Liberty Run

Chapter Twenty-One

The day was cold, the sky a bright blue. He was dressed all in gray, with a pair of Grizzlies nestled in shoulder holsters, one under each arm. The Family firing range was all his. Few Family members ventured into the southeastern corner of the Home. The children were instructed to stay away from the firing range, which consisted of a large clearing with an earth bank at the east end. The Warriors used the firing range regularly, and the other Family members were required to visit it periodically to take firing lessons under the Warriors’ tutelage, to familiarize themselves with the correct use of firearms in case the Home ever sustained another assault.

Two rusted tin cans had been placed on the earthen bank.

He draped his arms at his sides, shook his head to relax the muscles, and drew, the Grizzlies gleaming as they flashed from their holsters. Both pistols boomed, and the tin cans flipped into the air. They dropped to the dirt and rattled to the bottom of the bank.

“Right smart shootin’, Sundance,” remarked someone behind him.

Sundance recognized the voice. He slid the Grizzlies into their holsters and turned. “I’ve been expecting you,” he said.

The blond gunman in the buckskins nodded. “Figured as much.” He indicated the bank with a wave of his right hand. “It looks like you’re pretty much healed.”

Sundance glanced at the tin cans. “Just about. It’s been a tough two months,” he admitted.

“I know,” the man in the buckskins stated. “I’ve been keepin’ tabs on you, checkin’ with the Healers every now and then. They told me you likely would’ve died if Bertha hadn’t tended you on the way back from Philly. They said it was touch and go for a spell. You must be one tough hombre, Sundance.”

Sundance studied the Family’s legendary gunfighter. “And to what do I owe all this attention, Hickok?”

Hickok grinned, his blond mustache curling upward. “I reckon you know why I’m here.”

It was Sundance’s turn to nod. “I guess I do. And I don’t see where it’s any business of yours.”

Hickok’s grin faded. “I’m making it my business,” he declared.

Sundance felt his temper rise. “You shouldn’t butt your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

Hickok hooked his thumbs in his gunbelt. “That’s where you’re wrong, pard. I do have a legitimate stake in what’s going on. One of my best buddies, Blade, and one of the people I care for a whole bunch, Bertha, came back from the Philly run all discombobulated. And do you know what the reason was?”

“What?” Sundance responded.

“You,” Hickok said.

“How do you figure?” Sundance queried defensively.

“Blade can be a moody cuss at times,” Hickok commented. “And he moped around here for weeks after you three got back. It took Geronimo and me a while to pry the reason out of him, but he finally ’fessed up to bein’ upset over what happened to you. It had something to do with some Commie captain. Blade blamed himself for you bein’ hurt. Claimed it never would’ve happened if he’d done what he should’ve done with the captain.”

“It wasn’t Blade’s fault,” Sundance said.

“Well, Blade ain’t content unless he can blame himself for everything that goes wrong in his life.”

Hickok mentioned, and chuckled. “Sometimes I swear the big dummy would blame himself for bad weather, if he could get away with it. Luckily for him, he’s got his missus, Geronimo, and me to keep him in line. He got over what happened to you.” Hickok paused. “But Bertha is another story.”

“Bertha doesn’t concern you,” Sundance stated.

Hickok was standing ten feet away. He moved closer, his hands straying to his sides. “Bertha does concern me, pard. A lot. We go back a long way.

We’ve been through a lot together. We were close friends before the two of you ever met. Like I said, I care for her. And I get a mite ticked off when some yahoo gives her a bum steer!”

“Bum steer?” Sundance snapped angrily. “Who the hell do you think you are? If Bertha has something to say to me, let her say it to my face!

She doesn’t need to send you to do her talking for her!”

“She didn’t send me,” Hickok said.

“Then why are you here?” Sundance demanded. “Bertha and I are adults. We don’t need you to play matchmaker!”

Hickok pursed his lips, then sighed. “I can see you want to do this the hard way.”

“We have nothing to discuss,” Sundance reiterated. “Get lost.”

Hickok squared his shoulders. “Why don’t you make me?”

Sundance tensed. “Don’t push me,” he warned.

“Or what?” Hickok asked. “You’ll draw on me?”

“I’ll only be pushed so far,” Sundance declared. “I don’t like it when someone meddles in my personal affairs.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Hickok noted. “You goin’ to draw on me?”

“I won’t draw on a fellow Warrior,” Sundance said.

Hickok smirked. “Ahhh. Ain’t that sweet! Tell you what I’ll do. You say you want me to get lost?”

“That’s right,” Sundance affirmed.

“Then you beat me on the draw,” Hickok proposed, “and I’ll make tracks.”

“What?”

“That’s right. You beat me, and I get lost. I beat you, and you hear me out. What do you say?” Hickok prompted him.

“You’re crazy!” Sundance exclaimed.

Hickok shrugged. “Everybody knows that. Now what about it? Do we have a deal?”

“I beat you,” Sundance said, “and you promise you’ll take a hike?”

“You have my word,” Hickok vowed. “All you have to do is get a bead on my belly button before I get one on yours, and I’m out of your life.”

