Terror of the Mountain Man by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2014-10-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

The Wide Loop

When the last horse was broken, and trained by Old Mo to be an effective cow pony, Tom Byrd decided to have a barbeque to tell Smoke and the others good-bye. To that end, half a steer was spitted and placed over a fire early in the morning, and the men took turns slowly rotating the meat throughout the entire day.

The ranch was permeated with the rich aroma of cooking meat, those smells augmented by the pies and pastries that were also being prepared.

Cal and Katrina found a place under a tree where they could be relatively alone.

As Katrina put the food out onto the two plates, Cal stretched out on his side, supporting his head on his hand, his body close to hers. His hat lay beside him, and his hair, dampened by the warmth of the summer day, was forming haphazard curls against his forehead. She reached out to brush the dark brown hair aside, and when she did he caught her hand. Without a word being said, she leaned forward to kiss him. It was neither demanding nor hesitant, but the kiss of two people who had grown quite comfortable with each other.

“All of your friends will see us,” Katrina said. “Does that bother you?”

“No. They’ll all be jealous of me,” Cal said. “Let ’em look all they want.”

They kissed again.

“For cryin’ out loud, Cal, let the girl eat, will you? She’s goin’ to starve to death, if you don’t quit kissin’ her,” Pearlie called, and the other cowboys laughed.

Cal sat up quickly.

“Why, Cal, you’re blushing!” Katrina said. “And here I thought you said you didn’t care if your friends were watching.”

“It’s you I’m thinkin’ about,” Cal said. “I don’t want you to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed at all,” Katrina said, leaning forward to kiss him again.

After the meal the cowboys engaged in various activities, such as throwing horseshoes, lassoing, and shooting at targets. Then Old Mo surprised everyone when he produced a bow and a quiver of arrows.

“Where did that come from?” Pearlie asked.

“I found a good limb on that hickory tree by the barn,” Old Mo said. “So I made myself a bow.”

He showed the bow to the others, and several commented on how smooth the wood was, and the quality of the workmanship.

“Mo, can you actually shoot that thing?” Stan asked.

“I can shoot it.”

“Shoot at something,” Stan challenged.

Mo fitted an arrow into the string, then looked around. “What would you like me to shoot at?” he asked.

The name of the ranch, THE WIDE LOOP, was painted on the barn, just above the wide door opening. Stan pointed to the painted sign. “Can you hit one of the O’s in that sign?”

“Which O?”

“The first one.”

“Come on, Stan,” Cal said. “That’s more ’n a hundred yards away. Most folks would be doing well to hit that with a rifle. Find something else.”

“No, it’s all right,” Old Mo said. “I’ll do it for ’im.”

Old Mo lifted the bow, pulled the string back, sighted along the arrow, then lifted his fingers.

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