The Winner (Romantek)

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The Winner (Romantek) Page 5

by Patricia Green


  Owen didn’t remember a dead man, but he did remember a dream he’d had a week or so ago as he contemplated this RAVE. He imagined himself as an old west gunslinger. Perhaps that was at the crux of this matter. He wanted to play along and see where it led. Hopefully, it wouldn’t lead to his getting killed. That would throw him out of the game.

  “That ain’t any of your business, boy. Get out of here before your mama calls you late for supper.”

  The young man stalked over to White Star’s table and confronted him from a meter away. “I’m going to shoot you dead, you cowardly Indian! Rise up out of that chair and meet me like a man!”

  No man, no matter what time, place or circumstance, would ever get away with being a bigot, as far as Owen was concerned. Romantek was purposely pressing his buttons and he didn’t like it one bit. He would certainly file a complaint when the RAVE was over.

  He rose and nodded toward the street. “If you’re so ready to meet your maker, son, get out there on the street where you ain’t going to shoot the barkeep by accident.”

  Frowning, snorting, the young man led the way out into the dusty street. People were bustling about at the beginning of their day. But seeing the men squaring off in the middle of the street, they hurried away, taking horses and wagons and emptying the street as quickly as they could.

  Finally, the street was clear. White Star could see people peering out from behind curtained windows. He prayed to whomever one prayed to in a situation like this, that he didn’t accidentally shoot through a window and get a bystander. He had learned to use a pistol as a young man, because there were rattlesnakes where he came from. Occasionally he encountered them when exercising his horses on the range. You had to be a good shot to hit a moving snake from a distance. He was better with a rifle, but the Smith & Wesson in his holster would do. He didn’t want to kill the boy, even in a game—it was too realistic—but he would try to wound him and give him a good scare.

  “All right, you varmint,” the kid yelled at White Star. “Prepare to go to hell!”

  Owen had never imagined not having his enhanced vision, so for this RAVE he had it. He could see the boy’s hand shaking as it hovered over his gun. If Johnny hit anything, it was going to be his own foot.

  There was a pause. The only sounds White Star could hear were a horse nickering down one of the side alleys and the wind whistling up dirt devils behind him. His hand hovered over his gun. The sun was warm in his face, and he squinted his eyes against the glare.

  In the space between two heartbeats, the boy went for his gun. Although he wasn’t as quick as he might have like, White Star drew his gun first, took aim, and fired. Johnny got off a shot too, but his whizzed by White Star’s leg and ended up in the dirt.

  “Ow! I’m hit! You bastard! You shot me!”

  White Star hurried over the boy on the ground and kicked his gun away. “I got you in the hand, son. Stop whining and get your ass up out of the dirt.”

  “I’m bleeding!”

  The sheriff came rushing over, surrounded by some shopkeepers. “Let me see that hand.”

  Johnny held up his hand, showing the sheriff his dripping wound. White Star had grazed the side of his right palm. It wasn’t much of a hit, but it had ended the fight.

  “Get yourself over to the barber. He’ll fix you up.” The older man turned to White Star. “You. Come with me.”

  “Okay.” Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to spend another night in jail over this. It had been self-defense, after all.

  In the sheriff’s office, the sheriff hung his hat on a peg and sat in his chair, indicating that White Star should sit across from him. That was better than handcuffs, so apparently, he wouldn’t be arrested.

  “You’re nothing but trouble lately, boy.”

  “I’m sorry, sheriff. There are witnesses who will corroborate that Johnny started the fight. I finished it is all.”

  “I saw that he weren’t too hurt. Was that your intent?”

  “Yes, sir, it was.”

  The sheriff nodded. “Well, Smith, I hardly know what to do with you. I can’t have you causing trouble and you done it twice since you come to Pollyville.”

  He had caused a fight in Joe’s Saloon. And his reputation as a gunslinger had caused today’s gun battle. But if he left Pollyville, his chances of seeing Audrey again were nil. “I can’t take back what’s already happened.”

  “No, son. You purely cannot.” He considered for a moment. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave town. Get your horse and ride on out. Today. Now, in fact.”

