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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Larkspur: A Sidewinder Tale - 6. Chapter 6 Started with a Posse

You sure about that?

Started with a Posse

 

 

“One of you boys gonna tell me what that was all about?” Will’s attention was fixed on the spot where Mitch had disappeared into the woods. “And where the hell does he think he’s going? Gosh darn it, that man ain’t changed a bit—I’ve a good mind to make him….” He stopped speaking, quickly going from being rankled to looking lost, so much so that he took an unsteady step back, like a drunk man might do in order to maintain his balance.

Boone and Coy exchanged uncertain looks before Boone decided to give the mill owner some advice. “Leave him be for now, Will. I know that weren’t an easy conversation, but he’s just angered, is all. He didn’t like being caught unawares, and that’s more our fault than yourn.”

Will turned his head Boone’s way, standing straighter again. His brow was creased. “Yep, he’s angry—no doubt for that—and I’ve seen him fly off the handle plenty, but that’s not what I’m talking about. He said I better hightail it out of here while the gitting’s good… if’n I didn’t want to watch him die? So… either of you care to explain why he’d say such a thing? Is he in some sort of trouble?”

“We can’t… I mean… he’s not in any trouble that we’ve heard of. We don’t know what he meant… don’t think… not sure he was meaning anything,” Coy answered, looking sheepish as hell to Boone. He was terrible at lying too. “I reckon he’s just angered like Boone said.”

Will had trouble turning his back to the woods, but he did, finally facing them. Their answers were met with a measuring gaze, so much like the one the sheriff would have used if he didn’t believe them. “Why is he here, in Larkspur?”

“Ah… we… I suspect he wanted a change. We knew him in Red Bluff. He was good friends with the old fellas who took us under their wing… ah… they were panners, but my brother Will shot them dead and took the gold they had stashed.”

“Well, I reckon that’s quite a story—heard some of it from you before—but what in holy hell does it have to do with him coming to Larkspur?”

“Mitch… he was, uh… well he was the sheriff there,” Coy answered, his stammering sounding suspicious.

Will’s eyes narrowed to slits as he stared Coy down. “Sheriff, eh? Course he was. So… what in tarnation happened? Did he get run out of town, because the man I know wouldn’t ever quit? If’n I don’t know anything, I know that much!”

Will had always seemed a patient man to Boone, but he was showing none of it at that moment, and in all fairness, he didn’t blame him. Mitch’s parting words had scared him, sure and certain. “Know for a fact he wasn’t run off,” Boone answered quickly, and softly. “He was a fine sheriff—ran a tight town—but he was fair.”

“Cares most about running a tight town, that’s for sure,” Will said, a sour expression on his face. The next questions came quick. “Then why did he leave? Is someone after him? Come on, Boone! You must know something?” Will’s attention was now completely focused on him, and Boone had trouble meeting his gaze.

He finally did, though, and lied through his teeth. “Sorry, Will. I wish I could help, but you’ll have to ask him yourself. We have too much respect for the man to pry, but I don’t believe someone’s after him. He don’t act like there is... seems he just wants a change like Coy was saying, and that’s what brought him to these parts.”

“Not buying it. There’s something you boys ain’t telling me.” After shaking his head back and forth, he returned to watching the woods, a frustrated sigh blasting out of him.

Coy stepped in, and Boone was relieved. He didn’t want to have to do any more lying to their friend, but he would. Might be he thought Will deserved to know Mitch was sick, but the sheriff felt they’d already betrayed his trust—that was plenty clear—and he wasn’t about to do it again. Dying was his secret to keep.

“So you were his deputy?” Coy asked.

“What?”

“Mitch said you were his deputy?”

“I was. It was way back—a lifetime ago now.”

“Is that how you two met?”

“Huh? Oh... no. Not exactly.” His shoulders, held tense-like, suddenly dropped, and his attention shifted away from the woods. Blowing out another long breath what didn’t sound so angry, he got to explaining in a softer voice. ”Got stinking drunk one night, first time I drank whiskey in my life, and Mitch cared enough to lock me up for the night. Likely would have got shot dead if he hadn’t.”

