The Wrong Man and the Right Woman (closed for CurtailedAmbrosia)

[DominationSoul]

https://i.pinimg.com/736x/c9/13/4e/c9134eb09771d1a69df64a92e97e35ee.jpg

Cord Gentry stepped into the stirrup and swung his 6'2” 240 lb body into the saddle of his Mustang, Chester. He'd found Chester a few years back when the horse had been injured by a bear. Cord took care of Chester, and Chester became his friend, which was a good thing since Cord had few friends.

He'd been working for the Circle DD ranch in the Palo Duro Canyon until he'd been accused of cattle rustling by the owner, Dale Dalton. Three men had tried to take him: two died and the third wouldn't bother anyone for awhile.

Cord did not consider himself a quick shot, but he seldom missed, which made up for his slower draw. He knew Dalton would keep sending people after him, so there was only one thing he could do: find the cattle thieves and the cattle.

It didn't help that the day after the cattle were taken there was a heavy rain that wiped out most of the tracks, but it was near impossible to move 500 head of cattle without leaving some trace of their passing.

He'd been on the trail of the cattle, with Walt, Chet, and Samson, when they jumped him, claiming he was the leader of the cattle thieves. He had not been expecting that but knew something was wrong from the way they had been acting.

He had expected the cattle to go south where there were many places to sell them, but they were going north, which meant Dodge City or Abilene, Kansas. They had enough of a head start that they might be able to sell the cattle before he caught up to them, but the cattle were slow moving, so he had a chance of catching them.

The day was drawing to a close when he found a small stream. He dismounted and led Chester to the water. Cord removed his hat and lay on his stomach. As he cupped his hand into the water, a soft feminine voice said, “Put both hands in the water and keep them there.”

The sound of a repeater locking into place convinced Cord to do as requested.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"Been tracking you for three days." The woman informed in a flat, businesslike manner. There's a touch of mean to it, but not the posturing or overcompensating kind. No, that tone carried warning to it, a leveled challenge more befitting a man than a member of the 'fairer sex'. He was being watched closely no doubt, rifle at the ready-but she stayed behind him and out of view, voice close enough it was near point blank range, but far enough he couldn't hope to strike out before he was shot.

"The poster said alive, but I'm a flexible woman Mr. Gentry." The woman continued in the same leveled fashion.

"So let's be civil about this, and I won't have to consider alternatives. Unbuckle your gun belt and toss it a ways. Don't roll over, and don't let that hand get within three inches of that revolver, if you want to keep your innards where they belong."

A pause and a concession. "You're a good shot by all accounts. But so am I, and I'm afraid I've got you dead to rights."

 

[DominationSoul]

Cord felt like a damn fool. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been caught unawares; there was a situation with a rattlesnake one time, but it had blended in perfectly with the ground. He was certain this woman was not camouflaged, so how had she snuck up on him?

Her voice was serious, but it also had a sensous tone that was stirring his insides, which was not even funny; in fact, he wanted to spit nails. He remembered the last woman whose voice had captured his heart, and she stomped it into the dirt.

Her directions were very clear, and he didn't doubt she would blast him. With his gun belt pressed hard into the bank, he pushed down with one hand while the other slid under him to released the belt. He pulled the belt free from one side and put that hand back down and pushed up, reaching under with the other hand and freeing the gunbelt.

He pulled the gunbelt as hard as he could and tossed it away from him. Now, he felt twice the fool: getting snuck up on and being disarmed.

“Listen, you got the wrong man. I didn't rustle no cattle; I'm on the rustlers trail right now.”

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"Unless you've been going in circles, Mr. Gentry, I'd have to say I doubt that. You stay right there now, remember what I said."

Without so much as a scrape of a boot or the snap of a twig, a woman came into view on his right, circling around with her rifle still trained on him. Her body language was tense and somewhat hostile, drawn taut like one might be around a bear.

Which, comparatively, he was.

And no wonder she didn't make much noise-she couldn't have been taller than five two or three even in those boots, and diminutive in statue besides. Whatever feminine shape there was or wasn't couldn't quite be determined due to the blue Union jacket she was wearing, the insignia taken off and the brass buttons worn dull. Seemed on purpose. Scandalously she was wearing pants much like a boy would, and if hadn't been for her decidedly feminine voice and that suspiciously pretty, heart shaped face, she could probably pass as one in that get up. At least at a glance and maybe with her hat drawn low, anyway, out on the trail.

