Rocky Raccoon Ch. 02

Rocky was no idiot. He'd seen the hands on the man, especially the thickened and sharpened fingernails. This man was a fighter, capable of blinding him at the first opportunity. His best plan was to keep him pissed so he didn't think.

Red charged again, and Rocky threw him in a move taught to him by his Sioux friends, kicking him in the thigh viciously as he went down. Another trick he'd learned. Take the legs out from under a man, make him move slow, and you were much more likely to win.

They fought up and down the clearing, both sides forgetting the other as they watched the battle. Rocky was knocked flat twice, but rebounded quickly, once throwing Red over his head with his legs when he charged, bounding up and landing another vicious kick to the other thigh. Red was moving a lot slower now, the ache in his thighs constant. He knew the small man would dart in and out until he wore him down and finished him. He had to get his hands on him, use his strength and height to his advantage.

His opening came when Rocky tripped on a rock, losing his balance. Red was on him instantly, grabbing him from behind and squeezing with one hand, getting the other in his mouth, in a vicious 'fishhook' move. He was surprised when Rocky turned his head as much as possible to relieve the pain, biting down as hard as he could. Red roared and tried to dislodge him, finally letting go, slinging Rocky. He hadn't let up on the pressure on his thumb, and took most of the meat with him as he tumbled. He spat it out and grinned. "You taste like shit."

Red rushed him again, favoring the wounded hand. Rocky side stepped, and landed a massive blow to his ear as he went past, just as his father taught him. Rocky was through being a gentleman now, and stood over him as he tried to get up, kicking him in the mouth, watching as three teeth fell in the dust. He went down again, and tried to get up, but Rocky put his boot in his back, shoving hard enough to make Red plow a five inch groove with his nose.

Red lay there, defeated, looking up at Rocky. "I'll kill you."

"That plan hasn't worked so good, now has it? You got your ass beat, now crawl up on that horse and go back across the river. We're done here."

He turned, walking back to his horse. Rocky was pretty sure one rib was cracked, and he had a small furrow on his shoulder from a slash of fingernails. He was sure he'd have a small shiner tomorrow, and his nose was scraped. Still, it was better than being dead.

He didn't hear it, but the shocked expression in the face of one of the vaqueros warned him. Red was charging as fast as he could, a Green River blade held low. Rocky jumped away as the blade sliced empty air, nailing him in the ear again. Red landed, out cold.

The vaqueros were angry now, muttering as they pointed their shotguns. One of the men held up his hands. "Hold on now. Your man won, fair and square. If you'll let us, we'll go on back across, and trouble you no more."

"This man needs a lesson. Strip him naked and tie him to his horse, facing the rear end. Don't do what I ask, and you'll all get the same treatment."

Something about the look in Rocky's eyes made them scramble to obey, until Red was face down on his animal, ass in the air.Rocky emptied a canteen on his head. Red sputtered awake, then screamed in rage when he realized his position. Rocky grabbed a handful of greasy hair and raised his head.

"You couldn't just take your lumps, could you? Know what I think? I think your pappy never took you in hand like he should have. Then again, you probably never knew exactly who your pappy was, did you. No matter. Maybe you'll think about this the next time you decide to knife a man in the back. The next one might not be as forgiving as I am."

Red paled when Rocky snapped the whip he was carrying, but refused to beg. Instead of using the lash Rocky doubled the strand and worked it over his ass and back until it was a crisscross of red welts. Red grunted and moaned, and tears flowed. When Rocky was done, he tossed the whip aside and raised his head again.

"You need to remember this lesson. If I ever see you again, here, in Texas, anywhere, I'm going to shoot first and ask your intentions later. You understand me?"

Red, his eyes full of hate, nodded.

He remembered that ride for the rest of his life, tied face down on his horse as they made their way across the river. More of the Don's men had showed up, and escorted them the whole way to the river, refusing to let them aid their leader. Red was almost out of his mind with pain from the flies and the sunburn by the time they crossed.

It took him a week to recover enough to sit in a chair, let along a saddle. He plotted, he fumed, but in the end, he simply moved, pulling up stakes and heading for Chicago. It would be many years before Red Bailey and Rocky McGill would cross paths again.

............................................

