Wade Garrison's Promise by Richard Greene

Author:Richard Greene [Greene, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2014-05-29T20:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

It was midmorning when the five men stopped at the top of a small hill overlooking a farmhouse, barn, corral, and chicken coop a quarter mile from the stage road that led back to Santa Fe. Frank Wells had taken out his long glass, as had Marshal Billy French, and both men looked at the scene below.

“Looks quiet,” said French as he took the long glass away from his eye.

“Uh-huh,” replied Wells, still looking through his.

Wade thought of the peaceful settings at the cabin, and the Miller farm, imagining what waited for them inside this house.

Seeing someone step outside, Frank put the long glass to his right eye. “It’s a woman.”

Marshal French put his long glass back to one eye as she walked to the end of the porch and raised her hand, shielding the sun from her eyes as she looked in their direction. “Looks like whoever it is, has seen us.”

French lowered the long glass and looked at Frank Wells. “Looks determined.”

“Don’t they all?” replied Frank with humor as he watched her.

“Let’s get down there,” said Billy. He stuffed his glass into his saddlebags, spurred his horse to a walk, and headed down the hill.

While the others followed, Frank stared at the figure on the porch a moment longer, put his glass away, nudged the half-breed’s horse he now owned and followed.

The woman stood on the edge of the porch with one hand over her eyes and watched the five men as they slowly rode down the hill. Wondering who they might be, she disappeared inside and reappeared moments later, holding a double-barrel shotgun across her faded, brown, gingham dress and dirty, white apron.

Seeing the gun, Frank leaned in his saddle toward Wade. “Never did trust a female with a shotgun.”

Wade half-smiled, finding humor in Frank while feeling relieved she was alive.

She was a woman of forty with big bones, looking sturdy and unafraid of hard work, with dark brown hair cut short, needing little attention. Her eyes were brown and large, like that of a deer, her lips full, and her complexion dark from the sun and only slightly wrinkled. As the five men rode closer, she raised the gun, pointed it at them, and said, “Best stop right there.”

Marshal French pulled up, raised his right hand for the others to stop, settled in his saddle, and tried to look friendly. “Morning, ma’am.” He took off his hat, pulled his tan duster to one side, exposing his badge. “I’m United States, Marshal Billy French, from Santa Fe. This here’s my Deputy Todd Jewett, and these others are friends of mine.”

She looked at the badge, then at French and the others, lowered the shotgun, and smiled as she stepped from the porch. “My man ain’t around right now, and a woman alone with children can’t be too careful these days.”

“That’s true enough,” said French. “Mind if we get down?”

She smiled. “Please do. Name’s Sally Arden. My man Joseph and our son Chad are out looking for our goats that somehow got out last night.

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