For right now though, the weathered brown cowboy hat was tipped back on her blonde head, enough he'd be able to see the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheekbones, the clear cerulean color of her eyes rimmed in lashes. The bright blues were sharp and watchful, ready to act on the slightest bit of movement she didn't like. There's no real fear or anxiety in them-just a grim sort of confidence.

This clearly wasn't her first rodeo, as evidenced by how she snagged the belt on the back of her heel, dragged it back even further before partially dropping down to pick it up, eyes and rifle on him the entire time.

She's gotten a look at his face now, and it's for sure him. And damn, he was a lot bigger than she'd been expecting. Good thing she had brought the cart.

And while he might still have a knife or something on him, she wasn't getting within arms reach for him to use it. So the bounty hunter snags Chester's reins, and gestures towards the water as she backs away with his horse some.

"Alright. You get your drink, Mr. Gentry, and then stand on up, nice and slow." She says, a nod in the direction he'd come from. "We're going for a walk."

 

[DominationSoul]

Cord took his drink of water, stood up, and turned toward the bounty hunter. He had hoped she was an old hag who happened to have an interesting voice. When he saw her, he wanted to curse – for all the good that would do. His first thought was that she was too young to be a bounty hunter and much too cute - if you could call a rattlesnake cute. How had she gained her tracking skills? A slight shiver passed through him.

He loved to sit at his mother's knees and listen to her stories. One of his favorite was of the shadow-walkers, who would never be seen unless they wanted to be noticed.

This bounty hunter was an ordinary woman – nothing more, but something in her voice--

Enough of that nonsense; he decided it was time to think of how to escape and not to remember any more stories. “Look, it's obvious you are a good tracker, but where are all the cattle I am supposed to have taken? From all the tore up ground it's obvious they were here; in fact, the 'real' cattle rustlers have them not far ahead."

He sighed deeply as he walked along.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“Look, it's obvious you are a good tracker, but where are all the cattle I am supposed to have taken? From all the tore up ground it's obvious they were here; in fact, the 'real' cattle rustlers have them not far ahead."

It shouldn’t have been possible, but those vibrant eyes only grew more suspicious as he spoke, a clear look of disbelief-and ire-on her face.

“Conveniently I’m not being paid to return anybody’s cattle, Gentry.” She said flatly in response to what she took to be a poor attempt at a ruse. It used up what little patience she had for such nonsense, and her dropping the ‘Mister’ seemed very, very dangerous. “Just you.”

She was a clear and obvious threat, utterly unamused and unshaken. She makes a second, even more serious faced nod back in the direction he had came. Eyes flat and unamused with his sigh before he finally turned and started that way.

He must have thought she was stupid-whoever he was working with on this theft, she’s not about to trot on up ahead and meet them. This wasn’t a damned suicide mission, and it’s far from the first time someone’s sworn up and down they hadn’t down whatever it was they were accused of doing. Hell, she’d rode up on a cattle rustler stealing cattle once and they’d still tried to deny it was them! No, there’s never any sense in arguing the matter with any of these lawless dogs.

“I’m not a judge or Mr. Dalton, so there’s not much use talking to me about it.” She amends a little politer from somewhere behind him, mollified slightly by his following her instruction. She’s following along at a safe distance, audible only when she spoke and due to Chester’s footfalls. Her rifle was still trained on his back, eyes plenty watchful.

She kept an eye on his horse too, in case a whistle or a command might be given to him. She risked a very brief, very brief glance at the stallion. He walked along just behind her, content enough.

“Luckily for you though, I took this one with the Sheriff and not with one of Mr. Dalton’s cronies.” Though she’s sure they were out after him too, and no one she wants to run into. Things get heated between hunters sometimes, and she didn’t fancy ending up dead.

As for taking the job from the law rather than the rancher-she wasn’t much for lynchings. He’d get his say and probably end up dancing on a rope regardless, but what happened after she handed him over to the law really wasn’t her business.

They walked about a quarter, maybe half a mile back and slightly off his trail-and came up on a metal and wood prison cart, hardly large enough for four full grown men to sit but not quite stand (certainly not one as tall as Cord Gentry), with a heavy padlocked gate at the back, little more than a bucket, a wooden bench, and a dusty bible in the back of it. The horse leading it looked built for work rather than any sort of fast riding-it cast them a disinterested glance and went back to munching oats.

