Pale Horse by Robert L. Ross (top 20 books to read .txt) 📖

his weary frame out on the bedroll already prepared, he told the others of how the trail had just disappeared in the darkness and how they would have to pick it back up tomorrow morning at first light.
Pale Horse looked over at both of his sisters and thought to himself how it all had seemed to be some sort of a dream, at least for the moment anyway. The campfire flickered with daunting shadows as the girls who's lives would never be the same stared off into the distance, quiet and reflective of the horrible ways the outlaws had treated them. Colt and Pale Horse both wanted to say something to them about it, but they swore they wouldn't until the girls themselves volunteered the information, and they were sticking to it. Pale Horse tried to lighten the mood by asking Winter Crow and Temperance both had they come up with a name for their new horses yet. “No, not yet, I haven't put a lot of thought into it, but I will,” said Temperance. How about you?” he asked Winter Crow. “As a matter of fact, I have,” she said as she gazed over at her new horse. A moment of silence passed as each of them waited for her to tell them the name. “Well?” asked Temperance, “Are you going to tell us, or not?” “His name is Pale Feathers, named after the two most important men in my life.” “I like that,” Temperance answered back to her. “I do too,” said Colt, as they all looked over at Pale Horse to hear his comment and reaction to the name she had chosen for her new Paint. Pale Horse looked over at his sister and replied, “That is a wonderful gesture, Father will be very pleased, as am I.” She smiled at what her older brother had just said, knowing that it not only meant something to him, but it would mean a great deal to her father too. As they lay back on their bedrolls, saddle weary and worn, listening to the random crackle of the campfire, the lonely cry of distant wolves could be heard as the embers were softly glowing and the four of t travelers as they were being mounted.
“Let's just see if those tracks are still visible,” said Colt, as he lead out of camp first, scouring the earth beneath him for the tracks they were following yesterday, but had to give in to the darkness for. “Here they are,” Winter Crow said as she looked over to her brother. Pale Horse pulled Spirits reins to the right a nudge to get him positioned over the tell tale signs that his sister had just discovered and alerted him too. All four, now back on track, knew it was only a matter of time before they caught up with each of the outlaws that had surely ventured this way.
Pale Horse's mind drifted away for a moment at the breathtaking sight of miles and miles of sculptured rolling hills and blessed fertile valley, tall green grass blowing in sweeping direction, mesquite, oak, spruce and various trees strong and full to their branches, rabbits darting thru the lush of maze, shifting to and fro with the given winds in front of them. White-tail deer, casually looking up at the passers-by, unafraid as they return to their grazing, while the redhawk, in all of its majesty, spread-winged, soaring carelessly on the carrying breeze. Pale Horse couldn't help but think how much different all of this around would be for him, and those that rode with him, had it not been for the darkened heart that lived within, and was, Shane Walters.
“You know, if it weren't for all these supplies we're carrying and the devil gnawing' at our backsides, I'd like to drop that 10 pointer where he stands and start up a big ol' fire and break out the Jacks,” said Colt as he shook his head with mild disappointment and continued forward with the task at hand. “I know exactly how you feel, I was up here thinking practically the same thing. “Me too,” both of the girls said in following. The four of them laughed at the similar thoughts they all seemed to be having, sweetly induced by the beautiful landscape and unspoiled nature that surrounded them. “Some other time,” remarked Colt, shaking his head and just above his breath,“Some other time.”
Several hours passed as the riders enjoyed the scenery and daydreamed of simpler things, but nothem slowly drifted off to sleep.
