“We’d best be goin’, now,” Cyclone announced as he straightened up from the chair he had been slouching in. He had dozed just a little, but it was enough to renew some energy. “Everybody up!” He proclaimed as he pushed his chair back. He was still hunched a bit and was not at full height.
Rap and Henry groaned a bit and slowly lifted themselves out of the chairs they had been dozing in. Kitty had not dozed at all. She still kept seeing in her mind’s eye, what she had done earlier. She stood up from her chair and nudged Jeremy’s good shoulder. He had slept with his face down on his arm, as a pillow, at the table. He stirred. His eyes opened and he saw his older sister gazing down at him. He smiled and sat up straight. “Think you’ll be able to ride?” Kitty asked.
“Sure,” he said. He sat up straight and yawned. He started to stretch. The pain in his shoulder reminded him that he couldn’t do that.
The Tyrene boys, Butch and Ace stirred, but didn’t get up. There was no need, but the activity around them was disturbing.
Reverend Paul Lynch remained in his chair, while the others were busy donning dusters and checking their pistols. He too had not dozed. He had remained awake and even though they hadn’t talked, Kitty and the parson had exchanged glances throughout the vigil. An unspoken bond had begun to build between them.
Cyclone was in the process of adjusting his duster around his broad shoulders when he noticed the parson was not moving from his chair. A grim look of consternation spread across the old man’s face. “Parson,” Cyclone said. “You’d better get a move on.”
Lynch sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He squared his shoulders and looked Cyclone straight in the eye. “I’m sorry,” He said. “I’m not going.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kitty stiffen and stare at him in surprise and disappointment.
Lynch stepped up to Cyclone and added, “I’ve been thinking about it, a lot, while I was sitting here. I think I should stay here and bury the bodies. They were evil men, but even so, they deserve a proper burial.”
“I wish you had said something, earlier,” Cyclone said. “We would have helped you. It’s a big job to dig three graves. Takes time, and we have to be out of here before Manuel arrives.”
“Don’t worry about that. You go on and do what you have to do. Besides, I have three strong young men and two big strapping miscreants, who can help me. Maybe we’ll be done and gone before that bandit arrives.”
“I wish you’d change your mind,” Kitty said, drawing close. There was a slight trace of mist in her eyes. “I want you to go with us. It...it would mean a lot to me.” She heard herself almost begging, though she really wasn’t. She suddenly felt ashamed.
Paul Lynch moved closer to her. His eyes were soft, almost heart felt. “It would mean a lot to me too, Kitty,” he said. “But I can’t. I do have to return home. You know….”
She cut him off and her eyes darkened with a mixture of regret and anger. “Yes. You have unfinished business back there.” She tossed her auburn hair haughtily. “Business I took you away from.” Flashes of memory flitted in her mind’s eye; Matt Starr wedding another, The Reverend Paul Lynch on the trail with her, Dandy Jim Butler melting away into the past, Kip Dalton lying in the dust with his life’s blood draining away, Tom Vestry and Deputy Miller falling before her smoking gun.
She turned sharply away from the parson, not wanting to look at him or wanting him to see her, she shouted to her gang. “Come on! Let’s get out of here!” She hurried to the door and opened it. The Wildcats exchanged perplexed glances among themselves, and then without a word they followed her out, leaving the parson and the young outlaws behind.
****
Chapter Twenty Five
Wildcat Kitty and The Cyclone Kid Ride Again Page 27
