RED
Red dust.
And it plumed from under a bay horse. It's hair, jet black as a crow's wings and a wild look in its eye. The horse shot over the desert like a bat out of hell itself.
His rider's Hair was tied into a long red braid and it whipped the woman back . By the graces of god her hat stood the blast of desert air that stung her face. Her Holstein chaps , her yellow men's shirt were all covered in red dirt. Her mouth a row of white gritted teeth as her eyes squinted forward determined to go even faster. People craned their necks and moved closer to windows to see the hell the redhead had risen as she thundered past shops on the town's main street.
Streets that had been quiet. It was a quiet town and the days and nights in this dusty part of the world seemed to bleed into one another. When riders came to town they did so slowly , softly and steadily to the beat of a walking horse's hooves.
The thunder that roared through town and ripped through the silence of weeks of heat and sand.
Like a dust devil the rider and horse came to town right to the sheriff's office.
"Sherif ! -"
A dry voice called out from the tiny woman's frame as she jumped seamlessly off the back of the frothing animal. Right from the leap she darted to the door wasting no time. She had a wild look in her eyes ; panic, loss , fear. She shouldered the door of the office open and it swung and clattered against the wall that held its hinges. The sheriff was a dark man with a full black mustache and eyebrows and no other hair to speak of. He stood up , upsetting his chair , hand twitched to the revolver at his hip but seeing the women's red braid he stopped a half second. No she was not there to put a lead bullet in him.
She wore no revolvers at her hips. Confused, he watched the woman waiting to see why she would come to his office, and bang down his door...His answer came immediately.
"Some's attacked my Pa! Come quickly our homestead is on fire!"
"Shit " The sheriff spat and grabbed his hat off the desk almost crushing it in his hand. He was shaking off a chill of fear, no there was no time for that. But his own father always said a wise man always had a bit of fear in him, it kept a man sharp.
The more curious towns folk shuffled closer to the jailhouse , to the crashing sound of a wooden door being forced open. A long thin line of black smoke was noticed on the background of deep blue sky far off in the horizon. Black smoke from a burning homestead.
sheriff
"Get the wagon !" Two bright hazel eyes shot up from a knot the young man was tying on a saddle.
"Woodrow!" The man's father started up the drive towards the stable where his son was working. The younger man wore bluegenes and a buckle on his belt. The older of the two wore a blue dress shirt and a dusty set of work pants. The man was tall and filled out , when he walked he did so with a limp.
Woody looked up and a trail of smoke to the north caught his eye. The young man suddenly felt sick and he just noticed the dryness of his lips as his mind detached from reality wondering who's farmhouse it was burning in front of him.
"Get the horses !"
"Yes Pa!" Woody snapped to and he grabbed the reins of the horse that was in front of him.
Working fast the young man worked with hands shaking from the sudden rush of adrenaline.
His father made it up to the carriage beside him two shotguns in his hands. He was counting the shells in his pockets.
"Who is it?" Woody licked his lips and he tried to calm his shallow breathing. Trouble this is trouble...
" It could be Fairadays, the Mckenzies ." Woodrow's dad placed the two shotguns in the footwell of the wagon . With a groan the older man grabbed the black dusty wagon in his hands and pulled himself up. Hands that had seen a life full of hard labor on a cattle farm. His eyes also hazel darted up the pillar of black smoke in the distance.
"Bandits?" Woody yelled over a horse at his father who now cradled a gun in his arm.
"Maybe" his father nodded but not looking away from the sky to the north.
"Damn it!"
"Its almost winter, it could be bandits…" The old cattle man picked a piece of skin from his lip with his tooth and spat at the red sands to his side.
" What about the Pomeroy's" Woody clicked the last strap on the other horse they owned to the harness and took up the reins taking his seat next to his father. Woody regretted even asking the question,suddenly felt very ill, and all his dad could offer was a worried shrug.
"We will see when we get there."
"YAH!" Woody yelled at the horses and they started with a jolt. The wagon gave a shrill yell of metal and creaking wood and it lept to motion. Woody's father nearly bounced off his seat by the force of the sudden speed.
"YAH, YAH!" The cowboy in the Holstein vest snapped. They Made a bead for the black smoke reaching for the heavens , riding in silence. To the benefit of father and son . Woody tried to keep his heart from beating out of his chest and his father almost bending the handlebars of the wagon out of worry he would bounce out.
The wagon wheels were almost jumping off the cart but the two men still carried on.
They made it up the drive of the farmstead of the McKenzie's. By that time other farmers had gathered and tried putting out the inferno with dirt and buckets of water.
The community had rallied and there were at least five men running around with buckets of water or shoveling sand. Woody pulled his handkerchief up over his nose to block some of the toxic fumes
The stink of fabrics and treated wood , tar from the roof on fire filled the air .
The family home, the cabin that once stood as a family home was now a pillar of dark smoke.
"What's going on here?" Matthew Pride roared from beside his son Woody, still holding onto the reins . He held the gun in his large meaty hands.
