Chapter 14

I’d done my best to avoid, well, anyone during our time as part of the wagon train. Partially because I was so focused on my cultivation effort, and partially because well, I just didn’t want to get to know anyone. The less you interacted with people, the less likely you were to be remembered. And in my line of work, and through my life, it was always best to ensure you were able to disappear as easy as possible.

Because of this fact, most of the faces I passed while I trotted atop Baron towards the front of the caravan, were strangers to me. Most looked bored as they leaned against their wagons or took the break to feed and water their horses. Being that we were three days into a ten day trip, it had reached the point where everyone seemed to be out of the excitement portion of the trip, and moving steadily into the monotony that was travelling via means other than rail.

Even still, a few looked our way, and if their gaze didn’t linger on me, my four pistols, and my rifle that sat patiently in its scabbard on Baron’s side, their gazes lingered on Emma. Not that she had any weapons of note on her. They stared at her… her face, her hair… they stared more than I found I cared to notice. If she did though, she didn’t seem to let it bother her. Instead, she kept a smile on her face, her eyes looking forward, expectantly. If I had to guess, her mind was working a mile a minute on how she planned to deal with Mr. Grayson.

Not needing to stop at every wagon and group, we made good time heading to the lead carriages. Before we even reached them, the smell told us we were drawing near. Transporting three wagon’s worth of bison hides and tongues, well, you could only hide the smell so much. My nose wrinkled in disgust at the smell, and I noticed the hunters raising their bandannas up round their noses and mouths. If I had to guess, they didn’t often drop them down, if they didn’t need to.

As we drew even closer, the gathering ahead of the lead wagons told us more than a few of the other members of the wagon train intended to take Mr. Grayson up on his offer. Though my eyes quickly told me the gunman who’d joined the party of hunters had less chance of taking down the massive beasts than they likely knew. Hell, only half of them actually even had rifles. After all, most folk guarding wagons usually used shotguns or pistols. Neither of which was all that ideal when trying to take down something as large and sturdy as a bison.

“Ah,” our approach was noticed by the one and only, Mr. Grayson. “To what do I owe this pleasure.” He was all smiles as he rode his own horse towards us. The man couldn’t look more pompous, as he practically swaggered on the back of his horse towards us. He flashed a smile at Emma, his teeth tobacco stained, the only one of his hunting party not wearing a bandanna. He didn’t even look my way.

“Mr. Grayson,” Emma said, pulling her horse up short. I followed her lead, stopping easily beside her before Mr. Grayson got too close to us. Doing so forced him to come to us the rest of the way. “I was told it was your decision to waste away some of our valuable travel time to go hunting.” She glanced past the approaching man, and eyed the gathering behind him. “And it seems you’ve roped in quite a few of the others.”

“Well, I won’t argue with you on the first part.” Mr. Grayson finished nearing us, pulling his own horse up roughly a few feet from Emma’s. He nodded towards his two hunters, the messengers, and they wordlessly moved past him and joined the others. “Time is money,” Mr. Grayson was all smiles, “and I can assure you, the time we’re spending on this hunt will be worth far more than the extra say, day at most, that it will add to our travel time.”

“I see.” Emma smiled at him. “And did you simply decide to make the decision first, and ask for forgiveness later? Or are you simply used to doing whatever you feel like, and not stopping to consider the lives and schedules of others?”

Mr. Grayson opened his mouth to speak, but Emma held up a hand, cutting him off.

“What would happen if we had perishable goods? Or perhaps, important meetings we couldn’t risk missing? Not to mention, stopping any wagon train of our size, without circling up, is simply asking for trouble, don’t you think? You would put everyone at risk, and disregard everyone else’s goods and planning, for a hunt that,” she looked at his three, full, wagons, “you don’t even have the space to properly prosper from?”

Mr. Grayson’s smile flinched for a moment, before it returned to his face. What he couldn’t hide though, was the fire that blazed in his eyes. I could tell he did not appreciate how Emma was talking to him.

“Luckily for me,” Mr. Grayson said slowly, “some of the other members of this here wagon train, of which I am the leader of, if I may be so bold as to remind you, have offered up space on their wagons for the extra hides and tongues we harvest from this hunt.”

“And what of the rest of the bison?” Emma asked. “The meat, the bones. Are you simply intending to kill off an entire herd, and leave most their carcasses behind to rot?”

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“Government don’t care about the meat.” Mr. Grayson said with a shrug. “Tongues sell for the bounties, and hides sell quickly and easily. Not that I’d stop anyone from harvesting whatever meat they wanted to, while we work away at our kills. Good eating, after all. Easy enough to dry out too, to keep for the rest of the trip.”

“Hell,” continued, looking Emma up and down, “if you’d like, I could even have my men prepare the meat specially for you, in consideration of your missing time. They’re no strangers to making jerky on the road, and we’ve plenty of spices with us to make sure it’s a good flavor too.”

