The Seer And The Stetson

Of Friends and Foes

"Now, Billy rode into town, stopped by a saloon called 'The Gem'. When he finished his drink, he left. Come to find out, his horse had been stolen. Billy walks back in the bar, loosens his guns in the holsters, and says to the barkeep, 'I'm gonna have another drink and if my horse ain't back when I'm finished, I'm gonna do what I dun back in Texas.' Billy finishes his drink and goes out to find the horse is sitting right where he left it. The bartender shouts after 'im, 'Hey partner, what exactly happened in Texas?' Bill turns around and says, 'What the hell do you mean? I had to walk home!'" 

The Sweetens erupt with laughter. Hershal chortled and slapped his thigh. Abigail was more reserved but indulged in a giggle. And although River told that joke a thousand times he couldn't help but chuckle. 

He found the more time he spent with the Sweetens the more they grew on him. He would feel the sting of separation when the time came. Which meant he stayed much longer than he'd meant to. His eyes floated across the bivouac to Ellie.

She returned his look with a contemptuous glare. It would take more than just a few side-splitters to dulcify that woman. She shot to her feet dropping the metal plate in her lap. It clattered loudly against the stony ground.

"Ellie, what's gotten into you?" Abigail asked worriedly.

"'Scuse my ill humor, Mama.  Certain people wear on my damn nerves."

"I outta wash your mouth out, young lady," Abigail hurled the empty threat as Ellie stomped away.

River looked remorsefully at the Sweetens, "I wish to hell I knew what I ever did to get on that woman's wrong side."

"It ain't you, Mr. Collins. That girl's had a wild side from the day she was born." Hershal offered with a shake of his head. 

"Yes, Sir. It took an awful lot of steering to keep our Old Masters' whip from tanning her hide on account of her sass. She never did have a lick of sense," Abigail sighed.

It all made sense but River wasn't convinced that it was Ellie's only problem. "I reckon, Ellie has her reasons for being so peculiar. I wouldn't be so hard on her."

"I wish we woulda met you sooner, Mr. Collins," Abigail said as she collected the soiled dishware. "Then maybe Ellie would have known white folk for something other than cruelty. I'm afraid the only experience she has with people of your persuasion ain't good." 

"That's right. Our old masters were downright brutal but it was the kindness of white folks that helped me get free. It took me a while to understand it and I pray she'll find too that just because two people got the same skin doesn't mean they cut from the same cloth."

River pondered for a moment, "I don't pretend to understand morality the way a preacher or a philosopher does. But, what I do know is that the moment I hear anyone argue the merits of slavery, I feel the strong impulse to have it tried out on them. No man should endure such barbarity." 

"You know, you got a way with words, Mr. Collins," Abigail said with a wistful smile. 

"Ma'am I insist, as your younger, you must call me, River," He stood dusting off his trousers. River's eyes lingered on her. She was a fine-looking woman in her own right. With his appreciative gaze lingering, Abigail blushed fiercely. 

Abigail never could resist a handsome face or flattery of any sort. That's how he won her over. Hershal shook his head. At least, Ellie was made of harder stuff, like his Mama. He felt pity for the man God gave that unenviable task.

"We getting ready to shove off, River." Hershal moved swiftly. He began loading the wagon with supplies. 

"Let me give you a hand, Mr. Sweeten." River offered.

"No. No. No." Abigail scolded, "River, you still healing. I can't have you tear open that wound on account of you trying to play macho. Why don't you fetch Ellie? Let her know we aim to be on the road afore noon."

River's lips pulled into a mischievous grin. He didn't need to be asked twice, "Yessum. I'll fetch 'er quick, fast, and in a hurry." 

"That's the spirit." Hershal chuckled. 

River trotted towards the thicket. If he had to hazard a guess, she'd be down by the lakeside cooling her heels. He found her there not long after staring into the distance. Her face scrunched up adorably into a frown. 

"So, this is where you've disappeared to. Well if I didn't know better, Eleanor I might think you don't like me." River feigned offense, pressing the flat of his palm dramatically to his chest.

Ellie shifted her chin, throwing a black look over her shoulder, "I am not impressed, alright. And you may apply that to whoever you feel may be my reference."

River tittered as he took a few steps toward the shore, "Why you always wound up tighter than a bull's ass in fly season?"

Ellie stood and roughly shook her skirts, "Why don't you go straight to hell, River Collins?"

He moved closer to her, knowing her pride and stubbornness would never allow retreat. "I don't think you mean that."

The sun's light cast against her face. The subtle golden undertone glowed radiantly underneath. Her brown eyes were like polished amber in the afternoon sun and her hair blew like wildfire.

Her lips pushed to a pout, "Don't tell me what the fuck I mean." Her arms folded tightly over her chest. 

River's smile deepened and not for the first time he felt his body react instinctively to her. "How can such a beautiful woman be so mad all the time?" 

"I ain't mad."

He snickered, "Then you gotta mean way of being happy." 

Ellie's face changed all of a sudden. Her grimace fell and her eyes turned to the trees. "Something's wrong-"

A loud bang reverberated through the wilderness. The sound sent a flock of birds scattering for cover. River had been with Clyde long enough to know what that was. It was too close to be anywhere other than the camp.

His hand went to his gun and his heart sunk to his feet. The Sweetens were in danger and it could all be his fault. God forgive him if he was the cause of their troubles. He grabbed Ellie pulling her down for cover as they moved for the trees. Out on the open shore, they were easy targets. 

"What...What the fuck was that?" Ellie whispered, her eyes wide with fright, clenching his hand. And perhaps for the first time, she followed him without dissent. 

"You know what that was Ellie." He said with a gun already in hand and fully cocked. "Whatever it is, we gonna sort it the fuck out. That I guarantee. Just stay quiet and stay behind me." 

He continued moving them toward the camp when she pulled his wrist, "But my Mama and my Papi..."

"Will be alright." He turned to her. His large hands cradled her face. "Ellie don't go all weak-kneed and delicate on me. Where is the gun-totting, foul-mouthed wench that nearly killed me the moment I met her?" 

First, her jaw, then her fist clenched. The resolve return to her eyes. She had had her moment of panic now she was ready to fight. 

"Listen, we don't know what's going on up there but I'll need you to be my second gun. You got me?" He handed her his other pistol.

Ellie worked the weapon expertly with one hand "Yeah. I gotcha."