The Half-Breed Gunslinger

by Bret Lee Hart

  Frank continued, "Hell, son, maybe we could be friends. Maybe you could work for me. I could always use another good gunman. I don't give a care that you're part Injun. Gator down there..." Frank pointed down to the end of the line. "...Hell, nobody even knows what he is."

  Hunter paused in thought, This son-of-a-bitch is as clever as a fox and as trustworthy as a snake.

  "You ought to be a politician, Frank."

  Frank laughed out loud and his men laughed along with him.

  Hunter continued, "In case you don't know, I'm not the friendly type. Gamblin' is my work now, and I'm not your son."

  Frank sat up high in the saddle and glared into Hunter's eyes, a look that scared most men.

  "Don't be a smart ass to me, boy. It's five against one. You're not that fast."

  Hunter returned the glare, slowly pulled his thumbs out of his belt, sliding his hands, palms down, and rested them on his thighs. Frank's men tensed up, looking unsure about what might be happening.

  "You might be right about that, Frank. I can't git you all, but I know I'll git you first."

  Suddenly, unease filled the air for a moment, until Frank loosened it up a bit with a smile. "You say you're a gambler, son, and I don't think you're bluffin'. Come on boys, we got work to do."

  Frank turned and rode off, his men followed. They were gone as fast as they had arrived.

  Hunter walked quickly to the house and went through the door, shoulder first, grabbing the loaded rifle and his shotgun. He stepped back out onto the porch, ready for anything. There was no sign of Frank and his men, they had moved on. He sat down in his rocking chair, and looked down around his feet. He picked up a bottle of whiskey, left there from the night before, and took a long draw.

  He thought about what just happened. Never leave the cabin without the shotgun and rifle. That was a mistake; a mistake that could have been my last.

  All of a sudden, worry came over him. He needed to get to town and make sure Matt was okay.

  He strapped on the rest of his gear, saddled the Appaloosa, and headed out with a strong urgency. The horse, after standing idle for too long, seemed happy to have weight on his back once again.

  Hunter arrived in town as the sun reached a little past straight up, and rode straight to the saloon. He tethered his horse to the post out front, and entered through the swinging doors. A feeling of relief came over him as he saw Matt standing behind the bar. Everything looked normal. There were men strewn about, drinking and playing poker, just like any other day.

  Before the gunslinger could get across the saloon floor, Matt had already poured him a beer and a shot. Hunter looked around the room once more. Satisfied there was no threat, he walked up to the bar, tossed back the whiskey, and tipped the beer back, emptying the mug, and belching loudly afterwards.

  "Thanks, barkeep."

  "You welcome, son. Nice to see you in one piece," Matt replied as he began drying glasses with a not so clean looking rag.

  "I heard Frank and his boys come in here the other night, any trouble?"

  "Just the usual – broken chairs, busted glasses, and they didn't pay for nothin'. Frank asked a few questions about you, I didn't tell him nothin." With that same dirty rag, Matt began wiping down the bar.

  "Well, they figured out where I was," explained Hunter. "They paid me a little visit this mornin' at the cabin. After our chat, I know fer sure they murdered my pa, and I'll get them when the time comes."

  The old bartender stopped wiping. "You be careful, son. That's a mean bunch. Other than Frank, you need to watch the one they call Gator. He's a big mean son-of-a-nobody-knows-what, raised in the swamps. They say his parents were gators and snakes. He might be Cajun, might be Indian, or both. No one knows for sure."

  Hunter nodded, "Yup, I noticed him right off; he had crazy eyes. I'll need to take him down alone, one on one, if I can."

  "Why don't you just ride out a' here before the shit hits the barn door? Save yourself some trouble."

  Hunter was shaking his head, east to west. "Nope, old man, I don't run. I'm gonna' live here, or I'm gonna' die right here. I'm tired of talkin' and I'm sure tired of this subject. Get me another beer, would ya?"

  Matt poured him another beer, then walked to the end of the bar and refilled some other patron's empty shot glasses with whiskey. Clearly, the gunslinger was done with the run talk, and Matt knew when to excuse himself from a conversation. The old man was born at night, but it weren't last night.

