As Sheriff John Dance rode down to the river, Miguel, the Stagecoach agent, came up beside him. Dance gave him a skeptical look, and didn’t have time to get to the question before Miguel said, “I have responsibilities…” Fair enough thought Dance. He cast an eye over Miguel’s horse and rig. It was packed light and well, and Miguel sat his horse easy. He looked like he knew what doing. Probably more than Dance did. Dance was no frontier hand or Indian fighter by nature. But the misadventures of his youth had taught him to travel fast and leave as little trace as possible.
Huh. I somehow accidentally skipped a few chapters ahead, so I’m backtracking now. How the hell did I do that?
Anyway. “I been known to eat vegetables from time to time, but we all know what I prefer.” Great line.
Another hair raising chapter. Yikes! That was intense. Looking forward to more. Keep up the great work.
The stakes are only going higher? Who do you think is going to die? Because not everybody is making out of this alive.
Yes! Makes me want to read it even more.