Rogue Preacher

Sunset Carson is a gun-totin’, fire and brimstone preacher who carries a Bible in one hand and a load of miracles in the other. He’s not the usual mild-mannered reverend. He’s a double-fisted shooter who stands tall in the pulpit. But, later, when no one is watching, this man of God surrenders to a dark and dreadful sin. A sin that surfaces in the shadows behind his tent.

When his wife is killed, the preacher goes looking for the face that is burned into his memory. One night, while in a saloon drinking, he finds himself face-to-face with a cowboy who makes him burn with lust. An invitation into the man’s bed leads to an affair, but the familiarity of this man’s face haunts him. Where has he seen it before? Was it behind his tent one dark and sinful night, or was it behind a smoking gun?

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 37,080 words

ROGUE PREACHER

Kelly Conrad

MENAGE AND MORE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Ménage and More

ROGUE PREACHER

Copyright © 2011 by Kelly Conrad

E-book ISBN: 1-61034-328-X

First E-book Publication: March 2011

Cover design by Jinger Heaston

All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

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This is Kelly Conrad’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Conrad’s right to earn a living from her work.

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DEDICATION

I’d like to dedicate Rogue Preacher to Tim Mauch, a preacher friend of mine. When I told him about it, he told me he might be interested in reading it. I tried to discourage him by warning him about its steamy contents, but he said he would be the judge of that.

All right, Tim, here it is. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Kelly

ROGUE PREACHER

KELLY CONRAD

Copyright © 2011

Prologue

“Sin, sin, sin! You’re all sinners, and you’ll burn in hell! A burnin’, scaldin’, everlastin’ fiery hell, created by God for sinners, unless you repent!”

Sweat crept down his rugged face as he looked around, his sharp eyes glaring into every dark corner and into every face.

“The Devil’s in this tent tonight!” he hissed. “He’s sittin’ beside you now, tellin’ you it’s all lies. He’s makin’ you thirsty for that devil whiskey or hungry for that painted up hussy!”

With a sudden movement, he tore his frock coat from off his back and stood there looking like a mad gunslinger. After rolling the arms of his shirt up as if he meant business, he threw his pulpit aside and stood threateningly on the edge of the platform, his hands clenched in fists.

“I ain’t afraid of you, Devil!” he shouted, his thick, unruly hair shaking as he shifted his fiery gaze to every part of the tent. “I’m here to whip you for God! I’m here to show these people the way to salvation, and you won’t get in my way!”

He could feel God’s power upon him and made a shocking move that had all the drama of a real hellfire-and-brimstone preacher. With one swift movement, he suddenly lifted his Bible in the air and threw it into the aisle at the sinners’ feet. “I give you God’s word! There it is, step on it, defile it, tear it to shreds, because that’s exactly what you’re doin’ if you ain’t livin’ by it!”

Suddenly a shout came from the back of the tent. “Oh, God, preacher, save me!”

Sunset Carson looked toward the voice and saw a man jump up from his seat, run into the aisle, and fall to his knees. He quickly jumped down from the platform and ran to him. “Dear friends,” he called out to his congregation, “pray for this lost lamb who’s askin’ for help.” He looked down at him. “Tell me, brother, are you a sinner?”

“Yes! I need to be saved. Save me, preacher!”

Sunset reached out and laid his hand on the man’s head, and then looked heavenward as if he could see past the dark shadows of the tent’s ceiling. “God!” he shouted out. “Do you hear me, God? Here’s one of your lost lambs. He’s cryin’ out for you to save him. He’s no better or no worse than the rest of us here, but he needs you. Save him, God, save him and wash the dirty sin out of his soul now!” Sunset looked down at the man. “Do you believe, brother? Do you believe Jesus can save your soul from hell?”

“Yes,” the man said in desperation. “I believe, preacher. I do believe!”

“Then open up your heart, sinner, and let Jesus into your heart and soul!”

“I do, preacher, I do! My heart is wide open!”

Right after his confession of faith, the man became so excited he looked up into the heavens and howled like a wolf. When he fell down on the ground and began shaking like a man possessed, sounds of sobbing and gasps filled the tent. Sunset immediately whirled around and lifted a hand toward the choir, indicating to them to begin singing. He then ran up the aisle, jumped up on the platform, turned, and dramatically lifted up his hands to his congregation.

“Now is the time, dear sinner! Not a second to waste. Jesus is callin’ you!” He pointed toward the Bible that still lay in the aisle. “See that Bible? That’s the Holy Word straight from heaven! You can choose to accept it or turn away from it, but I urge you to come to Jesus now. Tonight! And all you black-hearted sinners out there, listen to me. If the devil’s got you believin’ his lies and you turn away from Jesus, you might as well kick it, or spit on it, because if you walk out of this tent tonight without Jesus, you’ll be walkin’ out hand in hand with the Devil!”

With his arms still raised, he lifted his eyes toward heaven and began to cry. With sobs in his throat, he cried out, “Here they are, God! They’re your children. I’ve done all I can do. I’ve brought them to you, God. Now save them! Save them and put them on the path to righteousness!”

Almost as if a dam had burst, the people immediately jumped out of their seats and streamed up the aisle. Sunset boldly jumped down and met each one with a prayer for their salvation and laid hands on those who needed healing, urging everyone to believe for a miracle. It didn’t surprise any of them to see this fire-and-brimstone preacher perform one miracle after the other. By the time it was over, many were lying in the aisles, slain in the spirit, while the Bible still lay there, its pages turned to a warning about false prophets.

* * * *

Sunset Carson didn’t do anything small. His hellfire-and-damnation sermons were wild, his actions broad and strong. He didn’t stay still. He paced from one end of the platform to the other, raising his hands and talking to God during his sermons. His booming voice carried up and down the streets of the town, drawing people into the tent to see his wild performance. The tent was filled every night with every kind of sinner imaginable. As a frontier preacher, he met opposition so much, he stood beside his pulpit looking more like a gunslinger than a preacher. He wore a black frock coat, pushed the legs of his pants down in his boots, and wrapped two gun belts around himself, one for a right-handed draw on one side, and the second for a left-handed draw on the other. He was a two-fisted preacher, and a two-fisted gun. His thick, wavy hair drug his collar, and when he became excited, it would fall over his forehead in disarray while he ordered Satan out and invited Jesus in.

He wasn’t like most of the mild, gentle, forgiving frontier preachers. He was tough. When he preached, his voice bellowed out, and many times he was tested by those who thought he was nothing but show. Believing he had the Lord on his side, he pulled out his weapons and demonstrated his faith at the point of a gun. He towered over every man there, and any troublemakers who were smart enough backed away, deciding not to go against this preacher and his God.

Tonight he’d fucked his wife, but it was more for her than him. His interests lay in other areas, but she never knew. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his wife. He did, but something had been missing in their relationship for a long time. He blamed Satan. The dirty-mouthed demon had come in and planted a parade of disgusting pictures in this preacher’s mind and spewed his dirt into the preacher’s ear, filling him with desires the preacher knew were a sin. It was there all through his courtship, his wedding, and now, his marriage. It tugged at him constantly, becoming so much a part of him that one night after his sermon, he surrendered to temptation.

Now, with the donations safely in his pocket and his wife asleep, he furtively slipped out of the tent and met a cowboy who stood waiting for him in the shadows. Looking at the young, well-built cowboy, he felt the heat of ugly lust rising in him, and his breathing became heavy. He quickly took a step or two in his direction, grabbed him, and covered his lips with a hungry kiss. The hunger in both of them was unbridled and growing as each of them feverishly undressed the other. Finally, the two lowered themselves toward the ground, where Sunset pushed the cowboy over a trunk, hurriedly opened the cheeks of his ass, and pressed his cock against the cowboy’s opening and rubbed, feeling it begin to give. His hunger was such that he wanted to plunge in quickly, but instead he took a moment and inserted his large, rough fingers to stretch him out. When the cowboy was ready, he moaned as he plunged his rock-hard cock into his virgin-like tightness, and his groin burst with sparks of melting heat. With his soul on fire, he continued to plunge in and out of the faceless cowboy’s ass, chasing the hot, melting sensations until he was so close his frenzied movements became abandoned, his satisfaction coming in the next plunge, or the next. It eluded him over and over again while sweat rolled down his face. He closed his eyes, a deep, guttural moan resting in his throat, ready to come trailing out as he got closer and closer to that place where he felt the beginning of a raw, rolling tide. As he feverishly worked for it, it began to grow, each moment a lifetime until at last it engulfed him, bringing him closer and closer. His breath was labored and short, and a series of low moans pushed out, one by one. And then, before he knew what hit him, his groin was saturated with the heat, the raw, melting pleasure that burst upon him all at once, getting bigger and bigger until it at last put out the fire that burned in his belly. And then as it slowly ebbed away, he went limp, his breath labored.

The act was cold. Meant only to meet a need. The cowboy’s face would never be remembered. It was a face that would become lost in a flurry of other faces he had fucked in every town he’d been in. And then suddenly he felt the cowboy cruelly push him away.

“You ain’t no fuckin’ preacher!” the faceless cowboy hissed while he was closing up his pants.

“Shut up, hellcat!” Sunset Carson growled back at him as he slipped him a few dollars. “If I ain’t a preacher, you go talk to God about it and leave me alone!”

“Yeah? What if I decide to tell? By the way, how much did you take in tonight? I saw people puttin’ everything they had in that fuckin’ donation plate. I’d hate to have to tell this lousy town all about their God-fearin’ preacher. Give me everything in it, and my mouth is closed!”

As quick as lightning, Sunset drew his guns and pointed them at the cowboy. “I know a better way to close your mouth.”

“You mean you’d shoot me? My God, you’re a preacher! You ain’t supposed to go around killin’ people.”

“Yeah?” Sunset answered. “Well, I do a lot of things I ain’t supposed to. Just so you know, this gun’s got a hair trigger, and I ain’t shy about usin’ it.”

“You’re crazy!” the cowboy shouted as he backed away. “I just let a crazy preacher fuck my ass!”

As the cowboy turned and ran, Sunset made his way back to his wife, his secret still hidden in his black heart.

* * * *

“In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread,

till thou return unto the ground; for out of it

wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.”

The little black book that lay open in Sunset’s hand was thin. Most of the pages were dog-eared and torn, and the cover was badly scuffed up from long use. Chapter by chapter, it instructed the circuit preacher in the proper ways of conducting weddings, funerals, counseling, and prayer meetings, everything from small camp meetings to a large tent revival. He’d depended on it all his life, and now as he read from it, he was laying his wife to rest, her dead body nestled in pale yellow silk.

He had just closed the book when the grave diggers came forward to lower the casket into the ground. As he saw the top close and the casket descend, a pain much like a doubled up fist hit his heart. He felt as if a part of him was being buried with her, a part of his life he would never know again. As he continued to stare down into the dark, gaping hole, he remembered her smile, her laughter, her warmth—and the face of the snake who killed her.

The life of a traveling preacher was hard on a wife and could be dangerous. He knew that she had dreams of the day he would settle down and get a church of his own, but he was too young right now. For the most part, church people wanted older men to head their churches, so that left the younger ones to travel the circuit. In every town he went into, he would set up either a tent revival, or a camp meeting, depending on the size of the town. His job was to stir people up, so that when the permanent pastor came, the people would be in the right mind for a church.

His life changed on the dark day he and his wife were traveling through a small Texas town located in the hill country. A rich landowner by the name of Lon Cassidy hired a couple of gunslingers to run off the homesteaders. They were settlers who had purchased their property from Cassidy, only to find he’d reneged on the deal and later claimed they were violating his land. The renowned bad men knew only one way to do their dirty work—with guns.

Desperate, the homeowners called on the preacher to help, so he confronted Cassidy and tried to reason with him, only to find himself engaged in a war. The men in black grew in number—like snakes that seemed to crawl from between the planks of the house and descend upon him. Instead of turning to run, he stood his ground, each hand holding a gun that shot bullet after bullet into those that dared try and take what didn’t belong to them. Thinking his wife was safe inside, he stood alone while he rushed them, the bullets leaping one after the other from the barrel of both guns, blazing, sizzling, blasting. When they finally turned and ran, it was already too late, because behind him, lying in a pool of her own blood, was his beloved wife. By the time the gun smoke had cleared, a pair of the brightest blue eyes he’d ever seen was etched in his memory—eyes of the dirt and sweat gunslinger that he would see in his mind for as long as he lived.

Now, as he uttered the last “amen,” the crowd stepped back so the grave diggers could begin covering the casket. The dreaded scraping of hard ground was like fingernails on a blackboard, and each thump as the heavy dirt landed on the top was like another blow to his heart. One by one, the crowd began thinning out, but he lingered until everyone was gone. His frock coat was dusty with trail dust, and his two guns hung askew on each side of his hips. The line of metal bullets glinted in the hot Texas sun, telling anyone who cared to look, that this “Man of God” was a two-fisted gun. Many times when he encountered opposition, he drew his guns, and with the Bible open to his favorite chapter and verse, this frontier preacher blasted the sinners to Hell and the saints to Paradise.

Feeling his loss, he stood there alone, gazing down at his little black book and its instructions for a holy life. As he held it between his two palms, he felt a rising anger and slammed it shut for the last time. He felt empty, like the lost lambs he had preached to almost all his life, but it didn’t matter because it ended here. Without a second thought, or a moment’s hesitation, he yanked the cross from around his neck, took his Bible, the handbook, and his crumbling faith and cast them all down into the gaping hole to be buried with his wife. After everything he had believed in became slowly covered by the dirt that continued to fall on top of the coffin—he walked away.

Chapter One

Seminole Canyon three years later…

As Sunset loaded and unloaded his gun on a row of whiskey bottles, his lean, wiry body had become hard with muscles, and he walked with a determined stride. He kept his guns loaded and practiced day after day, destroying every whiskey bottle he emptied. He’d been at it for the three years he’d walked away from it all, and by now he could outshoot the best. He no longer wore a frock coat. He had exchanged it for a coat of buckskin and a curled cowboy hat that had a band around it with his wife’s ring attached.

Now that he was alone, he was constantly reminded of the secret he had carried with him all through his ministry. He didn’t remember the first time he finally succumbed to temptation, but in town after town, he filled his needs with faceless cowboys looking to make a quick buck. At first it was every now and then, but it grew into a nightly thing with no one looking but God and the Devil. Now that all his excuses were gone, the secret consumed him. He no longer had anything to keep him from living the life he wanted, but because the Bible taught against it, he had a problem giving himself over to it completely. Women, he could have. The saloons were full of them, but they always left him strangely unsatisfied. And then it began haunting his dreams. Many times he would see a silhouette of a cowboy with a cock so damned long and big, he’d wake up pumping himself hard—so damned hard he thought he was going to pump himself dry.

How many times had he walked into a saloon and found his gaze wandering until he saw a firm ass in a pair of tight jeans, or the lusty frame of a handsome cowboy? He tried to push it out of his mind, but eventually he’d give in and go and stand beside him at the bar just to inhale his scent. And then the day came when he couldn’t recall his wife’s face anymore. It had become blurred by a succession of big, sexy cowboys with cocks so long he dreamed of having them, one by one, rammed up his ass. Guilt filled him. Where would he go now? What would he do? His secret life had always been something that would have to stay hidden. It was part of his fantasy life such as an erotic dream, a dirty habit, or a secret no one could ever know about—until now.

* * * *

“Where’s your Bible, preacher?”

“In a hole in the ground,” came the dusty drawl.

“I was right,” the cowboy said, as he leaned around to get a better look at him. “I’ll be damned if you ain’t the famous Sunset Carson.”

Sunset reached up and pulled his hat a little further down over his face, and kept drinking his whiskey.

“I used to watch you…”

“Shut up!” Sunset growled.

“No, it is you. I know because I used…”

Sunset banged his glass down on the bar and turned to the stranger. “Look, I come in here to relax before I get on the trail again, so I’d appreciate it if you’d get the hell out of my face.”

“Get on the trail? Where you goin’?”

Even though Sunset ignored him, it didn’t discourage the cowboy. He just kept staring at him as if he’d just witnessed the second coming. He could see that the years had changed Sunset. He looked dangerous—like a stone-cold gunslinger. His neat preacher’s hair had grown long and lay curly and untamed several inches below his shoulder. His smooth, handsome face had a stubble of beard on it which hid his dimpled youth. It was hard to tell whether he had been aged by what he’d experienced or if it was his unkempt and rugged appearance. He’d heard about all the suffering he’d gone through, and as near as he could tell, it seemed to have added a sort of maturity to his looks, making him twice as handsome. Maybe a little more sorrow reflected in his eyes, but even through the stubble on his face, you could still see the dimples in his cheeks that made him seem younger than he actually was. He had stood tall in the pulpit, ten feet at least, dressed in a black preacher’s garb, preaching hellfire and brimstone with a boldness no one had ever seen before. The first place he ever preached was in the saloon he stood in now. He could handle the rowdies with one hand tied behind his back and could take a punch with the best of them. He could sure as hell make a believer out of a cowboy with his fists, if not with his words. He was always a wild hare that carried a gun in one hand and a Bible in the other. He didn’t have a problem giving a man a second chance, but now, it seemed the preacher needed one for himself.

Now that it was all over, he had the look of a loner, or a wanderer who nursed a troubled past. With nothing to tie him down, he turned into a drifter, a lone cowboy with no roots and nowhere to hang his hat. Without a family or a home, others would view him with great suspicion, but when the moment was right, he would always prove his worth as a hero. Although he was accepted by those around him, he ultimately packed his bags and rode off into the sunset, never to be seen again. With no direction, he lived the life of a gunman and was often accused of being an outlaw, but in reality, he was just deeply troubled.

“If you need to talk…”

* * * *

Sunset turned his head and looked at the stranger. “Look, cowboy, I—” His words stopped when he saw the spider tattoo on the stranger’s neck. His gaze lingered on it, knowing he’d seen it before, but couldn’t remember where. His gaze lifted, and his eyes narrowed. There was something familiar about his face. He tried to place him, but he just couldn’t seem to put it together. He finally concluded that he must have seen him, or someone like him, during his travels as a frontier preacher, since he covered a big territory. With the stranger waiting for him to continue, he said, “I ain’t lookin’ for company.”

“Yeah? What are you lookin’ for? If it’s lost lambs here in the Oasis Saloon, I’m afraid you won’t have too many takers.”

“Look—” Sunset began, searching for a name.

“Vince…Vince Michaels.”

“Look, Michaels, I’m hot and tired right now, so if you don’t mind, I just came in here to wash the trail dust out of my throat.”

“Sure, preacher—”

Sunset was beginning to show his impatience. “Since I ain’t preachin’ no more, you don’t have to call me that.” He hesitated, a troubled look on his face as he turned back to his whiskey. “I guess maybe I’m one of them lost lambs that needs savin’.”

“Don’t tell me the holier-than-thou preacher fell from grace. Maybe I should buy a round of drinks.”

“It ain’t nothin’ you celebrate, cowboy.”

“I don’t agree. Bein’ religious is as inconvenient as hell…”

As the stranger continued to speak the words of an atheist, Sunset furtively cut his eyes toward him and let his gaze rake freely over his body. He was big and swarthy. His eyes were as bright a blue as he’d ever seen, the color so deep he knew something real bad had to be going on behind that blue curtain that hid his soul. He seemed to smile a lot, as if he were full of mischief. Sunset figured he must stay outside a lot since his brown hair was streaked with blond. His shoulders were wide, and his hips narrow. A couple of curls fell along his brow, making him look like a naughty little boy. His lips weren’t necessarily full, but had an appealing curl to them. He was handsome, and rugged—and there was something about those eyes. Maybe they’d seen a lot in his day, something that turned this hunky type cowboy into a wild creature who could no doubt hold his own—and he hated him. Not only for his interference into his life, but for the strange melting warmth the cowboy made him feel when he looked at him. “So you’re an atheist.”

“I believe in a lot of things, but God ain’t one of ’em,” he said, his blue eyes full of licking fire.

“Then why did you come to hear me preach?”

“I didn’t come to hear you. I came to watch you. Hell, you put on the best show in town. You know, you must’ve saved me about three times, until I realized it wasn’t your hellfire-and-brimstone sermons that drew me. The truth was, I just loved havin’ your hands all over me when I confessed my sins to you.”

Sunset looked at him with a frown. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just what you think I mean.”

“You mean, you’re—”

“I am, preacher. Through and through.”

Sunset turned away quickly. “Look, Vince, or whatever the hell your name is, I’m all out of conversation, so I’d appreciate it if you’d just let me finish my drink in peace.”

“Hey, you’ll get all the peace you want in your grave—”

“I didn’t—” Sunset’s words stopped suddenly when he turned and found Vince’s face too close to his. Before he got his next words out, he was imagining a kiss, a wet mouth, a cock wild and hard, pressing against his. He wanted to lie beneath Vince while he tore into his ass, making him cry out with more pleasure than he’d ever known. “I didn’t come in here to talk. I just want to relax and enjoy my drink,” he finally said, turning back to the bar.

“Then this is the place you need to be. Yeah, I mean you can come in here and relax with a drink, no woman yellin’ in your ear to do the chores. You can play a nice game of poker, talk with friends. And the stories you hear.” He chuckled. “Hey, I heard one just last week. It was all about this preacher turned gunslinger…”

Chapter Two

Preacher turned gunslinger.

It was a story that got printed in the local paper that Sunset was still trying to live down. If the cowboy was trying to get a rise out of him, that did it. He turned on his heels, grabbed Vince’s collar, and pushed his face up close to his. “That’s a lie, cowboy, and if you’re smart, you’ll let it die right here…before you do.” Brutally pushing him away, he said to the barkeep, “Give me a whiskey.”

“A whiskey?” Vince said. “My, my. I can remember a sermon you gave on the sins of—”

“A lot of good it did you, cowboy, since you don’t believe in anything but yourself.”

“Hey, you’re out of the business, so why would you care. Me? I just want to be friends. Is there somethin’ wrong with that?”

“Friends?” Sunset said, looking at Vince as if he were a bug crawling out from under the sink. “Why would I want to be friends with the likes of you?”

