To Voldemort: You do realize I get emails that start with "You have recieved a review from Voldemort" Don't you? You know, if my name was Lucius Malfoy, I'd be sincerely worried. Just kidding, I love your support.
A very Merry belated Christmas to all my dear readers, reviewers and followers! We shall see eachother again in the next year! May this story bring you all the joy in 2017 as I hope it did in 2016.
With love,
Your ever humble and grateful writer,
AshtonCat
Chapter: 23
She didn't want to wake up. In sleep, she didn't feel the reality around her, and wasn't reminded of her current situation. Travelling with a gang of wanted criminals, while being hunted down by both Rangers and railroad agents, of which neither had good intentions. When she was a little girl, her grandfather told her stories about a knight saving a princess from a giant dragon, sleeping on a pile of jewels and gold. He had described the sleeping dragon as a heavily breathing, slumbering monstrosity, its long horned tail covered in scales, and wrapped around its treasure. Tonight she dreamed of it again. How often had she tried to picture that dragon, the way it smelled, the sounds it made as it slept. She could hear it now again, inhaling softly, its chest moving, and exhaling again, breathing out smoke and giving out a low growl, as if it snored. As she slowly started waking up, her mind seemed to hang on to her dream, the sounds of the dragon remained. She could have sworn she could feel it breathe, its weight against her back. Dragons did not exist, she reminded herself sternly. And it wasn't a dragon that had wrapped itself around her, had its chest against her back, and made the sounds of her childhood stories. It was Butch, still deep asleep, completely unaware of her opened eyes.
They had clearly moved during the night, rolled onto their sides, his mangled face buried in her long hair, making it dance every time he exhaled, like the breezing beast in her grandfather's bedtime stories. And like the dragon with its treasure, the outlaw had wrapped himself around her slim frame, one leg around hers, she could feel the heavy, damp material of his trousers dig into her skin. His arm had snaked its way around her thin torso, with his hand disappearing under her side that was pressed against the matrass. In this position, she was pretty sure she had the safest sleeping spot west of the Missouri river. But unlike the dragon of her grandfather's story, Butch wasn't a coldblooded lizard, and the heat of his body radiated pleasantly, almost lulling her back to sleep. With his injured face so close to her head, she didn't dare move, scared she would hurt him, and startle him from his sleep.
Everything was still around them, although morning had arrived some time ago. The only sound she detected were the desert breeds of birds announcing the time of day, while sitting on the high walls of the fort, warming up in the young rays of the new-born sun. As she listened to their chirping, other sounds submerged from the silence. Slowly, the fort awakened. First the playing of children, having finished their breakfasts, and now allowed to enjoy the deep puddles that had formed in the courtyard. Dogs, ready to join the party of frivolity that was taking place, barked in excitement, chasing chickens that had been awakened by their rooster, who in his turn, chased off the dogs threatening his harem. The noise was enough to make the dragon behind her stir slightly.
"Damn dogs.." He mumbled between her shoulder blades.
She smiled, and suppressed a chuckle. "We need to get up." She said, trying to sound serious, and sure of her decision. "I thought you wanted to leave at first light?"
"Ah guess ah missed mah chance." He grumbled, she could hear him yawn, and felt him stretch, before nuzzling back into the pillow they were sharing. "Ah aint all there, ah think. Got mah brains shaken up pretty good." He continued, and sighed heavily. "Mah head hurts.."
She frowned in worry and sympathy, and reached up to pat his arm that was wrapped around her. "Then we'll rest for a little while longer. Until it subsides a bit." She suggested kindly. He didn't answer. "You probably drank too much as well." she teased. Now he chuckled softly into her hair.
"Probably.." he mumbled.
She was silent for a moment, absentmindedly stroking his arm with her fingertips, her need to touch him when he was suffering resurfacing, although she hardly realized it. "Thank you for staying with me last night." She whispered softly, mindful of his throbbing head.
"Now ye can tell yer future husband ye slept with Butch Cavendish." He joked. Mocking offense, she hit his arm, causing him to jump slightly, and chuckle teasingly.