Don Carlos looked at Rocky as they rode back to the ranch house. "It appears you are a dangerous man to cross."

Rocky shrugged. "I'm just an average man. My father was a pugilist back in Ireland, and he trained with the best of the best. He not only taught me boxing, but all the dirty tricks one would encounter in a street fight. I've learned some from others in my travels. I do not actively seek out confrontations, but if I encounter one, I don't back down. Mr. Bailey is everything I hate in a man, a bully, a man who judges people because of race and color, always exploiting those weaker. He made a serious error in judgement today, and I'm sure if I hadn't been there you would have shown him. I chose to fight him because if it's one Anglo beating another there would cause little comment. However, if you had handled it, there may have been repercussions, and you do a lot of business across the river."

Don Carlos smiled. "Just so, my young friend. But rest assured, I am in debt for your service. I only hope we are associated long enough for me to repay you."

Rocky grinned back. "I, too, hope this is a lasting friendship. The cattle I'm buying from you will only be about a fifth of what I need, so I foresee at least four more trips down this way. It is my hope that you or your son will act as my agents, and have a herd gathered for me when I return."

Don Carlos looked thoughtful. "Perhaps we can come to some kind of accord. I feel this would be a good thing for my son. He loves the trail, and this would give him a chance to wander Mexico and Texas, seeking out the best. Maybe by the time you have what you need his wanderlust will be abated, and he will settle down."

They talked of inconsequential things as they watched yet another dust cloud on the horizon. This one turned out to be his son and daughter, along with about thirty of their men. When they got close enough to recognize each other they slowed to a walk.

Juan Carlos spoke, saying he heard there was trouble and he thought we required assistance. The Don grinned. "Oh, we met some Texans looking for stolen cattle. They decided after a little talk they were looking in the wrong direction, so they returned to their homes. I sent a delegation with them, to help look for their cattle and make sure they had a safe journey. It was nothing to trouble yourself over."

Juan Carlos said nothing, and was sure the vaqueros would tell him the whole tale. They were already telling their friends of their confrontation, and the antics of their crazy Anglo visitor. Maria rode quietly, straining her ears for details.

That evening, she coaxed Rocky to take a walk with her, her personal maid following at a discrete distance. "Our men have talked, my friend. It was a brave and generous thing you did for my father."

Rocky grinned in the semi-darkness. "It was a small thing, senorita. Rest assured, your father needs no help in handling his affairs."

"I know. But what you did made it easier for him to continue to do business across the river. My family is grateful, Mr. McGill, for your friendship and your keen understanding of the political situation. Rest assured, we always pay our debts. One day in the future, there will be some little thing we can do for you, and we will. You may not even know it happened, but we would. Now, let's enjoy this breeze." She took his arm, and they strolled in companionable silence.

The Don, sitting in the courtyard, watched them. There was a spark there, at least from his daughter, and from what he'd observed, the young man was a person of substance and honor, and considerable resources. He could think of worse matches.

............................................

Five days later, Maria took Rocky for a ride up a small canyon. She stopped about halfway, said a few words to her maid, and shared a hug. The young woman smiled at Maria and smirked at Rocky, then turned and rode away.

"Where's she going?" Rocky was curious, and knew in her society a young single woman was never to be left in the company of a young man, alone.

"She is muy in love with a vaquero from a ranch just a ways to the South. He happens to be here today, delivering some horses that will be part of your remuda. Consuella very much wants to see him. Young love, you understand? Bien."

There was a stream meandering through the canyon, and farther up they came to a clearing holding a broad pool, the result of a small waterfall. It was one of her favorite places.

They walked for a bit, ending up by the pool. Maria surprised him by sitting on a log and raising her foot. "Please?"

He tugged first one, then the other boot off, admiring her dainty feet. She surprised him even further by rolling her divided riding skirt up almost to her knees and waded a bit in the pool. She had very shapely legs.

He was shocked though, when she started unbuttoning her shirt. "What are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable, and making a point. Tex told us about the woman you're traveling to meet, and just in case things don't work out, I want you to know you have options. We would do very well together. You are a handsome man of means, and I am not uncomely, plus my dowry would be substantial."

