Against All Odds by Allan Deya (top novels of all time .TXT) 📖

He lived on the edge of town in a log cabin that seemed to spew out gentle looking smoke all year round. He had no friends, or if he did, they did not visit him very often and if they did never in the light of day.

It was apparent that he went to great pains to tend to his land and look after his flock and because of that he had one of the most beautiful homesteads in Long County; the happy fields of green punctuated every now and then by rolling hills and cut across by a calm creek.

If you gazed hard enough, you could see the sun smile just a tad more warmly on his crops and the rain fall just a mite more abundant for his cattle. He troubled no one; barely even spoke when spoken to. Not that he was rude or callous, no; he would just make it so that you understood he wanted to keep his own counsel.

Of course the fact that he was colored was a bit of a shock to most the first time they met him, but because he paid no never mind to them and their business they tended to do the same with him. Outsiders who tried to rouse rubble were usually put in their place and in due haste.

He might have been ‘not white’ but his ranch provided labor for a good number of the cowboys in town; when they were not transporting beef down to Maringo for sale, they were traversing the rocky ridges spotting, capturing and breaking the wild mares that inhabited the land.

And that meant trade with the other towns and trade meant more people coming to town to try and do away with the transport fee that caravan keepers charged at their end, and that meant more money flowing into the town. Everyone was happy. Not to mention that he had the freshest and healthiest crop in the county. He took care of them, and they protected him.

He came to town twice a month; in the second and fourth weeks. The former was to barter or sell his wares as well as stock up on provisions for his home and the latter would be to enjoy the revelry that the local salon put on every end of the month and indulge in a few drinks. Always sat at the corner, alone and drank in silence- clapping subdudely every time an act was done whether it was good or not.

“Look at that nigger!” spat Danny Wilde as he tossed a fresh handful of tobacco into his mouth. “Sittin there like he own the place, somebody needs to show him is place.” “And who exactly gon do that Danny? You know the whole town be rooting for im, we couldn’t touch im and ever be welcome ere again.” Peter Dunn told him even though the gleam in his eye told them all that ol Danny was past the point of caring.

Lesley Black was in his usual spot at the base of the pillar; a glass of cherry in hand and a cheroot in his mouth. He had on tan colored pants with a like colored waist coat over a starched white shirt and wide brimmed Stetson hat; and of course his trade mark long coat completed the attire. Maybe it was overkill for a simple salon, but whenever e went into it he considered it a social hall and thus dressed accordingly.

He noticed her looking his way; it was hard to miss, after all she was the centre of focus for most of the evening. It was more than just the entertainer making eye contact with the audience when her eyes found his: they were searching, pleading even demanding. He smiled at her as he did all the performers and clapped when she finished each ballad but in his mind gave himself another mental kick. He shouldn’t have gone after her, he should have gone home.

She kept her eyes on him even as she left the stage for the last time that evening. He had not responded to her eyes just as he had not responded to any of the missives she had sent him since that night. She understood his reasons for it but that did not quell hr urge to strangle him any. Yes a union between them would surely raise a few tempers throughout the county and even beyond. She was among the most sought after females for a stretch and he was, well he was black.

People tended to let him be because he was a big outfit and most of the townsfolk’s livelihood depended on him but were he to snatch one of their own from right under their noses the shaky truce hey maintained would be destroyed. He knew that as did she but that did not stop hr wanting him. “Shall we?” the man asked, and she took him by the hand making sure that everyone in the salon knew exactly what their intention in going up the stairs was, but again he did not react. Instead he lifted his glass in salute to the call for another round of applause to the lovely Miss Daisey May.

Milly, the barmaid bent over his table to add another shot to his glass and the ire she had barely been keeping in check exploded. Everyone knew of her reputation; she took any man to her bed when she had a mind to and if the rumors were true they always crawled back to it, married or not. And there she was giving him a full view of her ample bosom. She said something that had him raising his brows and he responded in a manner that had color rising in Millicent’s cheeks. Of course no one would raise an eyebrow if he took the local bar maid as a wife; and the unfairness of it all had her seeing only red.

