WYOMING TERRITORY, 1868

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since I had last seen Bella. Two weeks of sitting in our camp doing absolutely nothing.

I refused to move from my spot on the cave floor. I was just stuck here thinking about what I could have said or could have done. I could have apologized for shouting at her. For saying the things I had said. I started wondering if she would have understood what I had gone through. Maybe I should have told her. Maybe there was still time to tell her.

I couldn't count how many times I had got up to go into town and talk with her. The farthest I had gone was putting the saddle on my horse, only to stop and think. I pictured her calling me more awful names, worse than 'common criminal'. I saw her turning her back on me, telling me to take my problems somewhere else. Every time I saw her disappointed face like it had been in the alley all those days ago. She would order me to get out and I knew that I couldn't take that rejection.

I dreamed about her every night and thought about her every day. Sometimes I thought I saw her walking into the cave, that beautiful smile on her face. She held out her hand and asked me what I was doing sitting in the dirt. She told me that Charles was looking for me. She told me that he wanted to see his deputy and his son-in-law again. That was the point where I broke out of my dream, be they day or night. And that was just what they were. Dreams. I was not the deputy and I was most definitely not Bella's husband. I didn't know why our marriage was included in my dream. It just made this all the more confusing.

I wondered what Bella would say if I told her what had happened all those years ago. Would she blame me for Harry's death like I did? Would she turn her back on me? Would she comfort me? Would she tell me she believed me to be a good and honest man? No. She wouldn't understand!

And telling her about what had happened…I didn't even know if I could explain the story. Reliving that day was just too much for me. Seeing the shock on Harry's innocent face. Watching his lifeless body fall from his horse and slam to the ground. Watching the red of his blood seeping through his perfectly white shirt. The things I could have done to save him! I should have seen the look in James's eyes. I should have known the man was crazy enough to shoot an innocent kid. I should have saved Harry!

I felt my eyes watering as I thought about my partner. Sniffing loudly and swallowing repeatedly helped me keep the tears from falling but I still had to rub at my eyes and breathe heavily to keep them dry. My throat was constricted and my chest burned with the emotion I refused to show. I thought of myself as a hypocrite after what I had told Whit. I never let out my feelings so why should he?

The sound of scattering pebbles and crunching boots alerted me to Carty's presence. I quickly got my hat and placed it on my head so it covered my red eyes. Carty wasn't one to talk about feelings. He was more of a man's man, one that didn't talk about feelings and silly things such as those. So there was no reason to flaunt my weakened appearance in front of him. I'd rather hide it. To Carty a man was supposed to tough as nails. If he had woes he kept it to himself and drowned it away in either female companionship or in a full bottle of whisky. Carty had done both when it came to his Rose but neither had seemed to really help him. Although he looked jovial on the outside, his heart was still breaking. Knowing the man for as long I did made me see right through his façade.

Carty came into view, three dead rabbits held in one of his hands. He grinned widely, holding up his catches. "Got three of these out of the four traps I laid!" he exclaimed, chuckling with joy as he brought them into the cave.

I just nodded at him as he sat himself down across the cave to lay out his treasures. Of course he didn't notice my sour mood, too excited about the rabbits. "Want to help me skin them?" he asked without looking at me. He'd already brought out his knife and was ready to start.

I shook my head and he merely shrugged before starting to work. "If the kid gets back with that new pot, we might be able to have soup with one of these little hoppers!" he said. "If he ever does get back, that is."

Carty was right. Whit's trips into town seemed to be get longer and longer. We usually sent the kid into Forks to buy the supplies that we couldn't find or steal. Whit wasn't an outlaw like Carty and I. If there were anyone searching for him it would be his long lost family members. So far there had been no reports of a missing man with Whit's description. After he joined us it was like he was starting a whole new life. No one knew him in Forks so he was safe to walk around as himself. When people asked about him he just said he lived on his own ranch a ways away. No one ever had enough time to question him a lot, except for one young woman.