“In you go, slow and smart.” The woman says behind him. “Walk all the way to the back of it and sit on down.” She wouldn’t be getting near it until he was, and then-coming from the side and switching her rifle for her six shooter-she swung the heavy door closed and snapped the lock tight through the chain links.

With a smooth step back and a nod of finality, some of the tension drained out of his captor now that he was locked up tight, and she was a safe distance away from his miniature traveling cell. “Glad we could do this the easy way.”

She holstered the gun and glanced the one in his belt over, unloading and replacing it in its holster-which she then slung over his saddle pommel. He was a rather handsome horse. Least Cord Gentry had good taste in that, she supposed.

She absently reached into the pocket of her oversized soldier’s jacket, then withdrew and offered Chester a sugar cube and a stroke down his nose. “Your boy going to ride along after us, I leave him loose?” The question had much less of an edge than everything else she’d said up to this point.

 

[DominationSoul]

“Yeah, Chester will follow along.”

Cord sat on the small bench in the lock up wagon. With every bounce, his ass hurt a bit more. The roof was low enough he couldn't stand up. He was beginning to think the bounty hunter was looking for every bump to give him a hard ride. He hadn't asked her name and didn't want to know, and so long as it wasn't Elise, he didn't give a damn.

Elise worked the General Mercantile store in Amarillo, which was owned by her father. Cord met her when they were still youngsters; he was 12 and she was 11. He saw her once a month at most when his parents came to town for supplies.

He and Elise hit off and became good friends. When he turned 18, he asked her to marry him and she agreed. They were in the midst of making marriage preparations when she broke it off. She'd met some dude from back east. “I want an easier life,” she said before she left.

It was a short time after that when Cord left home and went to work at the Circle DD ranch. Five years had passed since then, and thoughts of Elise still came to mind much too often.

Now, here he was locked up like an animal with nowhere to go and nothing to do except think. “You got the wrong man,” he yelled, which he tried to do a couple times an hour. Maybe one of these times she would actually hear him. He laughed to himself; this was a hard headed woman – hard hearted too. Maybe he should call her Elise, even if that wasn't her name.

He laughed out loud.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

The woman gave a nod and an appraising look to Chester. “Good name for a horse.” She finally said, turning on her heel and bringing her rifle down off her slim shoulder, tossing it up on the buckboard before she climbed up herself. Her back was now to him, but he couldn’t hope to reach her through the bars. There was just too big a gap between driver and cart, not that he could slip his arm very far through the gaps in the bars anyway.

“Enjoy the ride.” She tosses back as she fixed her hat proper, grabbed up the reins-and gave a “Hah now!” to the weathered workhorse, starting them off. She’s glad this part had gone easy. Trying to catch up to him with his much longer lead and much faster horse, his breakneck pace in spots-well, it hadn’t been a small task. She done it by hardly sleeping these past three days and nights, not wanting to fall too far behind or end up outpaced by one of Dalton’s. It’d been wearing on her since yesterday, but it was just as important to push hard today as it’d been then-at least until she was a ways off the trail he’d left behind. Other than stealth, it was part of why she had left the horse and cart behind. Any other pursuers would hopefully keep on ahead after whatever hooligans he’d been working with, that trail that continued on-and not double back to investigate the single cart tracks that diverted off of it.

She ignored him every time he shouted out about his being innocent, an occasional roll of her eyes or a shake of her head-but it sure didn’t help much with her headache-or her mood, all told. He’d stolen cattle, killed two and grievously injured a third man with or without help-it still wasn’t entirely clear at what point the larger group peeled off ahead of him-and now he’s in her cart caterwauling about her having the wrong man multiple times an hour, and somewhere in there-laughed, though about what she didn’t know.

She didn’t bother arguing with him. She’d come out here to get him and that’s exactly what she’d done. Course, her resolve not to bother was a lot more watered down after six or seven hours of riding, no sleep, and a bad headache. She took them off the main trail a ways, the cloudy sky a blood red orange as the sun dipped lower and lower, night falling around them. He called out about being innocent again-and she pulled the horse to a sudden halt in hopes of knocking him forward and shutting him up.

Christ.

“I already told you, ain’t no use talking to me about it.” She groused as she slipped the rifle over her shoulder again. The lady bounty hunter climbed down from the buckboard and pulled her bag out from the footboard, hauled that over her shoulder too.