The sun was just showing its orange glowing face as the bounty hunters were packing camp, eager to begin their day, With little time for breakfast, Temperance passed out thick strips of beef jerky to her fellow once straying from the job at hand, pressing ever forward after the prey of which they were tracking. The distant sounds of tumultuos water began to fill their ears as the horizon dropped carefully into the blackened clay banks of the mighty Canadian River. Though shallow in these parts, the clay bottom was slick, and the bedrock all the more because of it. The waters running swift were known to sweep more than one man and creature far away before they either drowned, broke their insides on the river bottom, or random boulders and rocks grabbed them and pulled them under its crest along the way. With this in mind, Pale Horse took his rope, and tied it around the waist of his sister, as Colt did the same to Temperance. Spirit drew lead and lunged forward for the steep clay banks that dropped down in front of him. Pale Horse, feet dug firmly in the stirrups, and the lifeline to his sister wrapped around his upper arm and held firmly in hand, leaned way back in his saddle, with his head just above the haunches of his trusted friend. Spirit slowly navigated the muddy cliff and leveled himself and his rider as he stepped cautiously into the river flow. Slow steady steps with the rope in tow, Pale Feathers carefully followed suit as to say “Wherever you lead, I will follow.” Colt and Biscuit didn't hesitate to take the newly beaten path before them, leading Temperance and her mare close behind them. After successfully crossing the river and making it up the steepness of the opposite side, All four of the riders dismounted their brave horses and began scraping the thick clay that clung to the hooves of them, and while doing so, spoke congratulatory words of gratefulness and praise for the job well done. As each of the riders were mounting their horses, Pale Horse noticed some movement in the trees not more than 100 yards in front of them. There was no way to avoid it other than to go around, and that meant crossing the river again. He looked over at Colt and said, “We have company.” Colt looked up and in the direction that his friend was pointing and saw what he had seen as well. “Looks like 5 of them,” he said, as he pulled his Winchester rifle loose from it's holster and cocked it to see if it was loaded full. Pale Horse, while dragging his long rifle from its leather sheathing looked over at his friend and said, “Apache.” Upon hearing this dreaded word, Winter Crow and Temperance both looked at him with worry and fear in their eyes. Pale Horse, seeing this, reassured the both of them, that after it was all over with, the four of them would be safely back on the trail, to resume where they had left off. By now, the Apache, guiding their horses out of the afternoon shadows, made their presence known, sitting atop horseback, spears, tomahawk and pistols in hand. Colt, unstrapping both of his .45s and wrapping the reins firmly around his left hand, looked over at Pale Horse and nodded his head as to ask “Are you ready?” Pale Horse, with pistols at the ready, looked over at his sisters and told them, “Stay in this brush and don't move, no matter what happens.” Looking back at Colt, he nodded his readiness and said aloud, “Lets Ride.”
Thunderous hooves plowed the fertile ground beneath them and slung it with force behind, as the two bounty hunters charged at the Apache warriors, who, in turn, began whooping and hollering and charging back with pistols firing. Pale Horse, with reins in his left hand, and the long rifle in his right, tucked the heel of the weapon with his elbow to his side, and leveling it's extended barrel, pulled the trigger as it screamed it's thunder and belched its ominous cloud of gray smoke and sent its leaded delivery of certain death into the heart of the Apache now fallen. Colt, with reins secure in his teeth, spurred Biscuit like a madman, shouting leather muffled profanity as he fired his Colt .45s with accurate and deadly precision, splintering the breastbone and piercing the heart of one, and leaving his fatal lead mark between the blackened and cold eyes of another. As the Apache's got closer, one heaved his spear at Pale Horse, who in turn, leaned hard to the left to avoid it's razor talon. As the two passed within inches of each other, Pale Horse cocked once more the hammer of his peace-maker, and with his left hand, fired at the Indian, striking him in his side, the burning lead penetrating deep, piercing his lungs and leaving him gasping for breath as he lie mangled, bleeding profusely from the wound into the very spot of earth that would claim him as it's own. The last warrior who had narrowly escaped the deadly barrage and vicious hail of bullets, was now past the bounty hunters and headed for the thicket where the girls were trying in vain not to be seen. Pale Horse, realizing this, pulled hard on Spirits reins, causing his steed to rare-up, front hooves flailing in the air, as he leaned right and Spirit followed the path, clawing once more at the soil beneath him as he desperately devoured the distance between the girls and his rider. Colt, in quick pursuit, lay low his beast, crouched in the saddle and spurring Biscuit to lunge forward, slapped the leather reins against him and yelled his curses proud as he cocked back once more the hammer of death on the Colt in his right hand and pointed it at the brave who was now sliding off his horse and landing just perilous feet from those he was sworn to protect. He quickly pulled his aim skyward, not to chance a miss and striking one of the girls. Pale Horse, with grit and determination and the lightning speed required, pulled free the Shadow of Death strapped to his hip, while jumping from his galloping steed, landing on the Apache brave just as he was reaching for Winter Crow, and before the two warriors had found the earth beneath them, Pale Horse, with one fell swoop of the grim reaper blade, took the head clean off the now limp and flailing body of his enemy. Winter Crow, visibly shaken at the horror that had just unfolded in front of her, stared in shock at the river of blood that now flow freely at her feet.
Temperance, seeing the shock that her dear friend was in, lead her away from the now headless body and took her under a shade tree, giving her water and words of kindness and reassurance. Colt, reloading his pistols and looking down at the decapitated body of the last soul fallen, looked over at Pale Horse and joked, “That's a helluva scalp you took there brother!” Pale Horse, oblivious to everything that was around him, raised both of his arms heavenward, and the very winds that swayed the fringe that danced along them, carried his words of