Alice Brandon, daughter of a horse tamer named Wilfred and his wife Olive, was quite the little lady. She had an older brother (Elijah) and sister (Georgia) as well as a younger sister (Kittie). Out of all her siblings, she was the one that enjoyed her father's job the most. She was odd around town since she rarely wore dresses, using her father's trousers and shirts instead. She was also a tiny thing, not reaching five feet but still able to intimidate anyone that came near her. If I wasn't mistaken, Whit was quite taken with her. Every time he came back from town he would have a sort of dreamy look on his face. I myself was actually wondering when he'd bite the bullet and marry the girl. That had yet to happen.

Whether it could actually happen was yet to be seen. It wasn't like Whit had enough money to take care of a woman let alone buy some land to build a house on. We stole to survive and I suddenly wondered if Whit would be able to adapt to a real working life. He'd been with us for so long that I didn't even know what kind of regular job he could do. Could he tame horses? Could he herd cattle? Had he been trained by his father to become something other than a musician? It was frightening to think that he may be a thief for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, both Carty and I heard the sound of thundering hooves outside the cave. Someone was near our hideout. I pulled out my pistol and went to investigate, leaving Carty in the cave to keep watch there. I edged around the cave wall, my gun at the ready, listening to the snorting of the horse and the sound of the rider's boots hitting the ground as he dismounted. I had to be ready for anything. If when I peered out from between the branches of the bushes surrounding the entrance to the cave and saw one of our enemies I would have the element of surprise and the ability to have a fast takedown.

So with my back pressed against the rock of the cave wall, I leaned forward to see through the thinnest part of the bushes…and sighed in relief.

Whit was leading my black stallion towards the hidden place where we kept the horses. He was humming to himself as he tied the animal to a tree, allowing it to drink from the small stream, before pulling the supplies he had bought off the saddle and on to his own back. He trudged through the bushes and came face to face with me and my pistol. He looked surprised, jumping slightly before laughing lightly.

"Jesus," he chuckled, hiking the bag of supplies further up on his shoulder. "You near made my heart jump out of my chest!"

I rolled my eyes before leading the way back into the cave. "You're the one that scared us, kid," I said. "And watch your language."

Whit just rolled his eyes as if he didn't care. I probably didn't have the right to talk like that. Both Carty and I were avid cursers. I just didn't want the kid to become like us.

We came around the corner to find Carty standing at the ready with his bloody knife in hand. He sighed and shook his head before muttering to himself about something I couldn't hear. He sat himself down on the cave floor again and continued on his work with the rabbits. "Took you long enough," he said loudly.

"I had much to do today," Whit replied, letting the bag fall at his feet.

The recognizable clang of an iron pot made Carty look up. "Well at least you got what we asked for," he grunted. "Even if it took you…must've been three hours."

"I had…things to attend to," the kid muttered, his face oddly pink as he dug into his bag.

I raised my brow at him but he was too busy taking things out of the bag to notice me. I had to speak to actually get his attention. "So why did you take so long to get back here?" I asked.

The kid coughed and didn't look at me as he answered. "I…uh…metAliceandtalkedtoher."

Carty and I looked at one another, neither one of us hearing a word that he'd said so quickly. "What was that?" I questioned.

Whit swallowed before standing up straight and looking me in the eye. "I met Alice and had a talk with her."

"Is that so?" I said with a chuckle. "You talked with Crazy Alice Brandon?"

"She's not crazy," he said defensively. "She's the most intelligent woman I have ever talked to."

Carty and I raised our eyebrows at one another. Although Whit liked to talk about Alice he never got so defensive about her. What had happened in town? Something different obviously.

"Let's just leave that topic to rest," Whit said. "I got something more important to tell you."

He sat himself down by the unlit fire, untying the new pot from his bag before dragging some dry wood over to start a new fire. I dropped down beside him, waiting for the important news.

