Longarm #396 : Longarm and the Castle of the Damned (9781101545249) by Tabor Evans Page B

the lady of the house and added his thanks to her too.
    Ophelia Birdwell sniffed—he suspected that expressed the woman’s attitude toward many things in her life—and nodded acceptance of his gratitude. Lordy, he could not imagine . . . He shook his head to clear away that sort of thinking. Shit, the mere thought of fucking Ophelia could put a man off sex for weeks. Months, maybe.
    â€œPlease to excuse me, folks.” Longarm turned and left, by the front door this time.
    Feeling considerably better than when he’d walked into the yard, he ambled over to a corral where half a dozen hands were saddling their mounts in anticipation of the day’s work. These boys had it easy. It was already full daylight and they were just now getting started. A good many outfits had their hands riding out in darkness. Getting back after dark too, some of them.
    â€œHello, mister,” one of the men said as he pulled on the cinch of a short coupled horse the color of mustard. “Where’d you come from?”
    Longarm ignored the question and asked one of his own. “Which one of you is Moore? The boss sent me to find him.”
    The cowhand shot his jaw in the direction of a gangly, balding man with a scraggly mustache and legs that were bowed so wide a calf could likely run through them without touching on either side. “That’s Jess.”
    â€œThanks.” Longarm went over to the ranch foreman and introduced himself.
    Moore appeared to be skeptical about turning one of his horses over to a stranger, so Longarm explained his mission, but only mentioned losing the livery horse. He did not explain how.
    â€œAll right. If the boss says so.” He turned his head and shouted, “Lafferty. Rope out that gray that Petey rode yesterday. This gentleman is gonna take it to get back to town. Put a bridle on it but no saddle.”
    The man named Petey nodded, tied his horse to a fence post, and went back into the corral.
    Moore looked back to Longarm and said, “Did you find out what you need to know about Netty?”
    â€œNo, not really. Mrs. Birdwell just said she was fired for cause. She didn’t say what cause.”
    Moore chuckled. “I’ll just damn well bet you she didn’t.”
    â€œSounds like there’s a tale that I should be knowin’ about this,” Longarm said.
    â€œYeah, but it ain’t one that you’ll hear spoken about inside that house,” Moore said with a nod toward his employer’s handsome home.
    â€œAnd that tale would be . . . ?”
    â€œNetty is no spring chicken, but she’s a handsome woman, no doubt about it.” He laughed. “The boss, he thought so too. He got to tapping some of that. Getting it right regular, I guess, until the battle-axe walked in on the two of them one evening when she was supposed to be asleep in bed. The way I hear it, she woke up and was thirsty, so she went downstairs to tell Netty to fix her tea and a snack. She went into Netty’s room off the kitchen there, and what does she see but Jim Birdwell’s hairy ass humping up and down and Netty underneath him squeaking and squealing like she always done.” Moore’s grin got wider. “That was the last of Netty on this place. Damn near the end of Jim too. I’ll bet he hasn’t had a piece of ass since Netty got thrown off the place.”
    Longarm chuckled and said, “It sounds like you know something about how Netty acts when someone is in the saddle with her.”
    Moore shrugged. “She’s a good woman. Don’t mistake that, Marshal. It’s just that she likes men. Likes to please. And she isn’t selling it. It’s more like with her it’s, um, a friendly thing, I suppose you could say.”
    â€œAny idea where I could find her now?” Longarm asked.
    â€œOh, hell yes.” He laughed. “Soon as Coon Morgan heard she was available, he hired Netty to cook for him and his