  So much for another meeting with Audrey. Disappointment was a bitter pill to swallow. “You don’t have to do this sheriff. I couldn’t help it that a stupid kid came gunning for me.”

  “Your reputation wasn’t your fault, I suppose?”

  Well…he had dreamed it up. “I’d rather stay in Pollyville.”

  “I’d rather be an English gentleman with a mansion on a hill, but that don’t make it so. Go on now, or I’ll have to do this the hard way.”

  White Star stood and without so much as a goodbye, he went to the saloon, packed up his gear, and walked to the livery stable to retrieve his horse. He stared at Mrs. Brown’s house as he went down the street. There was movement in an upstairs window, but the sun glared off the glass and White Star couldn’t see who or what it was.

  The liveryman nodded to him as he headed toward his horse, Capable. “Had yourself a busy morning, haven’t you?”

  “A bit too busy. Come to get my horse.”

  “Where you headed? Back to Texas?”

  Where was he going to go? Texas? There was still that horse to consider at the Bar R. And he’d made good connections with the owner and foreman. It had the added advantage of keeping him relatively close to Pollyville, even though the possibility of seeing Audrey again was dismally small.

  “I’m riding over to the Bar R,” he told the liveryman. “Got to see a man about a horse.”

  “See you later, then.”

  White Star gave a grunt of acknowledgement, got up on his horse and left town.

  * * *

  As she was cleaning, Audrey heard a commotion on the street. People were high-tailing it off the main boulevard, taking cover wherever they could. As she peered out the parlor window, she spoke to Mrs. Brown who was cleaning nearby.

  “What do you suppose is going on, Mrs. Brown?”

  The older woman joined Audrey at the window. “Looks like a gunfight. Best get away from the window.”

  Audrey had never seen a gunfight, of course. She had never seen a gun except for this RAVE, in fact. It was hard to imagine that there was any danger here in the parlor, so she stood by the window a little longer, gasping when she saw White Star standing in the middle of the street, his hand hovering near his gun.

  Suddenly, there were two sounds. They sounded like loud pops. Audrey saw the other man fall to the street, and White Star hurry over to him. White Star looked unhurt.

  As she watched, the sheriff gestured to White Star, and the man replaced his gun in its holster and followed the sheriff back to his office.

  Audrey couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next, but she had chores to do if she wanted to go on that picnic with Marcus. A few minutes later, Audrey found herself at the windows again. This time, it was barely in time to see White Star ride off with his bedroll strung up behind him on his horse. He was leaving town! Apparently, he was going somewhere as a result of the shooting. Was he being kicked out of Pollyville?

  “I have to go out a minute, Mrs. Brown.”

  “Very well. Be sure to close the privy door this time, Audrey.”

  She took advantage of the older woman’s misunderstanding. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Her apron got folded neatly, her dust rag was put away, and she made a quick trip to the upstairs rooms. Within a few minutes, Audrey was at the sheriff’s office.

  He greeted her warmly.

  “It’s good to see you, too, sheriff. I came because I
saw there was trouble in town today. I was wondering what happened.”

  “Ain’t nothing to worry your pretty noggin about, Miss Audrey. Had ourselves a minor gunfight, but there wasn’t any lasting harm done.”

  “I couldn’t help but notice that White Star was a part of it.”

  The sheriff sighed, world weary for a moment. “Yes, he was. But that’s not going to happen again. I asked him to leave town. He did.”

  “Oh! You kicked him out?”

  Nodding, the sheriff gave her a steely look. “You sweet on him?”

  Had she made it so obvious? “No! Of course not! He just didn’t strike me as a gun fighter.”

  “Well, you’re an innocent woman. Why would you understand a man’s behavior?”

  Audrey quickly considered her options. “Did he say where he was going?”

  “I ain’t got no idea, and best you stay out of it.”

  “Yes, sir.” She might find out at the livery stable where his horse was kept. “I ought to go now.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you at lunchtime, Miss.”

  “No, sir. I’m going on a picnic today. Mrs. Brown will deliver your lunch.”

