by Arch Gallen
*Santa Fe Bandits, Western Settler Saga II
Draining his coffee, he shivered against a sudden, sharp breeze, aggravated again by the shifting season but more by his reaction to it. Winter was a fact and had been all his life; there was no reason the onset of this one should bother more than any he experienced. It wasn’t like those first two in Colorado spent sleeping in caves while caring to do no more than build houses for the kin while outlaws took potshots at him. Today, a warm home and loving family all deserved greater gratitude than he felt and brought on less doing than he wanted. Geared to work, to accomplish, everything around grew from exertions completed a half decade before. Studying a sparrow pecking at unknown bits of nothing beside the porch, Adam sighed unhappily, envious of a bird with purpose when he seemingly had none himself.
Abruptly, Adam popped to his feet, sliding gracefully to the far end of his porch. Staring out over
Checkmark Mountains, he ran his mind over every trail on the west arm separating his home from town, knowing each inch of them. The small stream bubbling south from them which brought water to Step’s home down canyon Adam routed to create a lake bringing pleasure in hot summers to his children and the nieces and nephews born on the ranch. The barns, smokehouse, and each building in sight had been planned, dug out and constructed by his hands with help delivered by grace, all served usefully still.
Pensive, he recalled great pleasure felt in those early days from all the needful doing. Helping start stores, working to save freight operations threatened with failure by railroads, lending ideas and a strong back to Kate and her niece Trish when they were wishful of transforming a little café in town to a hotel were all challenges meant to use ability granted by grace. Of late, there was little or, he admitted, none similar to satisfy demands he put on himself. Friends were scattered over five territories, the kin were occupied by families, work and matters important while he sat on a cold porch drinking stale coffee.
Now there’s Petra. Edgy before the troublemaker arrived, he’d become downright ornery with the news Step brought. Petra wasn’t an outlaw he could confront, jail or shoot down but was certainly a threat to all Adam loved. Ruthless, cold blooded and completely devoid of conscience or morals, Petra was capable of doing almost anything imaginable but intent on doing only one.
Kill Adam Pike.