The Sheriff's Second Chance
Page 26
“A smart man would’ve changed his name,” Franny’s dad grumbled, pulling the brim of his sensible straw hat low.
Percy grinned. His white hair was as long as Gertie’s and looked like a waterfall beneath his tall black cowboy hat. “Being good at one thing doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be smart in all things.”
“Tell that to your millionaire Monroe friend,” Franny’s father grumbled. “Mark my words. Harlan Monroe will do something he regrets someday.”
“He already has.” For once, Percy was dead serious.
“The cattle-drive campfire is for storytelling, not kibitzing.” Gertie got up and went to sit next to the kids on the log. “There’s something to be said for admitting who you are to the world, be it with your name or your actions.” She pulled in a deep breath and shook herself, as if needing to shake off the bad. “Where was I? Oh, yes... They said Merciless Mike had one of the fastest horses in the Idaho Territory. He’d hold up the stage or rob a poor unsuspecting settler on their way out west and be gone before they drew bead on him with a rifle.”
“That’s fast,” Kyle whispered.
“Sunny is that fast,” Franny whispered back to him across Emily. It wasn’t exactly the truth. Sunny was sure-footed when it came to outmaneuvering cattle, but not fast on the straightaway.
Emily and Kyle laughed, but didn’t argue.
And neither did Gertie. “But ol’ Mike got cocky. He didn’t get discouraged from robbing the stage when they added more protection or when he knew there was a posse traveling through the area in the hopes of catching him. He pressed his luck instead and robbed one stage too many as the good guys were closing in.”
“I like this part.” Kyle tipped back his straw cowboy hat.
Emily snickered. “Only because our great-great-great-something grandfather got stabbed when Merciless Mike’s horse threw a shoe.”
“Can I tell the part about Old Jeb Clark?” Gertie asked her grandchildren. “Without interruption?”
“Yes, Granny,” the children said, including Franny.
“Fine.” Gertie nodded and tossed her silvery red hair. “Merciless Mike’s horse threw a shoe in the chase. So, he crept into town and asked the blacksmith—”
“Old Jeb,” Emily said.
“—to shoe his horse quickly. But Old Jeb was busy, and he knew who Mike was, so he stalled.”
“And then they got into it.” Kyle grinned.
“They got into a fight and Old Jeb was stabbed.” Gertie leaned in close, as if this was the most important part. “Which would have meant the end of the Clarks in Second Chance if not for having a doctor in town.”
“Or if the posse hadn’t ridden up before Merciless Mike could finish him off.” Kyle grinned again. He could be a little bit bloodthirsty.
“Pfft.” Gertie shook a finger at Kyle. “When you have grandkids, you can tell the story any way you want, young man.” But she said it with a smile. “The posse came thundering into town, just like Kyle said. They picked up his trail heading into the mountains. And then—” she spread her thin arms wide, pressing the kids back as if bringing them out of harm’s way “—there was an earthquake.”
Franny shivered. She’d never felt the earth move.
“Boulders tumbled down the mountain from high above. Boulders the size of bulls.” Gertie’s eyes widened and her voice dropped to a whisper barely heard above the crackle of the fire. “Those stones knocked over trees and bounced off other boulders on their way downhill. Their collisions sounded louder than gunshots. And when the shaking and the rolling stopped, a riderless horse raced past the posse toward town. It was Merciless Mike’s horse. They found what was left of the bandit beneath a boulder. But they never found the gold he’d stolen.”
“Because it’s a myth,” Franny’s dad grumbled.
Gertie and Percy just laughed.
Copyright © 2020 by Melinda Wooten
ISBN-13: 9781488061844
The Sheriff’s Second Chance
Copyright © 2020 by Tanya Agler
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