He took his time lighting the fire and blowing on it to keep it alive. When the flames finally grew to his liking he began to talk. "I was talking with the general store owner," he started. "You know how he and everyone else in town loves gossip. Well since I was the only one around who didn't know about the news, he naturally couldn't keep his yap shut." – he fed a few more branches to the fire – "Apparently the Sheriff's office is holding a…competition of sorts."

I frowned. "What kind of competition?"

"Well the general store owner said there would be racing, roping and some shooting," Whit said. "I don't know who would sign up for it though. From what I heard, most of the men are wanting to be spectators. Apparently the prize is hefty, though. Fifty dollars the last time I checked."

My eyes widened. "Is that so?"

"Seems kind of odd as to why the Sheriff is having it," Whit went on, but I wasn't listening anymore.

A competition where the whole town would be present…including Bella. Just thinking about her made me remember her face when I'd left her. I would do anything to take away what I had said. I desperately wanted her to like me again. I wanted to impress her. Immediately the competition came to my mind. I could show her I wasn't just a common criminal. I could show her that I could do other things. I could race horses, rope cattle…sort of. I'd hardly grown up on a ranch but that wouldn't stop me. I'd impress her, or die trying. I'd show her that I was a man worthy of her affections.

"When is it?" I demanded, stopping Whit mid sentence.

He looked at me before frowning. "You are not considering signing up, are you Cullen?"

I smirked at him. "I'm not only going to sign up, kid," I said. "I'm going to win."

"The Hell you are!" Carty shouted suddenly. He stood up and came over to Whit and I. "This doesn't feel right, Cullen. None of us should be up there on that day. Someone might recognize us."

I grinned before rubbing my hand over the full beard that had grown in across my face. "No one will recognize me under this, Carty," I said. Other than Bella that is. "I'll get myself the perfect disguise."

"No," Carty said firmly. "Just no. It's not safe for any of us!"

I glared at him, getting to my feet. We faced off for the first time in a long time. I couldn't remember the last time that we had fought. Carty always agreed with my ideas. But here he was standing up against me. "I don't like your tone, Carty," I snarled.

"And I don't like your idea," he growled back.

"Well my idea will bring us more money than we've ever gotten before!" I shouted.

"It'll lead to nothing but trouble, damn it!" he cursed. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

I gritted my teeth, trying to hold back the insults about him being a drunk. "Fine," I snapped. "I don't need your help. I can do it all on my own."

"I'd like to see you try," he growled.

We both grunted at each other before turning away and going to different sides of the cave. Whit looked back and forth between us, a little worried judging by his expression. I ignored his looks and sat myself down in the dirt, beginning to think of a plan. I needed to get signed up. That meant I needed a new name. Then I'd have to get myself a new horse, one I actually owned so that the real owner would spot with his animal. Did I have enough money for that? I'd have to check our funds later. I'd also need to pick up new clothes so I wouldn't be recognized. However, my beard and growing hair made me seem more and more like a mountain man. I couldn't help but chuckle at that, feeling giddy about my newest (and probably best) idea.

"Cullen?"

I looked up and noticed Whit crouched beside me with that worried look still on his young face.

"You sure this is a good idea?" he asked.

I smiled at him. "It's not only a good idea, it's my best idea."

"Uh, that's all well and good Cullen but how exactly does it benefit us?"

"The money, Whit!" I chuckled. "With that much money we could by us some land, build a house and start our own ranch if we wanted to. That's something your Alice would like, huh?"

His face turned pink again. "My Alice?"

I smiled at him. "Don't pretend, kid. We can see right through you."

He ducked his head in embarrassment. "Well…" he murmured. "I suppose…you might need some help getting ready for this."

I grinned at him before ruffling his hair. "It's good to have you on my side, Whit," I said.

He shrugged. "I'm not taking sides. I don't like that you may be risking your neck for this money but I respect you, Cullen. I know that you're doing the right thing."

"Yeah," I muttered. "The right thing…"

The next few days were filled with preparations. Whit and I made up a whole new identity for me.