Rocky looked up. Her thin camisole did nothing to hide her hard nipples. She laughed at his look and splashed him. Recovering, he scooped up a double handful of cold water and splashed her back. The water was cold, and landed on her chest, making the camisole almost transparent. Her full breasts were on instant display. Despite himself, Rocky got an erection. Maria saw it and blushed before grinning.

"It looks like someone needs to cool down. Join me in the pool, Rocky. The cold water will do much to return your reason."

Maria unbuttoned her skirt and let it fall, standing in her pantaloons, enjoying his look before diving into the pool. Rocky debated for about ten seconds before stripping down to his long johns and joining her. They spent a pleasant hour in the pool, playing. There were touches, brief but tantalizing. Her pantaloons were sheer enough wet to make out her dark bush, and despite the cold water Rocky got hard again. Once more, Maria caught it and grinned. "Well, at least part of you likes the idea of forming a union. Time to get out, we need to be dry when we return."

They lay side by side on a blanket, soaking up the warm sun. Maria held his hand the whole time. When they were dry, she rose up, and kissed him, soundly, for almost three minutes, before drawing back.

"What was that for?"

"That was because I like you. We Latins can be quite passionate. I want you to remember my taste on your lips, the shape of my body. If your Southern Belle doesn't meet expectations, I expect us to deepen our relationship on your next visit."

She put her fingers to his lips when he tried to speak. "Quiet. Don't say anything, just remember."

She pulled some combs out of her saddlebags and asked him to brush her hair. It was one of the most sensual things Rocky had ever experienced. Finished, she pinned it back into place, using the pool as a mirror.

They said little on the ride back, each lost in their thoughts.

Three days later, the cattle gathered, the vaqueros and cowboys hired, the herd moved out. Rocky gifted the Don with a new pistol, the best he could find. Juan Carlos got a knife, a work of art in steel, made by a famous cutler from Arkansas. Maria got a new set of combs, silver inlaid, ivory handled. She cried a little at the note. "Regardless of whether I come back, or if we never get together, I'll always remember the look and feel of you ebony tresses, shining in the sun. With admiration, Rocky."

They gave him suitable gifts as well. Maria gave him a stickpin for his tie, when he wore one, a small emerald on top.

They moved out at dawn, with Tex as ramrod. Rocky rode along through most of Texas, before leaving the herd and turning East.

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Rocky had decided to ride most of the way, to see the country. He hated the swamps and bayous of Louisiana, overrun with misquitos and snakes, or so it seemed to him. He enjoyed the towns, Shreveport and Baton Rouge, regretting he didn't have the time to visit New Orleans. Don Carlos had given him letters of introduction to a couple of his business contacts, and he enjoyed several good meals and some interesting conversations. It seemed cotton was the big thing there and in Alabama, providing the growing American population with cloth for all kinds of things. Rocky made a note to research the subject more thoroughly, when he had the time.

He rode into the little town he sought on an afternoon in late April, glad to escape the sweltering climates he'd been exposed to. It was near the mountains, and the air was refreshingly cool. Deciding to go straight to the general store her parents owned before he checked into a hotel, he rode up and dismounted. He took his duster off, beating his suit to make it more presentable. Two ladies and an older man were in buckboards out front, watching with curious expressions. Strangers were rare in this town.

They took in his tied down guns, wondering what sort of man he was. Rocky noticed, and noticed no one he had seen as he rode in were carrying weapons. Feeling a little naked, he unbuckled his belt, slipping it into a saddlebag.

He opened the door, and was greeted by a middle aged woman, obviously the owner's wife. "Good afternoon, stranger. Can I help you find something?"

Rocky removed his hat before speaking. "Yes ma'am. I'm Liam McGill, of the Wyoming Territory. I wrote your daughter Nancy a while back, and she agreed to let me come to meet her. Is she available?"

Mrs. Foster was shocked almost beyond words. She had read the letter, of course, but didn't believe in a million years someone would travel that far just to meet her daughter. She looked him over more closely, noting the lean build, the blond hair, and gray eyes. Eyes that seemed to look right through you. She hesitated, her daughter was a good girl mostly but sometimes taken to flights of fancy, and this man looked to be one that wouldn't put up with any foolishness. She slowly extended her hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McGill. I'm Laura Foster, Nancy's mother. I'm afraid both she and my husband are away on errands right this minute. If you'll give me an hour, perhaps we could meet you for lunch. The Ransome House has an excellent dining room."