"I thought you were sick and in need of rest." She scolded.
"Ah've never been sick enough te lose mah sense of humour." He explained. "Don't be cross with me, Sharky.. come on now." He huddled closer to her back, enjoying her softness, her intoxicating scent. "Ye just make me feel better, that's all." He admitted.
She blushed at his small confession, and cleared her throat nervously. Whatever moment they were sharing right now, entangled like lovers, she wasn't sure she was to believe all of it. But he seemed blatantly unaware of the internal chaos he caused her, for moments later, his breathing evened out, his body relaxed against her, indicating he had fallen asleep once more. She resumed the gentle caressing of his arm. He had made her feel safe last night, allowing her to lay in his arms like a small child, she was pretty sure that privilege wasn't bestowed on many others. So she would do the same for him now, and not move away until he felt better.
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Ten miles from the gate to the secluded fort, five horsemen stood tall in a line blinking against the sunlight. Four of them wore bowler hats, one of them a shabby, worn Stetson. Brushing off the desert dust from his fine black coat, the smallest of the men, although atop the largest horse, made a small noise that was supposed to voice his mild surprise.
"Well, golly gee.." Elton sneered mockingly. "The place actually exists."
Evans turned to him slowly, his thick eyebrows almost covering his deep set, blood shed eyes. "What te hell were ye thinkin'" He growled. "Course it exists. Does a hell of a lot more than just existing too."
"You know, if I didn't know how much you were getting paid for getting us here, I'd think you still admire the whole thing, Evans." The short man shot back at him. Evans said nothing in return, and rolled his shoulders angrily.
"Is Cavendish in there?" One of the gruff looking hired guns said, speaking to Elton's back. "Ah say we go in there, throw him off a wall, and get the hell out of this nightmare."
Taking his time, Elton rummaged through his fancy coat pockets, pulling out a pair of fine looking white, kid gloves. "Not so fast, Wickens." He spoke calmly, pulling on the gloves with great care, like he was readying himself for a formal dinner party. "If you want to catch a sleeping chicken, you don't wake it up first." He fidgeted around with the fingers on his gloves until they were positioned right. "Besides.." He continued, buttoning the gloves at the wrist. "Mister Cavendish is worth more to us alive. And people tend to die when you throw them off a wall, Wickens." He turned to give the hired gun a bored smile. "You knew that, didn't you Wickens?"
Wickens didn't respond, and just gazed back at his boss impassively, probably wishing the man a most painful death.
"I'm going to assume you knew that." Elton continued, calm as ever, and turned his view back to the fort. "But in case you forget about it once we're in there, I think it would be best if you stay here." He explained, taking out his golden pocket watch to look at the time. "If we're not back within one hour from now, I want you to return to Colby, and give the location of this place to Mister Cole. In other words, you are our safety net, Wickens." He tossed the golden watch at the hired gun, who barely caught it mid-air. "Understood?"
Looking quite annoyed with his new task, Wickens grumbled under his breath, stuffing the watch away, and reached into his saddle bag to take out his pipe. He was going to be here for a while anyway.
"Jolly good." Elton said, urging his horse forward. "Onwards, gentlemen." In company of his other two men, and Evans, they approached the fort in a slow trot.
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She had fallen into a light slumber soon after him, his gentle breathing presence emptying her mind of every worry and sorrow hovering above her head like the sword of Damocles. The joyous sounds of the awakening fort, now familiar to her ears, continued in the background. She smiled when she recognized Frank's voice in the courtyard, now like hearing a friend arriving at her front door. But he appeared to be panicking over something, informing whoever was willing to listen, about something she couldn't decipher.
"Frank sounds worried.." she said. For a moment it didn't seem her words had reached the dragon, but then he stirred and let out a slow, tired sigh. "It's too early for Frank.." He mumbled.
Smiling to herself, she gently lifted her head from the pillow, using both ears to listen to the young outlaw's panicking words. Other voices had joined his, and she could hear men run across the courtyard, stepping into puddles in their hurry. "Something is going on." She stated. "Maybe I should go have a look."