  “Picnic! Well, ain’t you the lucky one! Enjoy yourself and eat a slice of pie for me.” His smile was kind, fatherly. Audrey felt a little guilty over what she planned to do, but not so guilty that her plans changed.

  “Thank you, Sheriff. I’ll do just that.”

  After saying her goodbyes, Audrey hurried outside to the livery stable. The young man from before was there, currying a horse.

  He blushed upon seeing her. Apparently, he hadn’t forgotten her spanking.

  “Hello.” She smiled. “I was wondering if you had seen White Star?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “I um…borrowed a handkerchief from him and wanted to return it.”

  He continued to curry the horse. “Hm. Well, he went over to the Bar R.”

  “Did he say when he’d be back?”

  “Don’t rightly know, ma’am. He took his bedroll, so he’s probably going be gone overnight.”

  “I see. Thank you.” She turned to leave, but that really wasn’t her intent. Turning back, she asked, “Say, have you a buggy for hire?”

  “Yep. Got a little one-person roadster back in the shed. It belonged to a real English gentleman who lost everything playing faro and needed to sell it quick to get out of town.”

  “How much to hire it and a horse?”

  “How long do you need it for?”

  “Oh, just a few hours.” Hopefully, the errand she was planning wouldn’t take that long.

  “That’ll be ten dollars, including the horse.”

  Audrey had a twenty-dollar gold coin that she had started the RAVE with and, since she was working for Mrs. Brown, with her room and board were paid, she had nothing to spend it on. Still ten dollars—half her stake—sounded like a lot.

  “I’ll give you eight.”

  “Ten or it’s no-go.”

  “Come on…please?”

  He eyed her from head to toe. “Got something more valuable than money?”

  Audrey knew what he meant by that and it was out of the question. “No.”

  The liveryman went back to his horse grooming. “Ten dollars, take it or leave it.”

  “All right. How long will it take to get it ready?”

  “Oh, a little while. Why don’t you go sit yonder on that hay bale whilst I get to work on it?”

  The hay bale looked prickly, and she couldn’t help but remember White Star sitting there with her over his lap, or sharing that kiss while standing so near it. She couldn’t go back to Mrs. Brown’s yet. But she only had about two hours before she was due to meet with Marcus for their picnic. If she didn’t show up, there’d be hell to pay. Mrs. Brown was going to be livid as it was.

  “Okay. But hurry, please.”

  “Yes’m.”

  It took half an hour to get the horse and buggy all put together. The liveryman had insisted on finishing currying the horse he had been working on when Audrey arrived. Then there was some jostling and fussing with getting everything all hooked up.

  Audrey eyed the setup with some trepidation. She had never driven a horse before, let alone one pulling a buggy. Judging from the way the liveryman moved up onto the buggy and around it, it looked to be a decent carriage. It had one long, padded bench seat, four big wheels with springs, and a leather top that opened and closed. It was painted a rich, dark red, and its brass accents were gleaming.

  Although she needed a little help up onto the seat, Audrey thought she covered her nervousness well enough. He handed her the reins and she held them gingerly.

  “Don’t let Old Hickory give you trouble, ma’am. He’s a stubborn sort, but he’ll respond if you take no nonsense.”

  “Okay. Um…Which way is it to the Bar R?”

  If he was surprised by her destination, he hid it well. “You go east for a spell and you’ll find a big cornfield. Don’t pass into the field, but instead, turn toward the south. The Bar R will be right in front of you after a while.”

  Seemed simple enough. East, then south, past the cornfield—luckily, she knew what corn looked like. How hard could it be? “Thank you.”

  “Flick them reins nice and soft now, you hear? He’s a well-trained animal. Don’t need rough hands.”

  “Okay.” She lifted the reins—they were heavy—and let them drop. The horse moved forward, and the buggy jerked ahead. She wondered which way was east, and how to turn the horse that way, but the liveryman proved helpful again.

  “No, ma’am, pull toward the east. To your left!”

