But this time he is close, ten yards at most. “You step back from that stallion, real slow.” The stallion. Yes. He wants the horse, but fears that he might miss. Otherwise just shoot me in the back, you dang fool. I turn slow and catch his slight frame at the edge of my vision. “Hold it there! You get them mitts up.” I do as I’m told. He does not know that he has already lost. I cluck a soft breath from my lips, but it is enough for Storm to hear. The stallion tightens up closer to me. “I said, get away from the damn horse.” “I can’t help if he follows me.” Lem straightens up, dust covering his face, his limbs moving stiff from the cramped hiding place on the backside of the berm. A Remington rifle jitters in his arms, shoulder height. “You think you’re smart? Showing me up like you done. Well, who’s smart now? I’mma be taking that horse. I’ll stud him. Then I’ll gut him. And ain’t a damn thing your dead red body gonna say about it neither. And that money too.”