"So what's your name?" the kid asked before heading into town to sign me up.

I paused for a moment to think before grinning widely. When Bella and I were children we used to play games where we made up names. "Dust," I said slowly. "Dust Stormer." She would know it was me right away.

Carty laughed loudly from across the cave. "You don't think they're that stupid, do you? They'll see right through that name!"

Apparently Carty was wrong about their intelligence. Whit went into Forks and signed me up easily, stating that he was a friend of mine and that I wasn't in town at that moment. They accepted my name, no matter how odd it sounded. I was now officially in the competition.

The next step was to buy a horse. Carty wasn't happy that I was using our funds to buy the animal and neither was I. I really wanted to bring my black stallion since I was used to the animal but I could be spotted with the stolen horse. That would not bode well for my fake identity.

Luckily Whit had an in with the best horse ranch around. That in, of course, was Alice Brandon. She was happy to talk to her father about 'Dust' buying a horse.

After picking up some new clothes, Whit took me to the Brandon's ranch north of Forks. By this time, my beard had grown in fully and my hair was just past my jaw line. The brighter coloured clothing felt odd to put on after wearing black for so many years. But, along with my facial hair, it did change my appearance dramatically.

The Brandon's ranch was on a small plot of land with the stables being bigger than the house itself. A fenced off paddock was attached to the stables and was filled with different coloured, grazing horses. We rode up on two of our stolen horses, although we knew that the Brandon's would have no idea that's what they were. Wilfred, Alice's father, greeted us by the stables with a large grin. He was happy to be getting customers, it was obvious.

"Good morning, gentlemen!" he called as Whit and I stepped off our horses. "Welcome to the ranch! You must be Mr. Stormer, am I right?"

"Yes you are," I said with a smile and a handshake.

"And Jasper! It's good to see you again!" Wilfred said, shaking Whit's hand with fervor.

I raised my brow at the friendly way Wilfred was talking to Whit. They were on a first name basis? The kid simply shrugged as he greeted Mr. Brandon. Apparently Alice wasn't the only one the kid knew well.

"So I hear you're looking for a horse to race in that upcoming contest that the Sheriff's holding," Wilfred said to me.

"That'd be right," I answered.

The old man rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he moved forward to pat my stallion's neck. "He seems like a good strong animal," he said. "Why not race him?"

"I'm looking for fast not strong, Mr. Brandon," I said. "But if you'd rather we took our business elsewhere…"

"Oh good God no!" the man laughed nervously, patting my arm. "If you're looking for fast then you sure came to the right place!" Wilfred left us to jog over to the stables. "Alice! Bring on out the Thoroughbred, will you?"

He came running back over to us, a little out of breath. "You're gonna love this one, Mr. Stormer," he chuckled. "This stallion has winner written all over him! His daddy raced in the Phoenix Stakes* for three years! Ain't that something? And his momma, she was one of them fancy carriage pullers back east. She was real strong and had plenty of spirit. I bought them both way back when and bred them together to create this handsome devil."

Suddenly Alice came riding out on a tall grey horse. The animal snorted and shook it's great head, tossing his black mane back at forth as Alice pulled him to a stop before us. I was instantly intrigued by the horse who seemed to ride very well. Patting his nose gently, I ran my hand over his neck and chest before checking his legs. He seemed to be in good working order.

"He's a fine animal, Mr. Brandon," I said, patting the horse's rump.

"Isn't he just?" he laughed. "Why don't you go ahead and give him a try, huh? See if he's fast enough for you?"

I nodded and Alice slipped off (with the help of a very flustered Whit) allowing me to pull myself into the saddle. I gently kicked my heel against the horse's belly and he responded quickly, moving towards the paddock that Mr. Brandon motioned to. Before long we were racing around in circles. The man was right! This was one fast and agile horse!

When I finally had enough I brought him back to where everyone was waiting. "He's just what I need, Mr. Brandon," I said.

"Good!" he cried, moving forward to take the stallion's reins. "So what is he worth to you?"

