way it was when I left.'
It was decorated in white and lavender. There were lace curtains and a bedspread to match. The furniture was heavy and very expensive.
'Nice bed,' he offered.
'It's very comfortable.' Martha walked over and sat down on her bed. When Longarm remained poised beside the door, she studied him for a moment, and then raised a finger and crooked it for him to come join her.
Longarm needed no further urging. Martha Noble was not the most beautiful woman he had ever seen or desired. She was pretty, but not classically beautiful. Her nose was a little too large, her lower jaw slightly undershot, and her figure less than perfect. But, after just twenty-four hours, he felt as if he had known her forever. She'd gone from being critical and naive to being sympathetic and understanding. Martha was not the same woman who had left Laramie on her way to confront the ghosts of her childhood in Cheyenne.
'Take me,' she pleaded, clutching him tightly. 'Smother me and make love to me as hard and as long as you can! Help me forget about last night.'
'I can't do that,' he said as he began to undress her. 'Not really, But I can sweep away your doubts and fears for a while and take your mind off the bad things of the past. I can fill you with love.'
'Then please do it. Only hurry!'
Longarm did not profess to understand women. He never had and he never would. Men who swore they understood the workings of the female mind were either fools or liars. All that Longarm was certain of was his ability to make love to a woman so that, when he had to leave her, she was happy and satisfied.
Martha practically tore her own clothes off, and as soon as Longarm had his boots and pants off she was wild with desire. 'Hurry!' she begged, reaching for his manhood. 'I want you in me now!'
He pulled her silken-haired thighs wide apart, and when he reached down to guide his throbbing manhood into her honeypot, Martha was wet and ready. He felt her fingernails dig into his muscular buttocks as he plunged his rod into her with a series of hard, quick thrusts.
'Yes!' she cried, throwing her head back and then rolling it from side to side. 'Oh, Custis, what would I have done without you up on that mountain?'
'You'd have survived,' he grunted as their bodies pounded at each other like waves crashing against rocks. 'You'd have survived!'
She found his mouth. Her tongue pushed between his teeth, and he could feel her body surging powerfully against his own. Spurred by her extraordinary passion, Longarm pinned her to the bed as his own body matched her intensity.
On and on they went, each lifting higher and higher. Finally, Martha threw back her head. A thin bead of perspiration covered her upper lip and her eyelids fluttered as she screamed, 'Oh... oh!'
Longarm understood. He felt his own control crumble like a dam in a flood as his manhood spewed its torrent into her eager body. And for a few moments, he too forgot about the train wreck, the death, and the carnage.
She would not let him go the rest of the afternoon. It was only when darkness fell on Cheyenne and his stomach was rumbling that she yielded to his plea for food and something to drink.
'I'll take you out to dinner,' he said. 'I doubt that there will be food in the house.'
'You're all the food I need.'
'I'm sorry,' he told her, 'but my stomach tells me that I need more than lovemaking.'
'Then your stomach lies,' she said with amusement.
'Besides, I can't stay here.'
Martha blinked. 'Why not?'
'Because you're trying to establish yourself in Cheyenne and it won't be easy. The last thing you want to do is to advertise a live-in lover. That will kill your chances with the respectable people of this town.'
'To hell with them.'
'No,' Longarm said, climbing out of her bed. 'You can't say that. You need their support, Martha. And you deserve their support. You came here to make some atonement for your father, and I'm not going to be a part of spoiling that.'
She laughed softly. 'Why, you're a real moralist! Who would have believed this conversation? Longarm, I'm offering you... everything. I want to marry you.'
It was his turn to laugh. 'Marry and keep me? Thanks, but no thanks.'
'I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Of course I wouldn't 'keep you.' I heard Mr. Ashmore offer you a job with the Bank of Wyoming. You could accept his offer.'
'He died in the wreck,' Longarm said quietly.
'Oh.' Martha cleared her throat. 'I'd forgotten. All right then, go to his bank and tell them what Mr. Ashmore offered you. Ask for the job and then we'll be married.'
'Just like that?'
'Not just like that!' Martha bounced out of bed without a stitch of clothing. She threw her arms around Longarm's neck and hugged him. 'Custis, more than anything, I want to be your wife. I want to marry my hero.'
Longarm disengaged himself. 'Martha, you're a beautiful young woman and you're going to marry again. And you're going to be more successful than your father. But we're not going to get married.'
'y not?'
