Mine had come off in the tumble down the ravine.I walked back, finding their horses half a mile along, at the entrance to the ravine. They were better...horses than I figured but then again, men who rode outside the law couldn’t really afford a slow horse. I took them, stopping on the trail to remove my saddle and bridle from Blackie. It hurt me to see him layin’ there. He’d been a good hoss, carrying me all the way from Texas without complaint. They’d taken my rifle and emptied my saddlebags.. Returning home to Iowa. She shuddered, going home to Iowa would be like living in her own grave. Her home town was nice, even picturesque, assuming you didn't live there, but for the locals it was a trap, something that held you tight, stifled you, until you died. How many ofher seniors had she seen it happen to? Pretty girls in promdresses one year, pregnant wives the next. Then a lifetime ofshuffling around in threadbare dresses dragging screaming kidsaround; perpetually pregnant and in. More

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