“Nothing you say is going to dissuade me from taking you in, which is what I came out here to do." She said matter of factly, steady and self assured as she tossed the bag on the ground, went for the lantern hanging from it's hook, lit it.

Fire first, then the horses, and then a bit of supper before a well deserved bit of shut eye. Not that it'd bring too much respite-she always slept light on the road, and doubly so with a prisoner in tow.

"It'd go against my principles not to finish a job. Not that I suspect you're terribly familiar with principles, Mr. Gentry." She said as she set the lantern down next to her bag, pulled a hatchet from it, mostly ignoring him as she went about her business, heading out of the circle of light to gather sticks, tinder and firewood. It was dark and with the lantern ruining his night vision, there were times he might have half wondered if she had abandoned him, she was so quiet out there-but then there'd come a chopping noise, or a drop of gathered sticks, some sign of life-and he'd know she wasn't straying too far from the cart at all.

~*~

The horses were brushed down and happily working on their own dinner, the fire was going, and his captor had started in on some bacon-looking more than a little tired.

She had removed her coat and slung it over her bag at one end of her bedroll, set her hat next to that. The white button up shirt she had on under it was tucked in loose on one side but not the other, and while loose, he'd still be looking at a surprisingly shapely feminine form, boy clothes or no boy clothes. Previously tucked beneath her coat, it was now apparent she had long blonde hair, the golden tresses braided over one shoulder.

She didn't look like anybody who ought to be out here, working such dangerous, 'tough man's' job like bounty hunting. But there he was in her jail cart.

"You gonna stay civil and not bite me or something, I come give you one of these?" She asked as she slipped bacon in between two pieces of toast, having made two sandwiches up. "Key's not on me, so don't bother." She adds with a shrug.

She considers his size a moment-then puts both sandwiches on the same clean cloth, slapping another few pieces of bread and bacon on the metal stand.

She stands up to bring the two over to him, back to being watchful and only getting as close as absolutely necessary to let him grab the sandwiches, if he even wanted them. Some men were petulant and would rather starve, which never made a lick of sense to her.

He'd note she kept her other hand resting on the butt of her gun.

 

[DominationSoul]

Cord always preferred to keep active; being locked up with nothing to do except think was pure torture. He had directed his memories away from Elise and thought about his childhood, which had occupied the rest of the afternoon.

As daylight faded, the cart left the trail, and as it slowed, he yelled, “Pay attention up there. You got the wrong man.”

The cart jerked to a halt, and he almost fell over.

“I already told you, ain’t no use talking to me about it.”

Her sharp response was about the only one she'd given all day, He ignored her chatter and banter as she prepared her camp. She wasn't listening to him, so why should he listen to her.

At the smell of food cooking, his stomach rumbled, and he wondered if she might feed him, but he held his tongue so as not to piss her off.

"You gonna stay civil and not bite me or something, I come give you one of these?"

Her voice so close by caught his attention immediately. “No, I won't bother you; my stomach thinks my mouth has been disconnected.”

He noted her feminine figure, but this was no time for distractions, especially since she wasn't even close to the type of woman who would catch his attention. Besides she was the one most likely to bite a man rather than give him a kiss. Like kissing a rattlesnake – ouch.

He waited while she placed the sandwiches on a cloth and set it between the bars. As soon as she moved back, he got up and took the food. “Thank you for the food, and could I have some water too?

“Oh, also, there's a bedroll on Chester. Could I have that? I'm sure tonight will be cold.”

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

He waits until she backs off without her telling him to, and she seemed to appreciate it, at least a little-until he asks for some water. Well, that was plenty reasonable actually. “Suppose if I’m not going to starve you, can’t let you die of thirst either-” She started to take half a step back towards her pack-when he also asks about his bedroll.

“Give ‘em an inch-” She mutters, heading to her pack for her canteen, and then giving a considering look to the fire and then to her little sleeping spot she’d set up-before snagging one corner of her bedroll and throwing it over her arm.

She brought both over, surprisingly. “Everything on your horse stays on your horse until I turn you and him in to the Sheriff.” She offered the two items up, shrugged. “Man pulled a knife on my father once, when he gave them a jacket he hadn’t checked over first.” She goes back to her pack and sits down against it. She had the fire and her coat, she’d be alright even if the ground was a little hard and a little cold.