He wordlessly removed his arm from around her waist, and untangled his leg from hers, allowing her to move away. She sat up slowly, her back stiff from the old matrass. But after having slept on a saddle blanket for days, it felt like sleeping at the Hilton. She turned to look at the still weary gangleader, who gave her a lopsided smile, peering up at her with tired eyes.
"Are you feeling any better?" she asked softly. He closed his eyes again, his smile not leaving as he shook his head a little. "Well, just rest here then. I'm going to see what all the fuss is about." She told him, sliding off the bed. A shiver ran through her spine the moment her bare feet touched the cold, wooden floor. She rubbed her arms as she made her way over to the window, to peer outside into the courtyard. There was a group of Rosa's guards, armed to the teeth, conversing with eachother in a language she did not understand. She turned to the doorway when she heard footsteps run up the staircase.
A wild eyed Rosa pulled away the faded curtain and stepped into the room hastily. "You need to go!" she announced, bending down to pick up Butch's boots, throwing them at the unmoving outlaw in the bed, who didn't seem fazed at her rude intrusion. "Ahora, Cavendish! Get up!" she called out exasperatedly, clapping her hands close to his ears, and pulling away the blanket that covered him. "Andale!"
He growled, tossing a pillow at her angrily. "Git out! The hell is wrong with you?!"
She dodged the pillow, getting more furious by the minute. "They're coming, you fool! They're visible from the wall! Your horsemen! You need to go!" she looked at Eleanor, who had a look of pure fright on her face. "You both need to go!"
"What horsemen?" Eleanor asked, her eyes switching between them.
With impressive speed, Butch jumped out of bed, looking around for the rest of his clothing while holding his snake leather boots against his chest. Tripping over an upturned chair, he roughly pushed Rosa out of his way as he collected his waistcoat and jacket from the floor. If the Spanish woman was offended, she didn't show it, her gaze resting on the young girl instead.
"All five of them!?" Butch called, slipping into his torn coat on his way down the staircase, almost tripping over his own feet.
"Four.." Rosa corrected him, still gazing at the girl by the window, rubbing her arms nervously. She clicked her tongue, approaching her in a gentle manner. "He did not tell you, did he?" she asked. "Last night, when he returned, he told Ray he spotted five horsemen on the trail here."
Eleanor felt her stomach turn in fear, and gazed at the fort's matron like a deer in headlights. "But.. but he told me they cannot find this place. Law men don't know this place, do they? He told me so himself!" Rosa placed her slender hands on the panicking girl's shoulders, silencing her gently with a stern look.
"Tranquilo." She instructed. "You're right, no law men knows the exact location of this place, but that bastard Evans has lead them here." From the open window, Butch could be heard barking orders at the rest of his gang. Horses were taken from their stables and saddled in a hurry. Guns were readied by the bandits manning the high walls. "Look at me." Rosa instructed the girl sternly, drawing the young lady's attention away from the window. "You're going to be alright." She told the frightened girl. "I promise you." Eleanor nodded, wide eyed and partly hyperventilating. Rosa's hands left her shoulders. "Get dressed and get your horse ready." She told the girl, and turned on her heels.
Down in the courtyard, the horses belonging to Butch's gang were saddled and ready, awaiting their riders who were still readying their guns, preparing for a fight. Rosa's guards ran across the balconies, taking their positions with their rifles at the ready. The whole fort seemed transformed. What was usually a place of relaxation and entertainment, now seemed to be the military facility it was originally build to represent. The women on the balconies however didn't seem impressed, and were still hanging over the railings, curious about all the commotion.
With a handful of her skirt, Eleanor made her way down the creaking staircase. Still tying her hair up, she ran into the stables, bumping into Frank who had saddled her horse for her and was on his way out to get her.
"Morning, miss Hartley!" he called out happily, while she regained her balance from their collision. Her little grey mare had colourful paint marks on her muzzle, and eagle feathers had been braided into her black manes. Observing the decorated animal, Eleanor took the reins from the young outlaw with a puzzled expression. "Ah thinks the Injun lady did this." Frank continued, following her gaze. "Is gonna be all gone when it starts raining."
