Prodigal Father
- 4 years ago
- 18
- 0
Two years later
The heatwave shimmered, disguising the dust cloud of the approaching seven riders. They were dressed identically. Canvas dusters and black cavalry slouch hats. When they had gotten to about 100 yards from the farmstead, they slowed their horses to a walk.
The farm was the usual arraignment, a house probably three rooms. An outhouse for the obvious reasons. A root cellar and a barn. The barn was easily the largest and most important structure on the farm. Two stories and easily twice the footprint of the house. Barns were always the most important structure on any farm. It sheltered the equipment, livestock and plantings. Without which, a farm would fail.
The riders approached at a walk until they reached what passed for a picket fence in the front yard. They halted there, and their leader called out. “Simpson, Yo the house. We need to talk to you, Simpson.”
A middle-aged man stepped from the front door of the farmhouse. He had that dusty dry look that all farmers had. His skin looked like dry leather. His eyes had a permanent squint from years of staring into the sun while behind a plow. His clothes, while clean, were faded and patched to the point that their original color or even material was unknown.
He carried an old but clean and well-oiled shotgun that was pointed over the newcomer’s heads. “What do you want? I told you the last time, I’m not selling, and I won’t be run off. This is my land, and I aim to keep it.”
“Now Simpson, there ain’t no need to get rambunctious. No need for guns. We’re just checking to see if you are willing to accept the Colonel’s offer. It’s a fair offer. I mean after all, this hardscrabble scratch homestead, isn’t worth a third what the man offered you.”
“I don’t care. This is my land, and I aim to keep it, period.”
“Well, that’s ok too, Simpson. But the thing is being out here in the middle of nowhere with nothing but that scattergun for protection. You’re a prime target for bandits and hostile Indians. Without somebody to take care of you. You might just get massacred before help could arrive.”
The leader leaned forward in his saddle. “Now, if you were to pay us a small sum of money, we would make sure that you were left alone.”
From the inside of the cabin, a voice called out. “I do believe Mr. Simpson has rejected your offer.”
A man stepped out of the darkness of the cabin. He was tall and carried an air of command about him. His clothes were neat, clean, and pressed. He was wearing khaki pants, a canvas duster, and a tan slouch hat. There was a glint of silver at the front of the hat.
The leader of the riders said, “I don’t remember anybody asking your opinion, pardner. In fact, it could be downright dangerous, sticking your nose into things that don’t concern you. We work for the Colonel, and I know that he would be upset with anybody getting in his way. I’ll bet he’ll give me a raise, if I blow your damn fool head off right here and now”
Another voice from inside the cabin spoke up. “That wouldn’t be a smart move bud.” the curtain covering the front window drew aside. “I’d hate to break Mrs. Simpson’s front window. Glass costing what it does.” behind the glass, a double-barreled shotgun could be seen aimed at the riders.
A loud whistle came from the barn. The raiders turned as a third person dressed like the first stepped out, followed by another who moved off to the side. Both were carrying carbines. A third could be seen in the hayloft door.
Then the sound of hoofs brought their attention back to the cabin. 2 riders on either side came into view. They were joined by two more riders from behind the barn. All armed with carbines.
At this point, the man next to Mr. Simpson on the porch said. “Gentleman, I would like to take a moment before we continue to introduce myself. I am Lt. James Inkom. I am a member of the Regiment and work for Colonel Anderson.”
He paused for a moment to allow that information to sink in. “So, if you would please, very carefully and mindful of the feelings of allllll those guns pointed at you, carefully drop your rifles to the ground, then undo your pistol belts and drop them to the ground also.”
After this was completed, “Very good gentlemen. Now, as a gesture of good faith, and as a true effort at redemption for your sins, add any hideaways. derringers, pocket guns or knives. Oh, hell, you know what I mean. Let’s see all of your hideouts, boys. It’ll go a long way to regaining my trust.”
A few more firearms joined the piles on the ground. Mostly knives were dropped.
“Sergeant?”
The voice inside the cabin spoke up, “Sir?”
“Let’s get these gentlemen searched. Not that I don’t trust them. Strip em, secure em, mount em backwards and have a detail of 4 herd them to town. We’ll let the Sheriff deal with them.”
Once the situation at the homestead had returned to normal, Lt. Inkom spoke to Mr. Simpson. “Alex, you did the right thing, letting us know about this. I just wish some of your neighbors would trust us enough to ask for our help.”
“Youngster, once word of this gets out, I’ll bet you have a helluva lot more cooperation and trust. That is if I have anything to say about it.”
“No worries, Alex, you don’t need to sell us. Just let folks know that we are not the bad guys. That having been said, how’s your wife doing? she’s getting pretty close to her time, isn’t she?”
The look of worry came back to Simpson’s face. “Yeah, any time now. I’m half worried that all this to-do with the outlaws, might speed things up.”
“Tell you what Alex, we’ve got some good Doctors available. How about I send one out? Just to make sure.”
“Well, sir, I wouldn’t have a problem, but my wife Marie, she’s kinda shy, you know. Doesn’t like men poking around down there. So, I don’t think she’d like it very much. But hey, thanks for the thought. I’m sure everything’ll be alright.”
“Alex, I think I have the perfect solution. We’ve got a female Doctor, one of the best available. And a couple of midwives also. I can have them in the area in a day or two. The Doctor can check your wife out, and if needed, we’ll have a midwife stick around to help out when the time comes.”
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LesbianFirst, details I guess. My name...well...let's call me Kincaid. I'm your typical nerdy guy. I'm about 5'10" and I've always been a big guy. It runs in my family. See, everyone I'm related to is built like a biker. We're all chunky, but under that bit'o'flab is pure muscle. The guy who grabbed my mother's arm on Black Friday wasn't expecting that. I'm getting off track already, I apologize... Right, details. I have brown hair and grey eyes. My lookers are probably my best...
I called Steven from the car on the way to his house. "Hello?" "Hey you. How goes dinner?" "Hi beautiful! It's going. I never asked; anything other than mushrooms you're allergic to?" "Nope. Listen, is there anything you want I should bring?" "Nah, I think I've got everything I need. Well, except you, of course." "You don't need me, Steven." "Well, maybe not technically, but I want you really bad. Doesn't that count?" I blushed, and tried to change the topic....
Rob was dead! Gone after 20 years of marriage! GONE!! And the nagging empty loneliness was starting to tell on his stunning mature widow, Dolly. Rob and Dolly had been through and seen it all in their long union. A May-December marriage that started out like a torrid sexual inferno had subsided into a friendly sterile cohabitation, only to be thunderously resuscitated when Dolly had been repeatedly raped by escaped convicted rapist, Lyle Buhr. Buhr’s monster cock had stretched Dolly’s...
Wednesday evening the Higgins family sat around the dining room table. Bex moved her hands with animation as she told a story about computer class. She’d pause, every once in a while, to smile at Sam or give him a wink. Her knowing, blue-eyes twinkled. Her smile radiated throughout the room. Sam smiled back. The rock had outdone itself. He hadn’t thought his relationship with Bex would ever be this good. Joyce narrowed her eyes and looked from one of her children to the other. When there was...