Only 05 - Autumn Lover

feet.
    “Oh, Lordy,” Morgan muttered. “That boy must have et a full plate of stupid for breakfast.”
    Elyssa looked at Morgan, who was slowly shaking his head. She started to ask what he meant, but Morgan was already talking.
    “What’s your name?” Morgan asked the kid.
    “Sonny.”
    “Well, Sonny, you’re buying a pig in a poke.”
    The kid stared at Morgan.
    “What does that mean?” Sonny demanded.
    Morgan shook his head.
    “I’ll take the shotgun, Colonel,” Morgan said. “Hate to get such a pretty piece all dirty.”
    Without looking away from the kid, Hunter handed the shotgun back to Morgan.
    If it hadn’t been for the profound weariness in the boy’s eyes, Hunter simply would have told him to ride on. But Hunter had seen too many like Sonny in the war, good boys who had been pushed too hard by life.
    Some of the boys shattered like glass. Others pushed back savagely until they were too tired to care any longer. Then they either found relief or died.
    “You’re not gun-handy enough for fighting wages,” Hunter said calmly to Sonny. “But we need cowhands. If you want a job, take it and welcome.”
    “No woman’s fancy man is going to lord it over me,” Sonny snarled, reaching for his gun.
    Hunter moved so fast his hands were a blur. Before the kid knew what had happened, he was facedown in the dirt, gasping for the breath that had been driven from his lungs by Hunter’s fist.
    A long sigh of relief hissed out of Morgan. He knew what every other man there was just figuring out—Sonny had never been closer to dying than when he drew on the man called Hunter.
    Hunter sat on his heels near the gasping boy and waited until Sonny’s eyes focused on him.
    “As I mentioned before,” Hunter said, “you’re not as gun-handy as you think you are.”
    Slowly understanding dawned on the boy. He had been laid out like a fish for filleting by a man whose hands moved so fast Sonny hadn’t even seen them strike. If Hunter had chosen to use his six-gun rather than his fists, Sonny would be dead.
    The boy went white and began to sweat.
    “Well, at least he didn’t eat second helpings of stupid,” Morgan said.
    Hunter’s black mustache shifted to reveal a slow, thin smile.
    “Guess not,” Hunter said.
    With deceptive ease he stood up, hauling Sonny with him. Then Hunter stepped back two paces.
    “Kid, you’ve got two choices,” Hunter said. “You can apologize to Miss Sutton or you can go for your gun again.”
    After a shaky breath, Sonny turned to Elyssa. Red climbed up his unbearded cheeks.
    “I’m plumb sorry, ma’am. I was in the wrong. I had no call to speak about you like that.”
    Elyssa let out a shaky breath of her own. She was still stunned by Hunter’s speed.
    And by his restraint.
    “It’s all right,” she said, smiling gently. “I know it won’t happen again.”
    “No, ma’am. It sure won’t.”
    The men who were within range of Elyssa’s smile stared, entranced by the promise of feminine warmth and tenderness.
    Elyssa didn’t notice the men’s reaction, for she was concerned only with defusing the situation.
    But Hunter noticed the other men’s response to the feminine promise in Elyssa’s smile. His hand drifted down to the butt of his six-gun.
    The motion drew every eye.
    “Any man,” Hunter said, “who passes remarks about Miss Sutton will answer to me or Nueces Morgan.”
    “Nueces?” the kid asked, shocked again. “From down Texas way?”
    Morgan nodded.
    “Suffering Jesus,” the kid said in a low voice. Then, instantly, “Excuse me, ma’am. I was just plumb surprised to find myself standing this close to a famous gunfighter.”
    “Of course,” she said absently.
    In truth, Elyssa hardly noticed Sonny’s apology. She was too busy registering the looks of surprise and calculation that were passing among the other men.
    Though Morgan said not a word, his black eyes were alive with silent laughter.
    “The boy’s got promise,” Morgan said to no one in particular.
    For a moment Hunter didn’t speak. He simply looked at the kid. Then he looked at Morgan.
    “You want to take him on?” Hunter asked.
    “Someone’s got to. Enough boys already died dumb. Be nice to teach one how to live smart.”
    “You listening, Sonny?” Hunter asked.
    The kid nodded.
    “Morgan just offered to show you the ropes,” Hunter said. “You interested?”
    “Suffering Je—er, yessir!”
    “You’ll never find a man with more cow savvy than Morgan.