“That’s too kind of you,” Emma said, feigning a sweetness I knew she wasn’t actually feeling. I could tell she wasn’t fond of the man, but also had a feeling she was weighing him out. “Though,” she looked at me, “I wondered instead if, as I’m sure you will not change your mind about the hunt, you’d be willing to listen to a proposal of mine.”

“A proposal?” Mr. Grayson laughed, “I don’t think you understand then—”

“—Out of respect, as you just said, of my missing time. It sure would make me happy if you’d at least hear me out, Mr. Grayson.”

I knew that tone. Knew the way she’d said his name. She was cornering her prey.

“Well,” he looked back at the gathering behind him, and then back at her. “If you make it quick, I figure for a fine woman such as yourself, sure. What type of proposal do you have, Miss…”

“Parker,” she finished for him.

“Right, Miss Parker, what is it you wished to propose to me? I’m sure, you can understand, it must be quick. After all, as you’ve pointed out yourself, wasting time benefits no one. And I’ve a hunt to lead.”

“It’s quite simple, really,” Emma said with a smile. “I will not cause any more trouble with regards to your hunting plan, and in fact, will even offer up one of my personal hired guns, Mr. Smith here.” She nodded at me, before she looked back to Mr. Grayson. “And in return, on top of the fine meat preparation you’ve already generously offered to undertake for me,” she smiled, and it was filled with self-satisfaction, “you’ll promise that following this hunt, we’ll not have any more… unplanned stops, till we reach Lincoln.”

“And why,” Mr. Grayson drawled out, “would I agree to such a proposal?” He looked at me, and I could tell in his eyes, I wasn’t important. “It sounds like a rather poor deal on my part.”

“Because,” Emma’s eyes twinkled, and I could hear the confidence in her voice, “Mr. Smith here will ensure not a single bison from that herd escapes you, and,” she added, never once looking away from Mr. Grayson. “I can promise you he’ll kill more of the bison than the entirety of that sorry lot you’ve got gathered behind you.”

I glanced at Emma, and then at the dozen or so additional gunman, on top of Mr. Grayson’s five, that made up the hunting party. None of them had impressive amounts of mana. And only the hunters were actually equipped properly to hunt the large bison. Even still, while Emma’s faith in me wasn’t unwelcome, I couldn’t help but wonder if this time, she was biting off more than she could chew.

“Him?” Mr. Grayson looked at me, and then spat on the ground. My hands clinched on Baron’s reigns, and I took a deep breath, trying my hardest to keep my flames from escaping. “You think this whelp is a more capable than my hunters, and all the others?” He laughed, and the sound grated on me like nails across a chalkboard.

“Tell you what, Miss Parker.” There was foul intent in the way he spoke. “I’ll take up your proposal, on the condition that when,” he looked at me, and spat again, “Mr. Smith here lets you down, you’ll personally apologize to me, tonight, for wasting the time of everyone here.” He smirked, and it was a disgusting thing. I wanted to knock his teeth out right then and there.

“With that added condition then,” Emma didn’t even flinch, didn’t shy away, from the way the man leered at her, “when Mr. Smith outguns your entire party of glorified butchers, you will pay us, in full, for each bison he personally kills.”

Mr. Grayson held out a gloved hand, his eyes smoldering. “It’s a deal, Miss Parker.” As Emma held out her hand to return his shake, he grabbed her hand and pulled, attempting to draw her closer to him. I nearly laughed, as she didn’t budge. Mr. Grayson had a copper core, sure, which I knew now meant he was stronger than the average person. But so too, did Emma. She clenched his hand tight in hers, holding his gaze, unflinching.

“I thank you, in advance, for the good fortune.” She laughed as she let go of his hand. “After all, as you said. Time, is money.”

Mr. Grayson spun his horse angrily, and kicked his heels, speeding back towards the group. As he left, Emma smiled at me, not a single ounce of doubt in her gaze.

“I know you needed a chance to expend some mana,” she said softly, “so, here’s your chance.”

“A bit over the top, don’t you think?” I said with a slight chuckle. I appreciated she had so much faith in me, but to be completely honest, it seemed a tall task. Even for me. Granted… the moment she’d mentioned I’d be potentially joining the hunt, I’d begun crafting rounds. Air rounds, just as Clint had taught me. Bullets formed of air mana that could pierce stone. Already, my mental bandolier had half a dozen of the rounds formed for my rifle. While it still wasn’t my preferred method of firing, I was still a good shot with the gun. And with the things I’d learned over the past month, I was growing more and more confident that I, just might, be able to outgun that entire party of hunters. Especially since I knew a few things I was pretty sure they didn’t.

“What can I say,” Emma said with a shrug. “I figured the extra funds would be welcome in gathering supplies for our trip north of Lincoln. And,” she shot a look at Mr. Grayson’s back. “A man who flaunts his wealth such as Mr. Grayson does, is rather easily parted from it, if you know the right words to say.”

“Well then,” I said, nudging Baron forward. “I suppose I can’t let you down then.”

As I trotted away from her, my focus on crafting my rounds, I just barely heard Emma’s whispered words, as they followed me towards Mr. Grayson.

“I doubt you could ever let me down, Mr. Jones.”