A Parcel in Brindlebridge

3: The Things that Creep in the Night

3: THE THINGS THAT CREEP IN THE NIGHT

Up and up that narrow path wound, a barely-visible sliver of beaten dirt that allowed Miss Moreau's employees to come and go from town with few but the sharpest of eyes paying any heed. Tangles of thorny bushes and gnarled old trees speckled the steep hill, left in place to provide a little extra cover. Brittle chalk and loose pebbles skittered and slid, yet Milk never faltered once, and though the going was slow, it was not uncomfortable and they did not need to dismount like one might from a more skittish horse. By the time Milk crested that hill, the sun had slipped just a little.

Bonnie gave him a firm pat to the neck and encouraged him onward, eyes narrow as she surveyed the vast prairie before them. The path continued on, just as narrow, to the east now, it meandered around trees and rocks until it reached the road - this being a thick dirt track worn into the earth by carriages and carts. Instead of heading that way, she guided Milk westward still, the clop of his hooves turning to a dull thud. Alexander's arm remained around her waist, though had relaxed a little, so that it no longer squeezed her. When she glanced over her shoulder, those dark eyes of his were focussed on no one thing in particular, but roamed across the vast expanse around them. His other hand, she noted, was set upon his hip, right above one of his guns.

Ever west they went that day for the next few hours, and soon enough they began to meander through small patches of trees and dense bush. Great towers of sandy stone came into view, and just as the sky turned like a mottled bruise, Alexander shifted behind her and pointed to a nearby stack of rock.

"Over there, best stop for camp while there's some shelter nearby."

Bonnie glanced over and frowned at the rock, then back up at the sky. "It looks like we might have another hour's worth of light," she protested with a shake of her head.

Alexander heaved a sigh, breath hot on the back of her head, and tapped Milk's flanks. As before, the massive horse came to a firm stop, though this time he bent his head to tug and chew on some coarse grass. "We stop here, Miss Bonnie, 'cos if we don't, we'll be camping out in the prairie without protection from wind or worse." His arm slipped from around her waist, and then with a grunt, she felt him heave himself down from the horse's back.

Bonnie watched him walk around to Milk's head and grip the bridle. He stooped, yanked out a handful of grass, and wafted it in front of the horse's head. With the promise of food, Milk more than happily allowed Alexander to lure him toward the rock, deaf to Bonnie's attempts to make him halt. Once by the large stack of rocks, Alexander dropped the grass for Milk to eat, and levelled his gaze at Bonnie. Lips pursed, she slapped the reins into his extended hand with a little too much force, but in that moment she was pleased to see the slight wince twitch his lips. She did not waste time getting Milk to kneel, and instead lowered herself and dropped from his back. Bonnie staggered, breath hissing through her teeth, and stomped over to the rocks to sit, arms folded.

"Going to be like that, I see." Without complaint, Alexander unloaded Milk and set up the camp. It was not much at all - a small fire and two sleeping mats. The fire did not last long, either, he kept it lit just long enough to warm their food, and even then it barely managed that with how he smothered it with stones. Bonnie didn't complain about that, she understood. Even so, she ate in silence, eyes locked on the lukewarm hunk of salted meat and cheese.

Once the fire was put out, Bonnie moved toward her sleeping mat, but stopped and turned back to Alexander. He moved only to draw one of his revolvers and set it atop his knees.

"There's coyotes out here," he announced after a moment, and tapped a finger against the revolver. "I'll be on watch, in case one or two get bold."