been a half hour up the trail by now.
    â€œWhy are you in such a rush?” she demanded. “You don’t even know where we are going.”
    â€œYou’re right. Where we’re going, I never been there. But it will be easy enough t’ figure out,” he said.
    â€œHow in the world are you going to do that?”
    â€œYour husband was here t’ survey for a railroad, wasn’t he? Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but those are mountains up ahead. Trains can’t climb mountains. They have t’ have easy grades. So from here, we just go where we think a railroad line might be possible. That’s the direction he likely would’ve gone.”
    â€œOh.”
    Little was stirring around the agency when Longarm led them out, riding his leggy mule and leading the other. Beth was mounted on the rather sluggish horse. Better, though, for the animal to be slow than to be so spirited that it could get away from her. Longarm figured he could handle pretty much any animal that he could strap a saddle on, but he was not so sure about Bethlehem.
    They passed through the Indian encampment and moved north, Longarm leading the way and choosing the easiest grade but always seeking to move higher.
    They nooned in a grove of cottonwoods above a thin trickle of snowmelt from far away and high above.
    â€œThis isn’t lookin’ very promising,” Longarm mentioned over a cup of coffee and a piece of stick bread.
    â€œBut Hank would have come this way?”
    â€œLikely,” he said. “There’s no way you an’ me can know that for certain, but I’m trying t’ pick the easiest rise. That’s what he would’ve had t’ do. He was thinking about rails and trains. He had t’ find easy slopes or a railroad wouldn’t be possible. Which, o’ course, is exactly what the railroad company needed t’ know.”
    Beth stood and