Rocky grinned, turning on the charm. "That will be just fine, Mrs. Foster. It will give me time to check in, and freshen up a bit. In an hour, then? And please, call me Rocky. It's a nickname I could never shake, and I'm used to it now. Good day, Ma'am."

As soon as he was out the door Mrs. Foster ran to the storeroom, where Nancy was sorting stock. She deliberately lied to the man, to make sure Nancy was well turned out for the meeting. "Nancy! He's here! I just talked to him. We have a lunch date in less than an hour. Run home, get your best dress, fix yourself up, and get back here."

"Who's here, Momma?

"Your gentleman from Wyoming. A handsome lad, I must say. Now scoot!"

Nancy ran out the back door, her heart beating a mile a minute. He's really here! She redressed, did her hair in loose ringlets, put on just a touch of lavender scent, and walked sedately back to the store.

Rocky had checked in, and paid the staff extra to have his other suit pressed and boots shined. He shaved again, looked in the mirror and decided he was as presentable as he was going to get. Time to meet what could be his future wife.

He arrived a little early, and got a large table, telling the waitress he was expecting guests. She looked the handsome stranger over, wondering who in this burg was worth visiting. She was beyond surprised when Mr. and Mrs. Foster walked in, along with Nancy, and Rocky stood. Nancy wasn't well liked by the other young women of the town, her scandalous habit of flirting with all the men, including the married ones, wasn't very well received. The fact that with a select few it went well beyond flirting didn't help, and got her the reputation of being a tramp. All the men liked her, but none considered her marriage material.

Rocky knew none of this. He rose, shook hands with Mr. Foster, Mrs. Foster, and Nancy. She held his hand just a little to long to be proper.

"He's so handsome! And he has a big ranch!" Obviously a man of means, she had a vision of a large, well furnished house complete with servants, where she would live as a queen, dressing in the latest fashion, with frequent trips to exotic cities. All this danced through her head as she spoke demurely, keeping her eyes down mostly, looking up occasionally and fluttering her long lashes.

Rocky was smitten. The woman was well endowed, with wide hips (excellent for child bearing, he thought), and a very pretty face. She spoke well, though quietly, and seemed honest and forthright.

Her parents were taken by him as well. Their store, while giving them a living, was losing business. A bigger, better stocked emporium had opened the next town over, and he had lost a lot of business from the outlying farms. Mr. Foster secretly wondered how long he could hold on, and marrying his daughter off to a rich Yankee seemed like a Godsend. Besides, after two weeks, when he proposed and Nancy accepted, he asked them to come out for a visit after they had settled down. Perhaps there would be new opportunities in the Western wilderness.

They married, quietly, with just her family and a small group of friends.

..................................

Rocky grinned as he recited his vows. He was completely smitten by this woman. He loved the way she talked, how she moved, and that night, he loved her body. She explained to him that although she was a virgin, she had lost her hymen in a riding accident. She had actually lost it to one of the drummers that came through doing business with her father. They had gotten together for several visits, her appetite for sex growing by leaps and bounds, until one day he just stopped coming, and a new drummer arrived.

Nancy flirted, but the man waved his wedding band like a shield, and she stopped. She almost succumbed several times to locals, but knew if she did her reputation, already on shaky ground, would be in tatters.

She participated with vigor on their honeymoon night, getting three times out of him before they finally fell into exhausted sleep, only to start up again as soon as they woke. He loved playing with her full breasts and thick nipples, and she thought it would not be an unpleasant existence to hold his firm cock in her hands all day, except for when she needed to put it to use. She walked gingerly for a few days, as did Rocky. He seemed quite happy though, and showered her with affection.

Rocky left his horse with the Fosters, it was just a gelding from the remuda they'd built for the drive, and their horse looked like it has some age on it. They took a stagecoach to Atlanta, where they did a little shopping, mostly for her, and after a few days they boarded a train headed northwest. Rocky had a letter of introduction from the railroad he'd help build, and was upgraded to a better sleeper. They spent a few evenings with the railroad men who happened to be on the train, mostly about building opportunities in the West. Nancy was bored to tears, although she did like the preferential treatment.