The Stranger from Abilene

Chapter 41

The lone rider sat his paint among the shadows cast by the moon glow upon the pines. He’d watched the Hunter and the woman for a long time before the man pulled his knife and killed her.

When he saw the flash of moonlight on the blade, and heard it plunge home, the rider grunted deep in his chest. The woman meant nothing to him, but the thought came to him again that the Hunter was a dangerous and ruthless enemy. To kill a woman was to kill without honor, but the Hunter’s heart was bad and he did not care.

The rider had thought about shooting at him with his rifle, but the light was uncertain and he was old and his hands shook. He would have missed. He knew that. After the Hunter left, the old man rode down the slope to the cottonwood where the woman sprawled in death, her eyes open.

She was pretty in the face and body and could have borne many sons.

Aaaiii, it was a waste.

Lamps were lit in the Hunter’s house, but the old man could not see him. No matter, he would not try to kill him now.

He spat in the direction of the ranch house, his eyes ablaze with black fire.

The Hunter’s time would come.

Soon. Before the next dawn.