“So then how did you end up his deputy?”

“I… we… I got to know him after that. Something… something good happened between us—didn’t even know I was looking for it till I laid eyes on him that next morning. The way he looked at me made me feel I’d been throwed by a bronc onto hard ground.” He mumbled something Boone couldn’t quite hear, and then cleared his throat. “I… ah… came to the decision it was the best way to protect him, not that he would admit to needing any help.

“Tried to turn me down, but I weren’t having it. Buffalo Springs was a rough place. Made Larkspur look like a Sunday-go-to-meeting town. There was always gunfights and killings… trouble of some kind or another just about every time the sun went down.

“Nothing but a nasty bunch of thieves and killers who used the town for hiding out, getting drunk, and visiting the whorehouse. Most of them lived to cause a ruckus, and Mitchell wasn’t standing for it—would go charging into the middle of everything with no fear for his own self.” He mumbled something else that ended in, “crazy fool.”

“The decent folk relied on him, the ones who didn’t take the stage out of town, and the whores did too, but they expected too much from one man. No matter what I said, he would just tell me it was his sworn duty to protect them all.” Wincing at the memory, he turned back towards the woods the sheriff had disappeared into. “He didn’t have a lick of sense back then and probably still don’t.”

Boone stared at the man’s broad back a minute, feeling compassion for his pain. “Strikes me he’s plenty smart, Will. Red Bluff could be a rough town too. Train brings all kinds of trouble.”

“Oh, he’s smart for sure.” Will went back to facing them, not so anguished-looking as before. “He’s clever, I ain’t denying that at all—and he was damn good at his job—but he has this sense of right and wrong he could never set aside, even when it meant he was likely to get hisself killed.”

“I wonder why that is?” Coy asked, his curiosity clear.

“No need to wonder like I did. Lord knows I tried to reason with him for his own good. Pestered him with that same question enough times he finally gave me an answer. He told me a story one night, when I asked him once more to quit and head west with me. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why he kept turning me down… after all the things he’d said to me.” Will’s head tilted away again and his eyes squeezed shut.

They waited for him to get hold of hisself. When his eyes opened back up, Boone noticed the normally bright blue had become closer to gray, and they shone wet.

He checked the spot Mitch disappeared before clearing his throat and spitting. When he continued, his voice was strong and his gaze direct. “Started with a posse.”

“Posse?” Coy asked. “What posse?”

Mitch spat again. “One rode through his farm when Mitchell was just a boy, led by a tough old sheriff named Diggs. Never forgot that name. The way he told it, they was chasing some bank robbers who’d taken two women as hostages. One of those was Mitch’s cousin, only a couple of years older than him—still a girl—and more like a sister.

“He wanted to go with them, but of course he couldn’t, being so young. He even tried to follow the posse after they left, but his pa caught him and gave him a whooping. Weeks later they came back the same way with four dead bodies tied to horses, and the two women alive and well… ‘cepting they’d been spoiled by every one of the four—his cousin wouldn’t speak a word to anyone for years. Was still hard for him to speak of such when he told me.

“Anyways, he saw Sheriff Diggs as a genuine hero and decided then and there he wasn’t going to be no farmer like his pa. He was going to be a lawman when he was old enough, and no one was going to talk him out of it. A couple of years later his ma and pa were killed for their horses on the ride home from church and that settled it for him. Weren’t anyone to stop him from doing what he wanted anymore, so that’s what he did. He never caught those who killed his parents, but it weren’t for lack of trying. He found the horses, traded to some farmer for new mounts, but the trail went cold soon after. Don’t think he ever got over not being able to avenge them.”

Boone swallowed down some emotion the story had stirred. He understood the sheriff a good bit better now. “That surely explains his dedication to the law for all these years.”

“Yep, it does, and I understood why he was like a dog with a bone, but there comes a point when a fellow….” His words stopped, and again he looked lost, like a man with serious regrets. Boone saw guilt there too.

“You loved him? Will?”

Will seemed caught off guard by the question, but he met Coy’s gaze and didn’t flinch. “It’s a tough thing to say out loud. Is what Mitch said about you fellas true… what you share?”