  Hunter was looking around for a poker game to get in on, when she walked in. His back was to the door, but he smelled her perfume before he even turned.

  Some of the boys in the saloon began to hoot and holler.

  "Settle down, boys!" Matt yelled out. "This here's a lady present."

  Hunter turned his head back around toward the bar and began to drink his beer, trying to show little interest. It didn't work. She looked around, spotted him, and walked over to his side.

  "Your name is Hunter, is it not?"

  Hunter looked up with a grin. "Yes, ma'am."

  "Please..." She smiled, even though she knew he was provoking her. "Call me Lilith."

  "Well, Lilith, you shouldn't be in here. This joint ain't as high class as your father's place. What's his name again? Oh yeah, Dick!"

  "His name is Richard Montgomery. But that doesn't matter for he has left town on business. I would like to hire you to escort me."

  Hunter slapped a shot of whiskey back. "First of all," he said, "I'm not a babysitter, and second, why don't you get some of your father's men to take you where you want to go?"

  "Most of my father's men went with him. Besides, I need someone who knows his way around these parts." As Lilith said this, she moved in closer to him. He could really smell this woman now, up close.

  "And where in these parts would you like to go, Lilith?"

  "I would much like to go shopping."

  "Shoppin'! I got news for you, lady, this ain't Paris, or New York, this is Myakka, Florida, home of the swamp."

  "Mister Dolin, I'm well aware what town I'm in. I would like to go to the Seminole Indian trading post. I hear they have wonderful trinkets for trade or sale."

  Hunter took a sip of his beer and thought to himself, How crazy am I, for even thinkin' of doin' this? If her father finds out, there'll be guns blazin' in the streets. But she was so beautiful; he knew he couldn't say no.

  "Okay, ma'am, but it's too late in the day. I'll take you to the post tomorrow. The roads we would be travelin' are treacherous, day or night. As a matter of fact, there's a particular stretch I always seem to have trouble on."

  Lilith was shaking her beautiful head, "We will go at the bottom of the hour."

  "Ma'am, you don't get it. We can't get there, trade, and get back before dark sets in. Besides—"

  Lilith cut him off in mid-sentence. "I don't want to come back to town. We will stay at your cabin – it's along the way, is it not?"

  Hunter's jaw dropped, "How the hell do you know...?"

  "Well, it's settled then. I'll have the stable boy prepare my horse, and stop calling me ma'am," insisted Lilith as she turned and walked out the saloon doors.

  Matt was standing halfway down the bar, just in earshot, and had been for most of the conversation. He shuffled back down across from Hunter, who was still staring at the swinging doors with his mouth hanging wide open.

  "You might want to put your lips together, son," Matt chuckled, "before some flies set up camp in there."

  "What the hell, old man? Were you listenin' in on mine and the lady's private talk?"

  Matt was still chuckling. "Well, sure I was. I learned it from a church lady. Besides, this is my place, ain't it?"

  "Yeah, it's your place all right. Don't you think it's better me gittin' a real job out there than bein' in here takin' all your patron's money at the poker tables?"

  "You just do what you got to do, son, while you're still young enough to do it," Matt said with a smile. Then his look changed t
o serious. "You just make sure your guns are cleaned and loaded in case Montgomery finds out." Yeah, Matt thought to himself, like no one ever finds out what anyone does around here.

  Without another word, Hunter stood up and began checking his guns, once again, purely out of habit, before he walked out.

  He stood on the saloon's front porch surveying the streets. He kept looking over to the barn doors, waiting for her to appear. He pulled out his last large cigar from the left outside pocket of his elk-skin coat. I need to roll some more, he thought. He flipped the cigar into his mouth by smacking the palm of his hand with the other, in an upward motion and catching it between his teeth. He went into the right inside pocket of his jacket, moving around his smaller cigarillos 'til he found a match. Striking it on the bottom of his thigh, the match head came alive with a flash, the smell of sulfur taking over the air as he lit his smoke. Where the hell is she? he wondered. Who was he kidding? He would wait on this woman all day, if need be.