She finished her own sandwich and munched on that, watching the flames.

 

[DominationSoul]

Cord said, “Thanks.” He was surprised by her giving up her bedroll and by her revelations about her father. She was becoming more human. Was that a good thing? He really didn't want to like her – not even a tiny bit. She was like a coiled snake, waiting to strike.

He called out, “What you see in the flames? Anything good? Sort of reminds me of branding time with the irons in the flame. The cows see the flames and start bellowing; they know nothing good is about to happen.

“Like me, seeing the flames, being branded an outlaw, and led to the gallows; not a happy thought.

“I'm sure you've heard it all before, but I am the wrong man.”

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“'Course I've heard it before.” The bounty hunter says with a shrug. “I’ve caught men red handed, and still had them swear up and down they were innocent.” She pops the last bit of supper past her lips, chews thoughtfully before swallowing.

“In this case-cattle went missing, and then two men died. The roughed up third says it was you, that you were leading a rustling gang and that you killed his buddies and beat him- and it was you the law wanted found and brought in. So here we are.”

She looks away from the fire and at him. She’s not angry as she says these things, not as harsh or as flat as earlier. She’s tired, a little matter of fact, and surprisingly practical, if you believed stereotypes about feminine hysteria and flights of fancy.

“As for the gallows or not-I didn’t do this to you, Cord Gentry. You made the choices that led you here, same as I did. And when I look into the dancing fire,” She was still watching him, but made a tired gesture to the firepit- “All I see is burning wood.”

 

[DominationSoul]

Cord could tell in the softer tones of her voice that she was tired. “I understand about not beleiving all you hear, but why do you think the guy on the trail was speaking the truth?

“You say all you see is burning wood, but if you look beyond the fire you will see that the wood was once a living tree. It had aspirations for living a long time; yet, here it is giving up what is left of its existence.

“You know in all this time you have yet to mention your name. Would you care to tell me who you are?”

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“That’s jus’ what the Sheriff told me, and given he’s the law, probably safe to trust in what he says.” She picked up her hat and plopped it on her head, the brim low over her eyes as she stretched a minute-then folded her arms behind her head and leaned back against her bag. “It ain’t like he’s going to lynch you, there’ll be a trial and you can have your say then. It’s nothing personal, Mr. Gentry, just some order in what others would have a lawless territory.”

She’s warm sitting this close to the fire, doesn’t even bother with her coat just yet. Very tired. She can feel it pulling at and deadening her limbs, fogging up her mind.

“You say all you see is burning wood, but if you look beyond the fire you will see that the wood was once a living tree. It had aspirations for living a long time; yet, here it is giving up what is left of its existence.”

She makes a noise of amusement. Not quite a laugh, more a breathe tinged with humor-but that’s all. “Nothing personal against the tree, either.”

“You know in all this time you have yet to mention your name. Would you care to tell me who you are?”

One of her arms leaves the pillowing of her head, grasping her hat and lifting it up off her hat and eyes, fixing him a curious look. “Why, so you can track me down later, they let you off?”

She considers, then figures what the hell-there aren’t exactly a lot of blonde, female bounty hunters out there, not knowing her name wouldn't slow him down too much, he did get out and decide to come after her-which would only earn him a bullet for the trouble, because it wouldn't be the first time it'd happened. “Elise Summers, Cord Gentry." She tipped her hat before dropping it back on her head. "Now we’re good and acquainted, how ‘bout that.”

Summers? There used to be a Bartholomew Summers, a bounty hunter with no small reputation in this territory, or even the one over. There hadn’t been any new stories in the past couple of years, but the old ones got retold often, various bars and smoking lounges. He had earned himself quite the bit of fame, in his younger years. Took out the Williamson gang all on his lonesome, some twenty years ago-something everyone else had thought the Feds would have to come in for. He’d bagged a lot of big names, in his day.

 

[DominationSoul]

“Yeah, a trial, then a hanging. Would be better they hung the right people.”

Cord leaned against the bars of the cart. He had done too much sitting today, and he was not looking forward to tomorrow.

He was not surprised when the bounty hunter didn't respond to his name inquiry. He was surprised that he was enjoying their conversation; perhaps it was the tone of her voice.

“Elise Summers. . . .”

Cord laughed out loud. “God sure has a sense of humor.” Elise likely thought he was nuts.

“Believe it or not, I was engaged to an Elise until she decided I was the wrong man. She decided to marry a man from the East.

