Chapter 38

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Vicky bounced along reading when she could and trying not to be bored out of her mind the rest of her waking hours. At Tejon, Vicky was glad to get out and stretch her legs a little. She heard the shotgun rider tell the driver he was staying behind with the other passengers. That left only Vicky and the driver.

"Miss, you best be climbing back inside if you're taking this stage. I'm leaving in a few minutes."

"I'm a pretty good hand with horses and a rifle. I'd like to ride up top with you for a spell if you don't mind." She politely made her request hoping for yes but knowing he would say no.

"Miss, I can't say I wouldn't like the company of a pretty girl like you, but up top is no place for a lady. It's rough and hard and as for the rifle, I don't have one for you anyway."

"It's not that rough. I rode up top the whole way from St. Louis in the first place. Besides, I have my own rifle if you can spare a minute for me to get it out of my trunk."

"Miss, I don't mean to argue with a lady, but we don't have time to unpack the stage so you can go digging through your trunk. I think you'd best get inside now."

"I'll get on the stage." She turned and walked toward the stage. She looked back and saw the driver go inside for a moment, no doubt to tell them that the crazy lady with the guns wanted to ride up top. She smiled and ran to the stage.

Lickety-split, she climbed up top and crawled over the bags to her trunk. She only had to move one other bag to open it. Right on top were her rifle and a box of cartridges. Before the driver returned, she'd closed the trunk and returned the bag that was on top of it.

She stashed her box of cartridges in her secret pocket. Since she wore her gun belt, the large pocket meant to conceal her pistol was empty. When the driver returned, she was waiting for him up top with the butt of the rifle resting on her thigh, the barrel pointed to the sky. He was irritated when he saw her and began to protest.

"Look lady. It's all good and well you got a rifle, but it won't do you a darn blast bit of good if you can't use it! Now get down and climb inside where a woman belongs!"

He seemed unintimidated by the fact she wore a pistol on her hip and held a rifle in her hands. Vicky felt her temper stir. She was a woman again which meant she would never be taken at her word regarding her abilities. Unlike Vic, Vicky would have to prove herself in order to be taken seriously.

If that's the way the no good stinking son of a coyote wants it, FINE!

"You don't think I can use it? See that cactus yonder, the one between the station and the corral?" He looked where she pointed the barrel of her rifle.

"Lady, I see it, but that don't make no never mind. It's too far for you to hit from there anyways even if you was able to handle that gun." He shook his head dismissing her.

"I'm going to pick the fruit from the end of that large leaf part. Now shut up and watch."

He didn't reply but he spat on the ground and a look of disgust cast a dark cloud over him. He turned his head and watched. One by one she picked the fruit without damaging the leaf part they grew from. Her repeat rifle performed beautifully.

"I'm not only able to handle this rifle, Mister, I'm a crack shot with it." Anger and sarcasm dripped from the title of respect, "I proved as much to Mr. Butterfield's representative back in St. Louis. I was on the first stage that left, with Mr. Butterfield himself inside."

She was being rude and smug but she didn't care. He deserved it. He'd really gotten her dander up. To keep from shooting his hat off for spite, she shucked the empty shells to the ground and reloaded swiftly.

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