“Maybe because you’re just like me. A man that learned late in life what he really was. A man that—”

“Vince,” he said impatiently as he laid a threatening hand on one of his guns. “You know, I’m growin’ awful tired of hearin’ the sound of your voice! Maybe I would have turned the other cheek once, but no more, see? Just take note that I’m givin’ you plenty of warnin’. The mild, patient preacher is gone, and in his place are two six-gun barrels pointed right at you. You want to find out how much I’ve changed in three years, just count the notches because these guns I’m carryin’ ain’t for show. It just could be that them notches on there show the number of dumb cowboys that wouldn’t leave me be. Now, if you can understand that, I’d appreciate it if you’d either keep your mouth shut, or go somewhere I don’t have to lay eyes on you anymore because my trigger finger’s gettin’ awful itchy just lookin’ at you.”

“I don’t seem to remember you bein’ particularly mild or patient. And that trigger finger of yours ain’t been out of business since the first day I saw you.”

Sunset grabbed his whiskey bottle, his glass, and walked to a nearby table. When he saw Vince follow him, he looked up and said, “Are you still here? What is it with you? Are you hard of hearin’, or just plain dumb? Go, damn it!”

* * * *

Now that he’d found him, Vince wasn’t about to let the preacher out of his sight. He remembered the first time he happened to go back behind the tent to smoke a cigarette. He found the preacher out there fucking a cowboy’s ass in the dirt. From that night on, he watched the preacher and saw him sneak out after every meeting. He learned that it was usually a quick, do-it-and-go kind of thing, and he always paid them for their silence out of the donation plate. It was a real shame that these people didn’t know what their hard-earned money was going for. The strange thing was, the preacher seemed to believe what he was preaching. He just had an itch that had to be scratched every now and then. And then one night Vince paid the cowboy off that was waitin’ for the preacher, and met him himself. Vince remembered the night and the familiar voice that spoke to him.

“Are you Clay?”

“He couldn’t come. Will I do?”

He remembered Sunset sizing him up, and then he said, “You know what I want?”

“Clay didn’t tell me, but whatever it is, I think I can handle it.”

He watched Sunset as he began unbuttoning his pants. He had just got it undone, when suddenly his giant cock sprang from its confines and forced the rest of the fly to open. Never had he seen anything so big. He could almost taste it. He quickly lowered himself to his knees and took it in his hands almost worshipfully, stroking and rubbing it with a lustful longing in his eyes.

“Eat it,” Sunset said.

Without another word, Vince opened his mouth, wondering if Sunset’s cock was too large to fit in his mouth. His tongue leapt forward. First he began to lick it, and then he opened as wide as he could and felt his mouth stretching as his lips closed around the head. His tongue rubbed and sucked, his teeth scratching along the side. And then he felt Sunset’s hands on his head, pushing his cock deeper into his mouth, his throat swallowing the sweet, tangy elixir that dripped from the tip and onto his tongue. By now, Sunset was leaning against a trunk, his hips gyrating as he forced his cock further into Vince’s mouth, and moaning.

As Sunset pushed his cock in and out of Vince’s mouth, Vince became excited, licking, sucking, and chewing as hard as he could until finally a moan burst from Sunset’s throat just as he spewed his lusty cream into his mouth. Sunset quickly pushed Vince to the ground, cupped Vince’s cock and balls with his hand, and began to rub. Vince turned on his side, and Sunset lay behind him, reaching around and hand-fucking him until he could do nothing but spew out his satisfaction all over the ground.

When the evening was over, Vince had twenty-five dollars in his pocket.

Did that make him a sinner beyond help? Just because he wanted to bed this Holy Roller, did that mean he was headed for hell? He knew the preacher was in torment, and he knew the reason why. After years of living by the good book, now he was free to fuck whoever he wanted, but he still struggled with it because he considered it a sin. Vince knew he must be as hungry as hell. He’d probably fucked every saloon girl from here to California trying to get satisfied, but it didn’t work. What he needed was to fuck a cowboy’s ass to give him that sweet feeling of satisfaction—and Vince was ready to help in any way he could.

“Ain’t that a weddin’ ring I see attached to your hat there? Your wife’s, huh?”

Sunset turned, his lightning eyes boring into Vince’s. “You got a big mouth, you know that?”

“Is that why you quit—?”

“I told you to leave me alone!” Sunset yelled.

“Okay, okay,” Vince said as he lifted his drink, and took a sip.

His gaze raked along Sunset’s face. He had fantasized about kissing those lips for years. While he was staring, Sunset turned and saw him.

“What the hell are you starin’ at?”

“I was just lookin’ at the ring there—”

“It wasn’t the ring you was lookin’ at just now. Keep your fuckin’ eyes to yourself.”

“Fightin’, drinkin’, cursin’, my, you have changed, haven’t you? So what happened to change you, preacher? Did it have anything to do with your wife—?”

“That’s it,” Sunset said. He stood and pulled Vince up by the collar. He was just about to knock him into the next county when Vince lifted his hands in surrender.

“All right, preacher, no need to get violent. You want to fight, we can step out into the street, or I can buy you a drink.” When Sunset pushed him away, Vince yelled out to the bartender, “Hey, Dan, how about another bottle for me and the preacher here?” When it came, he grabbed it up and poured a little into their glasses. “Come on and share my bottle with me.”

“Go to hell.” Sunset rose, kicking his chair backward. “If you won’t leave, then I will. This ain’t the only saloon in town.”

“All right, preacher, I get the message. You want to be left alone. Fine, but if you’ll sit down, I’ll let you ask the questions this time.”

Sunset turned, looked curiously at him, and thought this might be a good opportunity to find out just who the hell he was and why he looked so familiar. He sat down slowly threw his head back and swallowed his drink, and then asked, “All right, slugger, where the hell did you get that spider on your neck?”

“I got it in San Francisco when I was sixteen. It was a whim. You know how kids are.”

“Yeah, I know. So who the hell are you?”

Vince smiled. “For a start, I’m Vince Mi—”

“I know what your fuckin’ name is. What I want to know is what’s your reason for livin’? How do you spend your miserable day? Do you make a habit of forcin’ your company on innocent people who just want to be left alone?”

“I’m a bronco buster. I’m not workin’ at it right now, but I used to work for old man Cotter at his horse ranch. I kind of stay buried during the week, and then show up in town on Friday and Saturday nights and make a spectacle of myself.”

“Yeah, well, you do that damned well.”

“I do a lot of things damned well,” Vince said suggestively, his expressive eyes looking deep into Sunset’s.

Sunset turned away quickly. “That…that…bronco bustin’, that’s hard work, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. I used to bust his horses before he sold ’em. Some went to the military, some to other buyers, and those that were left I took to market.”

“It seems a shame to take a wild horse and break him like that.”

“Maybe,” Vince said as he caught Sunset’s eyes and winked suggestively. “But anything rode has to be tamed.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered. “I ain’t…I mean, I—”

“Easy, preacher,” Vince said, reaching over and putting his hand on Sunset’s thigh. “You’re just a little wild right now, that’s all. I’ll have you—”

Sunset shoved his hand away and cut his gaze around as if he was afraid someone might have seen him. “So, what…what do you do now?”

“Now? Now, I got a different line of work. Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday.”

Sunset pushed his chair out and rose from the table. “I got to go.”

Vince caught his arm to stop him. “You keep runnin’ away, preacher, and you’ll never have a minute’s peace. I think you know what I mean.”

Sunset cut his gaze over at him, and then sat back down. “I tell you, I ain’t no—”

“You keep denyin’ it, but we both know the truth, don’t we?” Vince watched Sunset’s reaction as he sneaked his hand over to his thigh again.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

“Only what you want me to.”

“What the hell makes you think…” Sunset stopped and looked around as if he thought he might be talking too loud, and began again in a softer tone, “What the hell makes you think I want your fuckin’ hand on my thigh?”

Vince smiled knowingly and gave Sunset’s thigh a gentle squeeze. “It gets awful dark back behind that tent.”

A chill coursed down Sunset’s spine. “W-What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Twenty-five dollars for sucking your dick was good pay. I only paid the cowboy ten to get rid of him.” He slowly inched his hand up further and further until he found his crotch that was large and hard. “Yours is the biggest cock I’ve ever seen, and from the feel of it now, you’re beggin’ for it, preacher, and we both know it.”

While Vince’s hand rubbed him, Sunset’s eyes closed, and his tongue edged out of his mouth to lick his lips. “All right, so you know my secret. I’ll kill you if you tell anyone.”

“You have nothin’ to worry about, preacher,” Vince said as he squeezed his thigh again. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“You bastard,” Sunset said under his breath. “Move your hand before someone sees you.”

“Come back to the hotel with me,” Vince whispered.

“I can’t…I—”

“I can put that fire out for you, preacher, with one hell of a fuck.”

* * * *

Sunset looked deeply into Vince’s luminous blue eyes, knowing he was about to enter hell.

Chapter Three

The two cowboys were walking down the dark street when suddenly Sunset stopped. “I—I don’t think—”

Vince turned quickly, grabbed him, and shoved him into an alley against the wall of the general store. “Why the hell are you fightin’ against this?”

“I’m not used to having anyone know about this.”

“Well, you didn’t seem to have a problem with it back behind your tent.”

“But those cowboys—they were faceless nobodies. I knew I’d never see ’em again. It made it easier somehow.”

“Preacher—”

“Quit callin’ me preacher, damn it! If you keep remindin’ me of what I was, I’ll never be able to do this.”

“All right,” Vince whispered. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s too soon. Here’s what we’ll do. I got a place out at the edge of Rogue’s Canyon. You just got into town, so you probably don’t have a place to stay. We can stay at the hotel tonight, and tomorrow I’ll take you out there. It’s only a few miles, and if you like it okay, you can stay. We’ll work through this together.”

“I want my own room.”

“Sure, sure.”

Now that he had managed to get Sunset calmed down, they continued their walk down to the hotel and registered. To keep Sunset from getting cold feet, he got him his own room and walked him to the door. “Well, this is it,” Vince said and indicated to the room next door. “I’ll be over there if you need me.”

“Fine, I’ll say goodnight now,” Sunset said and turned to go in.

“Don’t go in yet,” Vince whispered and looked up and down the hall like an illicit lover.

* * * *

Sunset’s gaze followed Vince’s as he looked into the shadowy corridor empty of anyone or anything but their desires. A fire seemed to burn between them as Vince spoke in an intimate whisper.

“You know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this moment? Hell, I remember the first time I saw you. Everybody was talkin’ about this wild-hair preacher that came to town to preach a revival. It was before you used a tent. I remember you put up your damned podium in the saloon and preached sermons like a damned gunslinger. It made me wonder just how many souls you could save when you kept ’em seated at the point of a gun. I was intrigued enough to stick around, and so were the others, I guess. You were kind of a rogue, you know? It was great to watch you in action. Hell, man, you became famous. You got written up in papers as far away as California. I even remember when The Trumpet here in town bumped the story about Belle Starr, the Outlaw Queen, just because everybody wanted to read about you.”

“So you been plannin’ this all along?”

“Not plannin’ it really. I kept my eyes open, that’s all. I knew you’d come out of hidin’ sooner or later.”

“I wasn’t hidin’ out. After I threw my faith away, I traded my frock coat for a gut full of determination to get the damned bastard who shot my wife. I knew I wasn’t good enough, so I spent every day practicin’ my fast draw for the day I find him.” He looked Vince straight in the eyes. “If I ever find him, I’ll shoot the bastard so full of holes there won’t be enough to bury.”

A chill crawled up Vince’s spine. “Sunset, I—”

“I saw him,” Sunset interrupted.

“You what?”

“I saw the bastard who killed my wife.”

“Are you sure?” Vince asked.

“Hell, yes!” Sunset said. “He hid his face behind a kerchief, but he pulled it down before he rode off, and I got a look at his face. Wherever that devil is, he’d better be damned scared because his life ain’t worth a plug nickel.”

“Sunset,” Vince whispered, “let’s don’t talk about that. It’s over. Now’s the ideal time to begin a new life.”

A new life, Sunset thought, as he looked at Vince, who stood close, his haunting lips only a breath away. He could feel his hands on his ass and his cock pressing against him. A new life with Vince. He could feel Vince’s hips moving to a hot, erotic rhythm that took his breath. God, he wanted it so much. Why did he hold back? He wanted to relax, and tried to, but his body was stiff. Vince was so close, he could feel his hot breath and his lips as he softly moved them along his face. With Vince so close, his breathing was becoming short while his groin flooded with hot, melting passion. He looked up, meeting Vince’s eyes. He saw the blatant hunger, and from somewhere deep inside him came a soft, hot, thrilling sensation that thrummed through his cock when he thought about fucking him.

Slowly, Vince leaned close enough for their lips to touch ever so slightly—until they finally covered his. They were firm, with the flavor of the wind and dust of the prairie on them. While Vince’s lips moved erotically over his, he pressed him against the door, his tongue invading his mouth. Sunset responded, his tongue meeting Vince’s in an embrace of hot lust. He wanted to cling to Vince, the kiss becoming hotter and hotter until his arms crept around him, and his cock pressed hard against his. Vince’s day-old whiskers rubbed him, making a fire flame up inside him. Sunset wanted to suck the bold cowboy’s tongue, to stay in his arms, melting against him, rubbing himself against him, causing fire after fire to explode between them. Without a doubt, it was an exciting and dangerous, wildly hot-blooded, and insanely wonderful kiss, but he couldn’t—not yet.

Sunset quickly pushed him away. “Here in the hall? Someone’ll see us.”

“Then invite me in.”

Holding his breath, Sunset turned and opened the door. The room was dark except for the moon’s rays that stretched across the bed, illuminating it. Sunset stared at it. It was inviting, yet scary.

No! No! I can’t let this happen, he thought, but something inside him wouldn’t let him send Vince away.

When Vince reached for Sunset again, Sunset responded with a sinful eagerness, being comforted by the fact that the room was small and hot, and this dirty, illicit act was covered by darkness. Before he knew what was happening, Vince had him against the wall. His body was firm, his contours strong and muscled. It was the dream he had dreamed many times, and it was coming true. With his mouth open and moist, Vince’s tongue sought Sunset’s, and against his better judgment, Sunset offered it, opening to him like an addict tasting his first drug. Fire quickly flooded his veins and roared out of control, taking possession of him. Vince’s devilish heat surrounded him, seeping into his bones, spreading new waves of flames through him until every inch of his flesh was on fire.

“This is madness,” Sunset whispered between crazed kisses. “I don’t even know you, I—”

Before he could say more, his words were gobbled up in a succession of hot, deep kisses that had his senses whirling. Suddenly, their hands were all over each other, yanking and pulling until each of them was almost naked, their hard cocks standing erect and reaching one for the other. Vince reached down and cupped his hand around Sunset’s cock and began a scintillating play until he finally got close enough to him that their cocks touched. Only a teasing rub at first, and then more, harder, faster. They were two men playing with fire, two men standing together, moving themselves against each other and moaning. It was so god-awful naughty, and dirty, and so good, Sunset could taste it in his mouth. The sensations burst one after the other, getting hotter and hotter. In passion, Sunset responded, writhing against the hard wall until his shirt fell from his back. Vince took him and laid him down on the luminous bed. With flesh against flesh, Sunset opened his legs, inviting Vince to take his ass—to touch, to fondle, to lick and bite his flesh—to fuck him until he was spent.

Vince reached down and grasped Sunset’s cock and rubbed it until a guttural moan burst from his mouth. The quiet room was full of shaky breath, whimpering moans, and sucking sounds as Vince’s tongue licked his nipples and grazed his skin like a hungry beast. He finally pressed his cock against Sunset’s ass, pushing and moaning as the head of his cock inched in, little by little, inch by inch, creating a new sensation, each bigger and better than the one before. When Vince finally plunged his cock into Sunset, he whimpered and moaned loudly. Oh, God, it was good! They fucked each other hard, the bed bouncing slightly until finally Vince lifted Sunset up so he straddled him. They sat rocking together, with Vince’s cock still buried deep in Sunset’s ass, and his tongue deep into the sweet, dark, velvety softness of Sunset’s mouth. While their lips sucked and nibbled, their hips pumped faster and faster. Moans, smells of sex, and mild winds from the open window ruffled their hair. Each small fire rose higher and higher, and Sunset’s hungry ass wiggled with delight at Vince’s wild plunges that caused sensation after sensation to flood him.

Sunset growled lustily as Vince continued to thrust his cock in and out, deeper and deeper into his ass. And then it happened, and his cum burst from his cock into Vince’s hand. In only seconds a repeated blast of semen burst from Vince’s cock until the two of them wilted against each other, each wrapped in a sensual warmth.

Sunset slept like a baby that night, and what before was a faceless cowboy with a long cock now took on the features of Vince, along with the haunting familiarity of his face—and the spider tattoo.

* * * *

It was just before dawn when Sunset began thrashing around in his bed, asleep, but restless. The night was hot, and he threw back his sheet to reveal an erection. He was just about to reach for it and begin a rigorous handling of it when he felt something. He quickly looked down and saw a woman’s hands closing around it. He frowned when he noticed that her nails were long and bloody, and she looked at his cock as if she were hungry. Suddenly, her tongue leapt out of her mouth, and she began sucking and licking. Her full lips and even teeth moistened and scraped Sunset’s prick, making him moan with pleasure. When he finally came, he reveled in the release he felt until he looked down and saw her staring at him with his cum dripping down her chin. He gasped when he saw who she was, and watched as her face slowly faded away. He couldn’t believe it. He jumped out of bed to get away—away from her bloody hands and yellow silk dress—the yellow silk that lined her coffin.

The woman in his dream was his dead wife.

Later on that morning when Sunset came out of the hotel, he was still caught in the strange feeling he’d had from the dream. It made him wonder if his wife was haunting him. Did she know what he had become? He looked around as if he thought everyone in town was staring at him. Vince had recognized him, so he wondered if anyone else had. And if they did, did they know he’d shared his body with another cowboy? Maybe it was wrong, but now he knew it was something he had to have, no matter how dirty or wrong it might be.

Just then his gaze shifted, and he happened to catch a look at himself through a window that sold women’s fashions. There among the bustles and parasols was the ghostly image of the new Sunset Carson. Once a preacher, now a saddle tramp and sinner. A sudden surge of fear washed through him. He looked at the specter with no color and no depth in his image. It was almost as if he were a dead man. A dead man walking. He thought again of his wife—and her dress of yellow silk.

“You ready?”

Vince’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked up at him and nodded. He reluctantly mounted his horse, his mind still heavy with guilt. The ride out beyond Rogue’s Canyon was long and dusty. The galloping horses kicked up the dust that mingled with the wind as it blew into Sunset’s face and over his body. Riding was a dirty job. With the sun burning down on him, and the hot dust blowing on him, the first thing Sunset wanted to do was swim in a cool, clear lake somewhere.

“Where’s the nearest lake around here?” he yelled out.

“The nearest one is at Cripple Creek.”

“If it’s not far, I’d like to get some of this dust off me.”

“It’s just up around that bend there. All you gotta do is follow this road about half a mile, turn north, and it ends at the creek.”

“Okay. I’ll go on ahead and meet up with you later.”

“All right, but when you come back, take the turnoff. That’ll lead you into the mouth of the Salt Lick. Follow the Lick until you come to a grove of trees. Stay on the path until you find a tree that looks like it’s been sliced through by lightning. Just beyond that is the…my place.”

“Your place? It sounds like a damned hideout.”

“It is.”

“What the hell are you doing in a hideout?”

“Look, preacher,” Vince said with a somber face. “I’m puttin’ my trust in you. Don’t let me find out I was wrong.”

Surprised by his answer, Sunset watched as Vince nudged his horse forward and got lost in the thick trail dust that his horse kicked up behind him. Vince’s words bothered him, so he allowed his horse to gallop along in a slow, steady pace while he thought about what Vince had said. Maybe it was nothing, but he wondered if he had gotten himself into something he couldn’t handle. After all, what did he know about Vince other than he was a bronco buster and a first-rate fucker. After a while the glitter from the sun shining on the creek took his attention, and he immediately pulled in among some trees. He quickly tied up his horse, stripped down naked, and jumped in. He’d been in about a half hour when he turned and saw another cowboy wading in.

“Oh, God,” Sunset muttered when he saw the cowboy’s cock. A heat filled his belly as he stared. He turned away quickly and looked around. He had to find a place where he couldn’t be seen, so he waded toward a thicket of bushes growing out of the water. There, he pulled the branches back and watched the cowboy wash himself off. He couldn’t help reaching for his own cock, all the while wishing for this stranger’s tight ass to plunge it into. His gaze scanned along the stranger’s body, his tight ass driving him crazy. He could feel the stranger’s cock in his mouth, and it tasted like candy. He must have closed his eyes in ecstasy for a moment because suddenly he heard a voice.

“Hi, there. What are you doin’ back here?”

Sunset turned quickly. “Oh…uh, nothing really. When I saw you, I came back here to give us both some privacy.”

“Oh, hell, I don’t need no privacy.” He looked closely at Sunset. “You know, you look familiar. Who are you?”

“The name’s Sunset Carson. I’ll be stayin’ with Vince Michaels at his…place.”

“Is that a fact?” he said, reaching out to shake Sunset’s hand. “I’m Chick Mason, a friend of Vince’s.”

“Really? Vince didn’t mention you.”

“No reason why he should. I’m just one of his gang.”

“Gang?”

“Yeah. Well, what’s left of us. Ain’t he discussed this with you?”

“No,” Sunset said, a worried look on his face.

“He will,” Chick said as his gaze raked over Sunset suggestively. “If you’re gonna be stayin’ with Vince, that must mean—”

“Mean what?” Sunset said defensively.

“Hey, I happen to know what kind Vince is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hell, man, you know what I mean. Are you one like him?”

“What if I am?”

“That must make it kind of cozy.” He winked suggestively. “If the truth be known, maybe I’m that sort myself.”

Sunset could feel his cock getting even harder at what this cowboy was saying.