“Nobody in this world more important to me than Boone. Yep, it’s true.”

“Same for me, Will. We love each other—we don’t let it be known, people being what they are, but we ain’t ashamed neither. We don’t know the why of it, but we do know it’s right for us.”

The big man nodded. “You shouldn’t be ashamed… and I never was neither, even though it weren’t something I could speak of. Truth be told, it ain’t no surprise to me. Weren’t my business, but I was pretty sure you two shared more than farms. Sometimes I believe like knows like, leastwise we see what others don’t, you know?”

Boone knew exactly what he meant, and nodded his understanding.

“So yes, Coy, I loved him. Fact is, I still do—all it took was seeing him again to be certain of it—and he loved me too once and told me so, but he sure ain’t feeling the same now.”

“You sure about that?” Boone asked. “Seems to me he was all kinds of shook when he saw you, and it weren’t hard to see feelings there.”

“The feelings I saw were anger. He’s right. I rode away with no explanation. I was a coward not to tell him straight—didn’t trust myself not to give in—but he deserved better than that. Went looking for him almost a year later, but folks told me he’d turned his badge in and rode out of town months before, without saying a word to no one about where he was going. Went from town to town looking, but he was on the wind.

“When I ended up here, I decided to stay put in case he was looking for me. Larkspur weren’t near as big as it is now, but I could see it would grow. I bought the mill after a fire burned it half down, and first thing I did once I got the new framing up was change the sign so I could put my name up there in big letters. Hoped Mitchell would see it if he came through town—or that someone else would remember my name if he ever asked about me. At the least, the mill kept me busy while I waited.”

Boone shared another look with Coy, and could see he was just as affected by the man’s story as he was.

“Then you got to make damn sure he knows that.”

“I just told him.”

“No, not that I heard, not all of it. Weren’t enough to tell him you were sorry. After all these years, you got to show him how you feel—tell him how you looked for him—and about the sign,” Coy said softly. “That man is hurting—same as you—and you need to do something about it. You need to convince him to stick around, and not go riding off somewhere by his lonesome.”

Will’s lowered eyes rose, and they narrowed as he pinned Coy with his gaze. “You’re worried about him,” he accused.

“Worried? Of course I am. He’s plenty upset right now.”

“No sir, it’s more than that.”

Coy sighed. “There’s nothing more I can tell you, Will. You’ll have to talk to Mitch.”

Will’s gaze moved back and forth between them, but they weren’t budging, and he appeared to come to that conclusion. “And just how do I do that? You saw how he was. He won’t listen to me and he sure as hell won’t talk to me, and besides… more than twenty years has passed.”

“So? You went looking for him once, and now he’s found you, and it don’t matter now how many years it took. You think it was easy for Boone and me? Hell, we was so far apart at one time it took the hand of God to get us right. I ain’t proud of it, but I hauled off and punched him after our first kiss.

“The thing is, we didn’t give up, and if you still love that man, then you can’t neither. We don’t know him the way you do, but he’s a good friend—he’s family—and he deserves to find some happiness. Maybe that’s you and maybe it ain’t—might be you’ll just be friends—but you won’t know until you set him down and show him how right it could be. Don’t seem at all finished between you, not the way it deserves to be.”

Will’s eyes had widened as he listened to Coy. “Didn’t know you could speak like a preacher.” His lips curled up slightly in an almost smile before it faded. “Maybe he has someone else… maybe there’s another who’s in his heart?”

“Don’t think so. As far as we know, he’s been alone a long time.”

“You sure?”

“I think we would know if there was someone else, so yes, I’m sure he’s alone. Might be you can change that.”

“Nothing I’d like better, Coy. Ain’t like I’ve ever felt this way for anyone else… never run across another like him. Don’t know how to go about it, though.”

“Want some advice?”

“Ain’t that what you been spouting?” he asked with some humor in eyes that looked a little bluer.

“I suppose I have been at that. So, do you want some more?”

“I’m as lost as a lamb in a herd of cattle, so I’d be obliged to you.”

