"Darn
Tootin'! We're coming to a bend in the
road ahead and I'm going to have to slow the stage down or we aren't going' to
make it!"
Callie
nodded, pulled her gun out of the holster, and climbed back atop the
stage. The man was closer than
before. He had about twenty feet to go
before he would be side by side with the stage. She knelt down beside a trunk, raised her gun to aim at him when
he raised his and fired. Her hat flew
off her head, and her hair tumbled down around her shoulders and back. "That was my favorite hat!" She aimed and fired back. She watched as his black hat flew off behind
him to land in the dust.
"That'll
teach you!" She knew he couldn't
hear her, but it sure made her feel better to know that he lost his hat
too. When she saw him replace his gun
in his holster and lean low over the saddle horn and kick his mount, she knew
he was determined to reach the stage and she had never killed anyone. She knew she could, but she couldn't.
Callie
fired a couple warning shots in front of the horse but it never broke stride,
and as the stage slowed, the man on horseback rode closer. Again she fired in front of the horse but to
no avail. Evidently, the horse was as
used to being shot at as the man on its back.
***
Clint
West spurred his mount faster, riding low over the saddle horn. He couldn't believe that a woman was
shooting at him. When he had seen her
climb out of the stage and pull herself up on top, he had thought she was a
boy. It wasn't until he shot her hat
off and saw all that blond hair fall about her shoulders and shine like spun
gold in the sun, that he realized she was a woman.
He
knew that Devil's bend was up ahead and waited for the stage to slow before
urging his horse faster. He didn't
think a woman would shoot him, at least he hoped not. After all, he knew this stage wasn't carrying anything
valuable. He just wanted to collect his
future wife and be done with it and get back home.
Clint
rode up beside the driver and pointed his gun. "Halt those horses now!" He yelled, as the driver glanced at him, and then whipped the team
again. "Stop!" He aimed and fired at the driver's hat and
watched it fly off his head. When that
didn’t work, he cussed, and spurred his mount in front of the stage a ways
ahead on the road right before the bend in the road. The driver had no choice but to haul up on the reins and stop the
stagecoach. He rode up and looked up
into the barrel of a six-gun. “Put that
damn thing away before you hurt someone!”
“That
someone will be you if you don’t let us pass!”
“I’ve
come to collect my bride that’s supposed to be on this stage. I didn’t want to go all the way into town
for her.”
“You’re
bride?”
“My
intended. Her name’s Callie
McCade.” He watched as her deadly
expression turned to one of surprise. “That’s me and you must be Clint West!”
“You’re
Callie?”
“Yes.”
Clint
watched her climb down from atop the stage and stare up at him. “Boy when you go after your woman, you don’t
mess around!”
He
groaned. Leave it up to old Ned to
raise a hellion. He looked at the coach
driver. Sorry about the trouble and
there comes your shotgun man up the road. Doesn’t look any worse for wear after falling off the stage. He reached down and helped Callie mount
behind him and kicked his horse in the sides. He didn’t like people and he wasn’t about to be caught by the law to go
get a woman he didn’t want, but had to. Damn Ned for sending her, but he knew the man must have good
Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch
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