Chick looked around. “Nobody around. Maybe you’d like…”

“You mean…now…?”

“Sure,” he said, then reached down and began handling his cock. “Damn, I’m always ready.”

Sunset watched as he slowly walked toward him, the very air around them sizzling like sparks of lightning. The closer Chick came, the more the feeling of intimacy deepened.

Slowly, Chick reached out and stroked Sunset’s face. “You’re damned good lookin’. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Sunset’s breath caught in his throat when he found Chick’s face close enough to feel the heat of his breath. With an open mouth, the cowboy licked Sunset’s lips, his tongue sneaking in and tangling with his own.

Sunset moaned, responding as the cowboy’s tongue explored the soft, velvety inside of his mouth. Suddenly, he felt Chick’s brick-hard cock press against his. Both cocks rubbed against each other, causing them to become larger. The larger they became, the more the sensation heightened, making the movement of their hips faster, urging each of them closer and closer to the raw pleasure that flirted just beyond. Just then Sunset felt Chick’s hand as it reached down and grabbed his ass, and then his balls, stroking them over and over, causing another guttural moan to slip past his lips. Sunset could feel himself melting in Chick’s arms. He wanted his cock inside him so bad he lifted his legs, his back pressing against the cradle-like area that was almost like a bed and hidden by the water that covered them like a blanket. Chick’s cock found Sunset’s hole and entered him, his thrusts making Sunset moan as he pushed him against the soft mud of the bank, lunging harder and harder until Sunset thought he would die of pleasure. He gasped, he moaned, and when he felt himself nearing an orgasm, he said, “Oh, God, it’s so…”

“Be quiet, for God’s sake, I’m gonna come,” the cowboy whispered. As his passion rose, he frantically bit and grazed along Sunset’s neck, sucking at the beads of water on him. His breath was labored. Whimpers escaped from his mouth until at last he shattered in a fiery blast. When it was over, Chick continued to hold Sunset. “This was good for now,” he said in his ear, “but it’ll never be as good as having two cowboys at one time.”

“My God, two?”

With narrowed eyes, the cowboy asked, “Who the hell are you, anyway?”

“Su—”

“No, I don’t mean your name. Just who the hell are you?”

“Nobody really. Just a preacher turned—”

“A preacher?” the cowboy yelled. “I done went and fucked a goddamned preacher?” He turned to get out of the lake as if he thought a whole horde of demons were about to come down on him.

“No!” Sunset yelled as he followed him out of the lake. “I’m not a preacher now. That was a long time ago. Before I learned about myself.”

Chick turned and looked at him. “Maybe you’d better tell me the whole story.”

As they sat down on the soft grass, Sunset said, “Look, I’m nobody. Just a frontier preacher. At least I was before my wife died.”

“Your wife died? In a gunfight?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Oh, my God!” Chick muttered.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothin’. I think I heard about that. You kind of…quit, or somethin’, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Kind of lost my faith.”

“Look, preacher, are you sure you want to stay here with Vince? It might be a lot better on you if you just ride out of here now. Don’t even go back there.”

“Why?” Sunset asked, giving Chick a curious look.

“I’m just sayin’ Vince may not be who you think he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Forget it.”

“So tell me somethin’ about you.”

“Me?” Chick said, and smiled. “I’m just Vince’s sidekick, I guess you’d say. We met when we was both workin’ for old man Cotter breakin’ horses. We kind of just fell together, bein’ the same kind if you know what I mean.”

Sunset smiled. “I think I do.”

“Well, one thing led to another, and I finally moved in with him.”

“You have any folks?”

“No, they died when I was sixteen. I been on my own since then. They come down with some kind of disease that was goin’ around. Scarlet fever, I think it was. As soon as they knew a plague was spreadin’, they sent me off to my aunt up in Montana.” He began moving some dirt around and then looked up at Sunset thoughtfully. “You know, I don’t think just anyone can live out here. It takes a strong constitution. My folks weren’t like that. If it hadn’t been scarlet fever, it would’ve been something else. I tried to talk ’em into goin’ back, but they refused to give up their dream of a new life. They said other people had done it, and they would, too.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry, Chick.”

“That’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

By the time the sun was setting, Sunset and Chick were locked in each other’s arms once again, their naked bodies writhing among the leaves and debris, hidden in the shadow of a large tree.

Chapter Four

“Sorry, I fell asleep at the lake.”

Vince looked out the window and saw Chick riding up, and then cut his gaze over at Sunset. “Was Chick at the lake?”

“Yeah. He came along right after me.”

“Anything happen?”

Sunset looked over at Vince. “What do you mean?”

“Did he make a pass?”

Sunset wanted to smile at the memory, but said, “Was he supposed to?”

“Two naked cowboys in the lake? You figure it out. I just want to know one thing. Was he good?”

“You should know, he’s been in your bed.”

Vince took a plate, heaped it full of food, and put it down in front of Sunset. “The food’s cold by now, but it’ll still be good.” He grabbed a chair, turned it around, and sat in it backwards. “Hey, it’s been good…you and me, right? I mean…” He hesitated. “…well, I was just thinkin’. Have you ever thought of having two cowboys at one time?”

Sunset looked up at him, remembering what Chick had said. “Two?”

“Hell, yeah,” Vince said, getting excited. “One’s good, but two’s twice as good.”

“You mean, Chick, me, and you?”

Vince nodded, looking at Sunset with a half smile.

Sunset could feel himself getting hard, and he’d had sex with Chick not a half hour ago. What the hell was wrong with him? Instead of being satisfied enough to enjoy a good meal and a night of rest, he was imagining what it would be like to have two cowboys fucking the hell out of him. He cut a seductive gaze up at Vince and said, “I guess you know what my answer is.”

Vince smiled. “I’ll get Chick. Get through here,” he said, indicating toward his dinner, “and then get in bed.”

As Vince got up and went outside, Sunset looked down at his dinner. He slowly began eating, but somehow he had lost his appetite to the butterflies in his stomach. He pushed his dinner plate away, got up, and went to his room. While he was undressing, he thought of his wife, and the yellow silk that lined her coffin.

“Please understand, Jenny,” he whispered desperately. “I can’t help it. I didn’t ask for it. It just happened. Hell, I don’t know when. All I remember is one day I was lookin’ at some cowboy and fantasizin’ about fuckin’ his ass. Who knows, maybe I’m possessed with some demon or something. All I know is nothing satisfies me like another man’s ass.”

Just then he heard the front door slam and footsteps coming toward his room. He quickly crawled into his bed and was lying propped up on his pillows when both Chick and Vince walked in. His hand moved down to his cock as he watched them undress, their bodies golden in the undulating lamplight. A slight squeeze and a series of rubs made him as hard as a brick. The melting warmth he felt as the two men crawled in beside him sent thrills to his center. Vince leaned over Sunset and began licking his nipples, causing them to harden at his touch, while Chick leaned down and caught his cock in his hand and began to lick it.

Sunset moaned, a flood of desire rolling inside him like a stormy sea. Chick began at the sensitive head and worked it until he opened his mouth and began to suck hard. Sunset wanted to shout! His cock had grown so big he knew Chick could hardly wrap his mouth around it. His teeth grazed along the sides, slowly eating it, little by little. Finally, Sunset could feel the contractions of his throat as he swallowed his forbidden juices. The subtle movement of his throat rubbed him, causing his hips to begin a slow thrust. As the feeling intensified, he pushed harder and harder until his cock plunged into his mouth a little further each time.

While he grabbed Chick’s head and pulled him closer, Vince slipped in behind Sunset and began to nibble at his neck and shoulders as he rubbed his cock along his back. Slowly he worked his way down to Sunset’s ass. By this time Sunset was lying sideways, and Vince was playing with his opening, rubbing and teasing it, first giving him a finger fuck, and then working his cock inside, causing Sunset to moan with passion.

While Sunset was sandwiched between them, his lazy, lust-filled eyes opened, and he saw the bed surrounded by fire and instinctively knew that it was the fires of hell. Male whores seemed to be crawling up out of the hole and peering over the bed, watching as the three cowboys fucked each other. Their lascivious smiles and half-open eyes told Sunset that they were fucking themselves while watching.

They’re not here. It’s impossible. It can’t be happening.

And then suddenly Vince’s cock plunged into Sunset’s ass, causing him to cry out in delight. The three of them writhed, fucked, and sucked on each other’s flesh until finally, Sunset spewed out his creamy substance while Chick pulled away and immediately began to crawl up Sunset’s body. Once he covered him, his lips met Sunset’s, their tongues meeting in an impassioned mating. Sunset was in heaven while Chick and Vince fucked him. Slowly the sensations began to mesh, and he knew he was coming to a wild and heavy climax. He moaned loudly. Coming closer and closer, his body bucked and bounced until he finally burst like a lusty fountain. While the warmth continued to melt through him, he held Chick close, kissing his face and neck like an over-amorous lover.

“Was it good for you, Sunset?” Chick whispered, his wet breath playing on Sunset’s face.

“Oh, God, yes,” he answered.

Just then a mighty grunt came from Vince as he spewed into Sunset’s ass.

The three cowboys lay spent for a time, and then got up, crept out, and went to their own beds. Sometime in the night, Sunset woke up. When he couldn’t get back to sleep, he got up and wandered outside. He sat down on the stoop of the porch and looked up into the star-studded sky, thinking how his life had changed in three years.

In his time he’d seen miracles, heard God’s voice, preached thousands of sermons, been tempted many times by the devil—and then his wife was killed by a gang of men in black. That’s when all hell broke loose. He felt like a balloon that God had let go of, releasing the air and causing him to fly off in all different directions.

The dark urges seemed to grow and surfaced slowly. Nothing, not even his wife’s body, gave him the satisfaction he craved like a cowboy’s ass. Now, tonight, he saw the devil’s whores reaching up out of the lake of fire he’d preached against almost every day of his holy life. Was it a warning, or was it proof of what he’d become—a soulless sinner bound for hell?

Just then he looked up and saw Chick walking toward him.

“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”

“I was thinking of my wife.”

“Sunset, the faster you get her out of your system, the easier all this will be on you.”

“Look, it wasn’t her fault she couldn’t satisfy me. I loved her, and when you love someone, it ain’t all that damned easy.”

“I’m sure you loved her, but love can hide a multitude of sins…if you want to call it a sin. Did she know about you?”

“No, but she would’ve found out eventually. At least this way she was spared the hurt.”

“You’re right. Now do yourself a favor, and don’t worry about it anymore.”

He was silent for a moment and then looked up at Chick. “You know, it seems like I’ve seen Vince somewhere before. Every time I question him, he seems to get uncomfortable. It’s like he’s holding something back. Can you tell me anything about him?”

“The name Vince Michaels doesn’t mean anything to you?”

“No, but you have to remember that I lived in a different world. My world was my ministry, and that’s pretty much all I thought of, besides my wife, of course.”

“Your wife,” Chick repeated in a whisper.

“What was that?”

“Oh…nothing.”

“Look at me, Chick,” Sunset said.

When Chick turned his face toward Sunset, he saw something mysterious in his eyes. They seemed to hold a darkness that lived deep in his soul. “There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

“If there is, it’s not my place to tell you.”

Sunset’s eyes naturally fell to his full, seductive lips, and remembered how they felt on his. But now that young, handsome face was full of shadows. Somehow he knew both Chick and Vince had a secret they weren’t telling. “What is it, Chick? What are you holding inside you?”

“I can’t, Sunset,” he said, and tried to change the subject. “It seems we share a common heritage, me, you, and Vince.”

“What do you mean?”

“The outlaw and the gunslinger.”

“You mean me? Look, Chick, we gotta get one thing straight. I ain’t no gunslinger. Sure, I have a fast draw, but I don’t go around killing people for profit.”

“Sunset, a man ain’t a gunslinger because he calls himself one. He’s a gunslinger because they call him one.”

“They?”

“Yeah. Them out there,” he said, indicating to the rest of the world. “You might deny it every day of your life, but if they say you’re one, baby, you might as well accept that fact and get on with your life.”

“Hell, Chick, a man can’t be a preacher one day and a gunslinger the next. Now, I don’t give a prairie dog’s ass what they say. I ain’t one!”

“Sunset, I don’t care how much you deny it. You’re one of us now. Sure, you’ve come a long way since your preachin’ days, but that’s all over. Now you’re livin’ in a different world. It’s called the world of the outlaw. We all live there, and we’re all after the same thing…a quick buck.”

“We?”

“Sure. Rustlers, cattle thieves, bank robbers, anyone who makes money at the point of a gun—these people are outlaws. Outlaws have to thrive in lawless territories. They find easy prey in poorly policed prairies, and can hide from the law easily for weeks or even months in remote canyons and hideaways like this one.”

Sunset felt a chill. “You and Vince…you’re outlaws?”

“Vince is the outlaw. I’m just along for the ride. I can’t believe you ain’t figured it out yet.”

“Are you tellin’ me the truth?”

“Why the hell would I lie?”

Sunset jumped up, and with a frightened look on his face, he ran toward the well. “Oh, my God,” he said, leaning over it and looking down into the black water that resembled his soul.

“Hey,” Chick said, getting up and following Sunset. “It’s nothing to get excited about. Vince’ll talk to you about it when he thinks you’re ready.”

Sunset turned and looked at him as if he were on fire. “You’re both hiding something. I can tell.” He grabbed Chick. “I want to know. I want to know who the hell I’ve got myself mixed up with.”

“Hey,” Chick said, gingerly removing his hands from his shirt. “It’s Vince’s place to tell you, not mine. If he hasn’t told you yet it’s because he has to be sure you’re one of us. If he decides not to, he’ll tell you to ride on. If he does, then it’ll be because he trusts you.” Chick’s dark eyes glittered like broken shards of glass when he added, “And that’s a trust you sure as hell don’t want to break.”

Sunset looked closely at Chick, trying to see past his glittering black eyes. He hadn’t noticed it before, but they looked a little shrewd, cunning—even deceitful. From the first, Vince had looked familiar to him, and now Chick seemed familiar, as well. Was it because they were notorious? Had he seen wanted posters with their images on them—their names?

“I guess I’ve given you a lot to think about. I’ll let you hash it around for a while, but don’t lose any sleep over it. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Sunset watched him leave, wondering what the “big day” was that he was talking about.

The rest of the night was spent trying to figure out where he knew them from, and all he could see were five men in black. Faces with kerchiefs, eyes dark—no. One had luminous blue eyes, and his gun glittered in the sun as he raised it and began shooting. He was a devil in black—a gunslinger that pointed his gun right at him—but he shot in another direction. By the time it was all over, he turned around and saw his dead wife’s body lying in her own blood. Had the snake with the blue eyes shot her? He had been standing there wide open. Any one of them could have shot him. Why didn’t they? He looked around. Everyone was dead except him. It had been a senseless killing. Why had God let this happen? This question had been bothering him ever since the day at the gravesite where he buried not only his wife, but his faith.

Those eyes had haunted his dreams ever since. The blast, the smoke from the guns, his wife crumpling helplessly to the ground, her blood gushing from her body. He remembered running to his wife’s side. When he discovered she was beyond help, he looked up at the gunslinger, and saw him pull his kerchief down before he rode away. With the horses kicking up dust all around, he had gotten only a mere glimpse of his face—and the spider tattoo on his neck!

Sunset gasped. Oh, my God, it was Vince!

Chapter Five

The next morning when Vince got up, he opened his door and saw Sunset sitting in a chair gazing hard at his door. His head was slightly lowered, his eyes licked fire, and the gun he held in his hand was pointing at him.

He sat there like a rock. Unmovable—and waiting.

Vince knew he was in trouble. Bad trouble. The kind of trouble that ends your life. Did he know? Who had told him? Chick? Or maybe he guessed. And then suddenly he saw himself sitting on his horse, pulling his kerchief down from his face. He thought he was far enough away that he couldn’t be recognized, but Sunset must have seen him. Maybe not at first, but over time, as the incident played and replayed in his mind, it must have all come back to him.

“Mornin’, Sunset. Had any coffee yet?”

“I’ve had coffee, and I’ve also had a revelation.”

“A revelation. That sounds like the kind of thing a preacher would say.”

“I ain’t no preacher no more, and you’d better realize that real quick…before you find a bullet between your eyes.”

“Tell me, Sunset, what’s happened between last night and this mornin’ to make you suddenly want to kill me?”

“You killed her! You killed my wife! Out there before God and everybody, you killed her!”

“If I remember right, she had a gun pointed at me.”

“She didn’t have no gun. She didn’t own one. I was the one you was after! I stood right there in your line of fire, and you shot her! Why?”

“The sun must’ve been in my eyes. Sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry? That’s all you gotta say after killin’ my wife? Sorry?”

In anger, Sunset cocked his gun.

Vince stopped pouring his coffee when he heard the dreaded cock of Sunset’s gun. Looking up, he said, “Put that thing away. You know you’re not gonna use it.”

“You don’t give a damn, do you? You don’t even care that you shot a defenseless woman. A woman who never did nothin’ to you.”

A sudden flood of anger filled Vince up. “She did nothin’, is that what you’re sayin’? Nothin’?”

“Yeah, nothin’!”

“Oh, she did something, all right. Somethin’ I could never forgive her for!”

Sunset’s eyes narrowed. “You forget, Vince, I was there.”

Vince glared at Sunset. “She took you! She traveled with you, she slept with you, she enjoyed your body every night…and I had nothin’.”

“She was my wife, for God’s sake!”

“Don’t you get it? Hell, I’ve been in love with you from the moment I saw you. Even when you used to come through Rogue’s Canyon settin’ up them tent revivals you used to give. I’d see you workin’ around there with your shirt off. God, how I wanted you! When seven o’clock rolled around I was there every night to listen to you preachin’ hellfire and damnation to all the sinners.”

Sunset gave a mirthless snort. “A lot of good it did you.”

“I wasn’t there to get saved, Sunset. I was there to see you. To imagine what it would be like to fuck you ‘til I was blind. That was heaven to me.”

“You fuckin’ devil,” Sunset hissed.

The last time you came through there, I had been hired by Cassidy to run the homesteaders off his land. When you stepped in, Cassidy ordered your death. I couldn’t do it. The day the showdown came, a lot of bullets flew on both sides. When I saw your wife, I knew how easy it’d be to gun her down. No one would know which bullet killed her. I hated the bitch. I hated thinkin’ about you and her together, so I unloaded on her.”

“But you didn’t know about me then.”

“Oh, yeah, I knew. You see, I used to watch you behind your tent until I got this idea about payin’ off Clay Bentley and goin’ in his place. That was the night I knew I was in love and had to have you for myself. It was my lucky day when Cassidy contacted me and asked me to run them homesteaders off his land. After it happened, word went out that your wife had been shot. The first thing I knew, they sent a new preacher in your place. Nobody seemed to know where you were, or what happened, so I kept my mouth closed and my eyes and ears open. And then I saw you at the Oasis. Hell, I knew the minute I saw you.”

“What the hell was it you thought you knew?”

“That you was hungry, like me. Hell, I could see it all over you. Oh, sure, you hide it at first, and then you meet the right one…one just like you, and you fuck each other. Then you know. For you, it started with all them nights out behind the tent. Your wife couldn’t satisfy you, so you started lookin’ around. You found yourself lookin’ at cowboy’s asses, smellin’ their scent, and imaginin’ what it would be like to fuck the hell out of ’em. My God, Sunset, you were never meant to be with that woman. You were meant for me.”

“I’d sooner be with a snake.”

“Is that right? I don’t believe it.” Vince put his coffee cup down and went over and got on his knees before Sunset. Slowly, he reached out and took his gun. “We fucked, Sunset, and it was pure heaven. Just like I knew it would be. Now, you’ve got to admit that didn’t just happen by chance. We were lookin’ for each other. In fact, we been lookin’ for each other for years. Now, don’t you see why I had to get rid of the only thing that kept us apart?”

Sunset’s gaze slowly rose, and as their eyes met, a tear crept down his cheek because he still felt a strong attraction to Vince and hated himself for it. After learning the truth, and what was behind it, he still wanted him. “You bastard,” he whispered. “You son of a bitch.”

“Fine. Call me all the names—”

“I’m not talkin’ about you. I’m talkin’ about me.” He reached up and wiped at his tears. “I’m in hell, Vince. I loved my wife and almost went crazy when she died, and now I’m fuckin’ the snake that killed her.” Hearing the words come out of his own mouth ripped him apart inside. With the pain sore and throbbing, he lowered his head, and his shoulders shook as he cried. Finally lifting his head, he looked into Vince’s eyes and felt less of a man than he ever had. With that feeling eating him up, he shoved Vince aside and went to the door. After yanking it open, he stopped suddenly. Without turning around, he said, “I’m gonna need some time. I’m movin’ back to town. When…if I come back, it’ll mean…it’ll mean it’s all behind me. But I can’t do this now. Not now.” And then he walked through the door and slammed out.

“Hey!” Vince shouted as he jumped up from his knees and ran outside. “What do you mean, you’re leavin’? I trusted you, Sunset. One word to the right people is all it would take. How do I know you won’t go spillin’ your guts to the sheriff?”

“Because I gave you my word. I might not have much left, but my word is solid.”

* * * *

Sunset stayed drunk for days. He haunted saloons, flirted with the saloon girls, and even fucked them just to prove that he could. After a while they all began looking alike. An arrogant swagger, a bold, suggestive smile, eyes that when he looked into them reflected a deep well of misery. The money he left them always caused a brief smile, but he knew that even money couldn’t give them what they needed. Once he would have told them they needed God, but today he had no such message and wondered if their misery equaled his. As time went on, one faceless saloon girl after another flitted by him, one pretty much like the other, until he finally gave up and nursed his drinks in silence.

And then one night he saw a couple of cowboys standing at his table looking down at him. Without looking up, he asked, “Ain’t you two afraid to show your faces in a public place?”

“Come back with us, Sunset.”

* * * *

Suddenly, from behind, Vince felt his gun snatched from his holster. He was just about to turn and see what was going on when a pair of strong hands grabbed him and stuck the barrel of his own gun in his ribs. “What the hell is this?” he said.