“All right, then. Come back tomorrow after you’re done your work… if you can. This time we’ll warn him you might show up, and if he decides to take another walk, you’ll have to come the next night.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“No idea. It’ll be up to you whether it does. Nothing to be gained by quitting on him, though. If he asks us about our conversation, is there anything you want us to keep to ourselves?”

Will’s gaze flicked back and forth between Boone and Coy. “You fellas can answer any questions he might have.”

“We’ll do that. Wish we could ask you to share supper with us—”

“No… no… don’t worry for it. Wouldn’t want to make him feel bushwhacked again, not today. I know the man… and I expect he’ll be storming about for a while yet. ”

“Sorry, Will,” Boone said, shooting Coy a glance. “Want to go fishing with me upriver?”

“Thanks, but got no interest in fishing at all. I’ll head back to the mill and get a bit more work done. Should cool down some by the time I get back. Tell Mitchell… well… tell him I still want to talk if he’s willing.”

“We’ll make sure he knows,” Coy said.

Watching him mount and ride out was hard. Coy slid his arm around Boone’s waist and squeezed. “Might be you were right. I never should have opened my mouth to Alan.”

“No, I think you did the right thing.”

“You do? Why? That was powerful bad for the both of them.”

“No doubt for that, but I think it would have been such no matter how it happened. The fact is, they’ve seen each other after more than twenty years and Will still loves him. Can’t say for certain, but I’d be willing to wager Mitch has those same feelings, maybe just buried a mite deeper cause of how it ended. You don’t get that riled if'n you don’t care.”

“I suppose. You get me riled all the time.”

“No more than you rile me.”

They both chuckled. “Reckon I’ll do the cooking tonight. Salted beaver stew with the last of our turnip? I’ll cook it outside so the cabin don’t heat up, and make up a mess of fried biscuits too.”

“Sounds good to me. While it’s cooking we can milk Maysie and put the mares and foals in.”

“It’s a little early for putting the horses in, ain’t it?”

“Yep, but Mitch might want to talk tonight. If our chores are done, we can sit around the fire after we eat… folks tend to say what’s on their minds when there’s flames reaching for the sky.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Hope he comes back 'fore too long.”

“Don’t fret. He needs some time to get his thoughts settled. Expect it’s hard for him.”

“I reckon you’re right. Will said pretty much the same. Reckon I’ll split some of that wood now.”

“No, you’ll not be doing such, Coy.”

“I won’t?”

“Not if you want Mitch to stay. He offered to do it, otherwise he’ll have to camp by the river, remember?”

“I remember, but—”

“No buts. No need to treat him like he’s dying—like he said, he needs to live until it happens. So let’s leave it for him like we agreed, all right? Ain’t going to hurt him none, and he’s smart enough to stop if it does. We’ll cut some hay instead.”

Coy nodded and smiled. “I need to stop thinking he’s going to die if he pushes himself. Time I admit sometimes you’re way smarter than me.”

“Not very often, but a time or two I am. Coy?”

"Yep?"

"Will was right... you can speak like a preacher, and you done good soothing that man's soul when he was beside hisself."

Coy leaned in and kissed him. His eyes were open same as Coy's, and it felt like he was staring right into Boone's own soul. "Learned such from you and your sweet-talking ways."

Boone could feel his soft lips curl, and chuckled as their mouths separated. "A man has to have something worth sweet-talking to, and I surely do have that."

"There you go again. I swear you got a well of them words inside you."

"The well inside me is filled with love for you, Coy. Ain't no room for anything else."

Coy stared at him open-mouthed for a few seconds before his eyes softened to deep blue pools. "I reckon I understand exactly what you're saying, Boone. Got one of those full ones myself."

 

*

Thanks for reading. I hope you all are enjoying this story. Cheers!
Copyright © 2021 Headstall; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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5 hours ago, Headstall said:

Yee haw! One of those stallions is definitely ornery. :yes:  Boone and Coy are doing their best, but what happens from here will likely depend on Mitch's willingness to engage. The B and C counseling service is on standby for now. :P  Thanks, Ivor... happy to hear you liked this chapter. Cheers! G. :hug: 

Gary, I like all your chapters, but I can't always think of something original to say to express that. :)

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