Magnificent Young Riders
Chapter 2: Young, Skinny, Wiry Fellows
Chris looked over his fellow riders. At first glance, they didn't seem like much. Their trainer was not much older then the riders, barely an adult, and already seemed overwhelmed. A skinny ex-slave that was as deadly with a knife as most men were with a gun, a dandy, and a young greenhorn. He didn't even know what to think about Vin Tanner. How did he let Buck talk him into this? It wasn't the worst work they'd had done since they set off from Indiana. It wasn't even the most dangerous, but it was dangerous enough in the wild country. He didn't plan on making friends. He'd ride and save his money until he had enough to stock up on ammo and get farther west. It hurt too much when you lose someone you cared about.
"Now head on up to the house and grab a bunk. Mrs. Wells has food set up at the table. Grab something to eat then get back out here. I'm gonna run you, boys, through the paces." At Josiah's dismissal, they spread out to collect their scattered gear.
The boys started to walk towards their new residency when Josiah stopped them, "Mrs. Wells is not your mama, she's not your housekeeper or your nursemaid. You will be expected to help look after the horses and tack. And do chores and upkeep around the property."
The walk was a fairly quiet affair with the boys eyeing each other as they made their way onto the porch.
"I'm Nettie Wells," A short middle-aged woman stepped out to greet them, "You boys ready to eat?"
A loud grumble sounded. All eyes turned to the source of the noise, the boy in buckskins. Vin ducked his head to hide his flushed cheeks.
"Well, Son sounds like you could use a good home cooked meal."
Buck clapped Vin's shoulder with a loud laugh, causing the boy to flinch away. It didn't seem to phase the older boy as he hollered that he was so hungry he could eat all the express line's horses, before boisterously leading the way to the table.
The meal was a loud affair as the boys got to know one another. Only Chris and Tanner ate silently, answering only when asked directly. Chris watched as Vin guarded his plate with his arm as he quickly shoveled food in his mouth. He tried to figure out the other boy, tried to figure out why he felt a connection draw him to the blue-eyed boy from the very moment their eyes meet.
The table was picked clean by the time the new riders were heading out to saddle their mounts. Vin stopped long enough to pile the dishes into the sink while their hostess was out getting the laundry off the line. Chris watched the younger boy as Vin hurriedly cinched his saddle in place as Josiah inspected their work.
"Alright, boys let's ride!"
They spent a few hours going over maneuvers, quick mounting, handing off the bag, ducking gunfire, and how to hide from Indians. Josiah finally cut them loose with a final word.
"Vin will take the first ride tomorrow heading west. Buck will take the one going east."
The boys scattered as soon as they could. Ezra went to his cards, starting a game of solitaire. Nathan followed Josiah into the bunk room. Buck and Vin went into the barn to check their mounts for their first ride. JD scurried around back for some reason. Chris shook his head at the boy's energy before following the boys into the barn.
The dark-clad boy was just exiting the barn after checking that the first riders were set for their morning ride. Chris was trying to make it back to his bunk without being noticed.
"Hey, Chris!" J.D. called from the fence line. He was stacking old bottles along the top. Chris stopped and turned to the youngster, already not liking where the conversation was going.
"You wanna see who can shoot the most, fastest?" J.D. bonces with so much excitement he knocked over a few. He keeled down to retrieve them.
"You ain't the type," Chris looked the boy over dismissively before stocking away.
The bunkroom proved to be too noisy and suffocating to relax. He found himself sitting on the porch with Vin. The only noise was Chris' knife against wood and the occasional note blown through the younger boy's harmonica. They sat content in one another's company as the sun began to set. Vin traded his mouth organ for a spyglass abruptly when movement caught his eye.
"Fox," He explained at Chris' raised eyebrow.
They fell back into silence until Vin's quiet raspy voice broke it.
"There's a little backwater town up in the Texas panhandle. Tascosa. Flatter'n a felt-covered poker table. Has a big ol' Army fort nearby. You know it?"
"Heard of it."
"If'n I die out here. On this job. Take my body there. They'll give you five hundred dollars fer it."
"That's a lot of money," Chris turned to study his companion, "How come you're so valuable?"
"I grew up with the tribe, they rounded us all up to send to the Res. The army came in and took me away. Said I needed to be with my own kind; be civilized." Vin snorted. He stood up walking over to the porch railing before he continued.
"On the way to the fort, an Army tracker named Eli Joe decided he didn't like how nice Lieutenant Kincade was to the white savages, so he killed him. I saw him do it so Ol' Eli framed me up for murder." Chris stepped up to stand next to him. The stood in silence for a moment just watching the land. Vin pulled out his spyglass again. He held it up to his eye as he finished his story.
"I didn't do it but I couldn't prove it, so I decided not to stick around for the hanging. Wound up with a hefty bounty on my head as a renegade. So, I figure if a friend collects I get the last laugh." Blue eyes meet green, waiting to see disbelief or condemnation. Instead, he found acceptance and trust.
"You planning on dying on a ride?"
"Nope but life has a funny way of doing what you don't plan on it doing."
"Life is shit," Chris thought about his lost family, "And then you die."
Blue eyes met green with an understanding of loss and hardship. Then Vin smirked, "I wasn't planning on dying with a broom in my hand anyway."