Out Of Nowhere - A Larry Stylinson story

Headed East

Harry arrived back at the ranch feeling like ten times a fool. He'd been shot down by a stranger. A stranger with no memory, at that.

He put his gelding away while experiencing a deeper shade of remorse. But it couldn't be disputed that he'd asked Louis at least twice, if not three times, to come back with him. He'd done what he could. The decision was in Louis' hands now.

He sat in front of the telly, trying to watch it. The morning chores were done, thanks to Louis. He didn't feel like grooming horses, cleaning and oiling tack, or anything else he could or should have been doing. The guilt kept building until it began to smother him. It seemed Louis and guilt went together.

What would become of Louis? He couldn't allow himself to dwell on it. It was probably for the best. That strange, unsettling feeling he got when around Louis couldn't be healthy. It disarmed him and made him feel like a pervert. It was best the bloke was gone.

But as the afternoon wore on, all he could think about was Louis sleeping out in the open and not knowing if anyone was even looking for him. He had to admit that he felt responsible - it was that simple.

After the evening feedings, Harry gave his best gelding enough time to eat, which delayed him by nearly an hour, and, swearing under his breath, saddled the animal and headed out to find Louis.

But wait, which way had Louis gone? When he'd turned his horse to come back home, Louis had been going east. But had he turned around again and gone west? Harry had not looked out in the direction of the pasture so he didn't know if he'd had ridden by.

Nothing he could do but assume Louis had continued riding east. He left extra chicken feed in the coop in case he wasn't back by morning. He also threw extra hay at all the horses and other animals, and locked Monkey in his outdoor run with food and water and his doghouse. He wanted to leave him in the house, but if he was gone for a while, the dog would need to go out.

After contemplating it one more time, he decided heading east was his best bet. He toted along two - 2 liter bottles of water and a bag of miscellaneous snacks. He was determined to find Louis – even if it took a couple of days. But as he rode, following hoof prints that had to be Louis' mare, the light began to fade, and before long, he lost track of the hoofprints. He wished he'd thought to bring a flashlight. He'd been in such a rush . . . It was getting cold too.

He passed Mr. McElray's ranch, and saw the outline of the older man heading back to his house after what Harry assumed was his last check on his animals for the day. He envied him. He wanted to be home, not chasing some half-cocked nitwit who was obstinate as most mules he'd known. He hollered at the man anyway.

"Hey! Did you see anyone ride by here on a black mare?"

Mr. McElray paused and looked back at Harry, confused, squinting his eyes, realizing at last who was yelling at him.

"Yeah, uh, sometime this afternoon, someone on a black horse stopped and got a drink from one of my waterers. I'd turned it on and gone into the barn as it was filling. He left before I could get out of the barn and run him off."

"Know what time that was?" asked Harry.

Mr. McElray clearly wanted to get into this house, tired from his day's work.

"Don't reckon I remember," and his voice had gotten gritty with annoyance.

One last request. "Mind if I water my horse?" he asked, knowing he was pushing it.

"I don't care," Mr. McElray grumbled, but stayed put to watch Harry warily.

When his horse had had his fill of water, Harry nodded his thanks and rode on. At least now, he knew for sure he was going the same way Louis was.