  “Oh.” She pulled gently on the reins in her left hand and the horse turned a little. A bit harder tug had him turning left. She flicked the reins one more time and the horse set off on a jaunty trot, pulling the carriage easily. Maybe this wasn’t so hard after all.

  An hour later, her hands and arms were exhausted and she still hadn’t found the cornfield. There were acres of alfalfa and some sort of melons, so she kept going, skirting the field to continue east. Now she was concerned that that field had indeed been the field, maybe replanted with other things, and she was hopelessly lost and thirsty. She tried pulling the reins to one side to turn the horse around, and was successful at that, but she couldn’t remember which way she’d gone. There was another field of leafy stuff ahead, but was that the first one, or a second one?

  Audrey looked up at the sun and found it glaring at an angle. It wasn’t noon yet, so she still had time. Ah, there was a field of stalks, up ahead. If she turned right before that field, she would be heading south.

  Finally she was back on track, passing field after field. Some were corn while some had grassy shoots. They all smelled green and fragrant. The sun was hot, though, and she began to sweat under her calico. Her bonnet made her head hot, too, and trickles of sweat ran down her temples. She was so thirsty! Audrey couldn’t remember a time when she had been so thirsty.

  Just as she was passing a fallow field, the horse balked. Frustrated, Audrey flicked the reins again. Her tired arms couldn’t put much effort into it, but she tried again and again. The horse backed up, stamping his feet and shaking his head. What was going on?

  She dropped the reins and climbed down off the buggy, intending to go toward the horse and find out what was stalling their progress. The horse continued to be restless, and moments later, Audrey found out why. There was a snake in the road, something with a triangle-shaped head and black, beady eyes. When it lunged for her, the horse whickered and backed up again. Fortunately, the snake couldn’t quite get to her, so she avoided being bitten. But it was plenty scary!

  There was a gun in her reticule. She’d “borrowed” it from Marcus’ room while he was out that morning, and after she made the decision to go find White Star. She knew she would be traveling the countryside, but at the time, she hadn’t known where exactly so a gun would have to be her protection. Of course, she didn’t know precis
ely how to shoot one. But how hard could it be?

  She slowly stepped back away from the snake, finally getting far enough away to make a dash to the buggy and get her gun.

  It was a very small pistol, with two barrels, one on top of the other. There was a place for a finger and it had a handle for her palm. There was some sort of gizmo on the upper back that looked like it would rock back if it was pulled.

  Rounding the horse again, she pointed the gun at the snake and tried to pull the trigger. It was so hard! It wouldn’t budge. She held it with two hands, and the snake lunged for her. Crying out, she pulled the gizmo back, but the gun still didn’t shoot. Desperate, she yanked on the trigger with both hands. Boom!

  She was very nearly knocked over by how loud it was, and the gun bucked so hard it nearly flew out of her hand! The snake slithered away while the horse yanked on the carriage, pulling it forward with a jerk. The snake got as far as the dirt field, turned back toward her and lunged again. Again she pointed the gun at the snake and pulled the trigger with both hands. Her wrists were killing her, and the shot went wild. The horse went a little crazy, and spooked, rushing away with the buggy.

  “Stop!” she yelled. “Stop, horse! Wait! Whee!” Wasn’t that what you were supposed to say? “Whee!”

  It didn’t even pause in its wild escape. Within minutes, the buggy was hopelessly far away and Audrey was left with only the snake for a companion. Thankfully, it didn’t seem interested anymore, hurrying off into the dirt.

  Chapter 5

  Now what was she going to do? Audrey wasn’t sure where she was. There was no water, no transportation, nothing but a big dirt field. Well, there seemed to be no other choice, so she started trudging down the track she’d been following, hoping the horse had stopped up ahead and was waiting for her.

  More sweat trickled down the sides of her face, and her high-button shoes were starting to leave blisters on her heels. Still, what could she do but continue on?

  She looked up toward the sun again. It was nearly exactly in the middle of the sky. That didn’t help her figure out if she was going the right way or not. But she did know that she had missed her date with Marcus. He and Mrs. Brown must be worried about where she was. There would be the devil to pay when she got back to the boardinghouse.

 

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