by Ami Diane
Ella’s hand fidgeted as she fought the urge to comfort him. The last thing she wanted to do was send him mixed signals.
“Six, I’m so sorry that happened to you. I don’t know your life or these so-called friends, but a real friend wouldn’t do any of those things you said.” She breathed in the scent of snow and tobacco, picking over her next words carefully. “But there’s another aspect you should take into account.”
“Yeah?”
“Morality.”
The buckskin slowed, and he guided Duke up a driveway—or at least she inferred a driveway by the lack of trees that followed a meandering path.
“Let’s take your best friend ratting you out to the authorities. Imagine if I killed someone—” Poor choice of words, Ella. “—and my best friend knew. If I weren’t a very rational person, I would expect her to defend me and keep my secret at all costs. But think about it. Should I really expect her to keep something like that a secret? To not tell the authorities?”
“‘Course I do. What do you think happened between me and my posse?”
“Sorry, just want to clarify something. Are you saying you killed someone and your posse ratted you out to the authorities and that’s why you felt betrayed?”
“Well, yeah.”
He said it like it was the most natural thing and he had every right to be upset.
“Sure, makes complete sense.” Ella squeezed her eyes closed, silently kicking herself. Of course, he had a different perspective on murder.
The man had to have some kind of moral compass. She just needed to find his true north.
After a deep breath, she tried again. “Okay, so what in your mind is unforgivable? Besides snitching on you. Maybe in some warped sense you can justify killing a person depending on how they wronged you—and I’ll even take into account you come from the American frontier—but what about a plain old murder? What if some guy you’d never met before randomly came up to you and shot you? Would that be wrong?”
“Ain’t nobody can outdraw me like that.”
“For the love of—fine. What if some stranger randomly shot me?”
He didn’t respond. She felt they were either getting somewhere or he cared so little about the hypothetical question, he couldn’t be bothered with a response.
Duke sidled up to a large, log cabin. Ella tilted her head around Six to fully appreciate the abode. It was not what she had pictured Dot living in, instead, expecting something more Malibu Barbie in style.
As she dropped to the snow, she shivered against the sudden onslaught of wind and cold.
“Thanks for the lift.” Her eyes traveled over the thick snow caking the roof and the smoke curling above the chimney. “You sure Dot lives here?”
“Yeah.”
She felt his eyes on her, and she wished he would leave. However, at the same time, she dreaded the hike back into town.
“Mind waiting around so I can get a ride back to the inn?”
He leaned on his saddle horn and shoved his hat off his forehead. “What you wanna talk with that odd stick about? You planning on signing Stan’s stupid petition?”
“No. I just want to know if her property was one of the proposed sites.”
He sneered and hopped off his horse. “Well, why didn’t you say so? I ain’t missing this.”
Ella let out a noise that was half-growl, half-sigh of resignation. She slumped up the porch steps while he tied off Duke to one of the supports.
The wooden door was uneven, the boards looking like they’d been planed by a drunkard. Ella knocked.
“Who is it?” The question came from inside, sickly sweet like honey.
“Ella.” She glanced sideways at the cowboy towering beside her, deciding it was best not to mention him yet.
“What do you want?” The honey was gone, replaced with anger.
“Just to talk.”
“About what?”
Ella bit her lip, searching for any excuse but came up dry. “It’s about Stan. And who killed him.” The last was a bit of a stretch.
The hinges on the door squealed as she opened the door a crack. Dot glared at her. “What?”
Ella was tempted to joke about selling Girl Scout cookies or ask if she knew Jesus but refrained. “Can we come in?”
The word “we” triggered Dot to open the door wider and peer out. Her expression darkened. “What’s he doing here?”
“He’s my ride. My jeep couldn’t make it up the hill.”
“That’s why I got a snowmobile.” She nodded at the vehicle tucked beside the cabin. It looked like nothing more than a souped-up sled with a steering wheel and lacked any modern comforts, such as a seat. “You two an item now?”