“So, one Elise thinks I'm the right man, and the other believed I was the wrong man. Don't know if I should laugh or cry.

“Don't know why I'm telling you, but I struggle letting go of the past. I wanted a wife, family, and a ranch; instead, I can look forward to a rope.

“Enough of that shit. Summers? I think I remember an old guy, bounty hunter. Looked like a tough customer. Never talked to him though. You related?”

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“Or a sadistic streak.” The bounty hunter-now revealed to be another Elise plaguing him- noted unhelpfully and with a shrug. God could be kind, and other times, either ridiculously negligent or straight up cruel. She can never quite figure on which for any given day.

He went on about this other, flighty, unfaithful Elise of his, an apparent one time fiancee-and wondered if he was lying or not. Trying to make her feel bad for him, or maybe trying to lay guilt on her by transmission?

She doesn’t know. Sometimes people thinking they were gonna die just say things, babble. He seems dead certain that’s where this was going, too. Elise supposed it might-there was a lot stacked up against him.

The last bit of confession was for sure genuine, or at least had enough truth in it she believed him. She’s got nothing to say about it-she’s living her best life, mostly. He shouldn’t have gotten into cattle rustling and murder, if he wanted those things, even if he couldn’t have them with whatever girl had left him.

...if this other woman had stayed and he had gotten to marry her, would that have kept him on the straight and narrow? Or was it all inevitable? Elise wasn’t much for preordained destinies, so she didn’t know.

Like she had said-they all made their choices.

He moves on, and she lets him.

“Bart Summers, you mean?” She repressed a yawn before a smile curves her lips, the only one he’d have seen-and proof the woman could, something he may have doubted.

“That was my pop.” There’s no mistaking the bit of pride there. “He taught me everything I know, just about. Same as he would have for a son. My mother wasn't around. Died when I was young."

 

[DominationSoul]

“Death, I understand that. My brother, Lawrence, drowned when he was ten. It was hard on my parents and me.

“It is good you pop was there for you. He taught you well – too well from my point of view.

“Life can be tricky at times, bringing you what you never looked for or expected.

“Consider one thing Elise: what if I am the wrong man? Can you truly live with that for the rest of your life?”

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

That one she does feel bad about. Ten years old and drowned. Damn, if it wasn’t sickness it was violence, and if neither of them-fatal accidents.

“Life can be tricky at times, bringing you what you never looked for or expected.”

“Mmhm.”

“Consider one thing Elise: what if I am the wrong man? Can you truly live with that for the rest of your life?”

“This where the water works come in?” A note of annoyance, again. Here they were having a nice enough chat fireside-ignoring the fact he was locked up in her cart-and he had to go and spoil it. “I told you, Cord Gentry-I’m neither judge nor jury, it’s not up to me to decide who’s innocent and who’s guilty. I’m just doing the job the lawman hired me to do, and you’ll get your day in court once I do it. Sheriff Lauren’ll make sure of that. So I’ll live just fine. It ain’t like I’m working for Dalton, shooting you now and collecting the pay after, or taking you to him to be lynched.”

She yanks her coat off her bag, feeling cold after all-and all but disappears beneath it, just her hat and nose over the collar.

“Now leave me alone-” She grumbles, sour. “I’ve been up damned near three straight days and if I don’t sleep, I’m like to run us both off a cliff.”

 

[DominationSoul]

It had been a very long day, and Cord lay down in the cart, which seemed harder than the ground. Her scent on the bedroll was beyond distracting.

He caught some sleep between long periods lying awake thinking. After a long day of mostly thinking, his mind should have shut off and given him some rest, but it appeared that his mind was also like a snake determined to bite at him with nasty memories.

“Elise, why?” He jerked awake. Damn, the past just refused to leave him alone.

The Mercantile was busy that Saturday. He was happy because Elise would be off at noon, and they could spend the rest of the day together. They would be married in a week.

He knew something was wrong when he saw her face. Normally, she had a bright smile that lit up the room, but today--

Knowing something was wrong, he took her hand, which she pulled away from him. “What's wrong?”

Her answer that she had decided to marry a guy from New York took him by surprise. He felt as if his arm had been cut off. He didn't know that anyone could feel such pain and still live.

As tears ran down his cheeks, Cord wanted to scream. He had lost his love. Why couldn't he put the past away and move on?

