David Robbins - Yellowstone Run

“No, but you know Hickok.”

Achilles grinned. “Yeah. I’m beginning to think I do.”

“You can take the rest of the day off and report to Samson first thing in the morning,” Blade directed.

“Will do.”

“If you think you need more time to yourself, just let me know.”

“I’d only spend it moping,” Achilles said. “At least I can keep busy with my new duties.”

“I’ll tell Samson to be expecting you at his cabin at daybreak,” Blade said, and started to leave.

“Blade?”

The giant stopped. “Yeah?”

“Have you ever lost a woman you cared for deeply?”

“No, thank the Spirit. And I pray it doesn’t happen. If I ever lose Jenny, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I can imagine. I hope you never do.”

“Thanks,” Blade replied. “Did you know that Hickok lost a woman very dear to him about six years ago?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Her name was Joan and she served as a Warrior.”

“Was she killed in the line of duly?”

“Yep.”

“How did Hickok take it?”

“As I recall, he cried his brains out, then crawled inside a shell for about a month. When he finally rejoined the human race, he was a much harder man than before,” Blade related. “His marriage to Sherry was the best thing that ever happened to him. He’s mellowed out since.”

“Hickok cried? I thought he always has his emotions under control.”

“Some grief is too deep for words and impossible to control.”

“That reminds me,” Achilles stated. “I’m coming with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I want to look up Plato. Maybe some of his wisdom will rub off on me.”

“The best teacher of wisdom is experience.”

“There you go again. You sound like a blasted philosopher.”

“And you’re sounding like Hickok.”

“I am?” Achilles replied, and his forehead creased. “Is that an insult or a compliment?”