Kay Linne: Thanks so much! Your encouragement means a lot to me.
No Big Deal: Thanks for the positive review – glad you like the writing. I try to make the writing in keeping with the style of the film but I need to do some more research!
Shekelz: Hey – glad you're enjoying the plot! Here's the next bit – I have indulged in a bit of a cliffie this time. Hope ya don't mind!
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters – I am just playing with them for a while. I won't damage them (much). But if I'm told to stop playing with them I shall sulk.
Lost Part 3
For an hour he and Hidalgo dawdled along. He had no idea where they were going but Hidalgo seemed content to follow the rough track across the grassland without guidance from his rider.
Frank had had a plan. Join Buffalo Bill. It was a simple plan but he was trying to be a simple man. It was life that kept twisting that simplicity into knots. He thought about the young boy, dying alone and unloved. He should have stayed there with him, or got him to a doctor, done something, anything, rather than simply leave him. And Miss O'Donnell had told him so calmly that he was dead, like it was an everyday thing, losing a boy. He was well away from there.
He began to doze, the influence of a restless night, a couple of nips of alcohol and complete faith in Hidalgo combining to lower his guard. The world was quiet, no birds calling, and even the wind had stilled. The horizon ahead was empty. The world had gone away and for the moment, that was the way he liked it.
It was Hidalgo's shift of pace that woke him. He had broken into a canter, jostling Frank into taking tighter grip on the reins and a firmer hold with his legs.
"Whoa, little brother – what's got your goat?"
He looked ahead. The roadway, rough as it was, had disappeared, or perhaps they were off it. Hidalgo had caught a scent of something and was heading straight as an arrow across the rough grassland. Frank worked to bring him back, pulling him to a quivering standstill. He stood in the stirrups, shading his eyes, then snorted with humour.
"You wanna be back with the herd?" Frank asked, his sadness returning abruptly. He watched a herd of horses gather themselves, sensing another stallion in the neighbourhood. They milled, uncertain, one braver than the rest edging forward, sniffing the air. Hidalgo called to them and Frank smiled.
"They're pretty. But we've got other plans, ain't we."
Hidalgo snorted, pawing the ground.
"And it ain't as easy for you, gettin' acquainted." He thought how easy it could have been, laying his dollar down. And how dangerous.
They stood, horse and man, watching the horses until a shout made the herd turn and run, a wave washing over the land. Frank sighed and turned to see who was interrupting their moment of enjoyment.
"Mr.Hopkins!"
It was the woman from the previous night, O'Donnell. What was she doing following him? He was not unhappy about seeing her again, but neither was he was hopeful it would be a happy experience. He wheeled Hidalgo, who looked positively crestfallen, and raised his hat in greeting.
"Ma'am? You're a ways out of town."
"I'm just going to visit my friends, the Watsons. They have a place about two miles that way." She waved an arm vaguely. "I saw you over here and thought maybe I'd better warn you. They're – they're jealous of their stock, Mr.Hopkins – they've been breeding them carefully for a long while now. If you were thinking of letting Hidalgo run with them, that is."
"How'd you know that's what I was thinking?"
"I guessed. I know men." She rode up, grinning broadly, looking a little better than she had the night before.
"You do that," he offered but that didn't seem to be the right thing to say. He had forgotten her trade in the brilliance of her smile. It faded as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Seemed like she could joke about it and he could not. He understood that. He tried to make amends. "I wouldn't let him run with them. I'd hafta to wait too long to get him back. I think he's already beginning to wonder if he should stick with me or leave me flat."
"You have plans to be somewhere else?"
"Maybe." He gathered Hidalgo, ready to move him off back to the road. He glanced up at the sky. It was a cold, washed-out blue, with high white streaks of cloud. In the north, a bank of dark grey clouds was building. He narrowed his eyes and considered telling her it might storm but he caught her looking that way too. She knew. There was something else in her eyes, too, and in her voice when she spoke, some fear he could recognise but not understand. She had nothing to fear from him.
"Mr.Hopkins – I was wondering. Could you help me out?"
"Yes, ma'am, if I can." His answer didn't require any thought. It was second nature to help any woman.
"The reason I'm going to the Watsons – don't you think we should move on? We've got about an hour before that hits." She looked again at the sky, and the way the dark cloud was growing.
He nodded, and stirred Hidalgo into action. She tucked her black in close, almost alongside him.
"The reason I'm going there," she continued, "is, I'm trading in Billy for a younger horse. He's still a good horse but I think it's time he retired. They promised they would keep him. I was wondering if you could give up a little of your precious time and help me find a sound horse. I know the Watsons but, well, I don't know much about horses."
He considered that statement. She did not look quite comfortable on her horse, not like someone born to it, at any rate. It could be the truth. He couldn't think of any reason for not trusting her to tell him the truth. And there was the thought that, in an hour, he could be wet and cold again – a ranch house and some hot coffee wouldn't come amiss.
"Be glad to help."
"Thanks."
He waited for more. He was used to females who talked when there was nothing to say, and she had seemed one of those only a few minutes before. He found the silence unnerving and turned to look at her, pushing his hat down a little deeper on his forehead as the wind began to stir. She looked thoughtful.
"You all right, ma'am?"
"Yes, Frank, I am. You?"
He let her catch right up to him but when she did, he had no idea what to say. She didn't ply him with questions, though, and it didn't seem impolite just to nod at her. They trotted on, the wind rising, the sunlight dimming. Getting caught out here in a snowstorm could be bad. It might not be snow, but it could be.
"We should move along a little faster, I reckon," he said, glancing at her. "How much further?"
"Over the next rise. And the next." Her mouth was set. "We got time, don't we?"
"I reckon."
