CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
“There’s Indians,” said Reece, his hand creeping towards his gun. “They were attacking Henry and that young kid when I got here. We managed to drive ‘em off but they’ll be back, in numbers.”
Destry barked a scoffing laugh, “Jeez, Reecey, you just don’t get it do you? There’s always been Indians, even when we all thought they were safe in their reservation. Arapaho mostly. Blood-thirsty, determined. This was their land.” Suddenly, as if all of the strength drained from him in an instant, he slumped down on the ground, the knife dropping from numbed fingers. He began to weep. Gut-wrenching, uncontrollable sobs consumed him. Reece took his chance and stepped closer. He kicked the knife out of reach and moved back, drawing his gun smoothly and easily.
“What the hell has h