“You’re under arrest, Vince,” the sheriff growled. “I’m throwin’ both you and your partner’s ass in jail.”

He looked over at Chick and saw him in the clutches of the deputy and then looked back down at Sunset. “So you did it. Solid, my ass, Sunset, your word is about as solid as water.”

Sunset stood up, knocking his chair backward. “My word? What about you, Vince? You killed my fuckin’ wife while she was doin’ nothin’ but tryin’ to hide from you. She had no fuckin’ protection and no way for her to defend herself. I thought you were after me, but never in my wildest dreams did I think you were after my wife! Well, let me tell you something, Vince, the hangman’s noose won’t be high enough, or strong enough to please me, and just so you know, it was that stupid spider tattoo that gave you away!”

“You bastard!” Vince yelled while struggling.

“I’ll be there when you hang. Hell, maybe I’ll even ask them to let me pull the trapdoor open!” With his flashing eyes boring into Vince’s, he said, “Take ’em away, sheriff. I’m gettin’ sick just lookin’ at ’em.”

* * * *

For days Sunset paced in his hotel room. It would be weeks before the circuit judge would be coming to Rogue’s Canyon, and he had to stay around to testify in Vince and Chick’s trial. He couldn’t sleep or eat, and at night, when he was hungry for some cowboy’s dick, he thought of Vince and Chick. He felt like dirt. Many times he’d get on his horse and ride as fast and as hard as he could just to try and get the picture of being with them out of his mind.

And then when he’d sunk about as low as he could, he found himself with a gun, standing on a crate outside the jail.

“Pssst!” he called out. When he got no answer, he did it again. Finally he saw Vince looking out between the bars.

When Vince’s gaze lowered and saw who it was, his eyes reflected a look so cold Sunset could almost feel the freezing winter wind circling around his heart. “What the hell do you want?”

Without saying anything, Sunset heaved a gun upwards, and with a well-placed toss, it landed on the ledge outside the bars with a muffled clink. Vince’s gaze shifted. When he saw the gun, his gaze cut this way and that to make sure they weren’t being watched. “What the hell is this?”

“You know what it is. Take it, and get out of there.”

“Why are you doin’ this? You’re the reason we’re here.”

“I’m stupid, that’s why. I’ll probably be sorry tomorrow, but tonight it seems the right thing to do. If you want out, take it and make your escape. If not, I’ll see you around.” Without saying anything more, Sunset furtively crept away, sneaking through the alley until he came to the street. While still covered by shadows, he peeked around the corner wall of the jail to make sure he wouldn’t be seen, and then got on his horse and rode hell-for-leather to Vince’s hideout—and waited.

The minutes crept by, turning to hours. By the time the sun was coming up, he looked out when he heard the gallop of horses’ hooves on the ground. He turned away from the window and began to pace. What the hell would he tell Vince? He didn’t know himself why he did it. They needed to be locked up and hanged for the crime they’d committed, but he just couldn’t let it happen. He kept reminding himself that they’d killed his wife, but somehow—hell, it wasn’t that it didn’t matter, it did, but it seemed so far in the past now. So many things had changed. He was a different man. That day, like so many others, was behind him now, and he had to look ahead. He led a new kind of life—a life that didn’t touch his wife. He felt as if he’d actually died and been reincarnated into who he was now, and this man, whoever he was, led a different kind of life. No longer the preacher, the do-gooder, or the peacemaker, he didn’t really know what was ahead for him, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.

The minute Vince and Chick walked in, they all went into each other’s arms, their hungry kisses wet and sweet with desire, their bodies pressed together. With the welcome feel of their cocks pressing against him, Sunset knew he was lost in a maze of decadence he now called home.

Chapter Six

With a frantic pull at his clothes, and their mad rush for the bed, Sunset could feel passion rising in him like the hottest fire, clouding his brain. His thoughts were swirling. This was what he’d thrown his whole life away for. A hard cock and a firm ass. He couldn’t help but be ashamed of the way he felt, but he couldn’t deny that his lips ached for their kisses, hot kisses that were rough, but still gentle.

He wanted to push them away, but a kiss on his lips and a hand on his cock stopped him.

Flames surrounded him, engulfing him in sinful heat. The feel of their flesh against his was intoxicating, making that heat ripple beneath his skin. In the flush of sexual desire, their eagerness excited him. Their lips sought every inch of his body, sucking, licking, and nibbling until he met their desire with that of his own. And then they began their wild acts of love and wouldn’t stop until every unholy flame was quenched.

He savored the taste of the wild prairie that flavored their kisses, the wild Texas wind that branded their skin. He longed for a tongue with the taste of sin on it, causing another surge of god-awful heat to fill him until it at last burst like an exploding gun. Every thought of resistance fragmented as their hands and lips continued their hungry search of his body. Turbulent passion swirled, hot tide raged, guttural moans roared as they engaged in this raw act of passion. Sunset couldn’t help it. He became lost between their bodies and surrendered to their every touch of his trembling body.

Now, as he lay on the bed with one on each side of him, they loved his body with their kisses, salted with sweat. Their cocks grew and rubbed against his as their lips grazed his body, biting, nibbling, licking, sucking. He abandoned himself to this wild swirl of passion within him and allowed it to draw him into a red-hot hell where every desire he’d ever known was satisfied.

Vince mounted him and lifted Sunset’s knees up high, and rubbed the head of his cock against his hole.

Sunset moaned, anticipating a wild, hot plunge. He clung to Vince, the two of them bucking like the broncos that Vince broke. And then he felt the red-hot plunge and let out a guttural moan. It felt like a hot, fiery rod that increased in dimension until it filled his hole completely. It was like flames bursting, and growing bigger with each thrust. While plunging in and out, Vince moaned in Sunset’s ear, his hot breath almost singeing his face. Finally, he came, flooding Sunset with what felt like hot molten lava.

With lust eating him up, Sunset began writhing around on the bed like a cat in heat. He gasped in anticipation when he felt Vince edge downward and take his cock into his mouth.

Sunset arched and stiffened as Vince licked and sucked him. And then when he felt the back of his throat swallowing his forbidden juices that fell into his throat, Sunset went crazy with desire. He grabbed his head and sunk his fingers into his hair like claws. He began a wild thrust into Vince’s mouth, his cock going in deeper and deeper. He became even more frenzied, his body wet and flushed, and his muscles tense. And then suddenly his cock burst, the cum spewing out in spasms until he lay back, weak and spent. Although he didn’t know where he would get the strength to continue, Vince and Chick were building another fire inside him with their hands and tongues. As they licked and sucked on his nipples, he found himself responding, grabbing Chick and fondling his cock and balls with a titillating rub and squeeze. Finally, when Chick mounted Sunset, Vince rose up on his knees and buried his cock in the crease of Chick’s butt and came again, over and over while he nibbled on Chick’s back. And then he reached down and gave Chick a finger fuck in his ass that had Chick moaning and writhing while his cock and Sunset’s did a dance together, their cocks and balls mating in the dark, humid, intimate space between their legs.

It was the wildest night Sunset had ever known, and when it was over, he looked dreamily up from the tangled bodies and fell asleep.

* * * *

Sunset woke the next day thinking about Vince. He’d learned to love lying beneath Vince, his legs open and his cock and his ass just waiting to be fucked. Sometimes it was slow, but at other times it was hot and fevered. But whatever it was, when their cocks pressed together, it was pure heaven for him. He loved it when he moved slowly and intimately against his cock, bringing him into a sinful place where the sensations rode a dark wave and built to a massive high where he could do nothing but shatter. He loved afterward when he lay close, inhaling his manly scents. Dust, dirt, and sweat never smelled so good as it did on Vince after a long day of riding and roping. He pictured Vince on a bucking bronco, the mastery of handling a wild animal. He hadn’t only tamed his horses. He had tamed Sunset, as well. All it took was a long, hard cock and a pair of lips that curled into one of the sexiest smiles he’d ever seen.

As he lay there thinking, he noticed he was getting hard again and wanted to make love with Vince again. But he wanted it to be just him this time. He wanted to feel the closeness of having Vince all to himself. He wanted to wrap himself around his solid frame and enjoy his body until he fell asleep.

Oh, God, he thought as he closed his eyes and inhaled Vince’s intoxicating odor on the sheets he wrapped himself in. It had happened. He was falling in love with his wife’s killer!

* * * *

Later, Vince and Chick were leaning over a kind of map that was lying out on a crude table beside a potbellied stove. The two men looked up when Sunset walked in.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

Vince glanced over at Chick and gave him a furtive nod.

Chick immediately turned and walked over to the stove for some coffee. “Anyone for coffee?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sunset said. “I’ll take some.” He looked down at the paper and then over at Vince. “Is there somethin’ goin’ on that I should know about?”

“Not unless you want to.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Vince looked up and stared right into Sunset’s eyes. “I mean, we’re scopin’ out the little town of Utica. Now, this here’s big business, Sunset, and I know you bein’ new to our gang might not be ready to go into this with us.”

“You mean, you’re plannin’ a…”

Vince nodded. “We’d like to have you with us, but it might be best if you just looked on from the sidelines this time. We can’t take the chance that you might mess things up. I know you wouldn’t intentionally, but one wrong move is all it’d take.”

“You mean you’re plannin’ a robbery?”

“Not a robbery,” Vince repeated with a girlish mimic to his voice. “A fuckin’ robbery!” he almost shouted with a growl to his voice.

Sunset looked at Vince, feeling as if he was making fun of him, and his anger spiraled. “You stupid bastard! You think you can go into Utica and rob a bank, just the two of you?”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” His gaze jumped from one to the other. “You call yourself a gang? Two stupid jerks who have more nerve than sense?”

“We were a gang!” Vince yelled. “That is until you emptied your gun into three of my men the day your wife died!”

“Don’t bring her into this! And don’t remind me of the darkest day of my life. I’m over it, see, and we ain’t gonna mention it again. Got it?”

“You ain’t over it!” Vince yelled.

“I ain’t over it? Vince, I’m here playin’ house with my wife’s killer for God’s sake! I eat with you, I sleep with you, and I fuck the hell out of you! What more do you want?”

Vince was quiet for a moment as he raked his fingers through his hair and paced around the room. He hadn’t intended to mention his wife to Sunset ever again, but it had been bothering him. Hell, the truth was, he was jealous of a fucking ghost and shot her again and again in his mind. He could tell that Sunset thought of her now and then, and it bothered the hell out of him. He knew he’d never have him completely until the memory of his wife was erased from his mind. But how could he do that? If the bullet that killed her hadn’t done it, what would it take? Would loving him do it? Would fucking him do it? One thing he knew wouldn’t do it, and that was acting like a jealous lover.

“Look,” he finally said. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean to bring her up. It’s just that…” He looked up at Sunset, at his untamed, rugged face, his wild eyes, and his hard body, and said, “I guess I just love you too much.”

Sunset turned away. “I think it’ll be better if I don’t go on this one…or any other for that matter. I may be a lot of things, Vince, but I ain’t no bank robber.”

“No, you just rob poor people of every dime they’ve got by askin’ them to give it to Jesus! Give it to Jesus, my hind leg. You’re a bigger robber than I ever thought about bein’. Them people gave you their life savings, and you gave it to a cowboy you met in a dark alley. Hell, you didn’t even see his face half the time.”

“How the hell do you know what I did?”

“I was one of them, remember?” Vince looked back down at the map when suddenly he stopped dead still. And then, as if a light had just went on in his brain he looked up and stared at Sunset. “Oh, my God, the answer’s been right here all along.”

“What’s been here?” Chick asked. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“I’m talkin’ about our ticket to the big time.”

“What?”

“Hey, preacher,” Vince said, “if you did it then, you can do it now.”

“Oh, my God,” Chick said, “are you crazy?”

“Sure,” Vince continued. “You’re a preacher. Everyone knows you. And the way you preach, you’d fill the tent every night. Why, I saw you heal broken limbs, open blind eyes, and cast out friggin’ demons. Now, whether it was real or not, I don’t know, but no wonder they were so willing to give you their life savings. Look at what they got in return. Damn, Sunset, you’re worth your weight in gold. Hell, by the time anyone found out, if they found out, we’d be on the trail again to the next town.”

Sunset looked at Vince, his eyes licking fire. “You want me to go and preach to a tent full of people and rob them of their life savings?”

“You did it once, why not now?”

“But I did it because I believed! Sure, maybe I didn’t walk the walk of faith every day of my life, but in my own way, I believed. And then when the tragedy happened I got mad at God. We weren’t simply on the outs. I cursed Him with everything I had and walked away. I not only threw my Bible, my cross, and my rule book in a hole with her. I threw away every ounce of faith I had.”

“You mean it’s all in the grave with her?”

“Not in the coffin, just…layin’ on top.”

“Well, hell, it ain’t gonna do you much good down there, is it?”

“Maybe not, but that’s where it is.”

“It’s okay. We’ll…we’ll get it back.”

“It won’t work, Vince. I was a member of the Full Gospel Association. My name was on a list of itinerate preachers that traveled through the West, bringin’ the gospel to the people. We believed in the salvation of a man’s soul and the miracle of laying on of hands.” Suddenly he raised a hand and shouted with a trembling voice, “We were G-o-o-o-o-d’s people!”

“Oh, my God, look at him,” Vince whispered to Chick. “It’s just like it used to be. Sunset Carson could call fire down from heaven.”

Sunset slumped down into a chair. “God, how I miss it. I didn’t realize how much until now.”

“This is the answer, Sunset,” Vince said as he knelt before him. “You go do the thing you love, and we all get rich.”

“But I’d be prostitutin’ my gift.”

“Hell, Sunset, what were you doin’ before? You robbed the donation plate every night payin’ out money to a bunch of faceless cowboys for a cock ride in a dark alley. Why is now different than then?”

“B-Because…well, I thought I was doin’ it for God.”

“Your fuckin’ cock was your god, Sunset. Don’t you get the picture yet? You were doin’ it for yourself and your fuckin’ cock!”

“But it was different then…somehow.”

“It’ll be different now.”

“They’d never take me back. My reputation with the Full Gospel Association is ruined. They think I fell from grace, and well…I guess I did.”

“Don’t they have preachers that go out on their own? What do they call those that don’t have some kind of Association behind them?”

“Independents.”

“What is the advantage of going that way?”

“You can preach your own beliefs instead of those of the Association.”

“Well, there you are,” Vince said. “That’s it. That’s the answer.” Suddenly he rose from his knees and began to pace while stroking his chin. Finally he stopped and turned to Sunset. “Do you still have all your…well, your tent, your podium, and your songbooks? They must be somewhere. You sure as hell didn’t throw those into the hole after your wife, did you?”

“They’re stored in a barn close to the Pecos River.”

“Hell, that includes both Mexico and Texas. What’s it near?”

“It’s on the Texas side at Seminole Canyon. It’s easy enough to find. There’s a shack there that I stayed in for the three years I was there. I don’t even know if it’s still standin’.”

“We’ll have to go and find out,” Vince said and then turned to begin his pace again while raking his fingers through his hair. “Chick, round up everything we need to make the trip.” Suddenly, he grabbed the map and tore it to shreds. “We can forget this. We don’t need it anymore. You’re gonna preach our way into a fortune.”

Sunset sat there watching Vince, wondering if there was a scripture somewhere in the Bible that warned against preachers that spoke with a forked tongue.

Chapter Seven

Sunset Carson

Preaching here tonight!

Come One, Come All!

Bring the lost, the sick and the lame!

The first time Sunset saw it, he couldn’t believe it. During all the days that he preached, he had never put up a sign like that one. Sure, they had flyers made up that they posted all over town, but never anything like this.

“What the hell is all of this?” he asked when he found Vince. “Banners, pennants, you got this place lookin’ like a circus.”

“Hey, you do the preachin’. I’ll do the promotin’.”

Now, as he looked through a small parting in the tent at the people who streamed in to hear him preach, it all seemed so familiar. The music, the platform, even the atmosphere had a familiar feel. It had always been his practice to get down on his knees and pray just before he went out, but why bother? God would only spit in his face, he was sure of it. He finally moved away, picked up his Bible, and started to go out, but he just couldn’t. Not until he spoke to God, just like he did in the old days. He knelt down on one knee, lifted his eyes toward heaven, and said, “God, I won’t take up your time since I know you ain’t got no use for me anymore. And I don’t blame you. I know I been bad…turnin’ my back on you, and everythin’, but I was awful hurt when you took my wife. Anyway, I’m back now, and if you’ve a mind to, I just wish you’d use me out there tonight if you can. Well…thanks for listenin’.”

Just as he stood up, Vince ran in and handed him a box. “Here it is.”

“What is it?”

“Just some things you said you needed.”

Sunset took the box and slowly opened it. When he saw what was inside, his eyes grew wide. “My God, Vince. Where…” He looked up at Vince. “There’s only one place you could have got this.”

Vince smiled. “You’re right. I dug up her grave and took these things out.”

“You…d-dug up her g-grave?”

“Hell, I had to. You said you needed ’em.”

“But why in God’s name did you do that? You could have gone and bought ’em at any general store. You bastard! You know what you’ve done? You’ve desecrated my wife’s grave!”

“Hell, Sunset, why are you gettin’ so excited? I didn’t do anything. I didn’t open the casket. I covered her back up. No one will ever know.”

“I’ll know, you…You don’t have any idea what you’ve done, do you? No idea whatsoever! You know what I ought to do? I ought to leave this place and let you preach the sermon!”

“Sunset, you’re gettin’ all excited over nothin’.”

Sunset didn’t know what to do. On one hand he had people he didn’t want to disappoint waiting for a sermon, and on the other he had a jerk who thought nothing of digging people up and robbing their graves. He turned and caught a look at himself in the mirror. He looked like he always looked before a sermon. With his guns on and fire in his eyes, he looked like a hellion that was gunning for the Devil. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t go out there feeling like this, but he had no choice. The people would see his anger and think it was directed toward the Devil. They would be right, but the devil in this case would be Vince Michaels. With a broad turn, he put his cross and his handbook in his pocket, grabbed his Bible, and headed for the door. Suddenly, he stopped. “This ain’t over, Vince.”

* * * *

At the beginning of a revival, Sunset always took an unconventional way of entering the tent, and tonight he came running up the aisle, jumped up on the platform, and turned to his audience, who were clapping their hands at his surprising entrance. He quickly opened up his Bible, lifted it up toward the ceiling, and shouted out, “Who out there come to hear about Jesus?”

The people all over the tent shouted. “I did, preacher!”

He lowered his Bible, leaned over his pulpit, and pointed to different ones. “Are you saved, brother? Are you saved, sister?” After several answers, he said, “God don’t have room for drunks! He don’t have room for gamblers! He don’t have room for prostitutes! And he don’t have room for those that defile the marriage bed!” His blazing eyes looked from one to the other. “Does that include you, brother? Does that include you, sister?” Coming out from behind his pulpit, he stood on the edge of the platform and held his Bible up high. “The answer is in this book.”

He paced across the platform for a few seconds, looking at the congregation with fire in his eyes. Finally, he said, “You think I’m gonna tell you about the Bible Jesus tonight?” He shook his head and put the Bible aside. “No. I’m gonna tell you about the man, Jesus.”

Every head in the audience turned, mumbling to each other.

Sunset’s sharp, lightning gaze jumped to each one. “I see there’s some out there who think I’m crazy.” He did a little dance and then turned to his audience. “Well, maybe I am!”

Laughter rumbled.

“I’ll tell you one thing. I’m crazy in love with Jesus!” He came off his platform and walked among the people. “He was a man like you and me,” Sunset said, almost in a whisper. “He had desires and temptations, just like you. He got hungry, and he ate. He also slept, and yes, he even wept.” He pointed at a man he knew to be the town drunk. “Jesus even took a sip of wine every now and then. He mingled with those that others hated. Tax collectors, harlots, dirty, sweaty fishermen. And you know what? He was criticized for it. But he didn’t care. He had something to give. And everyone knows when you got something to give, you go to those who need it, not to those who don’t.”

He looked over at a row of saloon girls. “The harlots needed it. Oh, they loved Him. Why was that, you might ask? It was because He treated them like ladies. No other man ever did. All anyone else wanted was their bodies. All Jesus wanted was their souls.” Suddenly, he raised his voice and shouted. “The criminals needed it, the cheaters, and the devils of that time, they all needed it. And you know what? Everyone under the sound of my voice needs it!” He ran back up the aisle and jumped on his platform.

“What is Jesus givin’ away, you might ask? Well, tonight he’s givin you glory in your soul! He’s givin’ away eyes to see with, limbs to walk on! He’s givin’ away His love and His salvation! He’s givin’ you a place in Heaven! Now, are you gonna take it, or are you gonna sit there like a bump on a log and say no to Jesus!”

* * * *

Vince slowly walked into the tent at the back of the congregation, getting close enough to watch their eyes. They seemed almost mesmerized. They watched every move Sunset made, from the way he paced along the platform, to when he dramatically walked among them in the aisle. Sunset wasn’t a preacher that stayed separated from the people. He liked to walk among them. Like Jesus did, he’d heard him say. His movements were broad and strong, his eyes sparkled, and every woman in there was in love with his handsome, rugged profile—and even some of the men.

“Do you think Jesus was a weakling?” he shouted, his bellowing voice daring anyone to disagree. “Well, he wasn’t! Who else but a real man could do battle with Satan? Could anyone but a real man go down and burst Hell wide open?” He ran to the podium where his Bible lay and flipped it open, but he almost lost it when he saw a few grains of dirt roll down the pages, reminding him of the desecration of his wife’s grave. Quickly composing himself, he shouted, “Jesus yanked them keys from Satan and set His people free!”

“Look at him,” Vince whispered to Chick when he heard the loud applause. “My God, he’s got a kind of magnetism. He’s even better than I remember. Hell, he could probably have his own religion.”

