Sixes Wild: Manifest Destiny (14 page)

I’m out for answers, not blood.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sheriff and I have ourselves a good hour of not speaking, with my head swimming most of that time. My whole body feels weak and numb; I swear it’s like my spirit’s drifted halfway out of it. Right unsettling.

“Six?”

I don’t look down at him right away, or even open my eyes, instead listening for any other movement. We should be safe here ‘til nightfall. Hard to believe, but we were only in the mine about an hour. By and by, I turn to look at the sheriff. The light blinds me for a spell, but I just keep looking where he ought to be. “Yeah?”

He looks like hell. Blake pants, his narrow tongue waggling just over his teeth. “What’d that bunny say to you back there? The one who got you so—”

I wince at the tenderness of my ears and of the subject. “…Jasper.”

He rubs his cheeks where the gag was tied. Looks up at me with questioning regard. “That a name?”

“Yes.” I tense, checking my guns. My fingers fumble, scarcely able to spin the cylinders. “It’s my father’s.”

He stares, startled for a moment. “How’s some crazy old bunny in a mine know your father’s name?”

“Don’t know.” I consider helping Blake down a steeper part of the slope with my boot for all his damn questions. I chance a peek down over the edge of the lookout. Night’s coming fast. We’re probably safe as we’re gonna get. I look back at him and shrug. “I’ve never felt the need to tell anybody about him ‘til this moment.”

He meets my eyes and smiles, rising. “Could be the fact I took a blow to the head today, but I think that’s an awful nice thing you just said.”

My ears feel hot. I want to clutch him close and never let go. I want to strip his britches off and take him in a womanly fashion. I don’t do either of these things. I pull my hat down a little tighter and set to walking, glad it’s dark.

It’s a long ways, but we’ve had an hour’s sit-down to cool off. We make good time back to White Rock township.

We attract a few looks walking back into town, roughed up as we are. At least he isn’t bleeding all over the place this time. We make our way to the City Office.

Once there, Sheriff Blake staggers through the door. “Harding!”

His bloodhound deputy pokes his head around from the office, jowls swinging just a little. “You’re back.” His face is so sad, but his tail is wagging up a breeze. He sniffs at me. “Why do you smell like dry mold?”

I glance down at the stains the hare left me.

The bat waves him back. “Never mind that. Saddle up the ponies and assemble a posse.”

Confusion enters the deputy’s face. He looks to me. I slink back against the wall, eyes down, hoping he won’t recognize me. Getting no answers from me, he turns back to his boss. “A posse? Blake, it’s near on ten at night.”

With one hind paw, the bat pulls a scattergun from the rack by his room and cocks it. “Posse comitatus, Deputy.”

“There’s no need to use French with me.” He puts on his hat. “I’m goin’.” He takes a lantern off a nail on the wall, gives me a nod, and leaves.

Through the window, I watch him go, then saunter up to the sheriff. I tap the front sight of the gun he’s holding. “How’d you figure you’re gonna fire that with one foot?”

“Don’t you go assuming you have me nailed down just yet.” He spins it around into his paw, then holds it level, about belly high. Well, chest high on most folk besides me. He looks like he might even be able to fire it.

After a moment of hesitating, I put a paw on his shoulder. He looks up at me. “Who all is that bloodhound gonna rustle up? Ah’d hate to be the only one at this party.”

He lowers the scattergun. “You’re coming?”

I lift an ear, smiling down at him. “Ain’t I?”

“You’re game as a banty rooster.” His voice gets low. “I’ve never met a woman like you.”

My tail bobs. “The most of folk’d say you still haven’t.” I chuckle.

He interrupts me with a kiss. My mind reels so hard it’s a wonder my ears don’t stand straight out. My guns tug me forward, into his waiting wings. His fancy lil’ tongue starts doing flips around my mouth.

The earth shakes. I don’t mean that in some mushy dime novel nonsense way, though that was my first thought, I’m ashamed to admit. The ground shakes under us. We stop kissing. Both of us have our ears up.

He’s all business. “You feel that?”

So am I. “Yeah.”

“Earthquake?”

“Never heard a’ one happenin’ in these parts.”

“Me neither.”

We make our way to the porch. All down the block, people are standing in the street, yammering and looking up.

The sheriff’s mare is whinnying and tossing her head, fully saddled. Blake clears his throat and calls to one of the gawkers. “You! What is goin’ on out here?”

“Hell if anybody knows, Sheriff!” The deep-voiced mastiff looks around, a touch panicked. “There’s talk Hayes’s mine just blew sky high!”

* * * * *

People clamor for a town meeting. Following Blake there, I walk in as Harding arrives with the halfways-collected posse, though now I doubt we’ll be heading up to the mine. Most I don’t recognize, though at the tail end I see a pair of red foxes. The doc and his wife, walking close together. The foxes give me little smiles, concerned, but recognizing me. I slip in behind them. The lawbat brushes past me all soft and snakes through the crowd to the front of the hall.

Hayes’ eyes go wide when he sees him, but he sweeps a paw over his ears and puts on a face. The lion has cleaned up fine, mane gleaming like a fire. The metal of my guns runs cold, even through the fur of my fingertips. I could put a bullet between his eyes from here. Could. Won’t. But ought to.

I hang around at the back, making a real task of sorting through the bullets in my gunbelt. I keep my head down ‘til I can scarcely see over the foxes ears. Back to the wall, just a few steps from the door; it’s a good spot. My hind paw thumps as I fight to steel my nerves.