“No,” Ella said at the same time he said, “Yes.”
Ella stared daggers at the cowboy, but he was too preoccupied inspecting a row of garden gnomes that stood on the snowless porch beside them.
“What’s this?” He picked one up by its red hat.
Dot looked at him like he’d gone mad. “A garden gnome.”
“What’s it do?”
“Nothing. Now, put it down.”
“In my time, they advertise an online travel agency.” Ella cleared her throat. “But that’s neither here nor there. Do you mind if we come in?”
“Yes.” Dot began to close the door. “Gotta go. I got a kettle on.”
Six sniffed his nose in the air. “That hot apple cider?” He shoved past Dot, ducking under the door frame, and waltzed into her cabin. “Love me some cider. ‘Course it’s better with an extra kick.” He threw a wink over his shoulder and patted a bulge in his sweatshirt in the shape of a flask.
“What—he,” Dot sputtered. “You can’t come in!” She rounded on Ella, “Get him out of here right now.”
“Six,” Ella called, but he’d already planted himself on her sofa, leaving a trail of wet bootprints from the door to the seating area. He set the gnome on the coffee table and turned it to face him.
Meanwhile, Dot’s face went through varying shades of purple.
“He means well,” Ella said, trying to appease her. “Well, no that’s actually not true. But since we’re here, and he’s already inside…”
Dot was either terrible at picking up on social cues or blatantly ignoring Ella’s request.
“Right,” Ella said finally after Dot let the awkward silence stretch out far too long. “I’m just going to—” She sidestepped Dot. “Yep. There we go.” She wiped her feet on the first rug she saw. Unfortunately, it happened to be a bear skin. “Oops. Hope that won’t stain.”
Ella hadn’t thought it possible, but Dot’s face now resembled a blueberry in color.
“Smells delicious. We’ll only be a minute—”
The kettle whistled from atop the wood stove, demanding Dot’s attention.
“‘Bout time.” Six leaped from the couch, beating Stan’s mistress to the corner.
He helped himself to the cider concentrate, pouring it first in the cup that had been sitting there—no doubt intended for its owner—then followed the concentrate with hot water. Steam swirled around him. He topped it off with a stick of cinnamon from a shelf.
Dot watched the whole proceedings, her mouth agape, fists clenched.
Ella sidled into Dot’s view, searching for the best way to broach the subject of Stan. Her best opening was the woman’s sentiment for the man. “I’ve been doing some research about the town’s energy crisis. It turns out, Stanley was right. The town needs at least sixteen more turbines.”
Dot finally tore her eyes away from the large man in her living room. “Of course he was right. He was confident it would solve the issue.”
Ella tried to maintain eye contact with the woman, but it became hard. Behind Dot’s back, Six fished out his flask and tipped it over the cup of cider, then he pretended to offer the gnome a nip.
“Did Stan already have the sites picked out where the new turbines would go?” she asked. Dot nodded. “Was your property one of them?�
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Dot’s nostrils flared, and she gnashed her teeth together. “Don’t think I don’t know why you’re asking. Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. Not only was my property picked, but it would’ve been the one with the substation on it.”
Ella frowned. “How big is your lot?”
“Just under an acre.” Dot sneered as she spat, “Go on, ask it.”
“Your cabin would’ve had to have been torn down?”Ella asked.
Dot dipped her head in a barely perceptible nod. Ella got the feeling the woman was itching to wrap her hands around Ella’s neck.
“Did you know that before you signed the petition? Before you supported him?” If Stan’s plan for the property had been a surprise, she could see the unstable woman killing her lover for lying to her.
“Yes. And you’re still avoiding the real question.”
Behind Dot, Six lounged back on the sofa, sipping his spiked cider, boot stacked on top of the coffee table. But Ella noticed how alert his eyes were as he watched the exchange, how one hand drifted near his holster.
