Giddy with the success of his first real heist, Maverick
rode hard to the East, out of town, laughing in the headwinds. The thought of
fat old Sheriff Dodd even getting onto his horse quickly was funny enough, but
chasing Maverick down on that nag of his? The Sheriff knew it was impossible.
Sheriff Dodd would only gallop out of town for show.
Probably have a pint in his saddlebag for when he got to
Indian Rock.
Just sit and watch.
Maverick was molded to the saddle he had ridden smooth since
he was a kid, strapped onto the back of his partner in everything he did, the fastest stud in seven counties.
They were happy to ride all night, down into the moist thick
of trees in the valley. By early morning, when the sun was starting to ignite
the candle peaks of each jagged mountain top in front of them, one by one, they
knew the only way to go from there was up…
Into the light and fire.
Mad with lust for anything that wasn’t behind them, they were excited to run, eager to take what they wanted of everything that lay ahead...knowing that everything, their wildest dreams, lay ahead.
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