Blood Wedding

He turned the horse’s head to the right. Might as well try in that direction first, he thought. The trees grew close to the water in places, and there might be some sign of her passing. If there wasn’t, he’d go back and try the other way.

After he’d gone a couple of hundred yards down the narrow, winding waterway, the banks grew steeper on either side of him, and the trees grew more thickly. It wouldn’t have been easy to ride a horse up the muddy banks, and Fargo was beginning to think it was time to turn around and go back the other way. But then he saw up ahead of him a cut in the bank, begun when water from some heavy rain in the past had found a crack in the earth and rushed into the creek, leaving a track for water to flow through later.

Fargo rode up to the cut and saw the tracks of Angel’s horse leading up the bank. He turned the Ovaro’s head and followed the tracks.

He didn’t have far to go.

In the trees a few yards ahead, Angel was waiting for him.

12

Her horse’s reins were tied to a tree limb, and Angel stood there, her hands on her hips. She was wearing only her shirt, and it hung down just far enough to cover the part of her body that Fargo automatically looked for. Her legs were slim and white, tapering to trim ankles. The sunlight fell through the leaves and dappled her dark hair.

“I thought maybe I’d lost you,” she said.

“That’s not as easy to do as you think,” Fargo told her, halting the Ovaro. “Aren’t you afraid you might get the grippe, dressed like that?”

Angel gave him a languorous smile and said, “You mean undressed, don’t you?”

“I guess I do.”

“The weather’s still warm. I don’t think I’ll get sick. Why don’t you get down off that horse so we can talk. I don’t like looking up at you. It hurts my neck.”

Fargo slid off the Ovaro, led it over to a nearby tree, and looped the reins over a branch.

“I knew you’d follow me,” Angel said. “So I thought I’d come somewhere we could have a little privacy.”

Fargo looked around. They were in a little clearing in the trees, with the only real opening being the narrow cut that he’d just ridden out of. He could hear some birds in the trees, and a squirrel chattered away somewhere nearby. But there was nothing else to hear, not even the sluggish flow of the creek. Fargo didn’t think there was much danger that anyone would find them there.

“You picked a good spot,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

For an answer Angel started to unbutton the shirt. She took her time about it, letting Fargo wonder a while about what he was going to see, but eventually she got it done. The shirt hung loosely on her, but she’d been careful not to let it gape open. Fargo could still see no more than he’d seen when he first arrived.

Angel smiled. “You remember what I said when you asked me if I was ready?”

Fargo nodded. “You said you were always ready.”

“That’s right, and now you’re about to find out just how ready I am.”

She took both hands and opened the shirt, holding it wide.

Fargo saw that her breasts were even bigger than he’d thought, standing high and proud, with their erect nipples pointing straight at him like bullets. Her waist was small enough for him to circle with his two hands and emphasized the curve of her hips. The crisp hair on her mound was as black as the hair on her head, and it was thickly tangled. The puckered red wound in her shoulder didn’t detract from her beauty at all.

“The question is,” Angel said, “are you ready, Fargo?”

“I’m as ready as anybody ever was,” Fargo said, which was the truth if he’d ever told it.

Angel let the shirt fall to the ground and walked to where a nearby tree shaded a pile of leaves that Fargo thought she must have gathered there while waiting for him to catch up with her. She lay down on the leaves, careful not to hurt her shoulder, and let his eyes take her in. As he watched, she spread her legs and let her fingers play with her dense pubic hair for a moment before allowing her middle finger to slip into the enticing crack between her legs. She let the finger remain motionless for a second or two before rubbing herself lightly. Her hips wiggled, her lips parted, and she moaned deep in her throat, letting her finger slip inside herself.

“What the hell are you waiting for, Fargo?” she said huskily after a moment had passed. “I don’t want to have to do this all by myself.”

Fargo didn’t want her to have to, but it occurred to him that she might have led him into some kind of trap. He didn’t see how that could be, though. She didn’t have a gun unless she’d found one hidden in the trees, which seemed highly doubtful. And there was no one else within miles as far as Fargo could tell. Just the birds and squirrel, and not even the squirrel was silent. Fargo shucked his clothes off as quickly as he could and joined her on the leaves.