Ella feared the situation was devolving quickly and heard an inaudible clock ticking down on their conversation. “I’m sorry, I just have to know. If you were going to lose your place, then why on earth did you support the proposal? Did he pressure you?”
“No, he didn’t pressure me.” Spittle formed at the corner of Dot’s mouth, and she took a lumbering step towards Ella. Her fists were clenched so tightly, her biceps trembled.
Ella tensed, ready for a fight. She tried to recall precisely how to do the pile driver move, but the details were fuzzy at the moment.
“Easy there, tiger,” Ella said, trying to placate the woman. However, her comment only seemed to aggravate her.
“I just wanted him happy. Unlike her. She probably didn’t even shed a tear.”
“I know. I saw his wife cleaning out the garage not too long after he died.”
Dot’s eyes narrowed. “Lilly was cleaning out the garage?”
Ella shrugged and said, “Looked that way.” She had now successfully inched back a couple of feet. “So, why did you back the proposal?”
“For love. Because I loved Stan.” Dot’s gaze flitted around as she spoke. She was withholding something.
Ella stopped mid-retreat. “Huh, you really did love him. That’s it, isn’t it? You loved him, but he didn’t love you. Maybe a little, but not enough to leave Lilly. Is that why you killed him?”
Ella shut her jaw with a snap, instantly regretting her words. She swallowed, hoping they would climb back into her mouth. But Dot was a powder keg, and Ella had just lit the match.
The woman let out a feral scream. Instead of attacking Ella, she lunged at the closet, tearing the door open so hard it flew off its hinges. Her arm swept inside the darkness and came out with a double-barrel shotgun. She trained the muzzle at Ella.
“Crap!” Ella jumped back, right into Six. She hadn’t realized he’d even gotten up from the couch. His gun was already drawn, and he pointed it at Dot.
Ella’s heart hammered in her ears. She’d already been through one old Western shootout and wasn’t keen to experience another.
“How dare you!” Dot screamed. “Get out of my house!”
Ella tore out the front door with Six hot on her heels, moving sideways so as to keep his six-shooter on the deranged woman.
Once Ella hit the porch steps, she chanced a glance back. Dot’s eyes were manic and full of murder.
“How dare you call that woman his wife?! How dare you question my love for him?! Wouldn’t leave her? He already had!”
Ella slid to a stop. “Wait, what do you mean she’s not his wife?”
Dot screamed.
“Not the time, darlin’,” Six said.
The muzzle of Dot’s shotgun flashed a half-second before the wood frame holding up the porch roof exploded. Ella dropped to her knees as Six released a hail of gunfire.
“Six! Come on!” She grabbed his arm, causing a shot to go wild. The bullet hit the cedar doorframe an inch from Dot’s head.
He pushed Ella down the steps. “She’s still got another round in.”
Ella left the outlaw to do his thing and scrambled for Duke’s reins. She knew as much about handling horses as she did nuclear physics, but she wasn’t going to let that slow her down from getting the hell out of there.
She clambered onto the saddle in a way that probably had John Wayne rolling over in his grave. “Six! Get on or I’m leaving without you!”
Dot’s continued screaming had escalated to hurling profanities at them—some of which Ella had never heard before.
Still on the porch, Six bent to scoop up something before retreating into the snow. His outstretched weapon never strayed from Dot as he hollered, “You really think you can squeeze that trigger before me? Lady, I’ve killed more men than you’ve got teeth!”
Ella didn’t think that was something to brag about, but at the moment, she felt the comment warranted. She also didn’t want to know if he was lying.
She bent low over the saddle and did her best to get the horse turned around. After a couple of full rotations, Duke now faced the driveway—mostly.
Six swung a leg up behind her and lumbered onto Duke’s back with ease. Clasping the reins, Ella did her best to steer them down the driveway. For the most part, she succeeded, even if their path was more serpentine than straight.
Six must have dug his spurs into the animal because after they’d gone a few yards, Duke poured the heat on. She felt, rather than saw, Six twist his body around to keep an eye on Dot until they turned a bend in the driveway.
