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Jason opened his mouth to reply but made the wise choice for once and shut up. He perched in a chair at the table nearest to Gray’s. Not an ideal situation, but as long as he kept his mouth shut, Gray wouldn’t fuss about it.
He gathered up his newly dealt cards and joined in the game. The other men playing didn’t dare object. After a few hands, they seemed to realize that Gray wasn’t going to kill them if he lost, and he actually got some decent play out of them. Even better, he won several good hands. The money would come in handy. It was definitely time to move on. But in the meantime, he intended to enjoy an evening of good cards and piss-warm mineral water.
The night dragged on long enough that Jason fell asleep at his table. Gray smiled, startling the man who sat nearest him. He resisted the urge to grumble. He smiled occasionally. People acted like it was the second comin’ of God or something if he happened to show his teeth.
Now the reason for the smilewasa miracle, if a minor one. He’d been prepared to tie Jason to the table leg in order to escape him if necessary. Leaving while he slept would be much simpler. Not that he was sneaking out by any means. Gunmen of Quick Shot’s caliber did not sneak. But he also preferred to keep his life as simple as possible and having to lose Jason was a tiresome complication. Removing that complication without having to kill the little shit was a reason for celebration.
Gray nodded at the barkeep for one last drink.
He was parched but still should have known better and high-tailed it out of there the second things had started going his way. But no, he had to push his luck.
And now the argument that had sprung up behind him had turned into a full-blown fight. Gray stared into his cup while the sound of fists meeting flesh echoed behind him.
“Why don’t you do something?” Jason said, skidding to a halt beside him.
Great. Now the kid was awake and breathing down his neck again.
Gray shrugged. “Not my fight.”
Jason opened his mouth to argue, but Gray held up a finger and finished his drink while Jason watched, mouth hanging open.
Gray glanced over Jason’s shoulder at the commotion. “Duck,” he said.
“Wha—?” Jason gasped and ducked half a second before a chair flew over his head and crashed into the bar.
Gray decided to take advantage of Jason’s distraction and gathered his money and gun and walked out right through the middle of the chaos. The seething mass of fighting townspeople paid him no mind, parting around him to open a path like Moses had when parting a particularly unruly sea. Even in the midst of their drunken and distracted foolishness, their instincts kept them from provoking the biggest predator in the room.
Okay. Maybe the kid had a point. There were a few perks to the whole “infamous gunslinger” bit.
Gray took a few moments to tie the reins of Jason’s horse in an exceptionally tenacious knot. It wouldn’t stop him, but it’d slow him down enough to give Gray a head start. He had several good hours of light left before he’d need to hunker down for the night. With any luck, the kid would have no idea in which direction he’d gone and would have reservations about traveling only a couple of hours before dark. Gray would be up at the first sign of light, too.
He untied his own horse and tried to turn her head from the clump of grass she gnawed on. But the old nag wasn’t having it.
“You’re gettin’ to be more trouble than you’re worth, girl, you know that?” he said, yanking on the reins again.
The horse’s only response was to toss her head hard enough to jerk the reins from his hand so she could go back to her grass. Gray briefly debated leaving her where she was and taking Jason’s horse instead. But horse thieving was a sin even a gunfighter, at least this particular gunfighter, wasn’t willing to commit.
He gripped his horse’s bridle and brought his face close to hers. “All right, Birdie, listen up. I’m goin’ to mount, and you and I are goin’ to ride our asses outta this town before that snot-nosed little weasel makes his way out of that saloon, or I’m going to drop you off at the first glue factory I come across. Got it?”
Birdie blew a nostril full of hot air into his face, but she didn’t go back to her patch of grass, so Gray assumed she understood. He mounted up and turned her west. Thankfully, she didn’t test him further. She was all smoke and hot air. Exasperating, stubborn nag though she was, Birdie was about all he had in the world that was truly his. They’d been through a lot together. Probably why she hated him. But he’d hate to lose her, so as long as she continued to drag his sorry butt where he needed to go, they’d get along just fine.
There was no need to stop at the boarding house where he’d been staying. He’d paid for a week in advance and preferred to let the old woman who ran the joint keep the money than risk being waylaid on his way out of town.
As for his belongings…everything he owned was in his saddle bags. He traveled light. Had never been in one place long enough to need more than he could carry with him. Hopefully, that would change one of these days. If he could ever find a place to settle.
He let Birdie have her head while his mind wandered, drifting back to what Jason had said. If Gray was honest with himself, something he tried never to be, for a variety reasons, he would admit that in his more ignorant youth he had enjoyed several aspects of his notoriety. It didn’t hurt to have men fear you when no one had your back. And there were always the ladies who enjoyed a dangerous but charming man.
But it had gone on long enough. Hell, most gunfighters were dead before they hit thirty-five and he was several years past that. If he wasn’t gonna die in some street somewhere, he needed a good place to live out the rest of his days.
About the time his butt started going numb, Birdie crested a hill that overlooked a small but seemingly neat and tidy town. Gray pulled the mare to a halt near a sign that hung half off its post. The wordDesolationhad been burned into it, and he chuckled. Maybe it was named that to discourage people from visiting. Definitely sounded like his kind of place.
Then again, it wasn’t much to look at, from the distance where he sat, at least. There was a street of sorts boasting the kind of buildings that’d be found in any town. Nothing particularly ramshackle about the place, but nothing overly nice, either. Still…he took a deep breath and tilted his head up to the blue sky. Something about the place called to him. Maybe because he was already well acquainted with desolation. It just felt…right.
Suddenly, Birdie took off in a trot, and Gray opened his eyes and gripped the reins.
“What the hell… Oh.” The nag was heading right for an orchard of apple trees a ways down the hill.
Gray sighed. Apples were not his favorite. In fact, he usually avoided them at all costs. However…his stomach rumbled. It had been a while since he’d eaten and frankly, he didn’t want to try and change Birdie’s mind. She would rather chew her own leg off than do what Gray wanted under most circumstances. He really didn’t want to see what she’d do if he tried to keep her from an orchard full of treats.