But the clouds were gaining on them.
No Big Deal: Thanks for the positive review – glad you like the writing. I try to make the writing in keeping with the style of the film but I need to do some more research!
Shekelz: Hey – glad you're enjoying the plot! Here's the next bit – I have indulged in a bit of a cliffie this time. Hope ya don't mind!
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters – I am just playing with them for a while. I won't damage them (much). But if I'm told to stop playing with them I shall sulk.
Lost Part 3
For an hour he and Hidalgo dawdled along. He had no idea where they were going but Hidalgo seemed content to follow the rough track across the grassland without guidance from his rider.
Frank had had a plan. Join Buffalo Bill. It was a simple plan but he was trying to be a simple man. It was life that kept twisting that simplicity into knots. He thought about the young boy, dying alone and unloved. He should have stayed there with him, or got him to a doctor, done something, anything, rather than simply leave him. And Miss O'Donnell had told him so calmly that he was dead, like it was an everyday thing, losing a boy. He was well away from there.
He began to doze, the influence of a restless night, a couple of nips of alcohol and complete faith in Hidalgo combining to lower his guard. The world was quiet, no birds calling, and even the wind had stilled. The horizon ahead was empty. The world had gone away and for the moment, that was the way he liked it.
It was Hidalgo's shift of pace that woke him. He had broken into a canter, jostling Frank into taking tighter grip on the reins and a firmer hold with his legs.
"Whoa, little brother – what's got your goat?"
He looked ahead. The roadway, rough as it was, had disappeared, or perhaps they were off it. Hidalgo had caught a scent of something and was heading straight as an arrow across the rough grassland. Frank worked to bring him back, pulling him to a quivering standstill. He stood in the stirrups, shading his eyes, then snorted with humour.
"You wanna be back with the herd?" Frank asked, his sadness returning abruptly. He watched a herd of horses gather themselves, sensing another stallion in the neighbourhood. They milled, uncertain, one braver than the rest edging forward, sniffing the air. Hidalgo called to them and Frank smiled.
"They're pretty. But we've got other plans, ain't we."
Hidalgo snorted, pawing the ground.
"And it ain't as easy for you, gettin' acquainted." He thought how easy it could have been, laying his dollar down. And how dangerous.
They stood, horse and man, watching the horses until a shout made the herd turn and run, a wave washing over the land. Frank sighed and turned to see who was interrupting their moment of enjoyment.
"Mr.Hopkins!"
It was the woman from the previous night, O'Donnell. What was she doing following him? He was not unhappy about seeing her again, but neither was he was hopeful it would be a happy experience. He wheeled Hidalgo, who looked positively crestfallen, and raised his hat in greeting.
"Ma'am? You're a ways out of town."
"I'm just going to visit my friends, the Watsons. They have a place about two miles that way." She waved an arm vaguely. "I saw you over here and thought maybe I'd better warn you. They're – they're jealous of their stock, Mr.Hopkins – they've been breeding them carefully for a long while now. If you were thinking of letting Hidalgo run with them, that is."
"How'd you know that's what I was thinking?"
"I guessed. I know men." She rode up, grinning broadly, looking a little better than she had the night before.
"You do that," he offered but that didn't seem to be the right thing to say. He had forgotten her trade in the brilliance of her smile. It faded as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Seemed like she could joke about it and he could not. He understood that. He tried to make amends. "I wouldn't let him run with them. I'd hafta to wait too long to get him back. I think he's already beginning to wonder if he should stick with me or leave me flat."
"You have plans to be somewhere else?"
"Maybe." He gathered Hidalgo, ready to move him off back to the road. He glanced up at the sky. It was a cold, washed-out blue, with high white streaks of cloud. In the north, a bank of dark grey clouds was building. He narrowed his eyes and considered telling her it might storm but he caught her looking that way too. She knew. There was something else in her eyes, too, and in her voice when she spoke, some fear he could recognise but not understand. She had nothing to fear from him.
"Mr.Hopkins – I was wondering. Could you help me out?"
"Yes, ma'am, if I can." His answer didn't require any thought. It was second nature to help any woman.
"The reason I'm going to the Watsons – don't you think we should move on? We've got about an hour before that hits." She looked again at the sky, and the way the dark cloud was growing.
He nodded, and stirred Hidalgo into action. She tucked her black in close, almost alongside him.
"The reason I'm going there," she continued, "is, I'm trading in Billy for a younger horse. He's still a good horse but I think it's time he retired. They promised they would keep him. I was wondering if you could give up a little of your precious time and help me find a sound horse. I know the Watsons but, well, I don't know much about horses."
He considered that statement. She did not look quite comfortable on her horse, not like someone born to it, at any rate. It could be the truth. He couldn't think of any reason for not trusting her to tell him the truth. And there was the thought that, in an hour, he could be wet and cold again – a ranch house and some hot coffee wouldn't come amiss.
"Be glad to help."
"Thanks."
He waited for more. He was used to females who talked when there was nothing to say, and she had seemed one of those only a few minutes before. He found the silence unnerving and turned to look at her, pushing his hat down a little deeper on his forehead as the wind began to stir. She looked thoughtful.
"You all right, ma'am?"
"Yes, Frank, I am. You?"
He let her catch right up to him but when she did, he had no idea what to say. She didn't ply him with questions, though, and it didn't seem impolite just to nod at her. They trotted on, the wind rising, the sunlight dimming. Getting caught out here in a snowstorm could be bad. It might not be snow, but it could be.
"We should move along a little faster, I reckon," he said, glancing at her. "How much further?"
"Over the next rise. And the next." Her mouth was set. "We got time, don't we?"
"I reckon."
But the clouds were gaining on them.