Pale Horse by Robert L. Ross (read 50 shades of grey TXT) 📕

ride comfortable and secure.” Colt tipped the man a $5 bill, and he and Pale Horse made their way to their passenger car, quite anxious for the ride to Oklahoma City. “Trains have come quite a ways since the last time I was on one”, remarked Colt as he stepped aboard the steel platform that lead into the car they were booked for. Pale Horse walked up the steps behind him, and looked around in awe as he remarked, “I've never been on a train before, this should be interesting” Colt laughed at his friend and said in response, “Yes it should, friend.”
As the bounty hunters entered their rail car, the attendant graciously took their jackets from them and hung them neatly on the polished brass coat rack that stood adjacent to the entrance. The passenger car was quite extravagant and far beyond what either of the two rugged and seasoned men were expecting. Deep, plush maroon carpet filled the entire room, black buttoned down leather chairs were spread about, some positioned in front of the fine etched glass for the passengers to view the beautiful landscape that was Colorado, and the rest of the gorgeous, near virgin scenery that lie ahead, while others were set across from each other in sets of four as centers that invited friendly conversation. Handcrafted wood of cherry and pine lined the decorative walls, and gold plated lamps with pale silken shades were found on the small but elegant tables that were tucked away neatly in every corner, with two more in the middle of the room on both sides, and an exquisite chandelier hung beautifully in the center. At the rear of the car, a young gentleman, sharply dressed from his neck to his shoes, catered to the very wants of every passenger from a bar stocked with an assorted collection of soft drinks, summer lemonades in three different flavors, and the finest beers and expensive whiskeys. Colt and his companion found their seats at the rear of the cabin, just feet from the bar and the glass that offered such a magnificent view.
“All aboard” bellowed the trains conductor as he peered left and right to assure every passenger had found their way, as the train began to build the steam required for her departure. Within minutes, the powerful wheels of tenacious steel slipped and bit to get their footing on the steadfast rails beneath them, as the crew furiously fed the leviathan the coal she devoured with haste to pull the weight she carried easily behind her. Huge frothy billows of laborious smoke poured from the darkened stack as she began to make her way from the station and propel herself slowly down the tracks.
“Looks like this should be a pleasant trip,” Colt said to Pale Horse as the mountains began to slowly pass before them.“Yes it does,” he replied, as he routinely surveyed the passengers that were making the journey with them. While sizing up the room, he couldn't help but notice the odd, now and again stares he received from his fellow passengers. A cowboy, about 35 years of age, nicely dressed in his denim and spurs, sat on the front left side of the railway car closest to the doorway with his hat pulled down slightly in the front to shade his eyes. Across from him at the front right side of the rail car sat a lovely lady, probably in her early 40's, very refined and a bit haughty in her manner, while another woman, dressed beautifully, probably in her early 30's, accompanied by her two small children, her son, a small and feisty lad, approximately 10 years old, and a beautiful younger daughter, with big, curious blue eyes and golden hair adorned with softened curls, about 7 years old, sat on the left in the middle of the car. The mother and both of her children were staring with wonder and delight at the beautiful landscape passing by their window. Just 6 feet or so from the two bounty hunters sat a couple of portly, boisterous elderly men, no doubt cattle barons or oil men by the looks of their expensive, hand-sewn tailored suits, each adorned with gray silk handkerchiefs and gold pocket watches suspended from heavy gold laden chains, topped off by English derbies and brightly polished silver-tipped boots to complete their ensembles of good fortune.
Colt looked over to his friend and asked if he would like a glass or a shot of whiskey to begin the day with, and Pale Horse replied to him, “Thanks, but no, It's a bit early for me” “There's nothing like a good glass of bourbon to follow such a breakfast,” Colt responded back as he stood and stepped toward the bar. “Irish Jacks, barkeep, and a refill for my traveling companion,” said Colt as he handed the man his near empty flask that he carried with him. The silver plated whiskey flask, with wide etching at the bottom and smaller worn etching and an eagle at the top, had been given to him by his father, who, in turn, had gotten it from his father, and because of this, he was very fond of it. While the bartender graciously poured the crystal glass full and then topped off his flask, Pale Horse stared miles beyond the morning horizon, in deep contemplation of the situation that faced the two of them.