The two stood in silence as Sunset continued to preach about Jesus the man and watched as streams of people walked down the aisle. Vince thought Sunset was smart to pick such a topic for his sermon. Who in his right mind was gonna say no to Jesus? They watched as Sunset prayed the sinner’s prayer for each and every one, and how he laid hands on those who needed healing. Instead of talking to God in reverent prayer, Sunset shouted at Him, almost demanding that he heal these poor blind sinners with scales on their eyes.

“Make them see, Lord!” he shouted. “Like Saul on the road to Damascus, take the scales from their eyes, and make them see!” He looked down at the man, and slowly took his hand away from his eyes. “I command you to see, brother!”

The man’s eyes fluttered open, and suddenly his face began to shine. Sunset stepped back. He’d seen it before. It was a holy shine. A shine that showed that God had healed him. The man jumped up, a big smile stretching his lips. “I can see, preacher! I can see!” He turned and looked around, and around. “I can see the people…children…men…women!” And then he turned and looked up at Sunset. “And you, preacher. Oh, my God, I can see you! I never knew what a handsome man you were.” Suddenly, he knelt down before him. “Thank you!”

“No!” Sunset shouted, raising the man up off his knees. “Don’t bow before me. It was God that healed you. You go home, kneel before God, and thank Him! He’s the miracle worker here, not me.”

Vince could see the passion in Sunset, the faith, and…my God, was that tears he saw in Sunset’s eyes? Were these people really healed, or did someone plant them in the congregation? He looked over at Chick. “Did you plant these people in the congregation?”

“Huh? What are you talkin’ about?”

Vince didn’t answer. He just looked away, knowing it wasn’t Chick. Suddenly, Vince got scared. If this was the real thing, then it was serious. God—or someone was performing fucking miracles. Did it make good sense to fool with a god who could strike them down with a single blow?

And then he remembered he was an atheist.

* * * *

When the evening finally ended, Vince and Chick were in a back room counting out the donations while Sunset undressed and looked into a mirror that reflected his hated image. He bowed his head and began crying. What the hell had he become? He lifted his eyes and looked again at his reflection, and became so angered, he took his brush and threw it at the mirror.

Vince came bursting in at the sound of shattered glass. “What happened?”

“I don’t like what I’m doin’.”

“Sunset, don’t get cold feet now. We got almost eight hundred dollars! Can you believe it? Eight hundred!”

“The bank’s got more.”

“Fuck the bank! Why risk our lives if we don’t have to? Hell, Sunset, if we do this every night, we’ll be rich in no time!”

“Sure,” Sunset shouted. “It’s not you out there on that platform night after night cheatin’ them people out of their life savings!”

“How the hell is now different from then? Weren’t you doin’ the same thing then?”

“After I sent a portion of it to the Association, the rest was mine to use as I saw fit. Maybe I did use some of it for—” He couldn’t say it. “—but most went to pay expenses. When those people gave, they knew it was to further the gospel of Jesus Christ!”

“Jesus Christ, my ass! Those people out there wouldn’t know Jesus Christ if he came in and danced a jig on the pulpit! Hell, Sunset, they probably think you’re Jesus Christ! You saw that blind man tonight! He worshipped you with his eyes!”

Suddenly, Sunset blew up and hit Vince, sending him crashing into the furniture.

Vince sat up, working his jaw back and forth. “You bastard!” he shouted. “You ain’t turned your back on God at all. Your faith is just as strong as it ever was. You just took a little vacation, that’s all.”

“I guess that means the frontier preacher is back!” Sunset shouted.

“Somethin’ tells me he never left.”

“Look,” Sunset began, “I don’t know what happened to me that day at my wife’s grave, but I know one thing. You ain’t turnin’ me into a drawing card for your greed.” He pointed toward the empty tent. “I saw miracles out there tonight! I saw salvation enter men’s souls! I saw Jesus use me just like he did before, and if you think I’m throwin’ all that away just so you can line your pockets with their life’s blood, you’re as crazy as you look!”

“You all right?” Chick said, running in.

“Yeah,” Vince answered. “I guess I just shouldn’t have let myself get mixed up with a…Christian!” He turned back to Sunset. “Do you know where you’d be right now if it wasn’t for me?”

“Somewhere preachin’ the gospel!”

“Yeah, you’re right. And after that you’d be out in back of the tent fuckin’ some cowboy’s ass.”

“At least I wouldn’t hate myself.”

“Oh, yeah, you’d hate yourself all right because you’d still be carrying around a load of guilt that would kill a lesser man. But you are what you are, Sunset! Don’t you understand that? When I came along, I picked you up off the ground, fucked you with a ten-inch rod, and showed you what it was like to be with a man.”

“You also got me here! Cheatin’, swindlin’, and lookin’ like a fool! Well, I ain’t a fool no more. This is where it ends, Vince. You go your way, I go mine!”

“Yeah? Who you gonna get to fuck your ass, Sunset?”

Sunset turned his back on Vince and lowered his head in his hands. He had no answer, and the pain inside him felt like a knife piercing his heart. He wanted Vince. He even thought he might love him. He didn’t want him to leave, but God was pulling at him on one side, and Vince was pulling at him on the other. He knew that sometime tonight he would be burning up with need, and only a cowboy’s ass could make it go away. But what could he do? He couldn’t stand the thought of cheating those people. Hell, maybe he had been a little dishonest with their donations in the past, but it wasn’t for his profit. It was for his pleasure. And he couldn’t help it. He had a need inside him—a drive. And it was still there. No man was perfect. He knew that. Everyone sinned a little in his life. You couldn’t live on this earth without sinning.

God knew that—but Sunset knew it most of all.

Chapter Eight

The next night when Sunset was in the pulpit, he noticed a man sitting off to the side writing something in a notebook. He tried to ignore him, but he became curious about what he was writing. He didn’t look like the usual reporter that was constantly dogging him. They dressed more like easterners with bowler hats and wire-rimmed glasses. This man dressed like a gambler you might see on a riverboat. He had dark hair and skin, and long sideburns that met his light beard and continued along his jawline. He wore a vest, coat, and a cravat instead of a tie, and didn’t have a speck of dust on him. His clothes were expensive and totally out of place among the dirty cowpokes, drifters, and poor farmers that filled the tent. Since he’d never seen anyone like him before, Sunset wondered if he might be from New Orleans.

That night Sunset preached with his usual passion, looking into the faces of men and women who thought he was a god. “We talked about Jesus, now let me tell you about his forgiveness…”

His words faded when he looked up and saw a cowboy with a heavy scowl on his face walking down the aisle. He immediately stopped preaching. “What do you want, cowboy?”

“You want to tell ’em about Jesus’s forgiveness? Go ahead. Tell ’em, Sunset. Save ’em from sin! Lead ’em to salvation! Tell ’em about everything, but not about your whiskey and your lovers! Your cowboy lovers!”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, stranger.”

“No? Why don’t you tell ’em about your little rendezvous out behind this tent. I’m sure that’ll interest ’em. After that, tell ’em how many nights we’ve spent together, Sunset. Me and you.” He looked around at the congregation. “I’m one of his boys, you see. He’s good, too. Any of you cowboys out there lookin’ for a bed partner, well, you can’t go wrong with Sunset Carson! He’ll keep…”

The cocking of Sunset’s gun was like a blast in the heavy silence of the tent, making the cowboy’s words fade, and his head jerk around to where Sunset stood with his guns drawn and threatening.

“You want a fight, cowboy?” Sunset said. “I’ll be glad to oblige you.”

The cowboy looked at his guns and turned white. He slowly began backing up and pointed at Sunset. “It’s true, Sunset. Everything I said is true, and you know it!”

Sunset said nothing, only pointed the barrel of each gun, and fired two bullets into the ground where the cowboy stood. Cocking his guns again, he backed him up steadily until the cowboy reached the parting of the tent and quickly turned and ran.

Putting his guns back in their holster, Sunset turned and began walking down the aisle. “I know you saw and heard everything that went on here tonight, so I’ll remind you of Jesus’s own words to the people when they caught a woman in adultery.” He hesitated, cut his gaze around, and said, “He who is without sin cast the first stone.”

A heavy silence followed as Sunset continued down the aisle. He walked tall, his stride wide and confident. He expected boos and insults to follow him, but instead he was surprised when the people rose from their seats and applauded him. He didn’t accept or deny the things the cowboy said, he simply left it to the people whether they believed in him or not. In the meantime he refused to bow his head in shame. After all, God had put him in the pulpit, and the people would either reject His choice or accept it.

When Sunset jumped upon the platform, he turned and shouted one word. “Unforgiveness!” While pacing along the platform, he continued. “It is an ugly word that tastes bad on the tongue of a Christian. We must keep in mind that no man on earth is perfect, and if we can’t learn to forgive, we are unlovely in the eyes of God.”

“Amen!” someone shouted.

From there he began preaching a sermon about the woman caught in adultery, actually bringing stones into the tent and allowing the people to throw them at a dummy he had made up beforehand to demonstrate his sermon. The people were totally amazed as they saw the painted up floozy, bound to a crude whipping post, slowly wilt to the ground as if she were dead. It had made the Bible come alive to them and was a dynamic way to demonstrate unforgiveness, which was a sin in the eyes of God.

After putting on his usual bold performance, Sunset was standing around talking to a few people who crowded around him to offer their words of admiration and to shake his hand. When he finished his conversation, he turned to go, but was quickly approached by the reporter who had stood at the sidelines, waiting for him.

“Excuse me, sir,” the man called out. “May I have a moment of your time?”

Sunset turned and saw the man walking toward him.

“My name is Russ Maddox. I work for the Boston Globe, where we’ve been hearing some extraordinary things about you. I was hoping to get an interview.”

Sunset was taken by the man’s looks. He was very handsome, with dark eyes and thick lashes that feathered almost seductively. His neat mustache hovered over a mouth that only slightly hid white teeth that seemed to sparkle. Sunset couldn’t help but think that this man was almost too clean, and very husky for the clothes he wore. It seemed as if he would be more comfortable in the usual jeans and boots of a cowboy.

“Is that why you were taking notes?” Sunset asked.

“Yes. I hope that’s all right. I can always destroy the notes if you don’t agree.”

“I have no objection to you writing about the service, but I’ll be leaving in a couple of days. I hope you can get what you need in that time.”

“Sir, it’s you I’m interested in. I would like your permission to write about your life.”

“My life? Why would you want to do that?”

“Why? Because you’re the man behind the miracles.”

“The man behind the miracles? No, I’m sorry, but I’m not the man behind the miracles. God, he’s the man behind the miracles. You’ve heard of him, haven’t you? Jesus Christ? I’m nothing but his vessel.”

The man laughed. “Yes,” he said, nodding his head. “A very humble attitude. Give all the credit to an invisible force.”

“Invisible force?” Sunset said loudly. “Invisible force, my ass! He’s God, creator of all mankind! I’m nothing but a vessel He chooses to use!”

“But, Mr. Carson, you don’t understand. I’m not writing a religious piece here. I’m writing about a man, bold and strong, whose very name means power, strength, and honor! A man with a Bible in one hand and the power of God in the other!”

“Look, Maddox, I’m just a frontier preacher who travels the circuit preaching the gospel. I’m sure your readers will find it very dull.”

“Mr. Carson, do you realize how famous you are?”

“Famous? Me?”

“Yes. Word of your exploits has made it all the way to Boston. I’m not here simply to write about some nobody preacher who preaches watered down sermons. I’m here to write about the man who spits in the devil’s eye. The man who fears nothing, the man who dares to preach with a six-gun in one hand and the Bible in the other. You’re that man, Mr. Carson. You’re the rogue preacher I want to write about.”

“What did you call me?”

“Rogue preacher. That’s what they’re calling you.”

“A rogue, isn’t that someone who…”

“Someone who steps out of the mold others have placed him in. Someone who dares to go against the majority, someone with the grit to do what he wants instead of what others expect—”

“Please, don’t,” Sunset said, waving his hand. “I don’t do what I want, Mr. Maddox. I do what God wants. Maybe my style of preaching is a little different than the eastern preachers, but it’s necessary. Try to see it the way I do. First of all, the Bible is an old book. It’s been preached about, sung about, and read time after time, year after year, and you still see the same old words, the same old message, every time you read it. Sermons are the same. If I’m going to save people, I’ve got to make it as fresh and interesting as I can. My little demonstration here tonight was to involve the people in God’s word. Give them a firsthand knowledge of how it must have been back then. Do you think for a minute that anyone here will ever forget that sermon? They won’t, believe me. Simply because I didn’t give them words or scriptures they had heard all their lives, but because I let them live it! They saw it demonstrated! Now it’s in their minds and in their hearts. And who knows, maybe the next time they see a prostitute they’ll be a little bit more forgiving.”

“You’re good, Mr. Carson.”

“Well, I do the best I can, but sometimes the troublemakers make it a little hard.”

“Is that why you wear those guns?”

“I wear these guns to protect myself and my congregation. I might seem a little bold and reckless in your eyes, but being from the East, you may not realize how wild this country is.”

“May I quote you?”

He shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Now, Sunset…uh, may I call you Sunset?”

Sunset nodded.

“If guns are necessary, why don’t all preachers wear them?”

“I don’t know. Whether they do or not is their business. But if they don’t, they’re fools.”

“You may be right, but the picture here is conflicted. On one hand you preach love, but on the other you carry a gun, putting out the message that you’re ready to kill if necessary. Doesn’t the Bible say, ‘Thou shalt not kill’?”

“I don’t wear them to kill, Mr. Maddox. As I said before, it’s only for protection.”

“The fact is you’re a new breed, Sunset. A preacher who handles himself like a gunslinger. A preacher who wears a gun while he’s preaching is not normal, especially a preacher who calls down miracles from heaven with a gun hanging on each hip.”

“Mr. Maddox…”

“Russ, please.”

“Russ,” Sunset continued, “a preacher in this part of the country that doesn’t wear a gun is soon a dead preacher.”

“Possibly. Of course, I’ve seen those that have them close by, but never one that had them hanging around his hips.”

“They probably think that the presence of a gun will ruin their message.”

“I’m sure it would for some preachers, but it doesn’t seem to ruin yours. In fact, a lot of people come just to see you perform and then stay to get saved. I’m sure your god doesn’t care what gets them here. He only cares how they leave. Wouldn’t you say?”

“My God?”

“I’m not a religious man, Sunset. Oh, I’m not against religion. I’ve just never seen the need for it. I will say that if I ever did get saved, I’d like it to be with someone like you.”

“I suppose that’s a compliment.”

“Indeed it is, sir.”

“Tell me, Maddox. If I let you write this story, what would I have to do?”

“For the most part, I will observe you night after night until I get what I need from your present-day ministry. After that I would like you to tell me what led you to the ministry. You know, tell me about any ‘burning bush’ in your life, or voice from God. In other words, how did you get your calling?”

“I was a young man of about eighteen. My pa told me to go and get a job. I tried, but no one would hire me. Tired and discouraged, I looked up into the sky and talked to God about it. Being a kid, I senselessly asked Him to hire me since no one else would. He did, and I’ve been working for Him ever since.”

“I’m sure you’re oversimplifying it, sir. It must have been more dramatic than that.”

“It was, but like most reporters, you’re not looking for a story. You’re looking for sensationalism.”

“Like what?”

“Like what happened here tonight.”

“But that’s a reporter’s dream. Surely you wouldn’t ask me not to print it.”

“Why wouldn’t I? He accused me of some awful things, and to see them all twisted up and sensationalized by your pen would be suicide. You’re nuts if you think I would let you print that.”

“But why? He was just a troublemaker. You see them every night.”

“Because there won’t be a grain of truth in it. You’ll blow it up, making it sound worse than it was. That’s what reporters do, isn’t it?”

“Sunset, I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. I have more integrity than that. I won’t write anything you don’t want me to. I will, however, reserve the right to ask you questions when I need to.”

Sunset gave him a thoughtful look. Finally, he said, “All right. You can write about me if you want, but only as it pertains to my present-day ministry. Nothing else. I don’t want my past mentioned, and I certainly don’t want any of the things you heard here tonight to show up in your article. You can write about anything that goes on in this tent, whether it be miracles, salvation, or even the occasional troublemaker, but that’s where it ends. If you lie, or stretch the truth in any way, I’ll see that you never write again. Is that understood?”

“It is, and thank you.”

“I’ll say goodnight, then.”

As Sunset gave a swift turn and headed toward the back, Russ Maddox’s gaze followed him. He felt something in his groin when he watched the preacher’s confident swagger, and gave his cock a subtle squeeze. The man was as sexy as sin. If what the cowboy said was true, Russ couldn’t leave without giving Sunset Carson a try.

* * * *

Vince stood at the tent opening, watching as Sunset talked to the stranger. He didn’t like the way he kept writing in his notebook, and wondered what Sunset was telling him. He saw Sunset finally turn away and saw how the man watched him as he made his way toward the opening. Suddenly, he wished Sunset didn’t walk with such a sexy swagger or stand tall and strong as his guns hung seductively along his hips. Did he see an interest in the man’s eyes?

“What was that all about?” he asked Sunset.

“Nothing you’d be interested in.”

“Don’t give me that. Tell me. I want to know.”

“I’m telling you it was nothing. The man writes for the Boston Globe and was interested in writing about me.”

“You? What did you tell him?”

“I told him it would be okay as long as it was just about the services and nothing else.”

“I don’t like it. If he comes snooping around here, he might find out more than he bargained for.”

“He’s not going to find out anything, so just relax.”

“You wouldn’t tell him anything, would you?”

“I don’t have to. You saw what went on out there tonight. He knows as much as I do.”

Vince felt a chill ride up his spine. Sunset had been quiet here lately, and a little standoffish. Vince knew what that meant. It meant that he might lose Sunset to his so-called god. He knew of only one way to hold on to Sunset, and that was with his body. Sunset was flesh and blood. God was a myth, a fairy tale, a feeling.

For the first time, he wondered how many other cowboys out there might be attracted to this dynamic man who held them all in the palm of his hand. Like a silly woman who wanted to hang on to her unfaithful man, Vince decided he would have to keep him satisfied with sex. He never wanted him to have an excuse to go anywhere else for what he needed, so he would have to make himself available to him every night.

* * * *

Sunset needed the sex he shared with Vince, but as good as it was, it made him feel like two people. One part of him a sinner, the other a saint.

The sinner couldn’t say no. When he felt his body burning with need, he surrendered to Vince’s seduction. It might only be a licking tongue, a suck, a nibble on his nipples, or even a kiss or a nuzzle on his neck and shoulders, but it didn’t matter. Tonight, when he felt Vince lightly scratching the inside of his leg, all the way up to his thighs, he closed his eyes and waited until he reached his balls. It made him crazy. He writhed, his body urging itself upward for more, his cock growing large and hard with desire.

And then suddenly Chick was beside him nibbling his ear, his wet breath almost singeing his skin. Slowly, he made his way along his face until he found his lips, where he gave him a deep, soul kiss. His tongue moved around, expertly alternating the rhythm of the kiss. It was such a beautiful thing, Sunset felt like he was in heaven. He inhaled Chick’s scent, his rugged, manly elixir setting him on fire. During the kiss, Sunset’s passion rose, and he clung to Chick, taking his bottom lip in his mouth and sucking it, his tongue rubbing it seductively. The two of them moaned, their hot, humid breath mingling intimately. Slowly, Chick lowered himself and began to explore Sunset’s body like a newfound treasure. He grazed it with his open mouth, sucking and licking passionately while Sunset’s cock became harder and harder, anticipating a hot, sucking mouth. Now, as Chick leaned in and licked his balls, Sunset felt his lips move slowly toward his cock. Finally, with his mouth as wide open as he could get it, he began to eat the head of his cock, his sucking tongue rubbing, caressing, the deep, dark erotic movement giving Sunset shivers of delight.

Sunset had never felt anything like it. His emotions reeled. The more Chick gave him, the more he wanted, until at last he felt his cock flirting with an orgasm. In his passion, he reached down and grabbed Chick’s head, and thrust himself into his mouth as deep as he could get it, while Chick worked feverishly to bring him to the brink. Finally, the lusty tide broke upon him, causing him to spew into Chick’s mouth with a sigh and a moan.

While Sunset lay limp in the afterglow of his orgasm, Vince crawled up Sunset’s muscled body, took him in his arms, and whispered his love into his ear. While he held him, he inched his hands behind Sunset’s ass and squeezed, and then began to rub his cock against Sunset’s. Sunset writhed, naturally lifting his legs around Vince when he felt Vince push his fingers into his hole and stretch. When he was finally ready, Vince plunged himself in and began to ride him while Sunset rode with him, moaning out his delight. While Vince rode him, Chick crept up behind Vince and began fucking his hole, and the three of them rode the last mile into hell.

The next night the saint was back out on the platform shouting, singing, and preaching the gospel once again, his sins still hidden from everyone—but God.

Chapter Nine

While holding his notebook and pen securely in his hand, Russ Maddox strolled into the tent. He looked round for a seat, but when he couldn’t find one, he joined the dozens of people who stood in the back. Only a few minutes had passed when a long-legged man that looked more like a gunslinger than a preacher appeared with a shout. By now he was used to Sunset’s unorthodox entrances, but it never failed to put a smile on his face and rob him of his breath. He began to write hurriedly, but could hardly describe what he saw. Making one note after another on his pad, he watched as the preacher boldly walked across the platform, gesturing wildly, leaning toward them and looking into their eyes as if he were talking to each and every one.

He made it personal, and the people were eating it up. He, along with the people there, hung on Sunset’s every word while he preached a rousing sermon. He watched as he strutted across the platform, sometimes talking to God, and even talking to the Devil. Maddox was convinced that he knew how to get the people excited. As he preached, his sermon would reach one crescendo, and then quickly begin building toward another while the people shouted out their amens and hallelujahs, many standing to their feet, the power of God everywhere.

The preacher was just about to call the people forward to be saved when a young cowboy stepped out of the crowd. Standing tall, his presence was daunting. With his hand hovered over his gun, he shouted out with a strong voice. “Can you shoot that gun, preacher, or is it just for show?”

