Free Along The Fortune Trail by Harvey Goodman

still dumbfounded.
    Lundy pulled the wagon up and stopped, but sat quietly, not wanting to interrupt the conversation that he knew Sammy was more than happy to be having.
    “I'd be pleased if you came by for a visit when you're feeling better, Sam.” She turned and began to walk away, then looked back after two steps and said with the slightest intonation of sweet hope, “Goodbye for now, Samuel Winds.”
    Sammy watched her walk down the boardwalk as if nothing else existed in the world, fixated until she disappeared into the general store a block away. He finally looked at Lundy, who was looking back at him with a knowing smile. “I think you oughta do as that girl says and pay her a visit when you're feelin’ better,” Lundy casually said.
    “I believe I will.”
     

Chapter 17
     
    T he wagon rumbled along over the gently undulating upper plains, the land colored by the mid-autumn hues of yellow, gold, green, purple, and red, and rolling out in an easy ascent that eventually vanished into a forest several miles ahead. Sammy was laid out in the back amongst the supplies, his head resting on a sack of beans. His ribs ached, but the pain had let up some since he'd taken up residence on the wagon bed, having been forced there early on by the pain brought from sitting up front at the beginning of the trip. He and Lundy had talked for an hour about the goings on at the ranch, the current herd, and Sammy's ordeal. Lundy understood that Sammy had deep regret over having to kill a man, his first, but knew that the west was a volatile place where a man did what a situation demanded of him to survive. For his part, Sammy was simply mad that he'd been forced to kill the unknown stranger. “That loud-mouthed son of a bitch won't be causin’ anybody else trouble,” Sammy had said before the conversation fell silent.
    Several miles went by with each man riding in his own thoughts. Sammy gazed at the deep blue sky, choked with billowing, puffy clouds, his senses keen with the outdoor movement and his unexpected encounter with Jenny. Lundy kept the team at a good pace and sat easily with loose reins in hand, happily singing a medley of trail songs.
    It was early afternoon. They had just passed the canteen between them and were preparing to indulge in some fried chicken and biscuits when Sammy spotted the rider moving up their path several miles behind them. “Rider comin’ up behind us, Lundy.”
    Lundy turned around and looked for several seconds, noting the rider's speed and direction. “Looks like he's tryin’ to catch us … movin’ fast … sod's flyin’ … and lookin’ right at us … must be.” He pulled back easily on the reins. “Whoaa, boys. Let's stop this travelin’ palace and pay this meal the attention it deserves while we let this feller get here.” Lundy got the wagon stopped and moments later tore into a fat chicken breast, chewing with dedicated purpose and quickly replacing what he'd swallowed with other large bites as if there were a time limit involved.
    Sammy was making short work of a thigh and biscuit and intently watching the rider. He stopped chewing as recognition began to form. “I think that's Sheriff Ritter. Looks like his horse, and he wears a gray bowler like that … don't he?”
    Lundy peered hard for a moment while he chewed away. “I think you're right,” he said through a mouth full of chicken, causing a morsel to be ejected that landed on Sammy's nose. “Sure looks like that blue roan of his,” Lundy continued, not noticing as another piece flew out and landed on Sammy's chest.
    “You keep talking, Lundy, and I'll have a whole nuther piece of chicken down here soon,” Sammy mused, brushing the pieces off of his face and chest.
    “Well, you couldn't go wrong ‘cause that's about as good as fried chicken ever gets,” Lundy replied without hesitation.
    Both men continued eating and watching as the rider slowly grew closer. Minutes later, the rider pulled up alongside the