  He was about to step down onto the street and head toward the barn, when she appeared from the doors and rode up to him sidesaddle, on the most beautiful black stallion he'd ever seen. She wore a light brown dress that came down to her ankles, with a matching cowgirl hat, and her long auburn hair pony-tailed down past the middle of her back. With his eyes, he traced the outline of her tightly worn outfit. The spell he was under was only broken by her Spencer rifle, the headstock sticking out from the saddle's sheath.

  "Are you ready to go, Mr. Dolin?" she asked, followed by a big smile.

  "I'm ready. I hope you can handle that animal in case we run into trouble."

  "Yes, I can handle him." At that moment, she flipped her left leg over the stallion, out of her sidesaddle position, and with her foot sliding into the stirrup, she took off, the horse's hooves kicking up dirt and dust.

  Hunter, staring in disbelief, jumped on his horse and took off after her. That's one lucky saddle, he thought to himself.

  He caught up with Lilith and the black, just outside of town. They rode their horses at a walk, side-by-side for a few minutes in silence.

  Until finally, Hunter had to ask, "How do you ride like that?"

  "Why...whatever do you mean?" asked Lilith.

  "Like a man, not side saddle?"

  She looked at him with a smile, and slowly, seductively, she reached down and grabbed the bottom of her ankle-length dress. She slowly pulled upward to expose her right leg.

  Hunter's eyes widened with excitement at what he might see; he then laughed a little. Clever girl, he thought. To his surprise, she wore a pair of man pants under her dress. Hunter had seen women in dresses, and out of dresses, but never in man pants.

  "We better git movin' if we're gonna' get any shoppin' in today."

  "All right," she replied, "Let's ride."

  They kicked the horses in the side with their heels, and rode off down the wagon trail, heading slightly north toward the Seminole Indian trading post.

  They arrived at the post with only a little time to shop before dark. They tied their horses to the hitching post, and walked down the aisles set in rows like cornfields.

  These Seminole Indians were descendants of the Lower Creeks, together with remnants of the Choctaw, and other conquered tribes. Also mixed in was a large negro element of run-away slaves. It seemed to Hunter, these Indians might survive here in the swamps, unlike a lot of the other tribes out in the mid-west. The blue coats had killed or relocated the majority of the tribes that would not relent, but now were content to leave the rest alone, as a war between the states approached. If America was the melting pot of the world, then Florida was the melting pot of America.

  They strolled up and down the aisles. Lilith bought some beads and a basket with, what appeared to Hunter, little enthusiasm. He felt she was just going through the motions, killing time until they must go. He had been painfully attracted to this woman ever since the first time he saw her, stepping down from the stagecoach, and then again on the stairs at the hotel. He was beginning to think she was feeling the same way toward him.

  They continued along, side-by-side, not saying too much, until Hunter spoke, "Is this market what you were lookin' for?"

  "Yes, it's quite nice." She stopped walking and turned to face him, taking both his hands in hers. "It's not the shopping I'm enjoying, it's the company."

  Hunter was mesmerized, staring into her beautiful green eyes. They kissed slowly and passionately, her lips soft as rose petals. Hunter was thinking, Her lips feel soft as the underbelly of a baby water moccasin. After a moment, they pulled away from each other.

  "We better head back to the cabin before it gets dark," Hunter said quietly, nervously looking around, then back to her.

  "Whatever you say, Mister." Lilith replied breathlessly.

  Their eye to eye contact was broken again by Hunter, who suddenly realized what they had done. Kissed in public. He glanced around once more through the small crowd, and noticed two local cowboys he knew as gamblers from Matt's saloon.

  They were watching Hunter and Lilith from a distance. Men like Richard Montgomery would pay well for information, especially of this sort, and Hunter had won quite a few pots at the poker tables at the expense of those two. They could be looking to recoup some of that money.

  "C'mon," Hunter said, as he lightly grabbed her arm. "Let's git outta' here," as he lead her out of the market to their horses.