The old horse received some looks of ridicule once it was being lead out of the stable. Like she and the relic of an animal she rode wasn't amusing enough already, she now received some snickering from the criminals on the balconies as well. Trying to ignore it as best as she could, Eleanor lead her horse to the rest of the group, awaiting instructions from a restless looking Butch.
Rosa joined them soon after, her long hair covered in a bright coloured shawl with tassels. In her native tongue, she called out her orders to the men on the balconies, before coming to a halt next to Butch. "Who are these people?" she asked him, her hands in her sides. He didn't respond, his mind elsewhere. "They aren't with the law, are they?" she pressed on, but still she received no answer. "Respondeme, Cavendish!" she slapped his shoulder impatiently. "Who did you bring to my gates, ha?! I deserve to know!"
"Mercenaries." Butch grumbled. "Hired by the railroad to get rid of that girl, and get my bounty while they're at it. Ahm pretty sure that was the agreement. Be damned if they do it for the sake of progress." He chuckled joylessly, shaking his head. "Nah, they're here for her. Ah half expected them Rangers to be ridin' with em, but they must have been send on a different trail. Guess they don't want no audience." He shifted his weight in uneasiness, feeling Rosa's sharp hazel eyes burn into the side of his head. "Evans knew exactly where I'd hole up with that girl. I wonder what kind of money they promised him for this."
Rosa had obviously heard enough, for she turned away from the outlaw sharply, pacing around in slight panic while muttering her frustrations in Spanish. The rest of the gang mounted slowly, knowing they were close to the moment of departure, yet none of them seemed to know what the exact plan was going to be. With Frank's patient assistance, Eleanor climbed into the smooth saddle of her decorated mare, shifting slightly in the leather to get comfortable. With his back to them, Butch still seemed to be contemplating the next move.
"Ye think ye can delay them long enough fer us to get te Eagle Pass?" He asked Rosa, peering over his shoulder at the fuming woman. She halted, giving him a wild look, like a cornered animal.
"Eagle Pass?!" she barked. "You want to drag that chica through the mountains?!" she barked, making a wild hand movement toward the girl in question.
He made a face. "What mountains?! Ye people here south of the damn border call every Goddamn hill a mountain!" Yet he didn't seem sure of it either, and looked around, like he expected the right answer to be written on one of the walls of the fort. Ray decided to contribute to the conversation.
"They got te us this far, they'll follow us up the pass too." The old cowboy grumbled, not exactly motivating the rest. "We can split up." He suggested. Now he seemed to have caught Butch's attention, as the latter turned to him slowly, his heels digging into the sand and gravel. He tilted his head at the oldest member of his gang, urging him to voice the rest of his idea.
"Ah'll take Skinny and Jesus with me. Barret goes with Frank, and you take that gurl fer yer account. We'll take em out one by one on the trail. Keep the horses. Meet up at Pine's Creek and continue from there." Ray continued.
Still staring at him, Butch seemed to consider it. "Three days ride from here." He concluded, travelling the route inside his mind, calculating the estimated time of arrival. "Two more ways te get there.." He continued, narrowing his eyes in concentration. "Ye take the East trail ye get all the snow and trees, not easy to follow."
Ray nodded. "Yer best choice right there. But that Elton aint no fool though." He argued. "He wants that girl, he'll go after her."
Butch turned to look at Eleanor atop her horse, his eyes switching from her to Frank, still standing next to her with his hand on her horse's headpiece. "Yea.." the leader mumbled, smiling lightly. "Unless he takes er fer someone else." He decided. "Frank! Take off yer clothes."
Looking quite shocked, Frank stared at his leader, his face growing pale. "Right.. Right now?" He asked, looking at the giggling girls on the balconies. "In front of all these gals?"