He breathed in the woman's scent on the bedroll and closed his eyes.

This Saturday night the bar was filled with drunks, gamblers, and flirty women. Cord stood at the bar. “I'll have a glass of water.”

A short cute woman gave him a look and said, “Water? What kind of man are you?”

“A sensible one. Drink dulls the senses, you know.”

Snakes.

Jerking awake, Cord sat up. “Damned bounty hunter can't even get away from her in my dreams.” But, do I really want to get away from her? That thought was beyond disturbing.

He lay back down again, praying, This time no dreams.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Elise wasn’t in a very talkative mood come morning. She’d gotten some rest in, exhausted enough to have dreamed of nothing and experienced only the blackest blissfulness of sleep-but now it’s a new day, and they have a helluva ways to go.

She’d made coffee and even turned over a jar of the stuff to him (he’s not getting her cup too, he already had her damned canteen) before getting everything hitched and saddled and back together, kicking dirt over her fire and burying it proper before clamboring up onto the buckboard and getting them going again.

~*~

Several hours later, Elise was frowning deeply at what she could see of the sky far ahead and over the crest of the rise. The little cart and Chester had been plodding up a steep incline for about an nearly an hour now, traversing a valley between two large, rocky outcroppings.

The clouds looked mean up there, and there’s that scent of clean on the air, the kind before and after it rains. He’d see her twist to look back the way they’d come, her brow furrowed.

 

[DominationSoul]

Cord didn't sleep well, and he was sore all over. He was grateful for the coffee. Its warmth took a bite off the chill for awhile. He took turns sitting and standing as the cart moved along – neither was comfortable for very long.

Anger and frustration nagged at his mind. The cattle rustlers were getting away with the cattle while he was locked up in the cart. It was just plain not fair. “You got the wrong man,” he yelled, which was a waste of time, but he wasn't ready to give up yet.

Cord's mother had warned him time and again that his temper would get him in trouble. She'd been right of course. He never intended to get into fights in school. They just seemed to break out, and he was usually a part of it.

He couldn't fight against the bars that held him. He needed a miracle, but he given up on those long ago. He wondered if getting shot might be better than getting hung. He sighed. He wasn't ready to die today.

He noted Elise looking around, and that scent of rain in the air was indeed worrisome. The cart would not move well if the track became muddy, but for now, they were moving along at quick pace - too fast for his liking.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Elise didn’t bother responding to that. She’d told him she didn’t buy it. She’d told him it didn’t matter, she was just doing a job, and she’d see it to completion because she had principles. She’d even told him he’d get his chance to defend himself in court-there just wasn’t anything else to say. He wanted her to take him-a cattle rustling, murderin’, no good scoundrel-at his word, and apparently thought she was born yesterday.

She’s heard it all before, and he wasn’t saying anything different than them or himself, yesterday. He had to get that.

Stubborn as a mule and twice as big, damn.

Her mind’s on this storm up ahead, though-the threat of it-she thinks it’s for sure raining now. They’re too far up to turn around, and she’s not sure they’re going to make it before it breaks. Her eyes drop to him looking up at her through the bars, and the two just look at each other for a moment-before she twists back around with a foul curse and whipped the reins against the work horse’s back.

“Hah, hah!” It’s an immediate breakneck pace as the lightning flashes again. Chester bolts past and up the wooded incline to their right-just as the sound of rushing of water swelled-and water broke over their heads too.

It was no use-they didn’t make it to the wider part of the pass before the torrent of water started flowing down the narrow path, a dangerous flash flood that was only a foot or two deep at first before quickly climbing higher, picking the cart up off its wheels and starting to turn it aside despite the best efforts of the panicked work horse and driver. Water would be as high as midcalf on Cord, even inside the cart-and they’re going to tip.

Elise abandoned the reins and climbed onto the buckboard seat, twisting around to make the short jump onto the bars of the cart. Rain was coming down so hard she could hardly see more than fifteen feet beyond the sheets of rain, and she was already soaked to the bone in a plastered down coat that was too big for her. The cart started to tip, the bounty hunter barely getting a grip on the side to keep from sliding off-and then the cart toppled, plunging both of them into the four foot deep rushing rapids that had sprung up out of nowhere.

~*~

Elise cursed, one hand still tight on the bars as the other pulled her closer to the back end of it, letting go to claw into her jacket for a key she wasn’t finding. He’d drown in this goddamned thing like a rat in a trap, and she had meant what she said about his day in court, about real, actual, fair justice.

