Longarm and the Missing Husband by Tabor Evans Read Free Book Online

were so close.”
    Despite the circumstances, he could not help noticing that she was wearing only the thin nightshirt. He could see the unusually small bumps in the cloth where her nipples protruded. And he could imagine the other sweet delights hidden beneath that cloth. Bethlehem Bacon was an exceptionally pretty young woman.
    Beyond mere appearance, though, there was something powerfully seductive about her, as if she secreted some odor, a natural perfume, that made a man want to possess her.
    Hank Bacon was one lucky son of a bitch, Longarm thought. And one very foolish man to accept work that took him away from Beth’s side.
    Had she belonged to Longarm, he would have wanted to be in her bed every night. He would have wanted to fuck her every night. He wanted her now.
    But she belonged to Bacon, the lucky bastard.
    â€œI’ll, uh, I’ll be right here if you need me,” Longarm said, backing out of Beth’s room and into his own.
    It was some time before Longarm was able to sleep again. His dick kept reminding him of its presence. And of Beth’s, so close on the other side of the canvas wall.
    Sometime during a restless night he came bolt upright on his cot, eyes wide and mouth agape.
    The dagger, he thought, remembering every detail of its appearance now.
    Every man he knew carried a knife. But a pocket knife, not a curved dagger like this man had in his hand.
    And that hand with the dagger in it had been poised over Beth.
    The son of a bitch already had her poke. There was no further need for him to be there. By all rights he should have slunk away into the night the moment he had that coin purse in hand, yet he had not done it. He was still there, poised as if to strike, when Longarm burst in on him.
    The bastard had meant to kill her.
    But why? Longarm chewed on that for some time before he got back to sleep again. There seemed no good reason that he could think of unless . . . unless the man was there to kill and the coin purse was only secondary. A bonus for a killer.
    Longarm regretted now that he had not shot the son of a bitch. It was with that in mind that he finally drifted into a fitful sleep.

Chapter 22
    Longarm woke up early, not fully rested but ready to face another day. He could hear Beth’s slow, steady breathing from the other side of the canvas as she slept. He did not want to wake her so he dressed then sat on the edge of the cot, smoking an occasional cheroot, until he heard Beth begin to stir.
    â€œGood mornin’,” he said, keeping his voice low so he would not disturb anyone else.
    â€œGood morning, Marshal. I’ll be ready in just a minute. Can you wait for me?”
    He smiled at that. Beth did not know it but he had been waiting for her for more than an hour already. “Yes, I can wait,” he said.
    He heard some scuffling and a few grunts from the other side of the wall, then Beth pulled back the partition and stepped into his room. She was grinning. It took him a moment to see why.
    She was wearing her dress, as expected. But beneath it she was also wearing the trousers, men’s trousers, that she had purchased the day before.
    â€œWe shall have to ride astride, I am sure,” she said, smiling. “And I won’t want to show my limbs. So . . .”
    â€œVery effective,” Longarm admitted.
    â€œCan we go to breakfast now?” she asked. “I am awfully hungry.”
    â€œSure. Let’s go.” He picked up his carpetbag and held aside the sheet of canvas that served as a door, motioning her ahead of him.
    It was already past daybreak, and they had their choice of cafés that were open for business. Beth chose one, not too crowded, and they shared a long table with several gents.
    When they were done, Beth insisted on paying for both meals. “You have been paying for everything. It’s about time I pull my own weight,” she said.
    Longarm felt a little uncomfortable about Beth