Curtis rubbed his shoulder and groaned at the pain. His other hand grasped the reigns of his horse. Mabel leaned over and peered at Curtis’s rough hand as it massaged his shoulder. The two of them gently bobbed up and down as the horse trotted across the searing sands of the desert. Curtis groaned again.
“Think the pain’ll stop soon?” Mabel asked.
“Yeah, probably,” Curtis replied in a gravelly voice. He cleared his throat. “It only hurts when I touch it or move it too much. Jumpin’ up here don’t feel too good, either. At least my side don’t hurt anymore.”
Curtis lifted his tunic to try and see where Sly had shot him just four days before. Curtis thought about it for a second; it had only been four days since he arrived in Sunnyville, but so much had happened. Curtis hadn’t gotten much d