"Ye aint got nuthin' they haven't seen before, boy!" Butch growled impatiently, walking up to the wide eyed young outlaw, who almost took a step back as his leader approached in a threatening manner. "Ah have te ask twice?!" Butch barked, causing Frank to quickly reach for his boots, taking them off clumsily.
"Ye too, Sharky." Butch continued, giving Eleanor a sly look. "ye and Frank. Switch clothes. Now." The gang leader received much of the same look from the girl as he had received from the youngest member of his gang, but she knew better than to argue, and slid off her saddle slowly. Rosa clicked her tongue in annoyance and moved past a still smirking Butch to lend a hand to the scared girl.
"Dios mio, Cavendish!" She growled, wrapping her arm around Eleanor's shoulders. "If you want her to do it right in front of you, you better learn how to beg for it. Come Chiquita, I got you." She led the girl away, to the stables, where more privacy was provided. Frank followed closely, not daring to make eye contact with a slightly disappointed, and humiliated, Butch.
They both occupied a stable, with Rosa quickly helping the girl out of her stained day dress, and the chemise underneath. Shyly, Eleanor rubbed her bare shoulders, and watched how Rosa rolled her clothes into a ball and tossed them at a shirtless Frank, who caught one piece mid-air, and had to dug for the rest. He shared his stable with three small donkeys, and they seemed more than willing to help him undress and eat his clothes in the process too.
"I'm not sure I understand what the plan is." Eleanor peeped carefully, peering up at Rosa. "Would someone like Elton be that easily fooled by a change of wardrobe?"
Catching Frank's shirt and trousers with ease, Rosa handed her piece for piece, waiting for the girl to pull them on before answering. "I expect Cavendish to know what he's doing." She remarked coldly. "If not I'll feed his cojones to the dogs." She helped the girl button up the shirt with her skilled fingers. The sleeves covered her hands, since Frank was slightly taller than herself. Rosa rolled them up roughly and impatiently.
Now dressed, Eleanor turned to look at Frank, and couldn't help but giggle at how he looked in her old dress. "Do my shoes even fit you?" she asked. He looked up at her with a bright smile, and heaved up his leg to show her one perfectly fitting shoe.
"Ah had te give the laces a little more room but.. ah thinks it's alright." He remarked. One of the donkeys got hold on the hem of his skirt and pulled, causing Frank to almost fall over. Eleanor laughed. "Don't tear that!" He called out, pulling back, but the donkey didn't let go. "It aint mine, mister Donkey!" Even Rosa chuckled, and said something in Spanish that made herself laugh, but neither Eleanor or Frank understood.
After successfully swapping clothes, they made their way back into the courtyard, where Frank was greeted with cruel catcalling and whistling from the guards and girls on top of the balconies. But he didn't seem very upset with their teasing, and braved himself through his walk of shame with his chin held up proudly. Someone tossed him a faded looking bonnet and he wasted no time to put it on his head.
As Eleanor approached Butch, she noticed he held both his own and Frank's horse by their reins. Her own little mare flanked Barret's much bigger black stallion. She suddenly understood what was expected of her, and froze in fear, feeling Rosa press against her back, urging her to move.
"I cannot ride Frank's horse." She protested. Butch tilted his head at her, a tired look on his face. He wasn't in the mood for negotiations, and his eyes told her all about the limits she better not cross right now. As Frank caught up on his leader's latest idea, he quickly came to her side to offer his support.
"Bobby is goin' te take real good care of ye, miss Hartley." He smiled. "Ah knows he will. He likes ye."
Eleanor shook her head frantically. "I can't even ride that little mare properly!" she gazed at Butch, pleading for help, but he didn't move.
"Evans knows ah gave his horse te ye." The gang leader told her calmly. "Ye ride yer little Paluxy, it's gonna take one second fer him te figure out ye aint Frank."
Eleanor frowned. "I thought you assumed Evans to be a complete idiot." She shot back. "Would he really be smart enough to make that connection?"
"If he aint, then yer friend Elton is." Butch barked, throwing Bobby's reins to her. "Git on te damn horse, Sharky. No more talk." With that, all had been said, he turned toward Ray and Barret to discuss a few more things, and all she could do was rest in her fate.