I thought for a moment. "Thirty," I finally said.

Wilfred frowned. "Thirty?" he questioned. "I would think he was worth more."

"Then name your price," I said.

He paused to think before nodding to himself. "Sixty."

"Sixty?" I laughed. "That's more than the winnings at the competition. Come now, Mr. Brandon. You could make me a better price."

"But Mr. Stormer," he said. "It's been rough lately. I've got a wife and two girls to take care of…"

I jumped off the horse to face the man. "Name your new price," I said.

Wilfred bit his lip as he thought. "Fifty."

"Thirty-five," I countered.

"Forty-five."

"Forty," I said. "And that's my final offer."

He paused for another moment before nodding. "It's a deal," he said.

So the horse was signed over to me allowing Whit and I to bring him back to camp. I spent the last few days before the competition riding him, testing his real speed, agility and strength. I practiced for the different events until I was sure I had each in the bag. There was only three so I didn't have to worry about losing. I was going to win it.

Carty, however, was doubtful. He believed that I'd be caught sooner rather than later. He didn't talk to me other than insulting or warning me about my supposedly terrible idea. I just ignored him and focused on the task at hand.

When the day finally arrived, I was nervous as hell. Did I really practice enough? Was I ready to even compete? I couldn't know until the time finally came.

That morning, Carty was spouting out things about how I would fail and everything would go to Hell. Being stuck in the cave with him was making me doubt my plan even more. What if I did get caught? What if my disguise wasn't enough? But I had been planning it all for far too long to back out now. I was going to win…for Bella.

I managed to convince Whit to stay behind with Carty when the kid really wanted to come along and watch my back. I told him that I needed him at the cave incase Carty got drunk again and did something stupid. My real reason was to keep the kid safe incase my plan did go to Hell. I didn't want to risk innocent Whit's life like I did with Harry.

Finally it was time for me to go into Forks. I said my goodbyes (to Whit because Carty still ignored me) and rode off into town.

Forks was filled with people from town, surrounding ranches and beyond. I'd never seen so many in one place. The main street was crowded with people, so many that I had to take the alleyway to get to the actual arena. The competition took place in a large fenced off area next to the Sheriff's office. There were a few benches around the paddock where people were already sitting to wait for the games to start. Others, who weren't so lucky, were standing or leaning against the fences.

I rode over to where a few of the Sheriff's officers were standing, one of them with a piece of paper that named everyone who was in the competition. I rode over to them and they looked up when I approached.

"I'm here to compete," I said loudly so they could hear me over the other conversations.

"Name?" one of them asked.

"Dust Stormer," I answered.

The men raised their eyebrows at my name. They knew it was odd but there were worse names out there. "Right," the officer said after checking the sheet. "Go in."

One of the other men opened the gate to the paddock, allowing me to ride in. So far nobody had recognized me so I took that as a good thing.

Riding into the arena I suddenly felt nervous. There were just so many people watching me including the other four contestants.

The two men on the far right seemed very usual. They looked like farmhands from one of the local ranches. Their horses were in quite good shape so I wondered if the ranch owner made them enter to collect the winnings for himself. Maybe they signed up themselves to finally buy their own land, like my gang was thinking of doing. They were regular sorts of men. I could barely tell them apart. That was how normal they were. They both had brown, short hair and dirty clothes, with floppy hats that covered most of their face. The only way I could tell them apart was by the horses they rode. One was on a chestnut mare while another was on a gold gelding.

The man next to them was completely different. He was a rich, that was for sure. He wore clothing that you never would have thought a man would wear at a rough and dirty competition like this one. His black jacket and pants were spotless and his tie was tied perfectly. His back was straight and his head was held high as he stared at the people around him in disgust. His black hair was greased back, allowing his hat to sit at a perfect angle on his head. He would surely be losing that hat in the competition.

But even his horse was perfect. He was a white stallion with a braided mane and tail. The animal was forced to keep it's head upright, since his master was pulling tightly on the reins. I felt sorry for the poor thing. That was not how you treated such a beautiful animal.

