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02:35 PM

The road to Little Well was well-kept, given the town's size, and the tender grass and spring flowers made a lovely picture against the blue sky with its fluffy white clouds. It had even rained recently enough that the three riders kicked up no dust-- but not so recently that they were riding through mud. And even through this idyllic scene, Luke managed to find things to gripe about. The sun was too hot, the flowers made him sneeze, his horse's gait was uncomfortable, they were heading to a dinky little town in the middle of nowhere... and then the litany of complaints stopped abruptly as the oldest of the three riders punched the lanky blond with an iron-hard fist. "Consarn it, Luke, I'm sick an' tired of your wailin' an' moanin'. You volunteered fer this job, an' if ya hadn' taken it you'd be wailin' an' moanin' about the dust an' the cattle an' the food. Ah figger if you died an' went ta Heaven you'd spend all your time complainin' like a little old lady in a whorehouse."

"Damnit, Hank, ya didn't have to hit me. An' a whorehouse is another thing this 'Little Well' ain't got. Sure ya gotta eat dust fer months ta get there, but ya gotta admit you can have some fun in Abilene." The blond brushed himself off and climbed back onto his disgruntled horse before continuing. "'Sides, I'd've never come if I'd known what we'd be doin'. I figgered it'd be a payroll run, not a trip ta gussy up some old house jus' cause the boss's son's gettin' hitched."

"Maybe it'll teach you ta ask 'fore ya agree ta do somethin'." Hank snorted in disgust and took a plug of tobacco out of his vest pocket. His yellowed teeth sank into the sweetened wad of dried vegetation, biting off a chunk that was tucked into his cheek. "'Stead a followin' a buncha cows around fer the next three months we're gonna be livin' in a nice big house. Boss even gave us 'nough money ta get a Chink ta cook an' clean. An' we kin hire most a the work done. So shut yer trap. Ya don' hear Silent complainin'."

The old man chuckled at his last statement, and leaned over toward the side of the road to spit. 'Silent' was the third rider, who had thus far lived up to his name. He shook his head at his companions and urged his mare ahead of the others, tired of their bickering. I'll just see what's over the next rise. Maybe they'll get tired of complaining. Or maybe we'll finally be in town and I'll have a better reason to get away from them.

Disclaimer: The attitudes and vocabulary of the characters above are not representative of the author's personal attitudes and opinions. They are, however, historically accurate. If anyone finds them offensive, please feel free to pm me and we'll discuss altering or removing them.