"Bandits! The horses are gone and I think the place has been robbed!"
"Where's the Mckenzies ?!" Matthew pulled up his own handkerchief giving a small cough.
"I dont know !"
"Shit." Woody's dad muttered and nodded with his head to his son to take the waggon somewhere out of the smoke so they could help. The large man sat back down and crossed his arms around his gun.
"Yah!" his son motioned the horses to get going again and the son and father dismounted , running to help their neighbours
"He's here!" A man who had jumped into the still smoldering cabin drenched in a heavy wet blanket came out dragging a body and a few farmers near him stopped their work to help.
They quickly picked the man up and took him a few meters away from the burning home. He was not terribly burned and his burns were only on his back.
"I found him face down." The man who had been under the blanket coughed.
They turned him around one man lifted his head up and listened to his chest, shaking his head 'No'.
"A'nt no beat i can hear of!"
"Look!" The man beside him pointed to the blood on the farmer's hands who was holding mr. Mackenze. The man reeled back in shock at the blood on his hands. "HE's bleedin!"
They looked him over to find an entrance wound in his back and an exit hole in his chest.
"Shit he's been shot in the back.." Matthew Pride took off his hat.
"Cold blood… wasn't even armed." Woody took off his hat too. There had been a murder.
The group gathered around the late Mr. Mackenzie did not hear the thunder of hooves over the rocky road approach. There, trailing behind her a large trail of dust going far too fast on her bay horse was the red headed daughter of the Mackenzie family.
They did not notice until a voice came calling behind them.
"PA! PA!" A small sweet voice, raspy from the dry air came closer to the group.
Woody felt sick he did not need to know who was coming up the road now, he could guess.
"PA! Did you find him?"
The shell of the home was all that was really left and though smoke still wafted up from the blackened home the fire was nearly out.
The sheriff was trailing a long way behind her and by the time she dismounted there were a few men and even a couple of women there to meet her by the road. But none of them wanted to be the first to talk. Woody walked up to her.
"Jessie is it ? Thank the heavens you're alive. Was it just you and your' pa here?"
In Front of Woody stood a small woman with a slim frame . She had freckles and emerald eyes , ones that could look right through him.
"Where's pa…" She was panting and shaking, her hands wrung the brim of her cowboy hat. Woody put out his hands as if to steady a rearing stallion at risk of getting out of control.
"WE think bandits came." A man near Woody nodded and chimed in , he had soot marks on his face.
"They looted the place." A few men nodded solemnly. One took off his hat and held it in both hands. Woody looked over to the crowd , he was a tall man and somehow people looked to him for leadership. Maybe it was his height or his honesty , but these times were the worst to be elected to do the hard work. The work that required him to be gentle.
"Jessie .." He put his hands down and came closer to the red head. "We found him yah.."
Tears started flowing down her pale skin.
"Tell me where he is ." Woody licked his dry lips cracking in the desert sun, his eye looked over to his father who took off his own hat. Men looked away from the small redhead , some shifted their weight from one foot to the next or looked over at one another. Woody also took off his own hat, and moved to the side.
There behind him a few yards was a man under a native woven blanket. A few men stood around the man on the ground laying perfectly still with their own hats off.
"No.." She whispered. Jessie could tell that was her dad under that blanket, he was still wearing his boots still.
Woody held her hand lightly at first and she threw her hand up to break his half hearted grip on her. But he reached out again.
"PA!No let go of me!"
But he could not do that, it would cause a scene if she went over there now in hysteria. They had pulled her father out of the fire all that was salvageable was the chain he had on. His cloths were half burned or blackened.
"Miss Jessie! Wait. Is this his?" She was trying to pull his hand from off of her thin arm and her eyes caught a bit of silver on a cheap chain in Woody's hand.
And she screamed
Jessie fell to the ground unable to get up.
"Ok that's enough , Woody put her in the wagon. She can't stay here." Matthew Pride shook his head and looked over to the sheriff. "Bout- time.."
The sheriff came forward.
"We will set out a reward for the bandits or anyone who can give us some information on where they went."
"Yah you better…"
"And just what is that suppose to mean Mr. Pride?"
"It means this young lady could have lost her life today, she done well near lost her whole family." Mr pride slunk closer to the Sheriff as to keep his voice out of earshot of Jessie who was being helped up into his family horse cart. "An you seem to be the last man here-"
The bald sheriff quickly got red in the face.
"And just what was i sup-pose to do ?" Woody's dad was almost nose to nose with him.
"Kill or catch them bandits , or ill see to it myself there will be a new lawman in town." and with a nod he turned from the sheriff and threw his hat back on his head before getting in the wagon beside his son.
"Take us home son." Woody nodded and they left the Mackenzie homestead , Jessie loaded in the back leaned up against a bail of hay.
She watched curled up in a blanket Woody had provided for her clutching the cheap necklace with the bit of silver at the end.
She watched as the image of her father under the blanket got smaller and smaller . she felt like crying but no tears came. She could not tell if this day was real. She just stayed quiet the entire trip back to the Pride family's farm.