The last man, or should I say boy, was looking very pitiful next to the tall white stallion. He had to be just seventeen, maybe even sixteen. He was slumped over on his tired pony as if he had the whole world on his shoulders. A sudden picture of Harry flashed into my mind when I looked at the boy. They were so alike, although Harry always had so much more spirit. He'd always seemed more alive…

Shaking my head, I tried to forget about those thoughts. I guided my horse until he stood next to the sullen boy and waited for the games to begin.

My eyes searched the audience; looking for those brown eyes I adored so much. I spotted her right away. She was sitting on a bench at the other end of the arena talking to Alice Brandon of all people. Like always she looked beautiful in her white dress and yellow sunhat. Next to Alice in her dark trousers and shirt, Bella seemed like the fashion guru of the town. It oddly made me adore her even more.

"Ladies and gents, quiet down now! Quiet down!" came a loud voice. One of the officers was standing in the middle of the paddock, his hands cupped around his mouth to make his voice louder. The audience's chatter slowly dimmed until only whispers could be heard.

"Welcome everybody!" the man shouted. "It's good to see ya'll here, and ain't it a beautiful day?"

The crowd applauded and nodded, everyone looking up at the bright blue sky.

"Well why don't I stop jabbering and introduce our contestants?" he laughed before turning towards us. "First we got Mr. John Campbell from Jackson's Ranch!" The crowd applauded again as John waved. When silence fell once more, the officer moved on. "Next we got Mr. Dan Hanover, also from Jackson's Ranch!" More clapping as Dan nodded.

"Next to him we have this fine gentleman, Mr. Reginald Dewitt!" There was a smaller clap, everyone slightly confused as to why a man dressed so well was in this competition. Reginald scowled.

"And hiding next to him is little Walter Samuel," the officer said with a chuckle. Walter turned even more into himself, crowding his shoulders forward and lowering his head. He obviously didn't like the attention.

"And last, but certainly not least," the announcer went on. "We have Mr. Dust" – he chuckled slightly – "Stormer."

My gaze turned to Bella's to catch her wide-eyed look. Oh yes. She knew it was me all right. We stared at each other for a moment and then she started to shake her head, mouthing the words "no, no, no!" I just shrugged and looked away. She may be frightened for me now but when I won this whole thing…ha!

"Now that we've all been introduced," the officer went on with a gallant bow that made the crowd laugh. "Let the games begin!"

And begin they sure did. The first competition of the three was a race. Now I had faith in my new stallion but looking at Reginald's mount had me a little nervous. It had obviously been bred for racing and competing. But as I lined up with the others, I knew that I wasn't the only one who was worried. Walter was literally shaking on top of his pony. Poor kid.

The announcer called for us to be ready as he raised his gun in the air. I gripped my reins tightly and leaned forward in my saddle. I was going to win. I just had to remind myself of that.

The bang of the gun set us off. I could hear the crowd cheering and the thundering of our hooves but all I saw was blurred colours. I could barely keep track of where the corners of the pen were let alone where the other competitors were. I could see the black and white of Reginald ahead of me, and I could feel one of the farmhands racing beside me. I didn't know where the other two were. Perhaps their horses had fallen or they gave up? I didn't know and at that moment I didn't care. I could see the finish point ahead.

There was no way that I could beat Reginald but the farmhand I might be able to sneak in front of.

"Come on," I hissed under my breath, tapping the stallion's belly with my heel. He snorted and his strides grew longer, over taking the farmhand's mare and winning second place by a nose hair.

The crowd was cheering loudly when I finally slowed the horse to a trot. I was surprisingly out of breath as I patted the animal's neck. That had been quite a race.

Of course Reginald had won. He looked quite worn out, having lost his hat somewhere along the way, but was very proud when the announcer called him the winner. I was happy enough to receive second place. Just as long as I was still in the competition.