The preacher’s words faded. When he saw the threat standing alone in the aisle, he stood tall with his legs wide apart and his frock coat back, revealing both guns on each side. Looking about seven feet tall, he glared down at the boy, anxious to meet him head-on. “You don’t want to find out, boy.”

“Boy? I ain’t no boy. I’m a man as big as you are.”

The preacher said only two words. “Prove it.”

The whole congregation watched the boy as he stood there, his frightened gaze shifting from one to the other.

“C’mon, boy, draw,” the preacher challenged. “Show me how much of a man you are.”

The people began to shuffle backward, giving the preacher and the foolish young boy room.

Maddox could see the boy’s hand trembling as it hovered over his gun. He knew the boy hadn’t expected him to call a showdown. He expected a soft, patient voice trying to talk him out of drawing, maybe even a terrified preacher spouting Bible verses and salvation. Instead, he faced a black-clad giant with a gun resting on each hip. A gun-slinging preacher who wasn’t afraid of anything—not even the devil. So he sure as hell wasn’t afraid of this boy.

And then suddenly the boy’s hand moved. He was going for his gun! But before he could even touch it, the preacher already had his out and was pointing at him.

“Bang!” the preacher said sarcastically while the crowd laughed.

As the boy’s face flushed red with embarrassment, he grabbed his gun in anger, but before he could shoot it, the preacher shot it out of his hand, and he dropped it. “You bastard! Look what you’ve done!”

“Hey, you pointed a loaded gun at me, boy. What the hell did you expect me to do? This ain’t no game. You point that gun, and you gotta be prepared to take the responsibility of standin’ behind it.”

“But my hand, it’s—”

“I see it. It’s bleeding.” He looked up at the crowd. “Could someone go and get the doc?”

Suddenly, a man scooted out of the crowd. “I’m a doctor.”

While the boy was being helped by the doctor, Sunset knelt down beside him, and asked, “What the hell did you think you were doin’? You don’t go around waving a fuckin’ gun in the face of someone and not expect them to defend themselves.”

The boy began crying. “Leave me alone, you son of a bitch. You shot my gun hand. I’ll never be able to—”

“Did it keep you from breathin’?” Sunset shouted. “Did it stop your heart? Hell, no! Look, kid, if you keep goin’ down the road you’re on, you’re gonna come to a dead end. And the one that’ll be dead is you.”

“I didn’t expect you to shoot me, or even draw on me.”

“What the hell do you think these guns are for? My God, did you think I’d just stand there and let you kill me?”

“But you’re a preacher, for God’s sake. Preacher’s don’t go around shootin’ people.”

Sunset glared hard at the boy. “This one does.”

Once it was all over, crowds of people streamed down the aisle, including the young boy who had had the devil driven out of him at the point of a gun. Russ Maddox continued to scribble one sentence after the other, telling his readers that this amazing frontier preacher by the name of Sunset Carson had faced unbelievers, the demon possessed, and even the sick and the lame. He did all this while exalting the name of the God who poured miracles down on the congregation.

It was a night he would never forget.

* * * *

Later, when all the people had left, the grounds around the tent were dark and silent. As Russ Maddox walked the empty grounds, a chill crept up his spine when he heard the tarp as it snapped and whipped in the wind. He was searching for something—anything—when he saw a dim, undulating light shining in a window. He carefully sneaked up to it, making sure he couldn’t be seen, and stood silently, listening.

Sunset was getting ready for bed when Vince looked up from counting the donations and said, “These damned troublemakers are beginnin’ to worry me, Sunset. I think you’re too easy on ’em. If you’d kill a couple of ’em, word would get around that you ain’t gonna put up with no funny stuff.”

Sunset turned and looked at him. “You mean to tell me, you think I should have shot and killed that kid out there?”

“Why not? It would’ve been self-defense. He went for his gun first.”

“Vince, he can’t be more than eighteen years old.”

“If he’s old enough to wear a gun, he’s old enough to die!”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Hell, Sunset, killin’ is killin’, no matter how old they are. If they’re old enough to carry a gun—”

“My wife didn’t have a gun, and you killed her!”

“Hey, will you get over that? You know—” A gasp sounded from the window, and Vince jerked his head around. “What was that?” He ran toward the window and looked out. “Nothin’, I guess. Must’ve been my imagination.”

Sunset kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed. “Hurry up and get that counted. I’m tired.”

Vince turned from the window, walked over to Sunset, sat on the bed beside him, and reached beneath the covers. “Hey, you ain’t too tired for a little fun, are you?”

Vince’s touch was like fire. He gazed down at Vince’s hand as it stroked his body, bringing it alive. “Vince, I don’t think…” he began, but suddenly Vince was grasping his cock. The minute he touched it, he leaned over Sunset and covered his lips with his own. Sunset cursed himself when he felt himself become aroused. He wanted to push Vince away, but his body wouldn’t let him. “You devil,” he whispered. “You know how to get to me, don’t you?”

Vince pulled the cover back and lay down beside him. “You ain’t mad at me, are you? You looked really good out there tonight. I’ll bet we pulled in at least five hundred, and maybe more.”

Sunset said nothing as he surrendered his hungry body to Vince and received his kiss. Every place that Vince touched him felt like fire. It was as if a flame was stroking his body, causing him to melt inside and out.

“What do you want, baby, my hand or my mouth?”

Sunset said nothing as Vince held his cock tightly and rubbed it from the tip to the root. God, it felt good! Wanting more, he turned to face Vince and clung to him, his hips moving against his hand, the fiery sensations taking him upward, higher and higher. He could feel himself getting more and more excited until Vince took his hand away and pressed his cock against Sunset’s. Both cocks grew and twitched in a carnal mating dance. Finally, Vince crawled on top of Sunset while ungodly sensations flared. Their cocks were still mating in this sinful dance when Vince opened his mouth and raked his tongue over his chest, his tongue sucking and licking, causing Sunset to writhe like a hungry beast. Lust roiled inside him while he buried his fingers in Vince’s hair, and parted his legs, inviting Vince to take his ass.

* * * *

Hearing the squeaking springs, Russ Maddox stood up and peeked in the window. His eyes widened when he saw the preacher in bed with the man he had accused just moments ago of killing his wife. Knowing this was too good to let pass, he hurriedly opened his notebook and began writing. What developed was the blazing story of Sunset Carson and his night of sex with another man—his wife’s killer!

Chapter Ten

Just then a loud sound was heard, and both Vince and Sunset turned to see Chick standing at the door, watching them, with angry sparks flying from his eyes. “Starting without me?” he said sarcastically.

“What’s the matter, Chick?” Sunset asked.

“I’m sick and tired of being left out!” He pointed toward Vince. “He gives me these stupid jobs to do to keep me out of the way, and the first thing I know he’s in here with you, and you’re in bed together.”

Sunset looked at Vince. “Is that true, Vince?”

“So what?” Vince said. “He’s been with you any number of times without me.”

Sunset looked at each of them. “I can’t believe this. You’re fighting over me? I thought this was a mutual arrangement.”

“It is,” Vince said. “It’s just that…well, someone has to take care of these things, and Chick is good at it.” He gave a light shrug and looked at Chick. “Hey, man, I’m sorry if you think we’ve left you out, it’s just that…” His words faded as he got up to dress. What he wanted to say sounded stupid, so after raking his fingers through his hair, he said to Chick, “All right, hell. The truth is I’ve been trying to keep Sunset satisfied. He’s been making sounds like he’s not happy, so I’ve just been…I don’t know, trying to keep him happy.”

“So that’s it,” Sunset said as he jumped up from the bed. “Keep the sideshow freak happy, and there won’t be any problems. Right?”

“Sunset, we got a good thing goin’ here, and I’ve seen the way them people look at you out there, especially the men. They think you’re a god, damn it. All we need is to have some lovesick cowboy make a play for you.”

“Yeah? And what if he did? You think I don’t know how to say no?”

“Well, if he’s good lookin’…”

“Hell, Vince, we’re arguin’ over something that ain’t even happened yet, and probably won’t. And even if it did, this kind of thing happens all the time. It don’t mean a thing.”

Vince turned to Chick. “Chick, tell him. You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess. I agree with Sunset, though. I think it’s nothing but…I don’t know. Preacher-worship?” He looked over at Vince. “Sounds to me like you’re comin’ down with it.”

“Me?” Vince laughed.

“Yeah, you. You’ve had it ever since you first heard him preach. You say you’re in love with him, but I think all it is, is preacher-worship.”

“You’re nuts.”

“Well, I’m tired of this,” Sunset said, and after putting on his guns and boots, he turned and stomped out. “I’m goin’ to get a drink.”

“Sunset, you can’t go into town.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t have people seeing you take a drink.” Vince quickly threw on his clothes and then reached down and pulled on his boots. “Nobody knows me. I’ll go and get you a bottle.”

“Hell,” Sunset said as he threw his shirt down and sat back down on the bed. “I wasn’t this careful before. I don’t know why I have to be now.”

As Vince ran out, he said, “I’ll be back later.”

For the first time since he’d met Sunset, Chick felt timid in his presence. After spending a few seconds trying to build up his courage, he broke the awkward silence and said, “So, what is it, Sunset? You don’t like me because I’m not as good lookin’ as Vince?”

Sunset looked up at him. “Who said I didn’t like you?” He smiled. “Don’t you remember the lake in Rogue’s Canyon?”

“You’ve come a long way since then,” Chick said as he ambled over toward the bed and sat down. As he reached over and put his hand on Sunset’s thigh, he said, “I can see what Vince means.”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“Do you remember Windy Hollow? It was our first stop, and the first time I ever heard you preach. It was really something the way those people took to you. I couldn’t believe it. I hate to say it, but Vince’s got a good point, you know. I mean about other guys. Didn’t you ever have anyone fall in love with you when you preached before?”

“Sure, I had my share of admirers. Where do you think I got my lovers? When I saw the way they looked at me, all it took was a wink and a smile and they did exactly what I wanted them to.” Sunset gazed down sadly. “So, you see, my sin isn’t only in the act itself, it’s also everything that went with it.”

“Everything that went with it? What do you mean.”

“You know. The seduction, and even the act itself. Hell, stealing from the collection plate was bad enough.”

“Why did you think you had to pay them off? Hell, they liked you. They would’ve done it anyway.”

“Well, it was more to keep them quiet than anything else. All I needed is for one word to leak out, and my ministry was over.”

“You were hungry. Too hungry to think about what you were doing.”

“It’s funny what your body can make you do.”

Chick looked at Sunset with a certain gleam in his eyes. “That’s all over now,” he whispered. “Sunset, I’d like to make you happy, too. Vince isn’t the only one who can do that. Besides, in the time I’ve seen you preach, I know how easy it is to fall in love with you. Seeing you up there, so handsome and…”

“Chick, you’re not in love with me. You mentioned it before. It’s only…what did you call it? Preacher-worship?” He chuckled. “For want of a better word to describe it, I guess we’ll have to call it that.”

“Hell, Sunset, I don’t care what it is. All I know is it’s come upon me slowly. Even before you began preaching. I love you, damn it, and I really would like to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much.” Chick leaned closer to him and touched Sunset’s lips with his own. “I want to fuck you, Sunset,” he whispered, and began to undress. When he was naked, he mounted Sunset and pressed their cocks together in a loving and caressing fashion. Their passion rose slowly while Chick whispered in Sunset’s ear. “Are you hungry?”

“Hungry?” Sunset asked.

“Hungry for my cock. You ain’t never eaten me, Sunset. God, I’d love to bury my cock in your mouth.” He looked down at his mouth. “It’s your lips. They’re so full. I love to lick them, feel their plumpness in my mouth, and I’d love to feel them on my cock. God, I’m gettin’ hard just lookin’ at ’em.”

With a wicked smile on his face, Sunset turned Chick over and began to love him all over with his tongue, his teeth nibbling him and his lips sucking him.

Chick lay back and closed his eyes, floating through an erotic hell as Sunset kissed his way down his body. When he finally reached his cock, Sunset’s mouth opened wide, and he took the delicious cock into his mouth and lovingly sucked it.

“Ohhhhh!” Chick moaned. “Oh, God, Sunset. Eat the damned thing.”

Chick’s cock throbbed and twitched as Sunset began his shameless tasting, teasing, and biting, while his tongue rubbed, pressed, and licked it like an erotic lollipop. When Chick couldn’t stand it anymore, he buried his fingers in Sunset’s thick hair and held it steady while he thrust his cock in and out, working toward the wild sensations that before had only flirted with him. Now as they moved toward an intensity that promised a hot and wild orgasm, his hips moved in abandon. His inhibitions fled as he feverishly thrust in and out of Sunset’s mouth. And then finally, with a scowling face and a melting warmth, they embraced him, causing him to moan and sigh, and his wild and terrible thrusting to at last rest.

He lay back, feeling like a limp dishrag as Sunset moved upward, watching him. While Chick lay still, Sunset lay beside him, his own cock still hungry. With a nudge, he pushed Chick on his stomach, lifted his ass, and began to caress it, and then leaned down to suck it with his mouth. He wanted it so bad, so after sinking one, two, and then three fingers into his hole to stretch him out, he took his cock, rubbed the head against it, and then with a single thrust pushed himself in. His breathing was rapid, hard, and whimpers escaped his throat as he felt himself rising upward toward that special place. While he pushed in and out, he reached around Chick and lovingly caressed his cock and his balls. He could feel them getting hard, and knew Chick still had a good fuck left in him, so he worked his cock hard as he continued to fuck his ass. He was in heaven when he heard a deep moan escape Chick’s mouth, and then felt his stiff cock rub against his hand. He began to get wild with his thrusts into his ass, and as he continued to handle Chick’s cock, his breathing became ragged and hot, as his passion mounted. With a slack jaw, he continued to work over Chick’s ass, going as fast as he could, and then suddenly he felt a sticky substance spewing into his hand. Just as Chick had come, he also felt himself on the brink as one sensation after another broke upon him. And then it happened. His face grimaced as he burst into the red-hot hell of wicked pleasure.

As they lay together on the bed, Vince came into the room. The satisfied looks on their faces told him what they had been doing. “Is this why you got rid of me? You wanted to fuck each other?”

Chick gave Vince a shrewd gaze, and said, “Yeah. How does it feel?”

Vince gave Chick a killer look as he threw the bottle down on the bed. “From now on you get the whiskey.”

“Nobody asked you to go get that bottle of whiskey,” Sunset said. “You volunteered, remember?”

“Well, I ain’t gonna get it,” Chick said. “I’m through bein’ the errand boy around here.”

“Well, how do you like that? The puppet thinks he’s a boy.”

Chick jumped up off the bed and would have plowed into Vince if Sunset hadn’t stopped him.

“Now, look, you two. If you’re gonna fight all the time, then this ain’t gonna work. Both of you knew when we started out that life on the road ain’t easy. Hell, we’ve only been to three towns and already you two are at each other’s throats. If you can’t settle your differences, I’ll have to send one of you home.”

“Send one of us home?” Vince yelled. “You’re talkin’ like you’re the boss of this outfit. This is my gang, not yours. Hell, only a few weeks ago you were actin’ like a scared virgin. And now you think you’re takin’ over?”

“You little weasel,” Sunset shouted. “We’re playin’ in my backyard now. If you doubt it, just ask yourself, Vince. Who draws the crowd? Whose name is it out there on that banner? Who is it that brings the money in here that lines your pockets? We both know the answer to that, so I’d advise you to get the hell out of the way and let the real boss through!”

“Well, I’ll be damned. I would’ve never thought it’d happen.”

“That’s your problem, Vince. You don’t think.”

“C’mon, Chick, let’s get out of here and see how the preacher does on his own.” Vince turned quickly, but Chick didn’t follow. Vince suddenly stopped and looked back at him.

“One of us needs to stay, Vince.”

“If you’re a member of my gang, Chick, your place is with me.” He looked over at Sunset. “He’ll come runnin’, just like he did when he had us arrested.”

Sunset went over to the safe and opened it up. As he stood there, he counted out the money and then handed each one of them their cut. “Sorry it had to end like this. Goodbye,” he said, and left the room.

Vince looked at the way the tarp swung back and forth after Sunset had gone through it, and began to get suspicious. Had Sunset met someone else? Why was he so damned hot to end this relationship if he didn’t have someone else in the wings? He suddenly thought of the good-looking man Sunset was talking to the other night. Expensive suit, a card shark’s eyes, and a fancy cowboy’s gun belt hanging around his hips. Not a speck of dirt on him. Maybe Sunset was tired of sweat and dirt. Maybe he wanted a little sweet toilet water with his sex.

Chapter Eleven

Russ Maddox worked by the light of one lamp as he took his book full of notes and put together the sizzling exposé of Sunset Carson. He knew without a doubt that what he’d written would ruin Sunset. Three men—three outlaws—lived on poor people’s money while living in sin together. And that wasn’t even the end of the story. The twist was the men Sunset lived and slept with were the men who shot and killed his wife. My God, could there be anything worse?

He recalled the night he talked to Sunset and couldn’t believe he didn’t even know how famous he was. His was a name that was known all over. Synonymous with religion, miracles, salvation. Hell, when the people thought of God, it was Sunset’s face that came to their minds.

He had lied to Sunset. He was really writing this story because a group of men called the Full Gospel Association wanted Sunset Carson out of the pulpit. Knowing his reputation of writing sensationalism, they hired him to dig up as much dirt on Sunset as possible so they could use it against him.

In his mind’s eye he looked back about a week ago and saw a man with thick, white-gray hair, a mustache, slim, and richly dressed, pacing in a long room while puffing on a cigar with smoke circling his head.

His name was Hyde Pendergrass, and he was the head of the Full Gospel Association. He had called a meeting, and Russ sat there with several others watching him pace while he waved his cigar in the air, and spoke with a rasp. “He lost his faith years ago, and now he’s running around as an Independent!”

“So?” Russ said. “Maybe he found it again.”

“It’s not only that,” Hyde persisted. “He’s gone completely off the deep end preaching his own gospel. The bad part is the people eat it up. When we try to send anybody else out to them, the people don’t even acknowledge them. They want Sunset. It’s absurd!” He looked around at the others. “Can you imagine? The Gospel According to Sunset Carson? Hrumphf!”

“This ain’t gonna be easy,” Russ said. “I’ve been to some of his services, and I’m here to tell you, Sunset Carson is as hot as a pistol.”

“I don’t care how hot he is. He’s dangerous. He’s a rogue preacher who has pulled away from the Association to preach his own gospel. Everybody knows his wife died, and he uses that to play on the sympathy of the people. Do you have any idea how much money Sunset makes when he passes the collection plate?”

“No,” Russ said. “Do you?”

“Plenty,” Hyde said and then looked around at the question in everyone’s eyes. “I have my ways,” he said and sniffed.

“Mr. Pendergrass, I’ve been to some of Sunset’s revivals, and for my money, he’s the real thing. I doubt if I’ll find anything.”

“You’re a writer, aren’t you? You’ve got an imagination.”

“You mean…lie?”

“It’s not wrong. It’s for the sake of the people. He’s a false prophet, Mr. Maddox! You stop a false prophet any way you can.”

“In other words, even if he is honest, I have to think up something that’ll make him dirty.” Russ frowned. “That’s doesn’t make sense, Mr. Pendergrass. If he’s honest, why not let him continue to preach? Isn’t he doing God’s work? You know…saving souls, performing miracles—?”

“I don’t think he performs all those miracles. I think he plants them in the audience and pays them for pretending to be healed.”

“How about the baby the lady brought in to him?”

Mr. Pendergrass frowned, and looked over at Russ. “Baby? I don’t remember any baby.”

“A woman brought in her baby to be healed. The baby happened to have a high temperature. The doctor that accompanied her said he had the measles. Sunset prayed over the child, and he was healed. His temperature immediately began to cool, the rash disappeared, and he stopped crying. The doctor and the woman, and many of those in the audience knew the woman, and knew her baby was sick. How do you think Sunset managed to get the baby to cooperate?”

“I don’t know, but you can be sure he managed it somehow. He is, after all, a genius.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do this, Mr. Pendergrass. I believe Sunset Carson is a great preacher, and every one of you is just jealous of his success.”

With a shrewd sneer on his face, Pendergrass leaned over, and pushed something forward until it was right in front of Russ.

“What’s this?”

“It’s the fee for your services.”

Russ’s eyes widened. He didn’t know how much money was there, but it was a stack of bills so high it made him dizzy. When he reached out, took the stack in his hands, and flipped through it, he had only one thing to say. “I’ll leave on the six o’clock train.”

As Russ made his way home to pack, he knew it was an impossible assignment. Sunset Carson was the most dynamic preacher he’d ever heard, and he knew it wasn’t going to be easy to find any dirt on him. For some reason this situation triggered something he had learned in Sunday school as a kid. He seemed to remember another man the authorities tried to get rid of by ridiculing him, beating him, and then hanging him on a cross. The miracles that came out of that obscurity changed the world.

Ridiculous. Sunset Carson might be good, but he certainly wasn’t the Son of God.

Now, as his gaze shifted toward the notebook with its red-hot, scribbled message, he knew he couldn’t let Sunset read the article as he had promised. It was an empty promise, anyway. He’d never intended for Sunset to read it. He knew he would simply slip out of town, submit it to the Full Gospel Association, and wait to hear the explosion. A frown appeared on his face when he thought of how Sunset’s life would be ruined.

So what? Why should I care?

Sunset Carson had done wrong, and now he would pay for it. He could only imagine how his name would be dragged through the mud—of how they would accuse him, spit on him, and even kick him. While considering this, he was reminded of the sermon where Sunset invited the people to do that very thing to the Bible. Who knew it would be his name that the people would trample upon?

* * * *

Later, he stood at the stage depot and bought a ticket to Dallas, where he could catch a train that would take him back to Boston.

“That’ll be five dollars.”

Russ pulled the bill from his wallet and gave it to the clerk when he heard a loud, bellowing voice in the distance. When he looked around, he noticed the streets were vacant. “Where is everyone?” he asked the clerk.

“Everyone’s over at the revival tent. Sunset Carson’s in town preachin’. I’m goin’ over there myself when I get off duty.”

“I see,” Russ replied.

