Two Moons©

Free Online Short Love Story

Written by American Author Sky Taylor

Set in the Old West

It was nearing dusk as Colt entered the town of Three Rivers and he had a gut feeling that signaled it had been a bad move. He’d had these premonitions before and things never ended well when he experienced such.

In hindsight, he should have tumbled on over to the trail leading to Featherstone Falls, his original destination rather than opting to make a side-stop.  

Three Rivers had been off the beaten path, adding a significant amount of time to his journey but he was in need of a good meal, a stiff drink and a comfortable bed. His horse Sirocco deserved as much too – the stiff drink excluded.  

After a month of battling brush, brambles and flying dirt, they resembled two wraiths in great need of a good dusting along with a good watering.  

And with autumn deciding to turn into early winter, the last few nights on the trail had been bitter.  

He’d surrendered one of his heavy blankets for his horse last night and today he was feeling the ill-effects of a poor night’s rest because of such.

Colt’s dark eyes scanned the buildings as Sirocco’s cloven hooves tapped roughshod against the dirt ridden trail of the main street of Three Rivers.

A barber shop, a café supporting striped balloon-shaped red and white awnings looking more appropriate for New Orleans than the Texas Panhandle, a sizeable mercantile, a doctor’s office situated over a funeral parlor – all those steps leading up to the doctor’s weather-beaten door not  making sense for anyone in need of help.

As he continued his survey of the town he noted a jailhouse with ‘Sherriff West Nolans’ scrawled across the top of the old oak door, a newspaper office, a boot maker and cobbler’s shop, a small schoolhouse in the

distance with a village church anchored juxtapose, a respectable looking saloon which was unusually quiet for the evening hour and a blacksmith shop to the right, his decided destination.  

All in all, it was what he would call ‘a town with charm’.  

The streets were impeccably clean, and the horse troughs sidelining the path were filled with fresh water from what he could decipher amid the ever-dimming light of dusk as some of the last sunrays slid over the area as the red ball of fire continued to sink in the western horizon.

After he got Sirocco settled, he would grab a bite at the local café, enjoy that stiff drink, and then he’d secure lodging for the night.  

That hot bath was sure going to feel good. All the grime, dirt and sand that he’d picked up along the journey were starting to eat into his toughened hide.  

While a dip in the stream would rid a body of a few layers of such, there was nothing like a hot, extra sudsy bath. And those last few dips in the streams had been quite icy.

As he entered the underpinning of the blacksmith shop - which was more of a large stable than a shop as the front lay open to the natural elements, he studied an enormous dark-skinned man through the dusk who was hammering iron.  

There was a hot, belly-high fire blazing before him with ashes sparking with the fire-fog and flying through the dimming light.  

There didn’t appear to be an ounce of sweat on the blacksmith as he turned to acknowledge them with a wide smile.  

He assumed that the large man appreciated the warmth. The air was so chilly that Sirocco was blowing smoke with each collected breath he took.  

Colt was hunkered down in a deer-skinned jacket lined with fleece and was still a bit chilly while the ‘goliath man’ stood in a short sleeved shirt, wellworn breeches and a leather apron cocooning his massive frame.

"Howdy stranger," he greeted, laying aside the iron that he’d been shaping.  It appeared to be the initial shape of a wagon wheel.

"Surprised that you’re still open," Colt told him, dismounting and turning to face the man.

"Well, generally I wouldn’t be but I had a rush order come in that has to be ready for the morning stage. Don’t really mind as the pay is quite attractive. Name’s Christian."

Colt offered his gloved hand and drawled his own name. "I’d like to get a stall for Sirocco for the night," he continued in a tired tone, his voice deep.

"I’ll certainly take good care of him," Christian assured, sanding a large hand over a generous shadow of a beard. "Two bits will get him all the alfalfa he wants and two generous buckets of oats. No charge for fresh water."

"That’s reasonable," Colt nodded, turning to remove the saddle and other burdening gear from Sirocco’s back while Christian reached up and began smoothing his hand over the horse’s head and mane.

"He’s a beauty. For another two bits, I’ll throw in apples and a few sugar cubes along with a bath."

Colt halted the saddle in mid-air as he considered the blacksmith’s proposition but before he could respond, Christian continued, "I’ve a warm area tucked into the rear of the building and I’ll heat the water good. It won’t be a shower bath, rather more of a good wipe-down to get off the dust and dirt. For another four bits I’ll give him a good massage."

Colt anchored the saddle over the railing to the side, turned, shoved up his dusty cowboy hat, removed his gloves and eyed Christian. The man was a bona fide salesman.

"That’s more than a room at the hotel’s gonna cost," he told him, the blacksmith nodding in agreement.

"That’s right. And by the time I’m through with your horse, he’ll ride like new. Everyone deserves pampering, don’t you think?" he proceeded to challenge with a lifted brow, the rough looking face now traced with warmth and innocence.

Colt shook his head. "Alright then, give Sirocco the works – but do keep him warm."

"I’ll handle him with kid’s gloves," Christian assured. "Ask anyone in town about me; they’ll attest that I’m the best in the county when it comes to horses. I often go to Featherstone Falls to care for stock in the area. My customer base is large."  

He paused, Colt noting the way that he was smiling at Sirocco as he continued to smooth his large hands over the tired beast.

He suddenly relayed, "My father owned a horse ranch before he died; had only the best of stock."

Colt studied him for a few seconds before asking, "You ever get a notion to change your line of work? To get back into horse ranching? Albeit it appears that you have a lucrative business going on in Three Rivers as well as in Featherstone Falls."

"For the right man, yes – I’d do it if he was easy-going and let me have a free hand with the horses. Why’d you ask?"

"I’m headed to Featherstone Falls. I’ve plans to purchase land there and start a horse ranch. You’d make a nice fit."

"And your ranch would make a better fit here in Three Rivers," Christian eased out, his face thoughtful. "It’s a growing, thriving town with more room to grow. Land’s a lot cheaper here and you’d have less competition."

Colt raked his dark eyes down the blacksmith’s large form and drawled in a mocking tone, "And I suppose that you have some land that you’d like to unload-"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Christian admitted with a sheepish grin. "Now I couldn’t let go of it for too cheap as you’d basically be putting me out of business-"

"With an offer of a job," Colt reminded, smiling now.  

Heaven help him but he liked this man. An unpredictable piece of work – big but harmless. That is, if one kept their wits about them when dealing with him on a financial level.

"As foreman, right?"

Colt burst out laughing now. "As foreman," he relented. "Pay’s good too – but I’m unsure about settling in Three Rivers. There are two thousand acres for sale in Featherstone Falls for a thousand dollars and the Indian raids aren’t so prevalent there."

continue

 

Related Content, More Free Love Stories

Complete Table of Contents of Love Stories

Site Map | About the Author

Trinity Moon | Copyright, Disclaimers