EUREKA

Three's a Crowd

It was a sour taste in my mouth. Defeat. Like I'd been made to swallow stale water, whipped, been dared to fight back and didn't. My belly ached from it. If only I had a clue as to where that rider had taken ol' Gray! To go home, to face my pa and tell him I let his horse get stolen, lost a rifle- I shook off the thought.

"He won't blame you none," I assured myself. "It's not like you was Xander, or even Quill. You's the baby...'sides, it's not like any trouble was expected, an' I wasn't bein' careless, exactly. Just mindin' my own business."

No matter how I argued it out, the end was the same. A whipped pup. Oh how it rankled me! So what if I was comin' on near twenty? That was no call to treat me like some no-account beggar, some barfly that you could kick around because no one cared- A snapping twig jerked me from my righteous anger and I froze, ears straining.

Did something creak- leather on leather? Gingerly settling to the ground, I let my dust-covered clothes blend into the scenery. I heard it then, the steady clop clop of hooves on dirt, heading toward me. Nostrils flexing, I took in the odor of my own stale sweat, the hot, dry earth, sun-bleached grass, and the far-off scent of cool water. Nestling a bit lower to the ground, I went completely still, letting only my eyes move.

He rode into sight from beyond a scrub brush draw, his horse a large brown gelding with a white blaze across his face. My eyes loosely tracked his movements to the dry creek bed, trying not to stare. A man adapted to living by his wits could feel a long look. When he stopped the horse I tensed, nostrils flaring as he stepped from the saddle. Whatever curiosity I had about his intentions vanished when my eyes lit on the rifle in the boot.

That was my rifle. I'd know that deep scratch in the wooden stock anywhere. Pa had been so mad he'd taken a belt to my brother over it. Course, Xander shoulda been more careful in handling the carbine, and served him right. Still, it made knowing the rifle much easier. Refocusing my eyes on the rider, I frowned. He wasn't a big man, not in a heavy way, his horse not looking the size of the one who'd left off with ol' Gray, but he had my rifle. My hand snaked to a large rock, and staying low, I carefully crept along the far side of the brush, toward him.

I was mad clean through, but no fool. I had the advantage of surprise yet, determined to make the most of it. In more civilized worlds, maybe I was leaning toward savage, thinking of braining a stranger with a rock without warning, but in the west, it was still wild, untamed, and a body that wouldn't fight back was often killed. I'd had enough of playing nice and meant to have what answers I could get- and Pa's rifle.

The rider unhooked his canteen from the saddle, untwisting the top to take a long pull, moving a few paces away to look about. Well, I just worked my way around the other side of his gelding, and bless that big horse, he didn't make much of a sound as I stepped from the brush. Animals always did take to me, even the wild ones, and I'd never been more grateful than that minute. Hefting the rock so I'd be ready, I'd taken two steps when the rider turned around, his eyes going wide at seeing me so close, seeming to come up out of nowhere. I did note they was a washed-out kind of brown.

Before he could say anything, I'd let that rock fly. Just bigger than palm-sized, had I been my normal self it would have killed him being as close as I was. Weak though, the stone sailed in a clean arc then dropped sudden, smashing into his face with a sickening crunch. He dropped, clutching his face, moaning. Figuring that had bought me a small chunk of time, I grabbed my rifle from the gelding's saddle boot, making careful sure it was loaded and ready to fire. By then, the stranger had sat up, still holding tight to his face, blood pouring from between his fingers. His one good eye leveled at me maliciously.

"What'd you go an' do that for!"

Ignoring him, I lifted the carbine enough so that the muzzle was lined up nicely with his chest. He seemed to freeze a little, staring hard at me.