Robert Parker - Brimstone

“Not good memories here,” Virgil said, and nodded at Laurel.

“No,” Allie said. “We should go someplace else.”

Virgil looked at me.

“Everett?” he said.

“Agree,” I said. “We should move on.”

“I’ll telegram Morrissey,” Virgil said. “Tell him we’re quitting.”

I nodded. We drank a little more whiskey, except for Laurel.

“Where?” Allie said.

“Where what?” Virgil said.

“Where are we going to go?” Allie said.

“Hadn’t thought about it,” Virgil said.

“I want to start over,” Allie said.

“Okay,” Virgil said.

“I want to go back to Appaloosa,” Allie said. “Close the circle. Begin again, see if we can do better… see if I can do better.”

“Everett?” Virgil said.

“Got no problem with Appaloosa,” I said. “Maybe even got work for a couple of upstanding shootists like us.”

Virgil nodded.

“Most places do,” Virgil said.

“Ain’t that fortunate,” I said.

“We got the money from Pike,” Virgil said. “We ain’t pressed.”

“Still gotta work,” I said.

“Yes,” Virgil said. “We do.”

Virgil looked at the girl.

“Laurel?” Virgil said.

Laurel nodded and stepped close to him and whispered. Then she sat back down on the couch next to Allie.

“Laurel would be happy to visit Appaloosa,” Virgil said.

“Allie been tellin’ her about it.”

“So, maybe it ain’t a sudden idea,” I said. “That Allie just thought up.”

Allie smiled faintly and said nothing.

Virgil said, “Maybe not.”

“So, it’s Appaloosa?” I said.

“It is,” Virgil said. “You want to ride along, Pony?”

Pony shook his head.

“Where are you going?” Allie said.

“Mother’s people,” Pony said. “Live Chiricahua for a while. Living white face too hard.”

Pony turned to Virgil.

“Jefe,” he said.

And he put out his hand. Despite the fact that Virgil never shook hands, Virgil shook it.

“Pony,” Virgil said.

Pony and I shook hands.

He nodded to Allie.

“Allie?” he said.

“We will miss you,” Allie said.

Pony looked at Laurel.

“Chiquita,” he said.

Laurel stood and took the derringer out of her coat pocket and handed it to Pony.

Pony shook his head.

“You keep,” he said. “Remember Pony Flores.”

She stared at him for a minute and then nodded and put it back in her pocket. Then she went to him and put her arms around him and hugged him for a long time.

Pony made no attempt to get loose. He stood quietly, patting her back between the shoulder blades. Then finally he took her arms gently and freed himself and guided her to the couch.

“Pony Flores come back someday, chiquita,” he said, bending to look in her eyes. “You see Pony again.”

She nodded.

Pony looked once more at Virgil. Virgil nodded. Pony nodded back. Then he turned and walked out of the office. We all sat silently, listening to the sound of Pony’s horse as he rode away.

THE STALLION WAS STILL THERE, a gray leopard Appaloosa, tending his mares on the flank of a hill outside Appaloosa. He’d been there when I’d come to Appaloosa, and I’d passed him the last time I rode out. Now returning, I paused at the top of the hill to watch him. Virgil and the women went ahead, trailing the pack mule. The stallion reared and snorted at the scent of the mule, though the mule was no threat to his harem. One of the mares drifted away from the herd, and the stallion, glancing at me every few steps, moved off to get her and drive her back. When he got her back to the herd, he left her and came around to put himself between me and the mares. The wandering mare went right off again, not in a hurry, just like she had a mind of her own and wanted to graze where she wanted to graze. The stallion stood, stiff-legged, ears forward, looking at her. He bugled once. Then he looked at me and went after her again. This time he nipped her as he drove her back. She tried to kick him, but he was an old hand at this, and he evaded the kick without effort. He drove her to my side of the herd this time and pressed her in among the other mares. Then he resumed his position between me and the mares, cropping the grass, raising his head every few crops to check on my position. The mare began to edge her way through the other mares, away from the stud. He raised his head and looked at her and bugled again and hurried around to the other side of the herd to block her. She stopped, still among the other mares, and put her head down and began to graze. Eyeing me all the time now, he reluctantly stayed on that side of the herd. Several of the mares appeared to be carrying foals. After they were born, there would be wolves to deal with. Being a stallion is high-pressure business. I decided not to add to the pressure by hanging around, and turned my gelding down the slope and followed Virgil and the women on into Appaloosa.