Patience

Chapter 7

Zach Slaughter moved the sun faded lace curtains aside knowing full well what lay beneath his second floor window: Front Street; clouds of dust hanging in the stifling air above the street; piles of horse shit, both dried or freshly steaming; an obstacle course for the men and women crossing from one side to the other; an assortment of tired looking wagons; horses with ribs protruding under a dull coat of fur.

He wondered how these people so far below him would respond if they knew he considered them comical yokels in their big wide brimmed hats and heavy close spun home made clothing. They were as drab and lifeless as most of the other poor excuses for humanity he'd met in his life.

Another disappointment concerning this scab of a town bothered him. He'd heard its' reputation and wanted to hear the sound of bullets leaving the gun and entering the soft tissue of a body, wanted to see the lifeless lumps lying in the street, blood mingled with horse shit. Three hours and he'd not even caught the escalation of voices in argument.

He felt cheated with the silence and the overhanging threat of lawfulness.

Out of view but within smelling distance when the hot wind blew just right, was Moss Grimmick's Livery Stable. He'd passed it on his way from the train depot to the Dodge House. Hip roofed, two wide open doors, and a large coral with a surrounding fence of desiccated two by sixes, it wasn't much to look at but it could hold that uppity black filly previously owned by that spoiled white-suited dandy who deserved exactly what he got from the little red headed cheat.

He wished with every fiber of his body that the horse was there. Then this town might be worth the space it occupied.

He was, in truth, getting tired of the chase. Two months was a long time to be in pursuit of this slippery young woman. He'd almost had her once but her youth and the speed that came with it served her well as she eluded his grasp by just the barest amount of time. That only left him all the more frustrated and eager for the final event.

If she were here…….

The young auburn haired girl in Springfield cost him a good penny. Her madam was saving the child from heavy use but his sweet talk and the extraction of gold coin convinced the fleshy matron to let him have the girl for the night. But all that effort went for naught. Age, in this case, bore absolutely no relation to experience.

That's why he liked them young. He could break them in to his specific likes. This one, he couldn't recall her name now, was more than willing to earn her madam's dollar plus the extra bit for herself for the special touches. She knew way too much.

Fear. Naivety. Inexperience.

He should have known better than to expect that in a brothel but he had the need and knowingly bypassed the time it took to scout out a fresh one.

He lost his patience with her, only hit her three or four times before she finally understood just exactly what it was he wanted.

Good bitch after that. Didn't scream. Just let him get his fill of her.

It wasn't her fault. Really. She could never be Kate.

Kate.

He'd never had a woman consume his thoughts so completely until she came along. But then he'd always had the women, savored the intricacies of their bodies, tasted their fear, forgot them after, and gone on to new pursuits.

And there lay his problem: he'd never had the time to consummate his relationship with her.

Only in the peacefulness of his dreams did she came to him willingly, submit to his every desire. He took his fill of her in a way he'd never done with any other woman in his entire life.

He forced his mind back to the reality of the situation, back to this small, sparsely furnished room overlooking Front Street in the town of Dodge City, on a flat piece of dirt somewhere west of civilization.

And the fact that Kate would never come willingly.

Patience.

Stick to the plan.

Dinner. Check out the livery.

And if the horse were there, he'd settle in for a pleasant evening of observation at the Lady Gay.

He anticipated the anticipation.

He put on his smart bowler hat and admired the way his finely tailored clothing, reflected in the full-length mirror, lay flat against his body. Miss Kate should be thrilled to have the attention of such a handsome figure of a man.

His thoughts clouded, turned dark as an approaching storm.

Revenge would be sweet when he finally got his hands all over her body. She'd learn then what a good man he was.