Wild at Heart by Layce Gardner & Saxon Bennett

Author:Layce Gardner & Saxon Bennett [Gardner, Layce & Bennett, Saxon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Square Pegs Ink
Published: 2015-10-03T04:00:00+00:00

***

Half an hour crawled by and that’s when things went all topsy-turvy. I was playing solitaire and Calamity was reading Don Quixote. It just goes to prove that when you think about something one way, it’ll sure enough change on you.

A horse nickered from outside and neither one of us paid it any mind. All of a sudden, the door flew open and a huge man stood in the entrance. He shouted, “This is a stick-up! Throw your hands over your head!”

Calamity jumped a mile in the air and when she landed she shouted, “Bill, you old goat!”

It was none other than Wild Bill Hickok standing there. I recognized him right off. He looked exactly like his wanted poster and probably had the most famous countenance in the West if you weren’t counting Buffalo Bill Cody.

Wild Bill cut quite the figure. He was dressed head to toe in buckskin and fringe with his ivory-handled revolvers belted on the outside of his jacket and tied down to his thighs. He wore his straw-colored hair tucked behind his ears with ringlets of curls drooping over both shoulders. He had a well-waxed mustache and the rest of his face was clean-shaven. His hat had a cupola-shaped crown with a pencil-rolled wide brim. I had never seen a hat quite like it. I had always said you could tell a man by the hat he wore, and if that is true, Wild Bill was a man used to attention yet possessed of the fortitude to back up his legend. He was a big man, well over six foot tall, but it was his personality that made him seem gigantic. Even though it was empty, the saloon felt crowded as soon as he walked through the doors.

“Why if it ain’t my old friend, Calamity Jane!” Wild Bill said in a booming baritone. He took off his hat and bowed deeply from the waist like he was standing before an audience of appreciating fans and collecting roses thrown at his feet. And if it weren’t for the fact that he almost fell on his face I wouldn’t have ever known he was three sheets to the wind.

Calamity exclaimed, “I’ll be double-damned! Just the man I was hoping to run into.” She greeted Bill with a bear hug and he pounded her on the back. “So what brings you clear up to Deadwood?” she asked. “I thought you was on the stage with that old windbag, Cody.”

I made myself scarce back behind the bar. I collected my shotgun and reloaded it on the sly. Not that I was planning on using it, but outlaws are like ants at a picnic—where there’s two of them, there’s bound to be more coming along shortly.

“What happened,” Calamity continued, “Cody close down his Wild West show?”

“Aw, I quit that a while back.” He pulled a half-empty pint of whiskey out of his jacket pocket. “Got tired of shooting tomatoes and tin cans all day.” He uncorked the bottle and took a nip.

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