"Ahm gonna take good care of Little Paluxy." Frank assured her gently. "Ah wont ride her too hard, and ah'll make sure she grazes and drinks enough. Ah promise ye." It wasn't exactly what she worried about. She knew Frank was good with horses, whatever horse it was.
A guard manning the walls, called down to Rosa in his native language, and for the ones that understood Spanish, it was the cue to climb into their saddles. Butch turned to Eleanor and the fort's matron, his swaying steps toward them revealed he wasn't too excited to share his plan with them. "Tahm te go, Sharky." He said to her, and looked at Rosa. "Why ye look ready te slap me, don't ye?"
Rosa huffed, and folded her arms across her chest. "It is against my own will to give up a woman once she took refuge here." She hissed at him. "And I'm not convinced going with you is the best option for her. In here, I know what can be expected, I know how to protect her. What is out there?" she made a hand movement toward the back gate. "Something hunts her, Cavendish. You know how to kill, but do you know how to save a life? I am not sure." She swallowed thickly, tightening her grip on the young girl.
Butch didn't respond, and shifted his weight in uneasiness as he looked down at Eleanor. "Say yer goodbyes." He instructed her. She was going to give Rosa a hand, but the woman insisted on a fierce hug, like she was convinced they would never see eachother again.
"God be with you, Eleanora." She whispered in the girl's ear. As she pulled back, both their cheeks were covered in tears, and Rosa wiped them away roughly.
"Thank you for everything." Eleanor spoke shyly, not really knowing what to say. Rosa smiled and took both of her hands in hers.
"Your life will be nothing like my life." The woman started, looking down at her olive skinned bare feet in the sand. "You will have a good life. And we're all going to do what we have to do." She looked up at Butch sharply. "For once." As she let go of the girl, Butch made a hand movement that told her to leave them alone, and Eleanor was more than happy to grand these two old friends their privacy.
"Ye never cried when ah left." Butch said smugly, out of hearing range from everyone else. Rosa regarded him coldly, still sniffling and wiping away tears.
"You don't deserve my tears." She shot back. "Or hers."
"Goddammit, Rosa. Why always the hostility when ah leave? Ye aint happy when ah come, ye aint happy when ah go." He complained. "Ah can't make ye happy, can ah?"
She scoffed. "Is that what you're trying to do?"
He looked away, around the fort, the toes of his boots digging into the still soggy dirt. "Ah guess not." He shrugged. "Ye'll be alright with them agents?"
"I don't need your worry!" she spat at him. Then calmed. "I'll be fine."
"Don't kill em." Butch warned. "As much as ye'd like te do that, the fact they're comin' with four and not five means one of them is waitin' out there." He continued, his expression darkening. "Don't kill em, Rosa. Ye kill em he's goin' te ride back and get the troops, and this whole place will be cleaned out."
She rolled her eyes, straightening her back, obviously not happy with his instructions. "You behave like this is the first time I have to face people like that." She made a nod toward the main gate. "Rail tycoons. I know what they're like."
"That Elton won't stop at nuthin' te get to that girl." Butch lowered his voice even more. At that moment, a man on the wall called out the horsemen were getting close. Rosa gazed at Butch impassively. "Then I suggest you get her out of here." She said. He nodded in agreement, and took a small step in her direction, perhaps to embrace her, neither of them were sure, but she stepped back. "It was never like this." She told him. "Why start now?"
Without another word, Butch turned away from her, his expression unreadable. Rosa gave the order to open the back gate of the fort, facing East, where an unknown trail would lead them back to the border.
Eleanor and Frank had been quiet witnesses to the small interaction between Butch and Rosa, but were now forced to say goodbye to eachother, as Frank was supposed to go with Barret, and she was expected to follow Butch himself. The young outlaw seemed unsure of what to say, petting the nose of his stallion, of whom he was to say goodbye to as well.
