Twisted Hills by Ralph Cotton

Author:Ralph Cotton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group, USA
Published: 2014-02-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

For two days and nights the Ranger rested, recuperating from the countless bruises, cuts, abrasions and pain that being run to exhaustion and dragged through the rocky hill country had brought upon him. On the third day, seeing that he was fully conscious and more able to get around on his own, Lilith placed a tin cup of coffee in front of him and seated herself on the blanket beside him.

“I must leave here and return to Agua Fría for a day,” she’d told him.

Sam just looked at her.

“I will be missed by business owners who are expecting me,” she explained. “Soon someone will come looking. It is always better to not be noticed.”

Sam nodded and sipped his coffee.

“Also, it is how I support myself,” she said. “Aside from peddling home goods, I sharpen anything that requires an edge. ‘Axes, knifes, scissors or saws, Lilith Tettovia sharpens them all.’” She smiled as she quoted her business slogan. “It is the trade I learned from my father, and he from his father before him.”

“I understand,” Sam said. “It’s what you were doing when I saw you outside the mercantile.”

“Yes,” she said, an air of resolve in her voice. “And it is what I will be doing until the day I die.” As she spoke, she reached her fingertips to his bruised forehead and pushed aside a strand of his hair. “I have come to accept that we are all what we are. I was short with you when we left each other on the trail. For that, I apologize. I know you are one of those men, yet I feel there is something different about you.” She paused, then added, “I hope I am right.”

Sam studied her face in the glow of the small fire. A sadness had shown itself in her dark eyes, then vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Was there something else there, he asked himself, something between them?

Yes. He believed there was. He only returned her gaze in silence. There was nothing more he could tell her, about himself, about why he was here, about how far he actually was from being the kind of man she’d labeled him to be.

After a moment, she stepped away from him, back to the horse.

“Anyway,” she said, “you will be all right here. I should be back in two days.” She took a small four-shot pepperbox vest gun from under her shawl and handed it to him. “There is a panther who thinks this ruins belongs to her. If she gets unruly with you, just scare her away with this if you can.”

“I generally get along with critters,” Sam said, turning the small gun in his hand. “If you see a chance, please check on my dun at the livery.” He hefted the little pepperbox. “And if you happen upon a real gun somewhere . . . ?”

“Of course, if I can,” she said. She stood up and walked to where Andre stood chewing on a mouthful of dry wild grass she’d carried and piled in front of him.

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