The Wild Boys Trilogy by David Sharp

Author:David Sharp
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: glbt, erotic romance
Publisher: Beau to Beau Publishing
Published: 2012-11-10T06:00:00+00:00

Trail’s End

There is no getting off this goddamned trail till the end of the line.

The thought hardens Dusty Calhoun’s heart as he watches the lone rider approach from the Wind River Reservation from the west. He is ‘sitting on the hill’. At least that’s what Lobo of the Sioux Nation calls it. Squinting, he can make out the tiny figure leaving a trail of dust crossing the difficult path along the rocky slopes and he pictures the native’s brown skin and worn tribal wear. A screech from above draws his attention away to a circling hawk in the cloudless sky.

“I reckon that is my spirit animal,” Dusty dryly mutters aloud, half cynical but cautious of the spirit world, and looking back down, he adds, “What the hell, Lobo, you ain’t supposed to be here for another day…must be bad news.”

Dusty looks over the grand mountain vista of the Dakota Territory, the grey and brown rocks meet with grass and pine. All are inspiring but dry, a thirsty kind of dry. Putting the thought aside, he leaves the needs of his body behind and thinks.

Calm…calm and cold as steel…That’s what I am.

Dusty’s body is tanned and scarred, clad only in a loin cloth, with sweat glistening off of his renewed flesh. He licks the salt from his lips and runs a hand down his slick chest, stopping to explore the deep scars on his abdomen. The hawk screeches again, the rider is still a ways off, and the third day without food or water has its effect. Dusty loses time and place returning to the brutal past in his head.

The searing pain bursts in Dusty’s mid torso followed by the boom of the gunshot and the smell of gunpowder and burnt skin. In shock, he watches the blood spray out of him in front of the moving train as other shots echo out around him and he almost loses his gun, loose fingers curled around the Remington’s grip. One Eyed Walker, the eye-patch going against the grain of his official capacity reflected by the tin star, has a knowing look in his good eye that the shot counted and he slams shut the rail car door. The blood flows between Dusty’s fingers and hearing Jake scream, he looks up and over, and seeing his anguished cowboy makes it all the worse. The firm hand of Frank, the once farm hand, pulls Jake back out of harm’s way as Dusty is blinded by the fire that engulfs part of the train. The flames are hot and close. A horse whooshes by as Dusty stumbles into the outstretched arms of a rider in black and is pulled over the side of the running horse. Guns are a blazing. The sight of Jake and Frank is lost in the smoke.

The voice of the dark rider is familiar. “You keep pressure on that, darling.” The veil flaps back enough to get a wink and a smile out of Misty.

Dusty tries to speak but the pain hurts something deep and it must be bad.

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