Unknown: Sex in the wild wild west

It was a dark and stormy night…

That's a pretty trite way to begin a story, but it's true. The wind was howling like a son-of-a-bitch and the downpour outside was making life miserable for anyone foolish enough to venture out in it. I'd taken refuge in cheap dive down by the harbor where I could drink cheap beer and watch the whores. The whores had all given up on me, but they were fun to watch anyway, as they flashed their tits at the suckers, trying to lure them on. My last beer was about gone and I was wondering if I could con the bartender into running me a tab when Matt Gromley, a sometime acquaintance, was blown in out of the storm. Two other damn fools were with him, but they were so encased in slickers that I had no idea who they were. The three of them took a table in the back of the room and I heard Matt order a bottle.

Matt was about like me, never had enough money for more than a couple of beers, so I figured he must have found himself a real sucker. I was idly trying to decide if it would be worth my while to join them when Matt pulled a stool up beside me.

"Yo Nate. Still hanging around? That beer looks about dry, buy you another?"

I was more than a little taken aback. Matt almost never had any money, and when he did, he never bought drinks. I knew he would expect something in return, but I'd about decided that my chances with the bartender were nil, so I really didn't give a shit. I nodded my assent and a fresh beer appeared in front of me.

"Why don't you bring your beer and join us in back? We've got a fresh bottle," Matt said.

I knew damn well he had a fresh bottle, and my mouth was salivating at the thought of it. I still didn't know what he wanted, but for a crack at that bottle, I was willing to listen to anything.

When I got back there, Matt poured me a drink and then introduced me to his two companions. The first one he introduced as Colonel Broaddus. The Colonel was a tall, slim man, dark hair, silver at the temples. The second one was still bundled up in the slicker. When Matt introduced her as Mrs. Broaddus, I understood why. A woman, especially a married woman, had no business in that den of pimps, whores and cheap liquor. For the life of me, I couldn't understand what she was doing there. We had a couple of drinks and shared several stories, mostly about my adventures leading wagon trains across the plains, but she never said a word.

After about half an hour they left. I was still wondering what they wanted with me, but after I discovered that they'd left better than half the bottle I decided not to worry about it. I had a fine hangover when Matt woke me up the next morning.

"Nate, get your ass up and get presentable. The Colonel and Mrs. Broaddus want to see you."

"Wh-what the fuck are you talking about?"

"The Colonel and Mrs. Broaddus. You remember, those people I introduced you to last night. I think they want to offer you a job, so you better make yourself decent and get on down to the hotel."

"A job? What the fuck do you mean?" I hadn't had a job in so long I'd forgotten what it was like to have change in my pocket.

"Yeah, a job. They need someone to drive their wagons across the plains. I don't know that you're the best, but you're the best that's available. So get yourself together. I'll see you over at the hotel."

I couldn't believe it, a real job. I knocked the dust off of my shirt and had and hurried over to the hotel.

Matt was waiting in the lobby and took me into the dining room where the Colonel and Mrs. Broaddus were having breakfast. The way I felt, I damn near threw up at the sight of food, so it didn't bother me a bit when all they offered me was coffee. I really needed another drink to settle my stomach and clear my head, but I figured that could wait, at least until after the interview.

"Mr. Singletry," the Colonel began. That's me, Richard Nathaniel Singletry, but I go by Nate. I can't remember the last time somebody put "Mr." in front of my name. Son-of-a-bitch or asshole was more what I was used to. "My wife and I are leading a dedicated group of missionaries to convert the heathen Sioux."

That got my attention. If they really planned to take their bible thumping ways to the Sioux, the only thing they were likely to change would be their chances at a long life. I took a long look at both of them. Anybody that fucking crazy, deserved at least that. The Colonel was just as I remembered him – tall, thin, with a high sweeping forehead. His wife still hadn't said a word, but now that she wasn't covered up with the slicker, I could see her – at least part of her. She had a good face, strong but not too strong, soft lips and the kind of eyes that made me weak in the knees. Long blond hair hung down to her shoulders, but the rest of her was covered with a black dress, from her neck to her ankles. But even that dress couldn't hide the face that there was a good looking body underneath it. I just felt it was a shame she was going out west to commit suicide. Fortunately, it didn't have anything to do with me.

"Mr. Singletry, Mr. Gromley tells us you're the best wagon master in the business. Somehow I doubt that you're the best, but you are the best we've talked to. We'd like you to lead us to the heathen."

I'd been expecting this, and I was ready. "No Sir, I'm sorry, but I can't do that. When I lead a train I try to stay away from the Sioux. People that don't have a way of winding up dead. And from what you tell me, you don't just want to go across their land, you want to meet up with them. Take my advice. Go back to New York or wherever you came from and leave the Sioux alone. We'll all be happier for it."

I pushed my chair back and got up. "As for me, I'll be on my way. I've got some unfinished business I need to tend to."

Mrs. Broaddus spoke up for the first time. "Mr. Singletry, we're offering five dollars a day, plus meals."

That stopped me. I was used to a dollar a day and having to fend for myself for meals. "What would I be expected to do for this money, Mrs. Broaddus?"

"Just take care of our wagons and horses and lead us across the plains, Mr. Singletry. Mr. Gromley will be along as scout and handyman and the rest of the women will take care of the cooking and cleaning."

I knew what Matt was along for. The only thing he was handy with was a gun. "How many people are in this party?"

"Not counting you and Mr. Gromley, there's twelve of us. Four men and eight women."

I wasn't ready to admit it, but she'd gotten me when she mentioned $5. For that kind of money I'd of introduced them to Sitting Bull. And if the rest of the women looked anything like she did, I might just get lucky.

So it were fourteen of us altogether who made the trek out west to save the heathen Indians. Our leader, Colonel Broaddus, was a civil war vet and still liked to keep the title. I said he was our leader, but if the truth were known, his wife, Angela, made all the decisions. She led him around by the nose and the rest of us followed. I was never sure why the rest of them followed her, but I knew what my motives were. She paid me regular and I kept hoping against hope to get into her pants. If she hadn't been so damned straight laced, I'd of balled her in a second. But we were a month out of St. Louis. I'd given up on getting laid and was just hoping to get a smile out of her, but so far I hadn't even gotten that. I figured it was just one of God's practical jokes – all those good looks wasted on a frigid, domineering bitch like her.

Their daughter, Susan, had inherited her mothers good looks, but fortunately, not her attitudes, except when it came to sex. Like her dad, she was a Milquetoast. Whatever her mother said, that's what she did. I knew I was never going to get anywhere near her, but at least she smiled at me.