After tipping the barkeep, Colt slid back down into the high-back leather chair and looked out the window to see the beauty that had all but escaped him so far. As he was fixed on the wild horses that romped and played in the foothills a hundred yards or so in front of him, Pale Horse spoke up and unexpectedly asked him, “So, Colt, how long have you and Temperance been courting each other”? Colt looked surprised at his companion, not knowing that he knew anything about the relationship between him and Ben's daughter. “For nearly a month now”, replied Colt, after taking a large drink off his after-breakfast delight. “But we've been kinda sweet on each other for nearly a year now, I think” As Colt began to relax into his chair and go on about the romance between him and Temperance, he could see that Pale Horse had once again drifted lost in thought as he stared out the window and thought of the peril his two beloved sisters were possibly facing, and how he couldn't wait to get to Oklahoma City to see if they were there, and if they were safe and unharmed. Colt had a good idea of what his partner was thinking, because he was just as worried about the ladies as his friend was, especially Ms. Temperance July, since he had just recently told her of his deepest feelings for her over supper, just days before the kidnapping. The more that Pale Horse thought about this, the more distant he became. Colt, knowing how worried his friend was, reached into his vest and produced the recently filled flask of Jacks, and upon opening it, handed it towards his friend, who, even though he had turned down the morning elixir just minutes or so before, nodded his thanks and took a rather large swig off of it as he continued staring out the window.
“Howdy friend, my name is James Alvin Jackson, and this gentleman here is my partner in business and friend of many years beforehand, Bartholomew Finnius Reynolds, but you can call me “Jimmy Jack” and him “Bart” or “Fin” for short ! Colt turned towards the front of the coach to address the man who was speaking to him and upon shaking the mans hand, said, “I'm Colt Mathews, and this fellow here is my partner and friend of many years as well, and his name is Buck Rankin. “Buck Rankin” nodded his head in acknowledgment of the introduction and just as quickly turned away and continued with the thoughts that seemed to possess him solely for the time being. “Delighted my new friend, what brings you on the 707 today, if you don't mind me being so bold” asked Jimmy Jack. “Just headed into O.K. City to do a little business and tend to some things that need tending to”, answered Colt. Bartholomew Reynolds spoke up before his friend could begin once again, and continue to go on and on, as was his way, and asked their newly found friend Colt, “So, what business is it that you're in Mr Mathews,”? “Bounty Hunting” he surely replied as he raised his whiskey to his profession and looked Finnius in the eye before finishing off the glass. “Bounty Hunting”, Jimmy Jack exclaimed, “That's quite the dangerous and lucrative profession I've heard tale, sir.” Colt, having observed his empty glass, was now standing at the bar, turned to the pair of gentleman while the bartender filled another glass and said, “I've heard tale of the very same thing myself.” A brief silence took over for the moment, with both men unaware as how to reply to such a response, when the air was cleared by Colt as he started laughing aloud, realizing the mens awkwardness. Jimmy Jack and Finnius both finally getting the sarcasm and joke, laughed aloud with him. Jimmy, quite curious of the partner dressed in buckskins with so little to offer in their verbal exchange, pointed towards a silent Buck Rankin and said, “Seems your partner there doesn't say very much.” Pale Horse, totally uninterested in the continuing passages of such idle and meaningless palaver between the three, continued with his silence as Colt answered him back, “Not much of one for words, never has been, and I expect no change in regards to such, but a fine man he is, and I'm all the better for knowing him, and of that I assure you gentleman.” “What business are you and your partner in”?, asked Colt. “We're what some call horse-traders, though we deal in cattle as well as the finest of horse flesh” answered Finnius while Jimmy excused himself to the lavatory. “Horse-trading, You don't say”? Colt replied, surprised that the business could provide such a living as displayed by the dapper attire of the gentlemen he now addressed as “friend.” “Yes Sir, been doing it for going on 10 years now, it suits us well, if I say so myself.” As Finnius went further into detail on the in's and out's of the horse-trading business, Pale Horse drifted off to sleep, a welcomed relief from the worry that had been plaguing him.
The train had been rolling on smoothly for hours as did the genial conversation between the newly found friends of the 707, when the pleasant demeanor throughout the coach had suddenly shifted. The sound of hard driven hooves pounded heavy the ground as several masked riders on swift horseback sped up to the train on both sides and began randomly firing their six-guns into the air. A sudden jolt forward startled the passengers as the trains steel wheels screeched their defiance at the attempt of bringing the Iron-horse to such an abrupt and unscheduled halt. Pale Horse, awakened by the gunfire, began to reach for his pistol, as did Colt, only to be instructed not to do so by the cowboy that was earlier at the front of the coach, but was now just feet away with his guns drawn and trained on the both of them. “I'll have those,” said the cowboy, as he motioned with his pistol for Colt and Pale Horse to relinquish their weapons and drop them to the floor. As the bounty hunters reluctantly obliged, the gunman told the horse-traders next to them to empty their pockets of their gold pocket watches, and wallets that they had stuffed inside of their suit pockets. Jimmy defiantly refused the order, and received a sudden slap on the left side of his head with