Dying in the wilderness wasn’t justice for anybody.

She splashed down, but mud and stone immediately washed away under her boots and she lost purchase, the shorter woman nearly washed right on away with it. She can’t find the damned key, her hand was tight on the chain and padlock-and with another growled curse she pulled her six shooter and shot the lock clean off.

 

[DominationSoul]

The sudden increase of the speed of the cart made Cord's ride so much more difficult. Standing was near impossible – even sitting was hard. He gave up and sat on the floor of the cart and gripped the bars hard.

Not much longer after getting on the floor, the cart tipped. If not for his grip on the bars, Cord would have been sent flying. Suddenly, the cart went over on its side. Cord was fortunate that the opposite side from him was in the water.

Elise was in the rushing water, which was pushing her along quickly. Her pistol came up and the shot broke the lock. He was surprised. Only a few people could shoot so well.

He dropped into the water, which was up to his waist. He waded to the cart door, using the bars to keep from falling over. He climbed up to the top of the cart. Chester was already free.

The rush of water in front of the cart was not as heavy. He ran to the front and jumped down to the seat then to the water.

He made it to higher ground. He saw where the stream twisted back on itself. He ran as fast as he could in the direction of where Elise would be carried.

This was a race against time. The water was cold and fast. He had to reach her before the cold leached away her strength.

The direction in which he ran led to a plateau and the stream was about 20 feet below. He couldn't find Elise in the water, but then he saw a huge tree that had fallen into the water. She was clinging to one of the branches.

He went down the plateau cliff quicker than he wanted, but he feared Elise could not last much longer.

He ran toward the tree. Water crashed over it, but there were enough limbs sticking up that he could cling to them and force his way to where Elise hung onto a branch.

Her face had a bit of a white pallor. He reached down and said, “Take my hand.”

He pulled her up and they made their way to solid ground. They were both shivering. He whistled for Chester and said, “We need a fire, now.”

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

The water isn’t deep-she thinks four feet or so- but it is fast, and she just didn’t weigh all that much, can’t get her feet back under her and is having to swim. She doesn’t fight the current too much-just keeps her head above water and her boots up, not wanting to get caught in a rock crevice and drown cause of that.

A dead tree had somehow gotten lifted and out over the path, and she grabs at an extended branch-and growls when her weight hits that shoulder. What had she said last night, about God either having a sense of humor or a sadistic streak? Damn-

She pulled herself forward enough to wrap her other arm around it, the shivers already starting in as the cold water stole away her body heat.

Elise shimmied a little closer to the trunk of the tree, nearly lost her grip-and hugged tighter, taking a minute to breathe-when there was a hell of a lot more splashing coming up on her.

She glanced up and there was the damned cattle rustler, reaching down to help her up! What was he still doing here, didn’t he know a golden opportunity when he saw one?

She made one last attempt to claw at the trunk and stand-but she was just too damned small, and shivering something fierce besides. She had a lot of pride, but not enough to want to die for it.

Elise took his hand.

He hauled her up and kept her from sweeping away again as he led them to one of the newly formed ‘banks’ of the sudden river-and she’d never been more grateful for dry land in her life.

“Th-this d-doesn’t ch-change nothing!” She charged fiercely-despite shivering harder than he was, looking half drowned and still dripping-nearly pouring-water, that giant coat of hers. “S-still t-taking you-” Her numbed fingers reach for her six shooter-and instead find an empty holster. The shivering woman looks briefly confused rather than alarmed, and before she can quite process the situation-she sneezes. On somebody else it would have been adorable.

...even on this woman it was adorable.

 

[DominationSoul]

Cord almost laughed at Elise's stubborn determination to take him in, but there was nothing funny in their situation. Her entire body was shaking and her teeth chattering. She needed heat – right now.

Cord headed for an overhanging cliff, which was on high ground.

https://www.rollanet.org/~conorw/cwome/clifty_creek_bluff_overhang.jpg

It was not much to look at, but it would provide some shelter. Chester arrived about the same time.

Cord found a large flat rock and said, “Sit here for a bit." He hurried to the horse, removed the bedroll, and returned to Elise.

He pulled off her boots and set the blanket beside her. “I'm going to gather wood for a fire. Remove your wet clothes and wrap up in the blanket.”