Recovering

A dust covered Rath and the black horse, now more brown then black, passed under a "Welcome to Mid" sign. As the horse slowly followed the dirt street, they passed a wagon train on their left. People, loading and checking cargo and supplies, didn't notice him passing and studying them. Passing the front of the wagon train, he noticed a familiar orange tint horse with a familiar brand on its rump tethered in front of a hotel.

Pulling down his bandanna from his mouth and nose and getting off the saddle, he tethered his horse. Dirt shook off him as he passed through the two swinging doors. He walked towards the desk clerk, who was filling the mail slots. Rath stood as the clerk continued stuffing the slots.

Beside his right hand was a bell. Above the bell was a sign. "Ring for service," was printed on the sign. Slapping the bell made the clerk turn around and stare the dust covered Rath.

"Yes?"

"Which room has the owner of that?" pointing to the orange tinted horse beside the dirt coated black horse.

"Why?"

Removing a gold coin from his coat pocket then put it on the counter. With his finger, slid it towards the clerk.

The astounded clerk tried grabbing the coin, but Rath grabbed his wrist.

Pulling him into the counter, "Which room?" hissed Rath, twisting the clerk's arm.

"Ten."

"Alone?"

Pain on the clerk's face couldn't be faked.

"Depends. Women come and go from his room. It boggles one's mind how he keeps it up."

Smiling, "He's appetite hasn't slowed down," he thought releasing the wrist and leaving the coin behind.

The clerk rubbed his wrist as he stared at Rath walking up the stairs. Looking around, Room Ten appeared in Rath's line of sight. Putting his ear to the door, the sound of lovers in the throes of passion filtered through the wooden door. Shaking his head, he almost hates to ruin this moment of ecstasy. Almost ended as his foot kicked the door opened.

Entering, he discovered a red headed naked woman, trying to cover herself, alone in bed and a shooter pointing to his head. The hammer clinking back, froze him.

"Didn't you learn that noisy spurs gets one killed faster then a bullet."

"Surprise you could hear over her."

"Why do you think I like her?"

"You always enjoyed loud ones, Cort."

Slowly the hammer went forward to the safe position, allowing Rath to turn and stare at a grinning Cort. Walking towards a dresser, Cort placed his shooter top of the dresser. Picking a bottle up and removing the top, he poured the contents into two glasses. Returning the top onto the bottle, walked towards Rath with both glasses in hand.

Handing a glass to Rath, "You need a bath," gulping his drink.

"Blame the dust storm," remarked Rath shooting the liquor down his throat.

"Where's April?" refilling his glass.

"What about her?" Rath asked motioning with his glass towards the sheet covered redhead.

Putting his glass down on the dresser, "Oh yeah," commented Cort walking towards her, "Darling time to leave."

"Why?"

Pulling her up, "Man talk."

With the sheet wrapped around her and picking up her discarded saloon outfit, "Throw me out the door like trash. You acted and talk different. In the end, you're typical."

Grabbing her chin, "Treating women wrong isn't in my bones," releasing her chin. Dangling a pouch before her, "Believe this the agreed amount," putting the string in her mouth and pushing her jaw closed, "When this business ends, pleasure comes next," staring deep into her eyes.

Opening her mouth dropped the pouch into her opened palm, "Why didn't you say so?" closing her hand around the pouch, "Will your friend need company?"

Opening the door, "He'll take care of himself," leading her out the door, "while I'll take care of you."

Brushing her finger across his cheek walked away.

Closing the door and turning around, "Where's April?"

"With the sand walkers," refilling his glass, "Ever found out the reason for the attack?"

Motioning his head, no.

"Defiling a grave by taking a skull and necklace," finishing off his glass, "Now they're gone," turning the glass upside down and placed it on the dresser.

Sitting on the bed, "Did you past a wagon train while entering town?"

"That was them?" Why are they still here?"

Slipping on and buttoning his shirt up, "All the trail finders were busy tracking down some banditoes," sliding his feet into his boots, "They returned before the dust hit," retrieving and buckling his belt, "What's the plan?" standing up.

Handing the shooter from the dresser to Cort, "You know the members of the hunting party?"

Reholstering it, "I know the five."

"Check their wagons along while I talk to them," opening the door.

Stepping out, "Sounds like a plan," locking the door, "Did you get a piece of April?"

Walking towards the stairs, "I was a prisoner," walking down the stairs, "Didn't have time to be under sheets with her," stepping off the stairs, "Let's finish this to get back April," remarked Rath.

