Cheyenne Saturday - Empty-Grave Extended Edition by Richard Jessup

was a hell of a lot of woman.
    He jerked his head away and stared out over the sump. “You said you was thirsty. I could plug a hole in this pony's vein and get a little blood for you.”
    She didn't answer.
    “Then you ain't very thirsty,” he said.
    “I seen the way you looked at me then,” Liza Reeves said, her eyes flashing. “Don't get no ideas about me.”
    Ellis flushed. Then he grinned and stared brazenly at her half nudity. “Woman,” he said, “there ain't nothin' this side of hell that would keep me from takin' you if I wanted to.” 
    “You just try it and see, cowboy,” she said.
    “What you got against men?” Ellis asked thoughtfully.
    “Nothin'. I guess when I find me a man I'm goin' to have a henhouse full of kids.” 
    “But—” 
    “But hell! It's gotta be legal. And he's got to be a hell of a lot more man than I've seen around lately.” She sniffed and continued to massage her leg.
    “I could fill the bill,” Ellis said, his eyes searching the grass that showed no sign of the Cheyenne that he knew were out there somewhere.
    “What makes you think you'd do for me?” Liza snapped.
    “I know it—and you know it,” Ellis said confidently.
    Liza Reeves tossed her head. “God a'mighty! You're the last man on earth I'd give up to. I'd outshoot you—outhunt you—outrun you—”
    “And outtalk me, just like any other woman,” Ellis said with a grin. “You don't interest me, lady. And I'll tell you why. When I get me a woman, she ain't only got to wear dresses and act like she was a woman, but she's got to look at me like I was the one and only man in the world.” 
    “Whew! We sure doin' a lot of confessin' in this here wallow. But then, I guess it comes natural with a Texan who rides high on a horse and carries a Colt low.” 
    “I just like to wear my gun handy.” 
    “Too handy. It's killin'-handy.” 
    “Ain't no use talkin' about it any more,” Ellis said, somehow a little angry. “I just as soon nuzzle up to a she-bear as try and make shine with you.”
    Liza tossed her head. “I'd make you forget your ma, boy,” she said confidently. “I warn't raised with the Injuns with their free-lovin' ideas with my eyes closed.” 
    “Sure.” Ellis nodded. “I figured you'd know a lot—” 
    “And I ain't been touched, neither!” Liza said flatly. “I'm one hundred per cent woman and the man that gits me is gonna know it, too.” 
    An arrow whistled through the silence of the plains and narrowly missed the opening above the dead pony. The shaft buried itself deep in the animal's rump and quivered there.
    Ellis jerked up the carbine and dropped flat to the ground. A second arrow sailed through the air and landed short. A third found the opening, but by this time, Liza Reeves was down flat on the ground beside Ellis and the shaft dug its way into the rear of the cut harmlessly.
    “Watch where they're comin' from,” Ellis said squinting. “Try to figure out their position.” 
    Hugging the dead horse as closely as possible, Liza Reeves twisted around to find a view of her half of the opening, and, in doing so, had to press her belly, hips and thighs up against Ellis. The Texan gulped and grinned, looking down at her.
    “You just keep your mind on business, cowboy,” she said.
    Three arrows sang through the air; all of them were well aimed and landed in a six-inch circle just below the edge of the pony's back.
    “They clustered together straight out,” Liza said. “I seen all three of them comin'.” 
    “Same here,” Ellis replied. “We'll let them throw three more, then I got an idea.” 
    As if the Cheyenne had heard, three more shafts whistled over the sump, a little higher that the last three, missing the horse altogether and skimming over the top to bury deep in the rear wall of the cut.
    “Next volley, you let out a scream.”
    They waited.
    A single arrow, well aimed and moving so fast that they could hardly hear it, skimmed over the top of the