Six Bullets stood on end at the edge of the table. The cloth was spread out, my modified Smith & Wesson .45 Schofield in pieces on it. I tore a bit of fabric and wrapped it around the sharp metallic bristles of the scrubber. Shot of lubricant, dash of elbow grease. I ran it through in one fluid motion. It needed to be clean. Everything needed to be perfect. Next, i brushed everything off the hammer, dug grime out using a toothpick. I couldn't afford any mishaps. Not this time. I needed this to be perfect. No Room for error.
"Now you need to trust me as I have trusted you, Ak'is." His words suprised me. "The horses needed to drink, so I took them to a nearby stream while you slept." Raven had come back, with both horses looking well rested and ready for a long day's ride.
Of course, I thought to myself, I had to jump to the most cynical conclusion. What was it that was wrong with me to automatically assume the worst in everybody. Had my father's disappearance all those years ago killed my trust in man?
It had been nine long days since Red and I met. 3 days of riding, and not much talking. It wasn't that he didn't try, I'm just not much of a talker. I watched him as he cut and prepared meat of the deer we had just killed. Good thing too, because my stomach had started to growl something fierce.
I finally decided to break the silence by saying, "I still dont see why we couldn't just take the damn train"
"Because," he replied, "those gentlemen in the bowler hats and button down jackets were Pinkertons."