Read Online Buck and the Widow Rancher (2006) by Carlton Youngblood - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Carlton Youngblood
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with great force. Holding the shoe with a pair of tongs, he returned the metal to the fire as its color cooled from a cherry-red to a rosy gray.
‘Morning.’ Buck had paused until the hammeing stopped and the smith waited for the shoe to heat up. ‘Do you have time this afternoon to check the shoes on my horse? I think the right front is wearing a little thin.’
The blacksmith looked up as Buck swung down. ‘Yeah, I can get to it soon as I replace the rim on that wagon tire there. Leave the nag tied to the fence and I’ll get to it.’
‘Well, I’d do that, but this old horse has a bad habit of biting anyone who gets too close. It’d probably be better if I hung around to make him mind his manners.’
‘Naw. Any horse tries to take a bite of me learns quickly how bad an idea that is. This hammer between his eyes’ll teach him who not to mess with.’
‘And then I’d have to teach you not to mess with my horse. That is if he let you get close enough to do him any harm.’
‘You’d teach me? Little man, the sun hasn’t come up on the day that’ll happen. Say, wait a minute. Ain’t you the fellow that shot that sheepherder? You hardcase cow nurses think you can do just anything you want, don’t you? Maybe it’s time for someone to teach you what’s what.’
‘Nope, all I want is to have the shoes on my horse taken care of.’ Buck watched as the man took the shoe out of the forge and dropped it sizzling into a bucket of water.
‘Mister, you are about to learn what happens when someone I like gets hurt. I’m gonna hurt you,’ he whispered menacingly, as he walked toward the big cowboy. Buck stepped back and drew his Colt.
‘I don’t think so. A bullet in the leg will put a helluva stop to your fixing the shoes on my horse.’
‘Are you going to shoot me too, killer?’ someone behindBuck asked. Looking over his shoulder he saw the young man who’d been with the farmer, Cooder, standing with a three-tined pitchfork in his hands. ‘Why don’t you just put that pistol away and stand up to Calvin? Let’s see how you do without a gun in your hand.’ He said, laughing and jabbing threateningly at the cowboy’s back.
Buck looked back at the blacksmith who stood with his arms crossed, smiling. Shaking his head, Buck walked his horse over and looped the reins over a fence rail. Removing his Stetson, he let it dangle by the chinstrap from the black’s saddle horn. Unbuckling his gunbelt he hung it with the hat.
‘You better hang on to that pitchfork, youngster. You might need it.’
‘Come and get it, back shooter,’ the smith snarled, his body in a crouch, his calloused hands curled into rough-looking fists, as he slowly moved closer to Buck.
CHAPTER 10
Calvin almost ended the battle with the first blow. Buck took the first one on his shoulder, being able to only just duck out of the way of the fist. Back pedaling, he tried to get his balance, but the man was on him and didn’t let the cowboy get set. Evading the blacksmith’s iron-hard fists as much as he could, Buck misjudged the attack and the second jolt was to his rib cage. Knocked flat on his back, he quickly rolled away from the big man. Laughing at him in the dust, Calvin stood, waiting for him to get up. Buck saw the smithy wasn’t even breathing hard.
As strong as Buck was, this man was a lot stronger. It had been a long time since he’d been in a stand-up fistfight and this wasn’t going his way. Taking as much time as he could, he slowly came to his feet.
‘You aren’t so much without your gun, are you, killer?’ someone behind Buck laughed.
Wincing at the pain in his chest, Buck raised his fists and began circling the big blacksmith. Jabbing with a quick left, he saw that for all his size, Calvin was slow, a big, slow tree of a man. Another jab clipped his whiskery chin, brought the smith’s roundhouse left fist around. Buck ducked and came up inside, landing a solid blow square on the man’s chin. Shaking his
‘Morning.’ Buck had paused until the hammeing stopped and the smith waited for the shoe to heat up. ‘Do you have time this afternoon to check the shoes on my horse? I think the right front is wearing a little thin.’
The blacksmith looked up as Buck swung down. ‘Yeah, I can get to it soon as I replace the rim on that wagon tire there. Leave the nag tied to the fence and I’ll get to it.’
‘Well, I’d do that, but this old horse has a bad habit of biting anyone who gets too close. It’d probably be better if I hung around to make him mind his manners.’
‘Naw. Any horse tries to take a bite of me learns quickly how bad an idea that is. This hammer between his eyes’ll teach him who not to mess with.’
‘And then I’d have to teach you not to mess with my horse. That is if he let you get close enough to do him any harm.’
‘You’d teach me? Little man, the sun hasn’t come up on the day that’ll happen. Say, wait a minute. Ain’t you the fellow that shot that sheepherder? You hardcase cow nurses think you can do just anything you want, don’t you? Maybe it’s time for someone to teach you what’s what.’
‘Nope, all I want is to have the shoes on my horse taken care of.’ Buck watched as the man took the shoe out of the forge and dropped it sizzling into a bucket of water.
‘Mister, you are about to learn what happens when someone I like gets hurt. I’m gonna hurt you,’ he whispered menacingly, as he walked toward the big cowboy. Buck stepped back and drew his Colt.
‘I don’t think so. A bullet in the leg will put a helluva stop to your fixing the shoes on my horse.’
‘Are you going to shoot me too, killer?’ someone behindBuck asked. Looking over his shoulder he saw the young man who’d been with the farmer, Cooder, standing with a three-tined pitchfork in his hands. ‘Why don’t you just put that pistol away and stand up to Calvin? Let’s see how you do without a gun in your hand.’ He said, laughing and jabbing threateningly at the cowboy’s back.
Buck looked back at the blacksmith who stood with his arms crossed, smiling. Shaking his head, Buck walked his horse over and looped the reins over a fence rail. Removing his Stetson, he let it dangle by the chinstrap from the black’s saddle horn. Unbuckling his gunbelt he hung it with the hat.
‘You better hang on to that pitchfork, youngster. You might need it.’
‘Come and get it, back shooter,’ the smith snarled, his body in a crouch, his calloused hands curled into rough-looking fists, as he slowly moved closer to Buck.
CHAPTER 10
Calvin almost ended the battle with the first blow. Buck took the first one on his shoulder, being able to only just duck out of the way of the fist. Back pedaling, he tried to get his balance, but the man was on him and didn’t let the cowboy get set. Evading the blacksmith’s iron-hard fists as much as he could, Buck misjudged the attack and the second jolt was to his rib cage. Knocked flat on his back, he quickly rolled away from the big man. Laughing at him in the dust, Calvin stood, waiting for him to get up. Buck saw the smithy wasn’t even breathing hard.
As strong as Buck was, this man was a lot stronger. It had been a long time since he’d been in a stand-up fistfight and this wasn’t going his way. Taking as much time as he could, he slowly came to his feet.
‘You aren’t so much without your gun, are you, killer?’ someone behind Buck laughed.
Wincing at the pain in his chest, Buck raised his fists and began circling the big blacksmith. Jabbing with a quick left, he saw that for all his size, Calvin was slow, a big, slow tree of a man. Another jab clipped his whiskery chin, brought the smith’s roundhouse left fist around. Buck ducked and came up inside, landing a solid blow square on the man’s chin. Shaking his
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