  They quickly mounted and headed south toward the cabin just as the sun was dropping over the tree line to the west. They rode with purpose, staying off the main trail as much as possible. They crisscrossed the small streams along the way, and doubled back several times, making sure they weren't followed. They arrived within sight of the cabin well after dark, but it was a clear night and the moon and stars were out in full, giving off ample light. They rode right up to the small front porch.

  Hunter dismounted. Removing his revolver and pulling the hammer back with his thumb, he slowly pushed open the front door. The room was lit up fairly well from the moonlight shining through the crossfire slits carved in the wooden shutters. He looked around, checking the shadowed corners. Certain there were no intruders in the one room cabin, he walked over to the eating table, holstering his Colt as he went. He struck a match, lit a candle, and quickly went back outside.

  Hunter looked about the semi-dark terrain while listening for any sign of movement. Satisfied there was no one about, he walked to Lilith where she remained in the saddle on top of her black stallion.

  "The coast is clear, my lady," Hunter said, reaching for her as she dismounted. They stood face to face for a moment, then they kissed. Her tongue was soft and alluring, and her smell was maddening. He pushed her away slightly and gently with a small moan, feeling himself becoming aroused. Hunter cleared his throat involuntarily.

  "There's water in the basin, if you'd like to go inside and wash up. I need to take care of the horses and put them away for the night." He started to walk away.

  But she pulled him back, not letting go of his hands. She stared into his eyes.

  "What?" he questioned.

  "Be careful," she said.

  "It's fine," he said. "There's no one about."

  With this assurance, she released him, turned, and walked inside.

  Hunter walked the horses through the corral and into the barn. After removing the gear and brushing them down, at a record pace, and measuring out their feed, he washed off in the horse trough. He wished he had time to take a proper bath, but this was not going to happen. Besides, he'd bathed in the river three or four days ago, and it wasn't even summer. He dried off with his bandana, and walked across the front yard and stopping at the cabin door. He rubbed his finger across his front teeth before entering.

  The first thing he noticed was the man pants she had been wearing under her dress. They were now hanging over the back of one of the chairs. This excited him. He looked to his left to find her lying in his bed propped up on one elbow, her hair was down, and the covers w
ere barely covering her breasts.

  "Make love to me, sir, I beg of you," she pleaded quietly.

  Hearing her plea, Hunter kicked the door closed with his boot, then grabbed the three by six plank leaning against the wall, and shoved it in the slots to bar the only entrance to the cabin.

  She watched with amusement as he feverishly unbuckled his gunbelt and fumbled around trying to remove his shirt, his boots, his pants, and finally his long johns. She thought he looked magnificent, already standing at attention, with his muscular physique, lightly tanned skin, and many battle scars.

  He grabbed his belt that holstered the Colts off the floor and hung them over the bedpost, before crawling under the covers into her waiting arms. They kissed, limbs intertwining while their hands explored each other's bodies. He entered her slowly and deep, as they moaned with pleasure. Her warm juices flowed with excitement. He exploded in her with a passion like she had never felt before. They lay there, breathing heavily, together as one.

  They made love several more times that night, each time longer and more passionate than the last. Without words, exhausted, they both fell asleep.

  * * * * *

  They surrounded the cabin an hour before dawn. Montgomery and five of his men crept up quietly to the windows and stuck rifles through the bottom of the cross-slits in the shutters, aiming at Hunter and Lilith, who were holding each other, fast asleep.

  Richard Montgomery gave the order to fire. The crack of the rifles rang out.

  Hunter jumped out of bed with a yell, grabbing his revolvers, one in each hand. He stood there naked, glistening with sweat, chest heaving in and out, his head going left then looking right. He looked down to see blood seeping out of several bullet holes in his stomach – they were dead, if this weren't a bad dream.

  Now awake, standing there, the blood and bullet holes were gone; they were just a product of his nightmare. He looked down at Lilith. She was on the bed, jammed up against the wall, the covers held up to her neck, eyes wide open.

  "What is it?" she demanded.

  Hunter lowered his weapons and took a deep breath. "It was a dream, but my dreams are my instincts showed to me in pictures. They are comin' after us; the question is when." Hunter grabbed his drawers off the floor. "If we're going to be together were going to have to ride on and leave this place."