Sundance mulled over the proposition. He was genuinely annoyed at Hickok for prying into his private life, and he resented Hickok’s smug attitude. Ordinarily, he detested exhibitionism. But this was a special case. He wanted to teach Hickok a lesson.

“What’s it goin’ to be?” Hickok asked. “Yes or no?”

“I’ll do it!” Sundance declared. “And then I want you to get the hell out of here!”

“Such a mouth for a Warrior!” Hickok quipped. “Ain’t you heard we’re supposed to set an example for the younguns?”

“Let’s get this nonsense over with,” Sundance commented acidly.

“Touchy sort, huh?” Hickok shrugged. “Okay. To do this fair, let’s both hold our arms straight out from our sides. Like this.” He raised his arms.

“This is ridiculous,” Sundance said, elevating his arms.

Hickok surveyed the clearing and the surrounding forest. “Do you see that sparrow over there?” he inquired.

Sundance glanced to his right. “That one on top of the pine tree?”

“That’s the one,” Hickok confirmed. “When it takes off, we slap leather.”

“We draw when the bird flies off?” Sundance said.

“That’s the general notion,” Hickok declared.

“That’s stupid,” Sundance complained.

“You got a better idea?”

“No,” Sundance reluctantly replied.

“Then when the sparrow skedaddles,” Hickok directed, “pull your irons.”

Sundance concentrated on the bird. He suddenly viewed the outcome of their mock duel as extremely important. He wanted, more than anything else, to put Hickok in his place. He was tired of always being compared to the Family’s supreme gunfighter. And he wanted to prove he was a skilled pistoleer in his own right.

A minute dragged by.

Two.

Sundance could feel his shoulder muscles beginning to ache.

The sparrow stayed perched on the tree, chirping contentedly, enjoying the sunshine.

Sundance felt a twinge in his right shoulder, and he remembered the cautionary advice the Healers had given him, not to strain his shoulder or he would spend another week in the infirmary. If the damn bird didn’t move soon, he’d have to for—

The sparrow took wing.

Sundance drew like never before, his hands streaking to his holsters, the Grizzlies flying free and sweeping low, the barrels already aimed, and then, and only then, did he realize Hickok hadn’t drawn! He froze, utterly dum founded.

Hickok laughed. “I never draw on a fellow Warrior either,” he explained. “And I’m goin’ to speak my piece, whether you like it or not.”

Sundance absently stared at the Grizzlies in his hands, then at Hickok.

“Bertha has been alone for a long, long time,” Hickok was saying. “Too long. Once, way back when, she told me she wanted us to be an item.

You’ve got to admire her grit!” Hickok paused, his tone softening. “I felt real bad about it, ’cause I never seriously looked at her as more than a friend. A close friend. One of the best. And when I met Sherry, it cinched things for me. I know there’s been a lot of gossip about Bertha and me.

Some people ain’t got nothin’ better to do with their time than flap their gums!” He stared at his moccasins. “But I wanted you to know there isn’t any truth to those lousy rumors. And I wanted to ask you something, man to man. Warrior to Warrior.”

Sundance noticed Hickok was using a normal vocabulary. “What is it?”

Hickok gazed into Sundance’s eyes. “How you feel about Bertha is your business. But if you do have any feelings for her, any feelings at all, then why don’t you go talk to her? I know you’ve hardly said three words to her since you got back from Philly. I’m not even going to ask you why. That’s your business too. But if you do like her, even just a little bit, why don’t you get to know her? I guarantee you’ll never find a better woman, anywhere.”

“Why are you doing this?” Sundance asked. “If she wants to talk to me, then why didn’t she visit me in the infirmary?”

“I’m doin’ this ’cause I’m a busybody,” Hickok answered. “And ’cause Blade said Bertha was actin’ like she’s interested in you. I don’t know why she didn’t come see you when you were laid up. She’s kept pretty much to herself since you three came back. I think something happened to her out there. I don’t know what. That’s for you to find out. If you want to, that is.”

Hickok grinned and started to turn. “There. I’ve said my fill. The rest is up to you. And if you’re half the man I think you are, I expect to be best man at your wedding.”

“Hickok,” Sundance said.

Hickok stopped. “What?”

“You tricked me, didn’t you? You never intended to draw. You just wanted me so rattled you could have your say without me interrupting. Am I right?” Sundance queried.

Hickok chuckled. “I’ll never tell.”

Sundance grinned. “I’m beginning to understand the reason for your reputation. It’s well deserved. You’re one shrewd Warrior.”

Hickok raised his right forefinger over his lips. “Shhh! Don’t let Geronimo hear you saying that! He thinks I’m an idiot, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Sundance laughed. “I’ll never tell.”

“And give some thought to Bertha, will you?” Hickok mentioned as he began to stroll off.

“I will,” Sundance promised.

“One more thing,” Hickok said, looking over his right shoulder.

“What?” Sundance responded.

“You can put those Grizzlies away, unless you want me to find you a sparrow to shoot.”

Three months later Sundance and Bertha were married in an elaborate Family ceremony. Hickok served as best man.