Winding Creek

"Twitch and you'll follow him to hell Bob."

The end of the bar cleared of the other men sooner that the smoke did. Jist Bob stood there, hands flat on the bar, not looking at Luke. The young man rose slowly, the end of the Colt not following his eyes as he once more searched the room.

"Real slow now Bob, you drop that gun belt."

Luke let the air settle back inta most of the onlooker's lungs.

"You came to Winding Creek near five years ago. You had nothing but a broke down horse and everything you owned tied behind you. J.D. fed you, gave you a place to sleep and then a job. You left him flat when things got bad Bob."

Luke lowered his gun.

"You'll leave Winding Creek the same way as you came. Keep the horse that was earned. Nothing else travels with you. If I see you after I leave this shit hole, I'll kill you clean. Now git."

The once celebratin' cowboy bent to retrieve his gun belt. The Walker Colt spoke again, the floor at the man's feet exploding in a geyser of wood splinters.

"Git."

Jist Bob backed out, the sound of his horse tellin' those that remained he was gone. Luke holstered his pistol.

"That sorry excuse for a man had five months to right the wrongs' he did to J.D., and more importantly, Miss Tiffany. As you can see, I don't have J.D.s patience fer such nonsense".

Luke enjoyed a fine dinner of Miss Debra's fried chicken, mashed potatoes and fresh bread when he returned to his home. A cherry pie was cooling as he finished his fifth piece of the near perfect bird. Although well past sunset, they enjoyed Lukes's tales of the big city as they sat on the porch that held the most of Lukes favored memories. Luke was introduced to John, Tiffany's seven-month-old son when he woke demandin' to be fed. The sun was comin' up when J.D. was led to his chair on the porch. There were no smile, jist a twinkling in the old man's eyes as he stared at Luke. And Linda? She was still fussing over Luke when the first of the towns folk and neighbors showed...