"Wait," said Cort walking towards the desk clerk.

Waiting as Cort talked to the clerk, Rath noticed some of the women were noticing the actions of Cort.

"He had a lot of time on his hands," thought Rath.

Slapping Rath's shoulder, "Lets go," said Cort motioning his head towards the swinging doors.

Walking towards the wagon, Cort went a different direction as Rath continued forward. He saw the wagon master talking to an older man wearing rugged clothes. Getting closer noticed the older just had a lot of hair that made him look old.

Noticing Rath, "Did you find the woman?" asked the wagon master.

"Yes."

"Got caught in the dust storm that delay."

Slapping some dust off his coat sleeve, "Correct."

"Then why are you here?"

"Tying a few loose ends up. Like why were they chased?"

"Simply their scalps were on the line."

"It's better if I heard their side? Shouldn't take to long if you're in a hurry."

"No, finalizing terms with the trailfinder," motioning towards a young boy, "Bart go get Tom, Clint, Steve Vincent, and Logan, now."

Shaking his head in acknowledgment, Bart ran off to find the five that set this adventure in motion.

"You're a gunslinger?" asked the trail finder.

"Yes, why?"

"You look the type."

"Understand you were chasing some banditoes."

"You're correct. Four of them to be exact, two men and two women. One had an evil name."

"What was it?"

"Mort."

"Second time that I heard that name," thought Rath.

Bart showed up with the five, stopping Rath's thought process.

"Which one's Tom?" asked Rath.

"The young un," remarked wagon master.

"Stand in line as…what's your name?"

"Rath."

"Right. As Rath questions you."

Studying the line, Rath walked towards Tom.

"You're Tom."

"Yes, sir."

"Be around women much, Tom."

"No, what does this to do with the savages."

"Trying to understand why they would what you. It wasn't like you were trying to steal their women, were you."

"No, sir."

"Correct, I mean any woman with taste wouldn't want a pup like you expect your mother."

"Leave my mother out of this."

"Is she died?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good didn't what her to die from shame because of you. Turning over in her grave cause you're chasing savage women, not petite women that your mother would prove of, or did she even fear those kind. You're properly such a tit sucking boy that your mother's tits were the only thing your mouth sucked on."

Taking a swing at Rath, Tom's fist hit air. Years of listening to Chiba allowed Rath to dodge that wild punch. Taking another swing at Rath just sent Tom spinning onto the ground.

"You can stop making a fool of Tom," commented the wagon master.

"Making Tom a fool," stated Rath, "He was already a fool. Someone just had to prove it."

"It wasn't a woman," blunted Tom.

"Now Tom, why would you say that?" remarked Rath.

"Don't answer, Tom," came from the line.

Studying the line, "Cracks are appearing," thought Rath.

"Why shouldn't he answer, Steve?" asked the wagon master.

"Yes, Steve, why shouldn't he answer?" repeated Rath, "Cause it wasn't your scalp they were after, was it. You took something of theirs, didn't you, Tom."

Far replaced the anger in his eyes.

"Tight lipped, Tom," came from a familiar voice.

Holding a leather bag with drawstrings, "This might loosen answer from his lips," pulling a necklace from the bag.

"It was them!" shouted Tom.

"Shut up!" bellowed one as he unsheathed a knife.

"No, Clint!" begged Tom as the blade went across his throat.

Rath sent a bullet in to Clint's arm and then his chest.

Cort's shooter stopped Steve from sticking Rath. One dropped to the ground, but he wasn't their worries. The one holding a knife to the wagon master's throat was.

"Now, Vincent don't be hasty," chocked the wagon master.

Pointing his shooter, "Got him?" asked Rath.

Aiming his shooter, "Until you pull the trigger," answered Cort.

Pulling the trigger sent a bullet into Vincent's hand. Cort followed by putting a bullet into Vincent's mouth.

Reholstering his shooter, "Guess this is Logan," remarked Rath motioning towards the man cowering on the ground.

Returning the necklace into the bag, "You're correct," commented Cort, "Wagon master, he's your problem. We got what we want."

"Fine, Logan will be expelled from the train."

Walking away, "Better get riding," said Rath.

Handing the bag to Rath, "Wait, is April in any danger?" asked Cort.

"No, but nothing. You need a bath and your horse sleep."

"And what will you be doing?"

"Unfinished business with a redhead," answered Cort walking into the hotel."