“The stagecoach ain’t due for another couple of hours yet. You might wanna go down there and hear him. He’s real good. Ain’t never seen nothin’ like it. That’s one man that’s got the devil by the horns and is on a first name basis with God.”

“Do you mind if I put my luggage behind your desk there until I leave?”

“Oh, sure. Just hand it over.”

After he got his luggage taken care of, Russ slowly walked toward the tent and looked in. Through the parting in the tent he could see Sunset Carson standing behind his pulpit shaking his head, his unruly hair flinging from side to side as he preached about angels.

“Every one of you has an angel!” he bellowed out. “And that angel ain’t gonna let you out of his sight. There’s Gabriel…by the way, he told me to call him Gabe.”

The crowd laughed at his little joke, but many of them had no doubt that he was telling the truth. Others shouted out their amens and glory hallelujahs as he continued.

“Some of them angels even glitter,” he said to one man as he jumped down off the platform. “You know why?”

“No, sir. Why is that, preacher?”

Sunset’s movements were sheer poetry as he lifted his arm upward toward the sky in a smooth, flowing motion, and then looked back down at the man with a blissful smile on his face. “The light of God is always shining on them. You see there’s all kinds of angels up there. The big ones like, uh…Gabe…and Michael…excuse me, Mike…”

Laughter.

“…are called archangels.” He turned to another man. “Do you know about archangels, sir?”

“No, sir, I sure don’t.”

“Get your Bible out, it’s all in there.” Sunset moved away from the man, whirled around and shouted, “Why should a son of fire bow down before a son of clay? Since none of us were there, one theory is that these are the words Satan said to God when he was required to accept God’s plan of salvation and Jesus’s appointment as the Savior of the world. This resulted in a war! A war in which the archangels fought against the dragon, casting both him and one third of the rebel angels out upon the earth.” He looked from one to the other. “Interesting? Yes, it is. Someday I’ll tell you about it.”

By this time Russ wasn’t listening to the sermon. He had stepped into the tent opening where he could follow Sunset’s movements from one person to another. He talked to them as if he was their best friend, and you could tell they were hanging on to his every word. A rough-lookin’ man like Sunset appealed to Russ. Russ had always been concerned about his looks. His hair had to be just right, and his clothes spotless, but a man like Sunset Carson brought out a side of Russ that made his cock stand up and gasp.

He wanted Sunset.

Especially now that he knew Carson was the same kind he was.

He could only imagine what it would be like to be held in his arms and kissed by his deliciously strong, but gentle, lips. In his mind, he saw him and Sunset on a bed somewhere with their naked bodies touching, pressing, and clinging together. He must have had his eyes closed when he felt someone nudge him. He opened them and saw the clerk standing beside him. “The stage is here, Mr. Maddox. You might want to head back down to the station.”

“Well, thank you, but I find I’m going to be delayed. Is this ticket good anytime? I think I might have to take the next one.”

“Oh, sure. Tomorrow’s stage leaves at ten and then two.”

“Yes,” he said. “Thank you.”

Later, he heard the rattle of the stagecoach as it passed, and looked over at Sunset. As he watched the charismatic man on the platform, he knew he had captured the attention of everyone there with his bold movements and daring words. With those words, he lured every one of them into his velvet web of religion with his music and pulpit antics that he boldly displayed. There was nothing small about Sunset Carson. Every move he made was smooth, almost as if it were choreographed. He preached loud, sung at the top of his lungs, and defied the devil at every turn. He got the people so worked up, he had no doubt that many had walked down that aisle more than once.

Although Russell Maddox was impressed, he wasn’t moved by Sunset’s words. He had something else in mind—seducing the great Sunset Carson.

Chapter Twelve

After the service, Sunset was standing in a circle of admirers, and looked up to see Russell Maddox, the reporter, watching him from a few feet away. After the crowd finally left, Sunset went over to Russell. “Good evening, Mr. Maddox. I assume you’re through writing your article. If so, I’d like to read it if you have it with you.”

With hesitancy in his speech, Russ said, “The article’s been written, but I don’t think you should read it.”

“Why?” Sunset asked.

“Well, it’s…to be honest, you wouldn’t like it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Look, Sunset, I have a few things to tell you. To begin with, I’m…I’m not really here to write an article on you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the Full Gospel Association.”

Sunset cocked his head curiously. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”

“They’re trying to stop you, Sunset. To close your mouth for all time. They want you to stop preaching. They hired me to dig up some dirt on you.”

“So that’s what you’ve been doing creeping around like you have. Digging up dirt. I won’t bother to tell you what I think of people like you. Some stupid little article—”

“You mean exposé, don’t you?”

Suddenly, Sunset’s friendly eyes became cold—as if a storm had suddenly filled the summer sky with lightning. “You can go back to the Association and tell them it didn’t work. I’ll continue preaching as long as the people…and God…want me to.”

“They’re playin’ dirty, Sunset. They sent me here to find some dirt on you, and I found plenty.”

“And just what is it that you think you know, Mr. Russell?”

“For one thing, I know about Vince Michaels and Chick Mason.”

Sunset gave a slight shrug. “Friends.”

“Yeah? Why would a man make friends with the man who killed his wife?”

“Simple. Ever heard of forgiveness?”

“Yeah? Well, that’s a lot of forgiveness.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean sleeping with him, Sunset. How do you justify that?”

“I won’t even try, Mr. Maddox. My relationships are my business, and not yours or the Association’s. They want dirt on my preaching, not my private life.”

“Hell, Sunset. They don’t care where I find the dirt. All they want is to smear your name so nobody will listen to you when you say good morning. They’re callin’ you a false prophet, for God’s sake.”

“And what do you think? You’ve been in several of my services. Do you think I’m a false prophet?”

“I told them what I think, and they don’t care. They don’t care what anybody thinks. All they want is you out of the ministry.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Russell. What do you think?”

“All right. I admit that you’re a fine preacher. I just can’t grasp why you would sleep with the man who killed your wife. I also don’t understand why a preacher of the gospel can get up there night after night and call everyone in the congregation a sinner when he himself is the biggest sinner of all.”

“Who better to preach about sin than a sinner?”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“I wish I did. Only God—”

“You know these people think you’re God, don’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Maddox.”

“Another thing. Why does a good, God-fearing man such as yourself rob these people night after night when you and I both know they can hardly feed themselves?”

“They’re contributing to the furtherance of the gospel. God will reward them.”

“Try again, Sunset. We both know that their money buys whiskey, pays lovers…”

Sunset’s face suddenly became frozen in fear. “Where did you…how did you find out about…that?”

“You’re a famous man, Sunset, and I’m a writer. I don’t need interviews to get the information I need. It’s available to anyone who will pay for it. It just so happens a lot of young men were willing to spill everything for a price. I might have been out a little money digging up the dirt on you, but I’ll make it back, plus a lot more when…if this information goes back to the Association. Since it’s too good a story to let lie, I’m thinking of having it printed up in a little publication known as Penny Dreadful, as well.”

“Penny Dreadful? That rag?”

“By the way, I found out from a young man named Clay that Vince Michaels was one of your so-called boys.” Russell watched as Sunset become more and more uncomfortable. “Quite a twisted little tale we have here, wouldn’t you say? It seems that Vince was also the man who killed your wife. He’s a known outlaw, Sunset. It couldn’t be that you hired him to get rid of your wife, could it? Maybe that’s why you’re providing him a hideout beneath your own revival tent.”

Sunset blew up. “Why you bastard, how dare you stand there and talk to me that way. I loved my wife and would still be married to her if she were alive. I went crazy after she died. I searched for…”

“You searched for, and found, the killer in a saloon in Rogue’s Canyon.”

“I didn’t know who he was. I found out after…”

“After sleeping with him? How convenient.” He walked up to Sunset, stopped right in front of him, and the two shared deadly stares. “Very twisted, indeed,” Russ said.

Suddenly weak, Sunset sat down, wondering how he was going to get out of this, and finally looked up at Russ. “How do you know anyone will believe such a wild tale?”

“The Association will believe anything I tell them. Besides, I think we both know that this is the kind of stuff people eat up. Gossip, slander, libel, you name it. And if the subject is a famous man like Sunset Carson, well—”

“Who are you, Russell? You called yourself a reporter before, but now you’re calling yourself a writer.”

“Reporter, writer, not much difference.”

“Answer my question, damn it!”

“All right. I’m a freelance writer for Penny Dreadful, but it doesn’t pay much. That’s why when the Full Gospel Association came to me with this, I couldn’t turn them down.”

“Since I’ve already been lied to once, I want to see some identification.”

Russ pulled his wallet from his vest pocket and gave it to Sunset with some hesitation. He knew the preacher was about to find out the truth and watched his reaction when he saw it.

Sunset’s eyes widened. “My God, you’re that devil, Lakota Jackson! A dirty, rotten Comanche! I can remember when you led a band of Indians so bloodthirsty—”

“That’s a lie, Sunset. A lie right out of hell. We weren’t any worse than the other tribes.”

“All right, so it was a lie. All I want to know is what the hell are you doin’ writing stories for Penny Dreadful?”

“I’m passin’, that’s all.” He pointed toward town. “That used to be the world of the red man out there, but now it’s the white man’s world, and like everyone else, I’m just tryin’ to make a livin’. This seemed the best way since no one wants to hire an Indian.”

“So you just want to earn a living, huh? What the hell do you think I’m tryin’ to do? Just answer me one question. Why the hell is what I do so wrong, but it’s okay for you to rape, kill, and—”

“We were tryin’ to stay alive!”

“Well, so am I! I know what kind of magazine Penny Dreadful is, and believe me when I say, I feel lily-clean when compared to you. Hell, I could write my own article.” He rose from the chair and gestured wildly with his hand. “Go ahead. Submit your story to the Association, or anyone else you feel like giving it to! But if you do, I’ll send for the best lawyer Boston’s got and sue the hell out of all of you.” He leaned close to Russ’s face. “By the time I’m through with you, you won’t be able to get a job swampin’ spittoons.”

With that, Sunset turned to leave.

“I didn’t say I’d do it, you know.”

Sunset stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly. “What?”

“I only told you who I was, and why I was here. I didn’t say I would use the story. I only said I was thinking of it.”

“To God, a thought is the same as an action. If you look at a woman and lust after her—”

“God, Sunset, I’m tryin’ to talk to you. Will you stop throwing Bible scriptures in my face?”

“So, what’s your decision?”

“Sunset, I think you’re a great preacher. Hell, if you’re conning people, then you’ve got me conned as well. I don’t really want to send this story to anyone. I just don’t know what’s in it for me if I don’t. I could make a lot of money from the Association, but frankly, I don’t think I’d enjoy spending it very much if I knew I made it ruining someone’s life.”

Sunset walked back slowly. “You mean there’s a streak of decency somewhere in that heart of yours?”

Russ shrugged. “There must be. Where the hell it came from, I don’t know.”

“All right, Comanche, if, like you said, you’re not going to do anything with the story, then what is it you want from me?”

Bingo!

“Cutting right to the bone, aren’t you, Sunset?”

“Look, I’m getting a little tired of all this. I think we’ve—”

“Got someone waiting for you behind the tent? I happen to know Vince and Chick have left.”

“If I do, it’s my business. Now, if we have no other business to discuss, you’ll have to excuse me. Like I said, I’m tired.”

Russ said nothing as Sunset exited the tent. Playing a hunch, he followed Sunset until he saw him go into the tent where his quarters were and then moved back into a shadow and waited. After about fifteen minutes, he saw a cowboy walk up to Sunset’s tent. Just as he was about to go in, Russ came out of the shadow. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

The cowboy turned and saw Russ. “I…I just wanted to see Sunset.”

“Did he tell you to come back here?”

“No. I just…I saw him preach, and I thought maybe…”

“It’s okay. You’d better leave before someone sees you.”

Just about then Sunset pulled the tent flap back and saw Russ standing there. “What’s goin’ on out here?”

“I was just getting rid of one of your fans for you.”

“Yeah?” Sunset said, giving him an angled look. “And how is it you just happen to be out here when he showed up?”

“All right. I came out here to see you.”

“I believe our business is concluded,” Sunset said as he turned to go back inside.

Russ followed him in. “Look, I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I just want to be friends.”

“I’ll think about it.” He gestured toward the tent flap. “I believe that is the way out.”

“Damn, I feel like a schoolgirl with a crush.”

“A crush?”

“The truth is I was just about to go back to Boston and give the information to the Association when I heard you preaching. Damn, all it took was seeing you in that pulpit one more time to get me all hot and bothered.” He chuckled. “The stagecoach left without me.”

Sunset looked at him curiously. “You know, you’re beginning to sound more and more like a man with a problem.”

“I’ve always admired you, but that was from a distance. Your picture in a dime novel, a story of a bigger-than-life hero, a puff of wind, a fantasy, a dream. Hell, who knows if any of them are really flesh and blood? But now…seeing you in person. God, you’re hot. So damned hot I can hardly keep my cock in my pants.”

Sunset put his hand over his mouth to suppress a laugh.

“Sure, go ahead and laugh, I deserve it. Hell, I’ve turned into one of them schoolgirls that worship swaggering oafs like Jesse James or Billy the Kid. God!”

“Well, thanks for the compliment. Too bad your swaggering oaf is only a frontier preacher.”

“It wasn’t meant to be an insult. I’m sorry.” He put his hat on his head and then turned toward the tent flap. “I guess I’ll be going. Sorry I bothered you.” He was just about to pull the flap open when he turned back to Sunset. “Oh, don’t worry about that story. It’s between you and me. I’ve decided if that’s the only way I can make money, then I’ll gladly starve.”

“You’re sure you have to go?”

“It seems I remember you saying something about being tired?”

“Comanche, you think you’re the only one who’s been looking? I noticed you the first time you were in the congregation.” He smiled. “I liked what I saw.”

Russ’s smile was a little lopsided. “You did?”

“You were so different than the usual cowpoke or farmer that comes in there that you stood out like a sore thumb. I remember thinking I’d never seen anyone so clean.”

Russ gave a sarcastic laugh. “Clean. Clean thoughts. No dirt anywhere, not even in your mind when you looked at me, huh? I should have known.”

“Comanche—”

“Comanche is not my name, Sunset. Like you said, it’s Lakota.”

“All right, Lakota. I’ve got one question to ask you.”

“Sure, fire away.”

“Would you like to spend the night?”

Chapter Thirteen

“Hell, yes,” Lakota said.

Sunset turned and walked toward a table. “You won’t be writing about this one day, will you?”

“I hope you’re joking.”

Sunset chuckled. “Just checking.” He reached for a whiskey bottle, poured them a drink, and touched his glass to Lakota’s. “To new beginnings,” he said in a hot, husky whisper.

As each one drained his glass and then set it down, Sunset stood quietly, watching Lakota as he began to slowly undress. He searched his handsome face, focusing on his sensuous lips he knew would grip his in a passion unlike any he’d ever known. He was like a dark stranger, devilishly handsome with a pair of dark eyes that held both good and evil. His body gleamed in the dim light, making Sunset imagine what he must have looked like as a half-naked Indian riding his steed into battle. He could almost hear the wild shouts, the yelping, and the growling of the man-animal he had been at one time. The fact that he had lived like a savage only a few years ago made Sunset wonder how wild he could be in bed. He watched as he pulled at his clothes, dropping each piece on the floor, revealing to Sunset a muscular chest covered with crisp, dark hair that dipped low into his trousers.

When Lakota faced him, he whispered, “I’ve waited a long time for this.”

“How do you want me?”

“I want to fuck your ass, but don’t turn away from me. I want to cover you with my body, and as each thrust pushes up inside you, I want to see the passion on your face.”

Sunset moved toward the bed and pulled the cover back. When he crawled in, he lay on his back and reached down to his cock that was covered with bedclothes. As he handled it, the bulky shape showed that it was big and hard. He gazed at Lakota with a smoldering look that was an invitation to take him.

* * * *

Lakota was actually trembling inside. Sunset was the picture of sex. He glanced at his unruly hair, his strong, manly face that had been softened by two dimples, and then shifted his gaze down to his half-covered body, a body of muscled hardness and strength. When he thought of how he looked behind his pulpit, he groaned. He was about to have the fiery preacher and only hoped he could satisfy him. He wanted this to be the first of many nights of love between them. Slowly, he crawled on the bed, and with a blaze of passion pounding inside him, he leaned over Sunset and looked deep into his eyes, his lips coming closer and closer until he kissed him with such hunger it left his mouth burning with fire. And then a blaze of passion exploded between them. It was as if each of them had been breathlessly waiting for this moment.

When Lakota embraced Sunset, the touch of their bodies, skin to skin, cock to cock made a thrilling passion flare up between them. Their lips met in another kiss that was deep and wet and wild. And then it was as if a dam had burst inside him, sending a hot, melting thrill rushing into the pit of his stomach. With sweet urgency, Sunset began to move and grind against his cock, causing such a beautiful sensation that suddenly their cocks were almost embracing, loving each other, moving in synch, creating an intimate dance of wild savagery. Lakota lived up to his name when he growled out his passion, his body writhing over Sunset, his hips moving his cock against him. He wasn’t shy about taking his pleasure from Sunset’s body. His lips grazed along his neck, kissing, biting, and then whispering. “Are you ready, baby?”

* * * *

“Oh, God, yes,” Sunset whispered.

In only seconds he felt Lakota’s hands squeezing his ass and his fingers stretching him out in preparation for his plunge. Sunset’s legs opened wider as he urged himself upward to meet Lakota’s cock that was gently pressing against his opening. His breath stopped when he felt Lakota penetrate him, and he moaned loudly. While madly reeling with passion, he felt Lakota’s lips grazing along his chest, sucking and licking, his breath hot on his chest. As his passion rose, his breath became short and choppy. And then as Lakota began to fuck him, his thrust was deep, hard, and fast, making Sunset roll and sway, buck and push. He met every one of Lakota’s plunges with a fevered thrust of his own, the two bodies clinging together as if they couldn’t get enough of each other. They bounced and rolled until finally Sunset spewed out his passion while Lakota did the same.

Afterwards, they lay looking into each other’s eyes for a time, and then Lakota got up and poured them a drink. “Sunset,” he said as he sat down on the side of the bed and faced him, “when do you leave?”

“Tomorrow night is the last service. The next morning I’ll be pulling out for the next town.”

“What about Vince and Chick?”

Sunset shrugged. “They’re gone. As far as I know they’ll go back to Rogue’s Canyon.”

“Does this mean the three of you have split?”

Sunset looked troubled. “I suppose so. As soon as they left, you showed up, so I haven’t really had time to miss Vince. You might as well know that I thought I was falling in love with him. Chick, he was good in bed, but Vince, he was the one that really mattered to me.”

“What I’m getting at is, now that they’re gone, what will you do? Won’t you need someone? Someone to help with the heavy work, someone to work on the books, do the odd jobs that come up.”

“I need about three people really. Why do you ask?”

“I’m offering myself, Sunset. I can’t do everything, I know, but we can hire help in the towns we go into. Someone’s always looking to earn extra money.”

“You mean you’d give up a thriving career at Penny Dreadful?”

“Don’t make fun, Sunset, I’m serious. To hell with Penny Dreadful, and the Full Gospel Association. I need you to tell me if I have a chance.”

Sunset leaned forward, reached for Lakota, and with his hand on the back of his neck, he pulled him closer and kissed him. “You’d have to keep the boss happy,” he muttered between kisses. “It might mean a lot of late nights and undercover work.” His gaze went from his lips to his eyes. “How do you feel about that?”

“I’ll try to keep up. If I can’t, I guess you’ll have to…punish me.”

Sunset smiled, and Lakota slowly pushed him backwards and mounted him. “Oh, God, baby,” he said. “Being with you is all I ever want in this world.”

* * * *

While they kissed, Sunset clung to him, stroking his back over and over until he became so filled with desire, he lowered his hands and found his ass. He squeezed it, and then opened his legs, and pulled his cock hard against him while he moved his hips feverishly. As they rubbed their cocks together, whimpers and moans escaped their throats. With a passionate thrust, push, and rub, they feverishly ground themselves into each other. Suddenly, he felt Lakota squeezing his ass, his hips moving faster and faster, the two of them hot and fevered as they moved in synch. The sensations rolled and broke like a choppy sea, fueling their desire, making their bodies move toward the place of release. Finally, when the sensation culminated into one gigantic burst, their cream came spewing out like a lusty fountain.

“I’ll never get enough of you, baby,” Lakota whispered. “I think I could go on like this all night long.”

They loved on each other as long as they could stay awake, but finally the two of them fell asleep when the night was turning to early dawn. Sunset woke first and couldn’t get back to sleep, so he began pacing and raking his fingers through his hair. He loved having Lakota there, but even with him here, he couldn’t escape the feeling that somehow he seemed incomplete. As he sat down on the edge of the bed, he lowered his head in his hands.

Where is Vince?

* * * *

Vince felt the chill of air on his naked body and snatched a sheet to cover himself, flushing with embarrassment. He flung his legs off the side of the bed and lowered his head in his hands. Beside him lay a cowboy he’d picked up in a saloon. It wasn’t the first time, but it was always the same. He came out of the experience empty and unsatisfied. For the first time he realized that no one could make him happy but Sunset. Even Chick didn’t seem the same anymore. Sunset had ruined his life. He’d made it impossible for him to be happy with anyone else. He tried to forget, but everywhere he went people were talking about the great Sunset Carson. In the saloons, on the street, and even when he bought a bath and tried to bury himself in hot water and soap suds, the name still rang in his ears.

He had to find him. He had to find him and settle this once and for all. If he missed Sunset, then Sunset must miss him as well. He had to find out. If he did, then maybe they could talk their problems over and get back together. If not, then he’d know for sure that it wouldn’t work. It would be hard, but he would get over it eventually.