Third place was John Campbell on the chestnut mare and fourth was, surprisingly, little Walter. Apparently the gun shot at the beginning had frightened Dan Hanover's horse. He had been bucked off, breaking his arm after landing on it the wrong way. A few men had taken him away to pop his arm back into it's socket at his shoulder. I felt bad for the poor guy. He wouldn't be able to work for a while. Hell, he might be too frightened of horses to go near one again.

After a short resting period we were given our next task. Calf roping. Shoot! This was my worst one! I was no cattleman. I worked better with horses and roping a calf would be difficult. But then again, it might be terrible for Reginald. Not to mention Walter.

This time the kid was the first to go. He sat on his tiny, tired pony, waiting for the calf to be released. When it was, he kicked the little horse into a run and swung the rope around his head. The calf ran like hell, around and around in circles, trying in vain to evade the rope. Walter wasn't that bad roping the animal but he was yanked off his horse when he forgot to tie the rope to his horse's saddle horn. The crowd gasped as he was dragged by the cow around the pen before he finally managed to get to his feet and pull it to a stop. The pony came running over when he called to it and he finally tied the rope to the saddle horn before tying the calf's legs together. Overall it wasn't a good performance and he looked like he knew it.

Next was the farmhand and he did an all right job with his calf. He had done it before that was obvious.

Then it was my turn. My hands were shaking as I gripped the rope and my teeth bit into the smaller rope I held in my mouth. It would be what I used to tie the calf's legs together. I was nervous and I couldn't get myself to be calm.

Finally I nodded to the officer holding the smaller pen where the animal was kept closed. He pushed the gate open and the calf came galloping out.

"HAH!" I shouted and my stallion went after the cow.

Swinging the rope around my head, I tossed it forward and watched as it went around the calf's neck. It jerked to a stop, causing my horse to trip slightly. I leaped off and ran like hell for the cow that was frantically trying to rid itself of the rope. Grabbing it around the belly, I forced it to the ground and tied it's hooves together in one quick motion. Damn. I could feel the thing's heart beating a mile a minute and I could see it's wide glassy eyes staring up at me as it moaned pitifully. Watching it suffer like that didn't make me feel like a strong man. It actually made me a bit sick.

The crowd, however, was very impressed. I was moved into second place again, behind the farmhand with Walter being in last place.

Finally it was Reginald's turn. And boy was he awful! He missed the calf the first time and when he finally did catch it, he spent a lot of time wrestling with it. The crowd was laughing hysterically by the time he was done. Needless to say, he was taken out of the competition for being in last place. His pale face was bright red as he stormed out of the paddock, jeers following him from the crowd.

Finally it was the last competition. Gun handling. My best one! I was excited to start but John the farmhand was picked to go first. The announcer gave him a pistol with four bullets in it. He had to shoot down four targets from about 40 yards away. It was quite easy for me but a little difficult for this farmhand. He wasn't familiar with guns just like I wasn't familiar with ropes. In the end he shot down two of the four, which was all right. The crowd applauded for his effort.

I was surprised and let down to hear that Walter was going next. I wanted my turn! I wanted to win this thing! I could already see Bella's face. She'd be so proud of me. So enamored…

The sound of muttering made me look down. Walter was sitting on his pony beside my horse, muttering to himself. He was sweating bullets and looked terrified as the officers set up the targets again. For one moment he looked up at me and I suddenly saw Harry's innocent face. Harry who always looked up to me. Harry who always needed my help. As this boy stared up at me, I felt the need to protect him. To teach him right from wrong just like I had with my partner. That was how I decided that I would help him win this contest.

"Keep both eyes open," I advised without looking at him.

"Huh?" he asked.

"When you're shooting," I said. "Both eyes open. Keep 'em on the target."

He was silent for a moment. "Don't…don't give me faulty advice," he stuttered. "I know how to…to shoot a gun!" And he jumped off his pony to take the pistol from the announcer.

