Page 80 of Texas Destiny
“When you do, bring him and yourself on up to the house. I’ll want all the men there for the wedding—for Amelia’s sake.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dallas prodded his horse into a gallop. This time next year, he’d be sharing that windmill and all the land surrounding it with his son.
An incredible freedom swept through Austin as he stood at the edge of the bluff and stared across the craggy rocks below to the far horizon. Here, his dream seemed attainable. Here, he could voice his heart’s desire aloud, and it didn’t sound foolish with only the wind to listen.
Someday, he’d find the courage to tell his brothers. Or maybe he’d just leave, and when he’d realized his dream, he’d return to share the glorious moment with them. He knew once he’d proven himself, they wouldn’t laugh, but until that moment of success, he feared their lack of faith or interest might destroy what he hoped to have.
One violin … created by his hands … that would make the sweetest music ever heard.
Rising in crescendo, soft as a spring breeze, strong as a winter storm, the gentle strains flowed through his heart, his mind, so clearly … so clearly and so loudly that he didn’t hear the scattering of rocks soon enough. Black Thunder snorted and pawed the ground as Austin spun around.
He was a dead man.
He balled his hand into a fist to keep it from reaching for his gun. He’d never drawn on a man … much less six.
“Howdy, boy.” His lips raised in a sneer, the bearded man leaned forward and crossed his arms over the saddle horn. “Nice horse you got there.”
“Ain’t worth nothin’. He ain’t saddle broke.”
The man laughed. “I can break him. Could break you if I wanted.”
Austin didn’t doubt that for a second as his gaze dropped to the man’s big beefy hands. He had a godawful feeling in the pit of his stomach that the man liked to draw out killing. “Look, mister, I don’t want no trouble.”
The man’s grin spread like an evil plague. “That’s good, boy, ’cuz I don’t neither.” He drew his gun from his holster and five other guns were quickly drawn.
Austin’s mouth went as dry as dust, his heart pounding so hard and fast that he could hear little else.
“Mead, get the horse.”
A man built like a bull climbed off his horse, lumbered over to Black Thunder, and grabbed the dangling reins. The horse jerked his head up and the man yanked hard, pulling the horse after him.
Without warning, the bearded man fired a bullet near Austin’s feet. Austin jumped back. The man laughed.
“Just keep goin’ back, boy.”
Austin held up his hands. “Mister, I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. If I go back—”
“I know, boy. You can holler all you want on your way down.”
He again fired at the ground, the bullet spitting up dirt between Austin’s boots. Austin scrambled back.
“The next one’s going to take your big toe with it, the one after that your knee.”
Austin heard the explosion, jumped back, and found himself surrounded by nothing but air and demented laughter.
Cowboys weren’t meant to walk. Aching and sore from his head to his toes, Austin dropped to his backside and jerked off his boots.
He’d gone over the edge of the cliff, grabbed a scraggly bush; and clung tenaciously to it, his toes searching for a hold on the side of the rocky gorge. He’d waited until he heard the riders galloping away before he’d started working his way up.
He’d been walking for hours, the sun beating down on him, the dry wind whipping around him, and the dust choking him. Standing, he drew his gun from his holster and fired it into the air, realizing too late that he might alert the horse thieves to the fact that he’d survived.
Angrily, he swiped at the tears streaming down his face. He should have taken a stand. He shouldn’t have allowed those men to run off with Houston’s best horse. He should have pulled his gun—he would have been killed for sure.
He should have been paying attention, not daydreaming. If Dallas and Houston discovered what had happened today, they would never trust him again, would see him as the boy they thought he was instead of the man he was becoming.
He’d been irresponsible and stupid. Dallas was always lecturing him on the dangers that abounded out here, where they were isolated from the law. He’d taught him how to use his gun. Austin just hadn’t had the guts to test that knowledge.