Knowing the preacher’s schedule, he knew where he would be in a few days and wasted no time loading his horse up with supplies and starting out. Finally, with a strong nudge to his horse’s flanks, he rode hell-for-leather for the little town of Belle Plain down in Callahan County. When he arrived, the streets of the town seemed to be unusually vacant. But as he rode further, he saw a large crowd of people in a small courtyard right beside the jail. He gentled his horse into a slow stride as he passed and saw a gallows and a man blindfolded standing with his hands cuffed behind his back. Not wanting to watch, he nudged his horse and rode away, but just as he’d gotten a few feet away, he heard the trapdoor swing open and the cowboy drop.

A chill crept up his spine.

He knew the only thing standing between him and a rope was Sunset Carson. It made him wonder if their failed relationship would in any way affect Sunset’s decision to keep his mouth closed. He didn’t relish the idea of asking Sunset about it.

As his horse slowly galloped toward the edge of town, Vince saw what he’d come to see. Several men were running around setting up a tent on a vacant lot. He searched for the tall, beautiful man he knew he was in love with, but he didn’t see him. Instead, he saw another face, and stared. He couldn’t believe it. It was the dark-haired stranger that carried a notepad around with him. Now, he looked tired, his shirt sleeves rolled up and his neat hair tumbling around his face. Slowly, Vince pulled up to a hitching post and dismounted. Carefully stepping into all the confusion, he asked the first man he saw where Sunset Carson was.

“I think he’s in back, but we ain’t supposed to disturb him. He’s studyin’ the sermon he’s preachin’ tonight.”

* * * *

Sunset wasn’t studying his sermon. He was doing something he felt was far more important—he was praying. The truth of the matter was Sunset had at last faced up to what he was. Maybe he could hide it from his congregation, but he couldn’t hide it from God. Besides, he was tired of living a lie and knew it was time he admitted what he was. Only one thing bothered him. He might have to give up his ministry. By accepting it, he wasn’t being rebellious or flaunting it in God’s face. He had simply quit lying to himself.

Now, as he prayed, he said it very simply…

“This is who I am, God. It’s not a sin. It’s a preference, and I can’t go on hiding it in the shadows. If you don’t like me this way, you have the power to change me. I don’t care. I’ll be whatever You want me to be. But please don’t take the ministry from me. I may be different, but I love you, God, and I’m a man who believes in miracles. I’ve prayed for miracles for others, but now I need one myself. It doesn’t have to be a parting of the Red Sea, or anything like that. All I ask is that You give me a sign. That’s all. Let something happen that tells me you understand. Anything, God. Anything.”

His prayers continued on into the evening hours, but when it became late, he wiped the tears from his eyes and rose from his knees. A look at the clock told him it was almost time to begin. With this weight on his shoulders, he didn’t feel like whooping it up like he usually did, but he didn’t want to disappoint anyone, so he began this service the same as he did his others, with a sudden, dramatic entrance—Sunset Carson style.

Chapter Fourteen

That night when Vince walked up to the parting in the tent, he stopped suddenly. There, erected on the back of the platform, was a gigantic cross with a man hanging on it, blood seeping down the crude lumber. He stared at it for several minutes. His gaze seemed to be attracted to it—as if magnetized in some way. And then suddenly Sunset burst upon the scene, and Vince shifted his eyes away and looked at him. For the first time his ears, or was it his heart, seemed to be open to what Sunset was really saying. He described Jesus’s last day on Earth, His all-consuming love, the beating, the death on the cross, the blood—all of it seemed to be so real. It was as if the bloody scene had taken place just for him.

Ridiculous!

Every time he tried to push it away, but it would come back. Images of a bleeding Christ whispering to his heart.

Come!

And then Sunset’s voice cried out, burning his ears. “Everything was for you! He died on the cross just for you! His blood was shed for you! He arose on the third day for you!”

“But why?” Vince muttered. “I didn’t ask Him to!”

“Love!” he heard Sunset shout.

“No! He’s not real,” Vince hissed as he struggled against it. “It’s all a fairy tale, a myth, a story for children and old people. Something to give them hope.”

“No!” Sunset said as if he’d heard Vince’s words. “We have all sinned and come short of the glory of God. Not just a select few.”

Suddenly, Vince felt something happening to him, and a flood of tears fell down his face. He looked up. He knew it was Sunset standing on the platform with his hands raised toward him, but in his mind’s eye, he saw Jesus’s nail-scarred hands raised, pleading.

“Come!” Sunset cried out. “You may not get another chance. You may leave this place tonight headed for damnation!”

Vince had always thought words like that sounded like a threat, but now he saw it as unconditional love, a desperate plea from God to not let this chance pass him by.

“Come to the foot of the cross and accept Jesus now!”

As if on cue, the choir began singing, and Vince looked around. He could feel God in every corner of the tent. In every board, in every chair, and in every melodic voice that rang out, telling of His love.

“He’s everywhere!” Sunset shouted. “And he wants to be in your heart tonight!”

Slowly, fighting every step of the way, Vince began walking down the aisle.

* * * *

“Come all ye who are heavy laden, and I shall give you rest. Come, my people! Come to the foot of the…”

As Sunset’s strong voice bellowed out over the people, it suddenly stopped in mid-sentence when he looked down and saw Vince standing in front of the platform. Something lurched inside him when he saw the tears that streamed down his face, and his heart melted. He could feel his own tears burning behind his lids when he heard Vince’s choking words.

“Sunset, I…I want…will you help me…?”

Sunset jumped down from the platform and looked at Vince. “Again, Vince?”

“No, Sunset. I know what you’re thinkin’, but it’s real this time, I promise.”

Sunset thought for a moment, and then he said, “Vince Michaels, do you believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God?”

Vince nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“Do you believe Jesus is divine?”

“Oh, yes, Sunset. I do!”

When Vince had given him a straightforward answer to his questions, he could feel the tears as they pooled in his eyes. These questions had been given to him by a wise old pastor when he first began his ministry. He said if you doubt someone’s sincerity, ask those questions. If they are sincere, their answer will be right, but if not, you’ll be able to tell. Some of them will become uncomfortable, or hesitant in their speech, and some won’t even be able to say it. But those that are sincere will say it just the way Vince had—no hesitation, no stumbling, but with his newfound faith shining in his eyes. As he looked at Vince, he knew. Those eyes weren’t the eyes of an atheist. They were the eyes of an innocent babe—a babe just born into the Kingdom of God.

Later, when Sunset was alone, he lifted his tearstained face up to God. “Thank you, God,” he whispered, referring to the miracle of Vince’s salvation. “I’ll say one thing for you. You sure as hell know how to answer a prayer.”

* * * *

The next morning, Sunset woke up and Vince was gone. After days of agonizing over his disappearance, he received a telegraph from the sheriff of Rogue’s Canyon saying that Vince had turned himself in for the murder of Sunset’s wife. It also asked that Sunset come and officially press charges so they could schedule a hearing.

“Hell, I can’t go down there. I’ve got a revival goin’ on here.”

“You want me to go?” Lakota asked. “I’m not sure how it works, but I might be able to press those charges for you.”

“I don’t want to press charges against him.”

Lakota looked at him strangely. “You don’t? Why not? He killed your wife, didn’t he?”

“I guess so. I actually don’t even know for sure. We had about five men firing at us, and one of the bullets killed my wife. It could have been Vince’s, but it might not have. I know I blamed him for it, but I never really knew for sure. I’m not about to press charges against him if I’m not sure he did it. They’ll hang him, for God’s sake. I don’t want that to happen.”

Lakota looked at him. “It’s because you’re in love with him, isn’t it?”

“All right, yes. I’m in love with him. But that’s not the reason. How can I press charges against him when I’m not even sure if he’s the one that did it? He would hang, for God’s sake. There’s no way in hell that I can do that.”

“He’s never denied it, has he?”

Sunset whirled around and looked at Lakota. “Look, Lakota, guilty or not, I can’t give the order to have Vince killed. Hell, I ain’t no murderer! I’ll stand up and fight with the best of them to defend myself, but to kill a man is just not in my nature.”

“All right, I’ll go down and see what I can do.”

“What do you think will happen?”

Lakota reached for his hat and put on his gun belt. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll find out.”

* * * *

The ride was hot and dusty. Ordinarily, he would have stopped at the saloon for a drink to clear the dust from his throat, but instead he went directly to the sheriff’s office. As he walked in, he looked around and saw the sheriff sitting at his desk.

“You got Vince Michaels here?”

“Sure do.”

“I’d like to see him if I can.”

The sheriff got up from his desk and grabbed the cell keys. “You’ll have to leave your guns out here.”

Lakota took his gun belt off and gave it to the sheriff.

“Right this way,” he said.

Lakota waited for the sheriff to leave before he began talking. “Sunset sent me,” he said.

“I know you. You’re that guy that writes in that notebook.” He looked him up and down. “What’d you do with your city dude clothes?”

“Never mind that. I’m Lakota, Son of Great Eagle, and I’m here to help you.”

“A Comanche’s gonna help me?”

“Sunset and I…we…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Vince said, turning his back on Lakota.

“Well…anyway…Sunset has decided not to press charges against you.”

Vince turned back around. “So he sent you. Look, I thought all I had to do was turn myself in and that would be the end of it. Now, I find out that Sunset has to be dragged into this.” He grabbed the bars of the cell. “I didn’t know they’d contact him. You have to tell him that.”

“I told Sunset I’d do as much as I could, so let me go and talk to the sheriff and see what has to be done.”

Lakota opened the door and walked into the office. As he was putting on his guns, he said to the sheriff, “Sunset has decided not to press charges against Vince Michaels.”

The sheriff looked up, surprised. “He ain’t gonna press charges? Why?”

“He told me he wasn’t sure it was Vince that killed his wife. From what he says, there were five of them there, and they were all shooting at once.”

“He told me back when I arrested him for the first time that Vince did it. Now, he’s sayin’ he ain’t sure?”

“I’m sorry, but that’s what he said.”

“That damned preacher,” the sheriff muttered. “I hate preachers. You can’t depend on one thing they say. They’re so damned wishy-washy—”

Just then the door slammed open and the broad, muscled frame of Sunset Carson stood there. “What was that you were sayin’ about wishy-washy preachers?”

Suddenly, the sheriff was speechless. Before him stood a wild, frontier preacher as big as a mountain and as mean as a wild cat. “I said…” His words stopped suddenly. “Never mind what I said. I hear you ain’t gonna press charges against Vince. May I ask why?”

“He didn’t kill my wife. One of the other men did, and they’re dead.”

The sheriff snorted. “Dead, huh? That’s convenient.”

Sunset began walking toward the sheriff, his hands on his guns. “I don’t like your attitude, sheriff. Maybe I should let you see just how ‘wishy-washy’ I can be.”

“Look, I ain’t askin’ for no trouble here. You want Vince, you can have him.” He turned quickly and hurried to his cell and let him out.

“Sunset!” Vince cried out when he saw him. “What the hell are you doin’ here?”

Sunset didn’t crack a smile. Instead, he said, “Never mind about me, what the hell are you doin’ here? I wake up one mornin’, you’re gone, and I find out you’re here turnin’ yourself in. What the hell are you thinkin’?”

“Hell, I don’t know. It’s this Christianity thing. It makes you do strange things. I already been feelin’ guilty about my language. One of these days I won’t be able to say things like, damn, hell, or even fu…” His words stopped suddenly, and he looked down, embarrassed. “Shoot! It’s already started!” He turned to Sunset. “It’s your fault, you know.”

“Why is it my fault?”

“You’re a preacher, ain’t you?”

“All right, I’ll take the blame this time, but no more doin’ anything that you don’t talk over with me first.”

“Okay.”

“Now, where’s Chick?”

“Out at the hideout, I guess.”

“I have to get back, but you get Chick, and then all of you get your butts back to Belle Plain. Got it?”

“And then what, Sunset?”

Sunset shrugged. “We’ve got a revival to preach.”

Epilogue

While a banner bearing his name flapped in the wind, Sunset stood below it, watching the three cowboys that made their way toward him. When they rode up, he said, “Well, it looks like our little troupe has grown some.”

When Lakota dismounted, he tied his horse up to the hitching post and called out to Sunset as the others moved to go inside. “Sunset, before you go counting heads, I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah? What’s on your mind?”

“I think I’m gonna head on out to the reservation.”

“But why? I thought you were okay bein’ here.”

“I don’t know. This travelin’ to one town and then another…” He shook his head.

“That ain’t it, and you know it. Why not tell me what’s really on your mind?”

“What about Vince and Chick? Are they okay with me bein’ here?”

“Vince and Chick? Yeah, I think you’ll get along fine.” He turned and saw Vince. “Hey, Vince, you and Chick come on over here for a minute. I need to talk to you. When they stood before him, he said, “You boys know that Lakota’s gonna be one of us, don’t you?”

They both looked over at Lakota. “I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess it’s okay,” Vince said.

Sunset looked at Chick. “Chick?”

Chick gave a slight shrug. “Sure. It’s okay with me.”

Sunset lifted his arms and draped them around Vince and Lakota’s shoulders, bringing their circle in a little tighter. “We’re together now,” he said, “and I want us to stay together. The truth is, I don’t think I could do without any of you, so any problems, we work ’em out between us. No more of that stupid jealousy, okay? I know of nothin’ that’s more damagin’ to a relationship than that. I just want you to know that I love the hell out of all of you, and I hope you love me.”

“Hell, Sunset, you know the answer to that,” Chick said.

“Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t.”

“What about it guys?” Vince said. “Do we love this Bible-thumpin’, holy rollin’ preacher here?”

They all laughed and said in unison, “Amen!”

Sunset slapped Lakota on the back. “Now that you’re officially a member of our troupe, get in there and get to work.”

“He’s a real slave driver,” Vince said to Lakota as he led him off.

Sunset smiled and then turned to go back to his tent to get prepared for tonight.

The moment Sunset walked into his tent, he knew something was different and stopped dead still. The tent seemed to be filled with some kind of presence, and a chill danced up his spine. Suddenly, he heard—no, he didn’t hear it. The words that came seemed to be carved upon his understanding.

Tell the people.

He looked around. “Is someone here?”

Tell the people.

“Tell them? Tell them what?”

Like a flood, suddenly the message was all over him, all through him, filling his brain, his heart, and every part of his being. He knew. God was in the room, and he couldn’t play dumb with God. He knew what God was saying, and what was worse, God knew that he knew!

“I can’t do it, God,” he whispered as he wilted down to his knees. “I can’t! I’ll be cuttin’ my own throat, damn it! I’ll never be able to preach another sermon!”

Tell the people.

Sunset agonized. When had he ever refused God anything? Never! But this was too much! Too much! God was asking him—no telling him to go out there and confess his sin to the world.

“No!” he shouted.

Tell the people!

“I won’t be able to preach if I do!” he shouted up to God.

Tell the people!

He reached up and put his hands over his ears as if that would somehow keep God’s voice out.

TELL THE PEOPLE!

Was it his imagination, or did God’s voice get louder? He knew without a doubt that God meant business, and thought about his sermon. It was a good sermon. Many could be saved if they heard it! But he knew he’d never be able to deliver it. The people wouldn’t listen. They’d hiss and shout, and run him out of town! He lowered his face in his hands and cried, knowing it was God’s will, and he couldn’t go against it. Finally, lifting his tearstained face upward, he whispered, “Why would you want me to do this? Why would you want to ruin me? Why…” Suddenly, realizing there was no way he could say no to God, the tears he shed came out like a flood, his words dying on his lips.

His surrender to God was complete.

After getting himself together, he rose from his crouch. He said nothing to the others about his experience, but when the music began and it was time for him to go out, he hesitated.

Finally, after several stops and starts, Vince found him. “Sunset, it’s time. What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“No,” he said, and immediately began smoothing his hair, straightening his string tie, and adjusting his clothes. “I…I’m fine.”

As a million things went through his mind, he reached out, pulled the curtain aside, and stepped out. He walked up to the edge of the platform, took his place behind the podium, and stood there for a moment knowing that this was the most bizarre entrance he would ever make. He might not have come out with a whoop and a holler, but nothing in the past or future would ever equal it. Finally lifting his head, his gaze studied many. The young, the old, the sinner, and the saint. He could almost hear their gasps, their mumbles, and their jeers. He had already been forgiven of many things through his ministry, but as he studied each face, he saw the lines hard work had made on their faces, the gaunt that hunger had brought, and didn’t think they looked like a very forgiving crowd.

Finally, he lifted his voice, and said, simply, “Ladies and gentlemen. I am a homosexual.”

Vince, Chick, and Lakota stood watching, their eyes wide and their mouths open in shock. No one expected this, and they, along with the rest of the congregation, watched and waited. Finally, the silence became filled with whispers, mumbles, several sharp intakes of air as the people turned to each other, their words so soft he could only imagine what they were saying.

Suddenly, a man stood. “You bastard!” he shouted. “You been standin’ up here night after night callin’ us sinners when you’re the one who’s the sinner!”

Another shouted, “You quack, you imposter!”

“We ought to take him out and tar and feather him!”

“Wait!” Corley Sims shouted as he stood up and looked around at the others. “What are you people doin’? You all know me. Bein’ the town doctor, I ain’t one to come around all that quick to miracles and things like that, but even I got to admit that this preacher man here has done some pretty amazin’ things. He’s performed miracles night after night. I know it was real because I knew the people. Even my Bessie got cured of the whooping cough when I couldn’t do a thing for her.” Doc Sims turned to Sunset. “Just tell me one thing, preacher, why would God work miracles through someone like you?”

“Doctor,” he began, and then looked toward the others. “All of you, please hear me now. The beautiful thing is God doesn’t require us to be perfect. No man is or ever will be perfect but Jesus. If God could only work through a perfect man, we would see no miracles. Do you think for one moment that Moses was perfect? Or the Disciples? They were men just like you and me, and yet God worked through them to perform miracles. Who knows for sure if one, or many of them, were homosexuals. Jesus knew, but did he turn His back on them? No. Even Judas, as evil and wicked as he was, followed Jesus and became one of his Disciples. Even steadfast Peter denied knowing Jesus right up until the eleventh hour because knowing Jesus would have meant death for him. They couldn’t help the way they felt, and Jesus knew that, but still He loved them. We each have our own preference of many things. Some men like women, some don’t. Some like beef, others like pork. Some men even drink too much. Many of you out there are guilty of that, I know. Don’t you see what I’m saying? It’s simply a matter of choice. I can’t help the way I feel, no more than any of you can.”

“So what are you going to do, preacher?”

“That depends on you. If you can’t accept me the way I am, then I’ll have to leave the ministry.”

The people slowly formed a group and talked among themselves, their mumbling voices rose, then lowered, until suddenly all was silenced. The speaker of the group turned and looked at Sunset. “Preacher,” he said, “we’ve decided to leave it in God’s hands. As you know, we’re in the middle of a drought. We need rain bad. Our crops are dryin’ up, and our cattle are dyin’. We’re askin’ you to pray to God to send rain. If God grants it, it’ll mean he accepts you the way you are, and we just know one more thing about you we didn’t before. But if he don’t, it’ll mean he’s turned his back on you.” The man looked back at the rest of them and saw them nodding their heads, and then he turned back to Sunset. “Is that fair? Is that all right with you? Will you do this for us?”

Without answering, Sunset lifted his face toward the sky and raised his hands to God. “Oh, God!” Sunset called out, the tears in his eyes coursing down his rugged face. “I come to You asking for rain for these…”

Before Sunset had the words out of his mouth, a loud clap of thunder sounded, followed by a sizzling bolt of lightning that lit up the dark sky. After several ear-splitting claps it suddenly became eerily quiet until the people heard the rain pelting against the tent.

Someone shouted, “It’s raining!”

Everyone jumped up and ran outside, their arms outstretched and their faces turned up to the refreshing rain.

While the people were rejoicing, Sunset jumped down off his platform, and along with Vince and Chick, he ran outside. While he was looking up at something that took his breath away, Lakota came up and stood with them. Sunset looked over at him, and said, “Remember when you asked me if there were any burning bushes in my life, Lakota?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

Sunset lifted his hands to the sky, indicating toward a big round moon that looked as if it were on fire. He heard Lakota gasp when he saw it and said in awe, “There it is, Lakota. There’s the thing I’ve been waiting for my whole religious life. My own personal burning bush!”

* * * *

In the years that followed, the outlaw gang that started a ministry turned honest, and The Sunset Carson Ministries was born. When it was learned that The Full Gospel Association had tried to ruin Sunset, they lost their charter and were forced to disband. Now when Sunset preaches his fire-and-brimstone sermons he always tells the people how God blessed him with his own personal burning bush—him and Moses!

THE END

WWW.KELLYCONRAD.NET

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hi, my name is Kelly Conrad, and I've always loved to write. It's very difficult to tell you just when I began writing. In looking back, I would have to say writing was in my blood as early as elementary school when I sat in Study Hall and thought up names for romance novels. Can you see it? A list of hot, sultry titles that my teacher snatched away from me and turned red as she read them? Don’t even ask me how I knew about things like that at such a young age. I guess I was growing up fast.

Later, as I grew into one of those bold and brash teenagers I began writing stories for my friends to read. The first story was about a teacher who had an affair with a student. Oh, my! Apparently my imagination was developing right along with my body. After that my life took off in several directions until the day I decided I wanted to get back to my first love, writing. Since I'm from Texas, the most natural thing in the world for me is to write a Western ménage with lots of heat. Depending on the story line I might ad a touch of suspense to give it an extra kick. (Love and Lust for Three)

I lived my life as a big-haired blond. I have blue eyes, and I like that tear-jerkin' Western music, and I even sing a little…well, it’s loud, even if it isn’t good. I love square dancing, and I speak with a Texas twang (me and Dolly Parton). Although I'm fairly new with Siren Publishing I hope to bring you more great books in the future.

By the way, I think Dolly comes from Tennessee. I'm telling you that so you won't get us mixed up. Yeah, right! Dream on, Kelly!

Also by Kelly Conrad

Ménage Amour: Love and Lust for Three

Ménage Amour: The Spitfire and Her Four Gunslingers

Ménage Amour: Riverboat Named Desire

PolyAmour: Wild Texas Heat

PolyAmour: Pistol Packin’ Molly

Available at

BOOKSTRAND.COM

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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