The town council sits along a table at the front of the room. Blake stands at one end, badge glinting in the lantern light. The room buzzes with talk. Not much light; everybody seems to blend together, all species and sorts forming a sitting mob. Seems like half the town’s in attendance. Makes sense I guess; good chunk of the mountain just blew up. The sour scent of fear hangs thick in here.

The mayor, an older calico Blake finds a trifle mild for the post, raps his little wooden hammer on the table a few times. “Quiet down, quiet down. I’m calling this meeting to order. The secretary is now taking notes. Clearly, the pressing issue is the explosion that occurred tonight up on Old Camp Mountain, so we’ll get down to business. I’ve been told that the mine’s owner, Tanner Hayes, would like to speak. Mister Hayes?”

The lion stands up, brushing down his fine white shirt. “Roughly an hour ago, my newly acquired mine was dynamited… intentionally and maliciously.” He waits while everyone takes this in, eyes closed and seeming all sad. “While this is a blow to the community, we can at least be grateful that no one was in the mine at the time. And while there will be a serious delay and loss of revenue to me personally, mine operations will continue. To this end, I’ll be hiring extra workers from town here to help with the cleanup.”

More than a few hoots of approval rise up from the crowd. Everybody knows Hayes pays well.

I look to Blake. His muzzle is steady, but those blown eyes flick to me. I see a flicker of concern.

The mayor pushes up his glasses. “Mister Hayes, do you have any idea who might have sabotaged your mine?”

“Well, nothing is set in stone just yet. My men did see a suspicious character nosing around the site just before it was destroyed.” He waves a thick paw through the air like some kind of actor. “A rabbit by the name of Jasper Haus.”

My guts turn to ice. All these years not hearing my father’s name, now twice in the same day. From two different people. This just ain’t possible. Only thing I can figure is that they talked. But Daddy died a hundred miles from that mine, probably never even set a paw in it. Then it hits me like a hoof to the head.

They think I’m my father. 

My guns hum under my palms.

I edge to the door. My breath sounds like thunder; my fur tingles like close lightning. I feel eyes on me, but don’t dare check.

“I am personally offering a reward of one hundred-fifty dollars for his capture.” A rush of chatter from the townsfolk. Hayes waits for a little while, soaking up the reaction, before he raises those heavy paws again. The place quiets down. “This reward is forfeit if the rabbit is killed. I’m out for answers, not blood.”

The mayor talks over the newest rumble of chatter. “Your mercy is commendable, Mister Hayes. The sheriff’ll be, of course, ready to assist you in the location and capture of this culprit. Now as for how soon the mine can be back in operation…”

I slip out. I taste bitterness, right on the edge of puking, but swallow it back down. Night’s chill seeps into my fur like icy water. It’s like I’m climbing out of Skull Creek all over again: cold, alone, and wound so tight my innards feel twisted. I’ve got to hit the hills again. Put some miles between me and this town. I’ve done it before. Plenty of places I intend never to go back to. But Blake… I ain’t sure just what Blake is to me, but damned if some fat lion’s gonna take away the one tie I got.

Damn that lawbat. Life was simpler when I was tied to nothing but winds and other folks’ money.

I get the eerie feeling that I’m being tailed. I don’t look back or speed up, just fondle my guns.

I’ve got to let the lawbat know what kind of gone I’m getting. I pass the City Office. I feel a flush of warmth against the cold, remembering my night there. Reasonable thing to do would be to hit up the public stables downtown and skedaddle. My paws take me toward the office. Guess I’m not the reasonable type.

I pass Blake’s bay pony, which gives a low nicker at my passing, stirring at her post. Guess she won’t be hitting the trail tonight, leastwise not with Blake.

I give some thought to writing a note, though pretty words were never a suit I ran strong in. I stop for a moment, thinking on how stupid I am. Damn it all, why the hell’d I have to go falling for him? Muddles my brain worse ‘an Hayes’ mine ever could.

My heart beats a mile a minute and I put a paw over it. I feel something metal. My pin. I take a breath. I’m not swimming in other ideas at the moment, nor in time. It’ll have to do. I undo the clip on the back, holding it in my paw a moment. There are all kinds of reasons I should leave something else, but this ain’t the moment to argue with my ghosts.

I climb the stairs. Ought to be funny to me that I am sneaking into a place to leave something, rather than take it, but I ain’t laughing. Pulling my hat low, I head through the front door. Now, I just have to stash this in Blake’s room and find—

Deputy Harding.

My heart about leaps out my mouth. Son of a bitch’s lucky my guns stuck fast in their holsters, else I’d of been halfway through emptying my chambers into his person. Having a bounty on my head’s made me a mite jumpy.

Standing in the dim lantern light of the office, he tips his hat to me. “Evening, Six.”

“What in blue blazes are you doin’ here?”

“Waitin’ on you.” He manages a smile under all those jowls, all peaceable and pleased.

The old dog’s sniffing out the future now? I step inside the office so as not to be caught flat-footed by passersby. “Bloodhound, I don’t got a mountain a time to jaw with ya, so listen close. Sheriff an’ I… I ain’t keen to leave on account a’…”

“I know… I’ll tell him.”

My untrusting nature causes me to pause at this and give him a look-over. Something deep in those puppy-dog eyes of his lets me believe him. I hand him the pin. “Give him this.”

He nods. “Life ain’t about what we got, but what we got to come back to.” He pats my shoulder and I feel a queer tingle under his paw. “Ride east.”

I swallow and turn around, steeling myself for whatever waits outside that door. After a breath, I marshal my wits and will, taking that first step—

“Oh, and Six?”

I do a bunny-freeze in the Arizona night.