The Man in the Stetson Freewrite

all photos courtesy of Pixabay

Sitting tall in the saddle, the lone rider scanned the horizon. He pull the battered old Stetson lower over his steely blue eyes. The young black stallion with the white blaze pawed at the hard ground, stirring up small dust clouds.

Jake reach for his canteen, and shook it before opening and peering inside. Not much water left. Perhaps enough for a swallow for him and a drink for his reliable steed.

Jake took a long swig of the tepid water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He dismounted, filled his stetson with the remainder of the water offering it to Thunder.

They had a long journey in front of them and they would need water and shelter for the night. The sun blazed down. No breezes to cool them. Not a cloud in the sky.

Jake remounted Thunder and gave him a gentle nudge. Thunder knew the drill. This wasn’t his first rodeo and definitely not the first time that they had crossed this barren waste together.

Thunder could sense that Jake was anxious. He held the reins firmly, sat bullet straight in the saddle and seemed to be jack rabbit alert. He was expecting trouble. Thunder could smell it in the air.

They needed to travel at least half a day more before they would come to their usual camping spot high in a rocky out cropping. There was a spring with cool running water, where Thunder could his fill and Jake could fill the canteens.

The sun was just setting across the top of the out crop as they stopped for the night. Jake unsaddled Thunder and turned him loose. Thunder was grateful for the long cool drink of water. Thunder quietly munched on a small patch of weeds growing close to the spring.

Jake took a deep drink of cool water and refilled the canteens. He pulled a piece of deer jerky from his saddle bag. No fire tonight. Don’t want to attract unwanted attention.

Jake surveyed the horizon from behind a large boulder. He couldn’t see much, but he could sense they were out there. They would be coming soon. He would have no choice but to have the shown down that he knew would come.

He drifted in and out of consciousness, dreaming of the girl in the red plaid dress with the white lace collar. It was cold and he pulled his deer skinned jacket tighter around him.

Thunder was nudging him with a cold wet nose. He been to the spring. Jake looked about him, trying to get his bearings. It had to be just after midnight. The barren landscape was washed in the pale light of the full moon.

Jake jumped up and went reached for his Winchester. He removed his Stetson and peered over the rock, squinting to get a better look. He could barely make out a large cloud of dust floating across the horizon. They were coming.