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Chancellor Riggin 3: A Peaceful Life |
| Written by Cory | |
| Tuesday, 04 March 2008 | |
The Peaceful Life As the marshal rode towards me my dun whimpered slightly. I believe with all my heart he knew where this was going. The dun was my best and only friend. We had been together since the ambush of Cherokees. I always promised myself I would go back and visit the graves of Janice and Herby Riggin, but I can’t ever make myself go. It seems like I lost the peaceful life then, but Johnny and I worked together as best as possible. We herded cattle for the Flying Y brand. It was the happiest either of us had been since the passing of our parents, but Johnny soon grew ill, and it was just the dun and me. The dun’s whimpers soon took me back to the present. The marshal rode towards us faster than he did before. I saw Garret and he was reaching for his holster area. I knew what would happen and I wanted to be as far away from Garret Feind as possible. The marshal reached us and Garret’s hand was next to his holster still. He looked at Garret and then me. He was old; about 40ish and his horse was an older grey. He had a rifle strapped near his leg, and a six shooter in plain sight as was his badge. “ Howdy boys. What brings you into this country?” the marshal asked. “ Business trip.” Garret said ever so coldly. The marshal studied Garret for a few minutes and if he hadn’t spoke up when he did, I believe Garret would have shot him. “ This here is a rough route boys, it’s Apache country. Town called Torris not far from here, I’ll accompany you that way.” “ I’m heading east.” I spoke up. This startled the marshal some. “ How old are you boy?” he asked. He looked through my rough skin and aged personality and saw my one weakness for people to know. “ Old enough to own 1,000 head of cattle out east and if I don’t get close to home tonight I believe somebody may be losing a shiny badge.” I replied slyly. I was 15 but didn’t like people to know I was so young. The marshal watched me for a moment and then said, “ He a cowhand” motioning towards Garret. “ Yeah.” I bluntly said. He studied Garret a moment longer and then said, “ Watch the canyon. Apaches everywhere.” He then rode off. Garret looked at me puzzled and then said, “ We’re gonna make a good team Chance.” He kicked up his horse, a short stubby sorrel, and rode on east at a good run. He was avoiding my remark and I knew it. At that point in time, I began to hate Garret Feind even more, but I knew I must remain with him until I could arrive to Missouri. I kicked up my trusty dun, and followed Garret remembering the day I killed my first Cherokee. The horseman was riding up to our wagon with his war party and he fired a rifle. It hit my mother in the chest, and I shot him in the head for spite. I hoped off my dun and landed in the wagon. I tended to my mother while Johnny and my father fought the last 4 Indians. I remember my mother’s last words. Don’t be a killer. The next day Johnny was passed out from a wound and I buried our parents in a beautiful spot under a tree, overlooking country for miles. My dun came back and was happy to see me alive. When I saw the horse come back I finally cried, and the horse comforted me, as I rubbed his beautiful hide. I loaded up the dun with supplies, weapons, and Johnny. I led the dun for 6 days. Johnny came in and out of consciousness, and soon we arrived at the Flying Y ranch. I snapped back to reality whenever I saw a bullet hit Garret Feind in the neck, and I knew trouble had found me. Copyright 2008 Cory |
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| Last Updated ( Tuesday, 04 March 2008 ) |
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