"Guess I'll see you in three days.." Eleanor started, knowing she was going to feel lost without him by her side to keep her spirits up. He nodded a little. "Barret never aint no fun te travel with." He complained. "He don't say much. Just sits there." As Barret was standing right next to him, atop his black horse, she could see him roll his eyes.
She smiled. "I think he heard you." She giggled. "Maybe he'll be better this time."
"Maybe.." Frank shrugged, not convinced. At that point she couldn't help herself, and flung herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. She knew she startled him, but he recovered from his shock soon enough, and returned her hug just as fiercely.
"I'm going to miss you!" she told him. "Please be careful."
"Ah'll be careful." Frank nodded. "Might rip yer dress though."
She chuckled through her tears. "Don't worry about it." she turned to Barret with a pleading look. "You'll be careful too, won't you? And look after him?" For a moment it didn't seem the army surgeon would give any reply, but then he sighed impatiently.
"He'll be fine." He grumbled. "It's not exactly his first time running from the law."
It was all the reassurance she was going to get from the gruff Frenchman, and she decided to no longer pester him. It was time to mount up, and the young stallion she was to ride for the next three days, was obviously aware something was going to happen. He was restless, more than usual, and shifted his weight from one long leg to the other. He was significantly taller than her little grey mare, who was undoubtedly selected for her because of her comfortable size, and getting her foot in the stirrup was a challenge all by itself. It was Butch himself who helped her into the saddle, holding on to Bobby's headpiece and muttering words to the restless animal no one heard. Once she was seated, and the stirrups were adjusted to her height, Butch let go of the horse.
"Keep yer heels down and yer eyes on the road." He instructed her. The young animal beneath her felt like sitting on a big ball of muscles, considerably different from the passive mare she had been riding. Where Paluxy had her head down most of the time, Bobby looked around a lot, his ears going back and forth in unbridled attention. Eleanor watched the gang leader mount his own chestnut mare, effortlessly and swiftly like he was born in the saddle of this very horse, once mounted, they became one.
"Bandanas on, boys!" He instructed his gang. Scarfs and cloths were tied in front of mouths, covering half the faces of the gang. She was sure it was useless, since his eyes were so distinct, but Butch covered his own face as well, hiding his trademark scar.
It was Ray, Skinny and Jesus who were the first to take off, going North on breakneck speed. A short pause followed, in which Butch's horse started getting restless, she turned in circles and got on her hind legs in agitation. When the command was given to Frank and Barret to move out, through a small nod of their leader's head, Eleanor felt a pang in her heart at seeing the young outlaw leave. They'd be heading West, taking the desert for their account. He never once protested against serving as bait to her attackers, and rested in his fate that he would be the one to face the men hunting her, should something go wrong. A cloud of dust from the galloping horses made it unable for her to really watch them disappear, but once the sky cleared, it was just her and Butch.
A man on the high walls of the fort announced the arrival of the horsemen at the front gate, and Butch came to stand beside her. "Yer ready, Sharky?" he asked her almost kindly. Her own bandana, or rather Frank's, made it unable for her to smile in response, so she nodded, fear in her eyes. Rosa walked up to her, shoving her book in one of Bobby's saddle bags, she smiled at the girl, and gave her a wink.
"Don't forget this." She said. "You'll be fine, Chiquita." Her eyes moved to the gang leader. "I'll see you in Hell, Cavendish."
"If not today, maybe tomorrow." He told her, taking off his hat in greeting. Then he turned and smacked Eleanor's horse against its backside with his hat, causing the animal to jump forward in shock. "Heya! Come on you!" The horse laid its ears in its neck as it started running, with the girl atop clinging to his manes for dear life. "Faster!" she could hear Butch's rough voice spur up the anxious horse as he followed in close pursuit. "Heya!" They left the fort behind them, and she somehow managed to peer over her shoulder, watching its bleached walls disappear from her view.
Rosa waited till they were at a good distance before signalling the gate to close with a twirling of her finger. Smoothing back her hair and straightening her clothes, she turned toward the front gate, preparing herself to face an enemy. "Abrir puerta!" she ordered. "We shall give this Elton the welcome he deserves.."
R&R Plz
