Love and Other Foolhardy Hobbies [On Hold]

Chapter IV

The man jumps out of the way just in time to miss the sharp points of the pitchfork. It is so close that my weapon catches his shirt and rips an inch or so. It is the man that tried to shoot me not two minutes ago. I curse the fact that I missed.

“Watch it! Ya coulda stabbed me.”

I keep the pitchfork pointed at One-Eye. “That was kind of the point.”

He holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “What if I was ta say that I don’t mean you no harm? Well, I did. But we--” he points up to the loft where another man --Dimple-Cheek-- leans over the edge, his eyes wide in surprise. “--don’t.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Your intentions could not in any way affect mine.”

One-Eye smirks and leans against the door of the stall. He crosses his arms, watching me expectantly. Even though he doesn’t currently seem antagonistic, I keep the farming tool at the ready. 

“Do ya try to kill all your visitors?” he asks.

“Only those that have massacred everyone I’ve known and tried to murder me as well.” I sneer and spit on his boot.

He looks down at his dirty boot and wipes it on the back of his pant leg. “Well, ya just tried to fork out my heart, so I’d hafta say we’re even.”

“Even? Even?” I take a step forward, poised to skewer him like a thanksgiving chicken. 

But the man from the loft suddenly jumps in the way. “Stop! Please.”

I stop my advance but don’t lower my weapon. 

“I’m not going to argue that my brother doesn’t deserve to be run through with a pitchfork --because he does--”

“Thanks for defendin’ me,” a voice mutters from behind Dimple-Cheek. 

He ignores him. “--but he’s my brother and I kind of won’t let you.”

“And I kind of don’t mind skewering both of you like prairie chickens,” I warn him.

One-Eye sighs and glances at me with raised brows. “Sounds delicious.” 

I grin joylessly. “It is. And so is vengeance.” I leap forward, the pitchfork an extension of my arm. 

Both men jump out of the way at the exact same moment. But One-Eye grabs the pitchfork’s handle just above my hand and yanks it forward. I stumble forward and barrel into the stall door. Pain pierces my forehead and I slump to the ground. I try to open my eyes but a metallic liquid drips into them. 

“You... you...” I try to think of the worst word possible to say to the man but my mind does not seem to be working fast enough. It takes all my effort to stay awake. Even with my eyes clamped shut, I can feel darkness clouding over my sight.

He winces. “Oops.”

“You idiot!” Dimple-Cheek growls, and his hands are suddenly around my waist, hoisting me into a sitting position and leaning me against the stall door. A splashing sound rings out from Polly’s stall behind me and a cool damp cloth is applied to my forehead. I suck in a breath as the water stings but as the blood is slowly wiped away, I finally manage to open my eyes. 

Dimple-Cheek leans down in front of me, a bloody cloth in his hands and a worried twinkle in his eye. I look over his shoulder. One-Eye hasn’t moved an inch, still leaning against the stall that had been my hiding place. His nose is wrinkled and from the disgust in his eyes, I’d say the blood is affecting more than the actual injury. The twinkle in his eye is purely out of amusement. I scowl at him. He winks back.