Free Cole's Redemption (Love Amongst the Pines) by Leigh Curtis

of stew he'd had early that morning. It just didn't seem fair that he had to be so miserable, or that he was now scared half out of his wits. There he was, wallowing in self-pity, while this old bear was trying to blow them all to kingdom come.
                  He couldn't make sense of it. One day, a fellow wanted to die and couldn't buy a hanging, and the next, he's out there on a beautiful fall morning dodging buckshot.
                  He winced as his right foot found a sticker bush. He wanted to yell out, both from rage at his precarious situation and because the thorns hurt like hell. The best he could manage was a low grunt and the solemn promise that when he did get his hands on the old goat, he was going to give him a severe throttling.
                  "Come on out here, you water stealin ,' horse wrangling, son of a rattle snake!" Biggins called out. "Be a man once in your stunted life!"
                  Cole crouched now, only a few feet from the would-be assailant. He could see the thick-bellied man more clearly. By his appearance, Lester Biggins liked his whisky straight and lots of salt pork and biscuits. He sported an unshaven appearance complete with a dirty white undershirt and tattered drawers that were a couple of sizes too small and held near to bursting by thick, brown suspenders. His hair stood out in silver wisps, barely covering the balding top of his head. He presented a rather ludicrous picture, and if Cole had not been so damned uncomfortable, he might even have laughed out loud. As it was, he held down a moan and walked slowly up behind the disgruntled neighbor.
                  "I'd hold it right there if I were you," Cole said in a low, threatening voice.
                  The man froze, "Who in blazes are you?"
                  Biggins started to turn around, but Cole gave him a sharp stab with the end of the rifle. The small movement produced intensely sharp pains in both of his hands. Hell, he'd already decided that breathing made his hands hurt, at this point. He bit down on his bottom lip to keep from crying out. The rifle stayed thankfully under his right arm, clutched to his side, and secured between one arm over the other. Still, the slightest movement from his adversary would easily dislodge it, and then his only recourse would be to try and outrun a bullet.
                  "Just stay where you are! Don't move, or I'm going to blow a hole in you the size of Montana." As he spoke, Cole felt a tide of dizziness beginning to build in his head. Damn! He needed only a few seconds more to get the man to put the rifle down and get Natalie out here to grab the gun.
                  "Now lookie here, Mister, I ain't got no argument with you! Them two's the ones I'm after. They've been stealing my fish, helping themselves to water without my permission, and destroying my property. This morning that dimwit came out and put fish guts on my front stoop! His girl in there don't do nothing to stop it. I'm damn tired of putting up with the both of them!"
                  "As of last night, that girl is my wife. If you cause her any harm, you'll have to answer to me. From now on, I'll make sure old Dermott steers clear of you. The water and the fish aren't any man's property. I'm not paying you for something that belongs to the land. What I will do is offer to help you keep poachers off your property and split half of what we catch out of that stream with you. Now, what do you say we call it a truce?"
                  "Well, I guess that ain't too bad." The other man shrugged.
                  Just then the front door to the cabin burst open. "Don't move, Cole! I got him covered!" Natty shouted the stub nosed pistol in her hand.
                  "No!" Cole shouted, but he was too late. Biggins turned around quickly, brushing his hands against the rifle, knocking