If he had not wanted to take the risk the he should not have followed her up the stairs that time and complimented her with all those nice big words and in that deeply male timbre of his, especially not when he was standing that close. And he should not have let her kiss him, just as surely as she should not have responded to his touch so ardently. But what was, was and since that night weeks ago she had been unable to keep her mind off the thought of him or the memory of them and she would be damned if she let him forget it.

She took the seat opposite him at the table and leaned in close. “Bastard.” She hissed, to which he merely smiled. “Milly why don’t you get Daisey May a sherry of her own?” “Why sure honey.” She drawled giving him a meaningful look. “I would do anything for you. Anything.” After the drink was served and paid for and Milly moved on to cavort elsewhere she turned back to him eyes of steely gray boring into his, “You tell me right now that the kiss we shared the other day meant nothing, you look me in the eye and swear that you can walk away from me as casually as you are trying to and I will leave you be.”

His response to that was to drain his glass and stand up to leave. She caught his hand and turned him to face her. His eyes would not meet hers but she saw him fight for composure and heard him swallow audibly. “I love you.” She pleaded with him, “And I know you love me too, so why are you doing this to me.” “Please!” he pleaded in return. “I don’t care what the townsfolk will say, and I don’t care what they will do so long as I know you love me and…” he cut her short with a look filled with so much meaning it literally stole her breath away.

“You don’t, but I do.” When she would have protested, he continued quickly. “With as much as I have made over the years I could very easily support us for the rest of our lives in a secluded mountain cabin anywhere in the country but…” “Then why can’t we? What is to stop us from doing just that tonight, right now?” she wanted to know.

Before he had a chance to answer she saw something primitive, dangerous flicker in his eyes. He pulled her towards and behind him and took a step forward. She had to grab on to the table and pillar for support and was turning around to give him a piece of her mind for the ungentlemanly handling of her when she had the unmistakable of fist slamming into palm. She came around and found Lesley holding Danny Wilde’s fist in his hand. “So you wan run off with this shitty negro, then do yer?” he spat at her.

Shocked that anyone had heard their conversation before they had made any decision, she quickly shook her head. “So this nigger is trying to kidnap you then.” He deduced an evil smile creasing his face. “No!” she said aghast and repeated when she saw that his gang had flunked him on either side, “No, we were just having a conversation about where would be best to live.” “I don’t want any trouble Danny, I was just on my way out.” Lesley told him. “Damn right yer are, headed straight fer the undertaker.”

The music stopped and the bar all turned to see what was going on. Daisey May was in shock; how had a simple conversation escalated into a gunfight in less than 10 seconds? Everybody knew Danny’s reputation- after all it was the main reason he was the most sought after coach protector in the Trench town. He was quick with his guns and if you believed the carriages he had been hired to protect which came under attack, vicious with his hands. The Wilde Bunch never let a bandit get away, even after they had escorted the party safely into a town, they would hunt down whoever had attacked them to quell their bloodlust.

It was a well known fact that the reason they always got their prey was because they were little better than the thugs they pursued having been a couple of them for a long time themselves. “Why don’t we take this outside then nigger?” Danny said walking out the door ahead of his gang. Daisey May grabbed Lesley’s hand as he started to walk outside. “Don’t do this.” She told him but the look I his eyes told her that there was just no way he could do that. “This is about honor my dear.” he told her “He has issued me with a direct and open challenge, if I do not answer it will taint my honor and what would I have then?”

“You would have me, and I would have you. Please!” she implored taking his face in her hands and plastering it with kisses. “I have just found you, I cannot bear the thought of losing you.” “You ask why we cannot just leave town.” He said turning from her, “It is because of you Daisey. You are a people person; you love the roar of the crowd when you perform and the legion of adoring fans when you are not. You like being the centre of attention, the one everyone wants to be around; the one they listen to and adore.”

“Lesley I…” “Don’t get me wrong, I do