Striking Gold

“Bart’s gone so we ain’t gotta worry none ‘bout the lawmen,” Jake seethed, he wanted to break every stupid bone in Bart's stupid body for being so-- stupid. He'd get the chance someday. And even though he saw right through Miss Eliza's pretty smile, he offered one back.

"I wouldn't say we're worried about the lawmen. Hell Miss Eliza, I'd bet my last dollar on you over any lawman ever. But there's also no reason we should call no attention to ourselves. Funny part? Really does look like rain headin' this way. " He snickered. "Bart near got hisself shot on account of bad weather? Not that I coulda shot him, sonuvabitch took my gun. I feel abs-o-lutely nekkid without my gun. Don't let that image go and make you feel all rowdy now." He rolled the R on the word rowdy suggestively, offering her a goofy grin at the same time. He wanted to say something, anything comforting, thank her for worrying about him, for sticking up to Bart, and he would, just now wasn't the time.

"Well I'll be damned..." Jake declared, an even bigger smile crossing his face. "Miss Eliza, I know where we are gonna ride out this storm. " There, by the stables, was a shiny red Carriage. "Likely the driver is spending t'night in the bunkhouse, it's far 'nuff away. I'll go grab us some whiskey, we can drink it up while stayin' dry, and in the mornin' we hook that cart up to 'em horses, and ride in style. What says you?"

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