Jackson laid on top Layla, his chest heaved to regain breath, as she milked his cock of his ebbing orgasm.  Slowly his tight muscles gave way to the exhaustion of the trail.  Her question distracted him from his thoughts as he rolled off of her.<br/><br/>"Ghosts older than you Darlin'," he said with the intention of keeping his feelings for Abby private.<br/><br/>Jackson swung his feet to the side of the bed and stood.  He wandered over to his saddle bags and retrieved a slender cigar.  His naked frame cast a shadow across the room when he lit the cigar on the oil lamp.  He took a couple long drags until he was sure it was lit.  The intoxicating smoke filled his lungs and left in a long exaggerated exhale.  The relaxation mingled with the fatigue that was taking over.  He then moved to his coat hanging on the wall and he reached in the pocket and found a wad of folded bills.  He took a sawbuck from the stack and laid in on the table before he returned to the bed.<br/><br/>Jackson sat back down on the bed and leaned against the head board.  He pulled Layla's arm across his waist and continued to puff on the little cigar.  His free hand stroked her hair as she nestled against his torso.  He looked over her bare body with a slight smile, certain he had found a reasonable substitute for the comforts of Abby.<em>Maybe Lola will get off my ass now.</em><br/><br/>His eyes grew heavy as he sat there in reflection.  He set the cigar in the wash basin on the night stand and allowed sleep to consume him.