Despite the chill, beads of sweat rolled down Ella’s back. Snowflakes and evergreens blurred past. Ahead, the driveway turned sharply. She pulled the reins, trying to get Duke to slow down.
“Turn right,” Six said in her ear.
Ella pulled a rein.
“Your other right.”
At the last moment, the horse barreled around the corner, nearly spilling Ella over his head.
Six swore loudly. “How many times have you ridden a horse?”
“Depends. Do pony rides count?”
Six holstered his weapon, reached around her, and wrestled the reins from her grip.
“Hey—”
“When we’re further away, we’ll switch places.”
“I thought I was doing pretty good.”
“‘Bout as good as a dentist with pliers and a hammer.”
He leaned forward and spurred Duke to pick up speed. Something sharp dug into Ella’s back. For a moment, she thought it was his weapon, but then he held the reins in one hand while the other disappeared. A second later, he produced one of Dot’s gnomes.
“Mind holdin’ this for me?”
“Six! You stole one of her gnomes?”
“Rescued him,” he corrected.
Ella clutched the brightly colored figurine to her chest, trying but failing to summon some sort of guilt over Six stealing it. The woman had just tried to kill them. Although, she wasn’t sure the lawn ornament was better off with Six.
All around them, the boughs of the evergreen trees bent under the weight of the increasing snow.
Six’s gruff voice was in her ear again. “Sorry I pushed you into that bush.”
Ella winced at the memory. Most of the scratches were still a vivid red, and the bruise had darkened. “It was a rosebush, in case you were wondering. And I forgive you.”
It wasn’t until they reached the bottom of the hill that they finally slowed to a stop and switched places before continuing on into town. Ella no longer cared if anyone spotted her with the outlaw. He’d just saved her life. She hated to think what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been there.
Ella felt a little guilty for having pushed Dot over the edge. It wasn’t her job to investigate, and she’d been careless, resulting in her head nearly getting blown off—again. But she had learned something, even if she wasn’t sure what it meant yet.
A few weeks prior, a day full of getting shot at would’ve sent her for a change of underwear. Now, by Keystone standards, it had been a rather productive day.
Duke stopped in front of the inn, and Ella tried a graceful dismount that resulted in her butt landing in a snowdrift.
She jumped to her feet, arms held aloft and made another attempt at a gymnastic finish. “Ta-da.”
“Graceful.”
“I thought so.” She handed over the purloined gnome. “I think he deserves a name for what he’s been through. What about Sleepy or Bashful? I mean, I know dwarves and gnomes aren’t the same thing, but dang it if they don’t look similar.”
“Why not just ‘Gnome’?”
“No. Dopey?”
“No.”
Ella tapped her chin. “Okay, how about Amicus? It means ‘friend’ in Latin.”
“Amicus.” He tried the name on his tongue. “I like it.” He looked down at her with an expression she couldn’t read.
“Welp, thanks for the ride. And for getting my back at Dot’s.”
“I didn’t touch your back.”
“No, it’s—why do I bother? Whatever. Thanks, anyway.”
Six shrugged. “Hey, that was a hog-killin’ time. I haven’t had that much fun since I loaded Sal’s fireplace with gunpowder.”
Ella went through a range of facial expressions before shaking her head. “You and Flo should hang out sometime. You both have a warped sense of fun.”
“And I suppose yours is curlin’ up with a good book?” He wrinkled his nose. “You need a friend who can show you how to live a little.”
“I thought that’s what Wink and Flo were for?”
“Naw, they don’t count ‘cause in the end, they toe the line.”
“You mean, they follow the law. I like the law.”
They locked eyes and held a silent argument.
The saddle creaked as he leaned forward. “Maybe they’re your friends and they’re a bit wild, but you think they’d do anything to help you? Sometimes, you need a friend who’ll cross the line, who ain’t afraid of gettin’ his hands dirty to keep you straight.”
