Rivers End

Shy Sparks

"Are we almost there Trick?"

Amy was tired and her back was beginning to ache. It had been five days since leaving Hank and Rin, and their pace had been steady and mile eating. They'd been in the saddle for nearly twelve straight hours this day, with only brief stops for the horses.

"If Hank's directions are right, we'll be there in the morning. We'll have to camp out again tonight," he twisted in the saddle slightly to face her. "You need a rest Miss Gates?"

"I'm all right," she tried to sound assertive, but the exhaustion was evident in her voice.

Trick swung his horse off trail and up into a thick grove of aspens. He slipped from the saddle and came back to her, helping Amy from her bay gelding, setting her gently to earth. He'd never been this close to her before, and her waist was trim and warm under his fingers. For an instant her lavender eyes looked up into his, then she glanced away and he dropped his hands.

"This is a good spot for camp. I'll get a fire going."

He quickly gathered some dry wood and flames sprang to life under his practiced hands. He left Amy Leigh to rest as he stripped the gear from the horses and rubbed them down with a few handfuls of dried grass. He picketed them about twenty feet away on a lush patch of green grass then set about making coffee. Amy Leigh had already pulled out the small camp skillet and started bacon and beans. Soon the aroma of food was in the air and Trick was looking forward to it. He filled a cup with coffee and passed it to Amy Leigh.

"Thank you," she met his eyes briefly as she took it.

"Ma'am,"

Amy sat back while Trick tended the skillet, her eyes appraising him. He was perhaps four years her senior, but in the west, she'd discovered a few years makes a great difference in people. Trick Tyler, she knew, had been on his own since he was seventeen, doing a man's work, making his own way in life. His body was trim and whip like, but with somewhat broad rounded shoulders. He was lean of waist and hip, with long legs. His skin was lightly tanned, his face young but serious.

He smiled easily and was often the first to laugh among the RE outfit. Amy also knew he had taken a liking to her but up until now, she'd not thought of him as anything more than a boy.

"Where are you from Trick?" she spoke suddenly, curious.

He paused a moment, looking at her from over the edge of his coffee cup. His eyes were open and friendly, but with slight disapproval in them.

"I reckon that's my business ma'am." He spoke his refusal softly.

Amy was surprised.

"Surely you've nothing to hide?"

He arched his brows at her, a smile tugging at his mouth. She just couldn't help herself, he thought.

"Don't matter if I did, you don't pry into a man's life out here Miss Gates. The past is a man's own business, and his word and his deeds are enough."

"What if he's a murderer, or a thief?" she was unbelieving, the idea of being so accepting at odds with her opinion of decorum.

"So long as he murders no one whilst I'm in his company, nor tries to steal, I've no issue with such a man. He needs to stand up in a battle against Indian or outlaw, be true to his word, have plenty of sand with no coward in him. Such a man, so long as he's trustworthy in my company, I'll ride the river with him."

"Are all western men of that same opinion?" Amy Leigh leaned forward, her eyes intent.

"Western men are only western by location. They come from all over the world Miss Gates, and each has a whole life behind him, education, love, family, loss, but it's in the past. Folks come west to make a new start, to have a fresh life, and more'n half of the folks you meet aren't usin' their name given at birth. Doesn't matter to anyone though, so long as they mind themselves and cause no trouble.