Western Trails
Western Trails
Badboy
Gary Bowen
$3.95
Western Trails
Badboy
Gary Bowen
$3.95
Foreword
The man sat and turned the piercing blue eyes on him. Looking back, Rudy saw a weathered, short-jawed, strong-chinned face. At the temples, light hair showed beneath the hat. The cowboy held out his hand and said, “I’m Will,” and Rudy responded with his own name. As they shook hands, Will observed, “Y’ know horses.”
“I like to ride them, I grew up around them. I don’t claim to know everything about them. But I know enough to know that horses and boats and lightning do not interact, as implied in the song.”
“Fancy talker, too.”
“Sorry. It’s the crowd I hang out with. Not trying to prove anything.” Rudy shrugged.
The other waved away the apology. “I figgered I’d see what y’r doin’ after y’ finish playin’.”
An electric thrill shot through Rudy. Shit, he thought. Just as up front as he looks. Now what do I want to do about it? It was a real question; up close, Will kind of snarled Rudy’s circuits, and Rudy found himself considering the question more seriously than he ever had before. “Hadn’t decided. What’d you have in mind?”
“Thought y’d have that figgered out,” the cowboy observed.
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