Miss Shaw had changed her blue frock for a silvery gown complete with a small hat featuring a feather and a veil. The material was light and clingy, and Longarm found occasion, on the walk to the hotel, to drop slightly behind her and admire the motion of her hips.
He took her to a downtown restaurant, one of Denver’s finest. It was but a short pleasant walk in the evening air and they arrived while it was still light. Normally, Longarm didn’t eat in such expensive places, but he thought that with time being as short as it was, he’d better put on the dog if he was to impress the young Miss Shaw. They got a table and while he ordered a steak, she went in for the mountain trout and a rash of vegetables.
Longarm did not know a great deal about her career with the tent evangelist, and during dinner, he tried to draw her out on the subject. All he met with was blushes and reluctance to discuss either the tent evangelist or his work. Longarm couldn’t even find out if the man represented any known denomination. The best he could gather was that he was supposed to have been some kind of faith healer who sold liniment after the show or the performance or the service, whatever it was called. Miss Shaw did admit to being one of his twelve so-called handmaidens. He didn’t know what that meant in evangelist talk, but he had a pretty good idea what it meant in men’s talk. It made his spirits rise. He determined that in spite of the extravagant bill at the restaurant, the evening might well prove worth it.
They ended up back in Miss Shaw’s rooms. By rooms, the boardinghouse meant a bedroom and a very small sitting area. Miss Shaw brewed some coffee in a big kettle on a small gas ring. Longarm would have preferred a quick shot of whiskey out of a bottle, but since Miss Shaw offered none, he didn’t ask.
While they waited for the coffee to brew, Longarm probed gently at Miss Shaw’s former occupation, hoping to find some clue as to her vulnerability. She had joined up with the evangelist or faith healer or liniment salesman— whatever he was—in Shreveport which was a big town near the Texas border in northern Louisiana. She admitted with a shy smile and a becoming blush to having been swept away by the gentleman’s persuasiveness and enthusiasm. His name, it turned out, was Mr. Stafford. She was impressed that he took up no collection during the service and only tried to make ends meet through the sale of his wonderous liniment he sold after the meeting. The liniment was guaranteed to cure all forms of rheumatism, sore joints, aches and pains, and was even said—if taken internally in small doses—to be good for female ailments. She had blushed even deeper at the last. To Longarm, it had sounded like another snake oil sales job and made him even more interested in the delectable Miss Shaw.
Finally, the coffee was made and they sat drinking it out of cups and saucers a little too delicate for Longarm’s big hands and hard fingers. Miss Shaw occupied the middle of a small settee and Longarm made himself as comfortable as he could in a straight-backed, velvet-covered sitting chair. There was a small table between them that served as a place for him to set the saucer rather than trying to juggle it along with the cup. He finished his coffee with some haste and waited patiently while Miss Shaw daintily sipped to the last of her cup. When she finally set her cup and saucer down, she looked up at him expectantly and said, “Would you care for more coffee, Marshal Long?”
Longarm shook his head, wondering what was to come next. He said, “No, ma’am. I don’t reckon.”
She suddenly stood up and took the step or two that lay between them. She said, her face going calm, “I’m ready now.”
Longarm looked up at her, slightly startled. He said, “What? Ready for what?”
She said, “Why, for you to have the use of me.”
Longarm swallowed, feeling his throat suddenly becoming swollen. He said, “Use of you?”
She nodded. She said, “Before we went to eat, I bathed real careful and washed all my parts, clean, and for the past four hours I’ve been thinking clean thoughts. Like you’d want.”
Longarm swallowed again. A fever was starting to rise to his brain. He didn’t know his part. He didn’t know what to do or say. This woman was directing him, but she wasn’t doing a very good job at it. He said, “Miss Betty Shaw, what do we do next?”
She looked perplexed as if she was dealing with a backward student. She said, “Why, you’ve got to take these clothes off me. I’m not supposed to do it.”
Longarm stood up slowly. He said, “Well, yes. That would be the way of it, wouldn’t it? But I don’t see an opening on that dress.”
She turned around, presenting him with her back. A row of buttons ran from the top of her dress down to the hem.
She said, “Well, you’ll have to undo the buttons, won’t you?”
With unsteady fingers, Longarm started on the first button. He said, “Well, yes, ma’am. I reckon I will.”
Chapter 2
In the glow of the kerosene lamps, her skin shone like lightly gilded satin. Naked, she seemed much smaller, but her parts were as wonderfully placed and put together as he could have wanted. Her breasts were not large, but they were thrusting and wonderfully shaped and tipped with rouge-colored berries. The thatch that ended where her legs formed was golden and silken. She stood there, shivering slightly, even in the warmth of the room. Her clothes were piled around her on the floor. Longarm stood there, looking at her, admiring her beauty. After a moment, he put out his hand and turned her around slowly, admiring her rounded buttocks and her straight, shapely legs.
He leaned down and kissed her softly on the neck as he ran his hands all over her body. She was very still, her breathing steady. He wondered at her composure. She did not seem the slightest bit excited. Her calmness was perplexing him. He said into her ear, “What do we do now, Betty?”
Looking straight ahead, she said, “Aren’t you supposed to take me into the bed? Isn’t that how you make the best use of me?”
Longarm said, “Don’t you want to go to the bed?”
“I just want to please you. I’m a virgin again for you. I will be whatever you want me to be.”
Longarm was perplexed. It was almost as if the woman were in a trance. He guessed that it had something to do with her days with Mr. Stafford. It was the only thing he could figure, but he was damned if he would take advantage of a woman who was in a daze. He didn’t know if she was really a virgin—for all he knew, she might well be. But it was not his style to take advantage of a situation where one party wasn’t quite in their right mind. But then, neither was it his policy to pass up a piece of pie when it came his way.
He said, “Well, let’s go into the bedroom and see what happens.”
