in the world…”
He chattered about the carelessness of young people and how heading out West was a bad idea, and how his lard might be able to be put into another container. And while he sipped whiskey from a broken jug, spitting the occasional piece of ceramic out before swallowing it, I worked to clear his wagon. It was the least I could do. I wouldn’t be paying for any of the damage, after all.
I learned the old man’s name was Bill and he was five foot tall, or claimed to be, though I figured he was lying. His legs were bow-legged enough to take off a couple inches, at least. All guys added at least a few inches to their height when they told people about it. They’d take ten pounds off their actual weight, too. Suck in their stomachs. Flex their pecs. These were facts.
As he rambled on, I asked him about the trading post. I gleaned that it was a place along the trail where those traveling west could seek shelter and be safe. From what, I wasn't sure, but safe was always a good thing. I liked safe.
He blathered on about how I’d almost managed to make his entire trip worthless. I learned he was planning to sell the goods he brought to locals and maybe even a store. He wasn’t sure if the store was complete yet, but a couple had started building the structure before he left the post the last time he was through these parts. I wondered if Eve was there, and if she had found Enoch.
I prayed she didn’t land as hard as I did. Truthfully, I was scared out of my mind for her. I wasn't sure how many more times she could land before her body crumbled. Even though she tried to hide it, she became more brittle with every fall. Back in seventeen-seventy-seven, she approached me and wanted to jump immediately, just to get out of there as fast as she could. That was before she was charmed by Enoch. I hoped I reached her before he did the same this time and could convince her to jump again fast. We were in uncharted territory here. I didn't know a lot about when the frontier was settled, but I knew enough. If we stayed here too long, trouble would find us.
It had in every other time, but here, trouble meant anything from a stagecoach robber to a gambler, a shootout or a duel. Hell, it could mean a rattlesnake bite.
Or being shot by a five-foot tall old man with killer facial hair.
Trouble also came in the forms of three Nephilim, two crazier than the third, but all of whom were dangerous. Enoch had been a nice enough guy so far, but Eve’s crush on him had to take a back burner. We had to prioritize getting home – once and for all.
Most of the crates were trashed, but they held textiles and small burlap allotments of wheat flour and sugar, so Bill hadn’t lost everything after all. The squishy, thick substance was lard. He scooped what he could into an empty jug I hadn’t managed to shatter while I folded the wagon’s canvas into the smallest square I could.
“Why are you headin’ this way?” Bill asked as he led a horse over from a nearby tree. The sun was setting and light was fading fast, but Bill had been doing this a long time. I bet he could hitch up a horse blindfolded. His weathered hands deftly completed the task before he turned to face me, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for my answer.
“I’m looking for work.”
“What sort of work?”
“Oh, just about anything’ll do,” I answered vaguely.
“So, you’re sayin’ you ain’t got money to pay for the whiskey you cost me.”
“No, but…”
Bill was fast with guns. Faster than I could blink, a pistol was pointed at my face. “Then this is where we part ways, mister.”
Does he mean go on my own way, or does he mean he’s going to kill me and continue rolling toward the trading post?
I didn’t give him time to shoot. I ran like hell.
He hollered after me, but I didn’t pay any attention to what he said. All I knew was that Bill didn’t like the fact I’d landed in his stuff – not that I could blame him – and Bill liked guns. I wasn’t sure if he would think twice about firing one at me and didn’t want