I watched him raise the gun, leaning my forearms on my saddle horn to see better. I saw him close one eye as he shot. Missed by a long shot. The crowd gasped, entranced as Walter raised the gun again.

He hesitated this time and I was happy to see him keep both eyes open when he finally shot the target. It fell and the crowd cheered.

Walter looked amazed as he turned to look at me. I winked and nodded at him. He could get the rest of them. I had faith in him.

And he did get the rest of them. He shot down the last three, sliding into first place. The crowd was loving it. The kid who came from last to first was a great story to them all.

Then it was my turn.

I stepped up to the announcer and took the pistol from him. He nodded to me and then stepped back. The audience was silent as I raised my gun.

Both…eyes…open…

BANG!

The target fell easily when I hit it dead centre. The crowd cheered as I raised the pistol again.

BANG!

Another one down. Two more and I would win it all. The fifty dollars and the glory. Everything would be mine…

I hesitated for a moment, Walter's amazed face coming to mind. Suddenly I couldn't shoot it down. I would win…and he would lose. I wondered what he needed the money for. To help out his Pa and his Ma? Maybe he had siblings that needed looking after. Maybe he had lost his father and now he was the man of the house. Maybe he needed to provide for his family…

I raised my gun…and purposely missed the third and fourth targets. The crowd gasped before they began to cheer for Walter. I turned to see the boy being congratulated by the people in the audience. His face was white with shock and his eyes were wide. I thought I could actually see tears in his eyes. He mouthed a thank you to me and I nodded. I'd helped someone…the one thing that I wanted to do with my life. The one thing I could have done if my life hadn't been messed up.

I turned to see Bella sitting on the bench, watching me with a little smile on her face. I grinned back and started forward to talk to her.

Suddenly there was a shout. "Arrest him!"

Turning back around I could see what I feared. What Carty had warned me about. I was surrounded by officers. I had fallen into a trap.

"That's Cullen!" James bellowed, running out towards where I was standing. "Arrest him, damn it!"

The men around me advanced quickly as the crowd watched on with gasps and cries.

Think, think, think! What to do?

Lifting my fingers to my mouth, I whistled loudly. My stallion tore away from the man that had been holding his reins and raced towards me. When he finally came close enough I pulled myself into the saddle and kicked him into a gallop. Guns shots rang out as I thundered past the officers, towards the open gate.

"Close it!" James screamed. "Close the gate!"

Curse words flew from my mouth as the man pushed and locked the only gate in the paddock. I was trapped! I pulled back on the reins, trying to get the animal to stop but the horse was on a mission. The gate came closer and closer, and just before we were about to hit it, the stallion leaped right over the fence. I held on tightly to the reins but almost lost my balance when his hooves hit the ground again. I managed to scrambled back into a sitting position as we thundered out of town and back into the wilderness.

Dear God, I was in trouble…


NOTES

Heyo! Another chapter finished! I'd say there is about two or three chapters left. And then…there will be another Readers Choice Vote! I've got about three story ideas for you guys to vote on for which one I'll be writing next. I like them all so whichever one you guys chose will be good for me. Some of the ideas include military lovin', Outback lovin' or maybe some vampire lovin'? It'll be your choice!

And if you guys have been with me for a while you might remember that little short story contest I entered last year. I didn't win it but I've entered another story in this year's contest. Fingers crossed, ladies!

FACTS

The Phoenix Stakes was a Thoroughbred horse race that began in 1831 and took place in Kentucky almost 45 years before the Kentucky Derby began (1875)! And I do not enjoy watching cattle roping but I had to watch a few videos to understand how it worked. Hurting an animal for sport is not something I support!

CHAPTER NAME MEANING

Keep your powder dry = the frontiersman's equivalent of "Be prepared," "Stay on your toes," or "Expect the unexpected," this saying has its origin in the days of muzzleloading firearms. Having your supply of gunpowder get wet was one of the worst things that could befall you. It meant that you no longer had a means of defending yourself, putting meat on the table, or earning your livelihood.