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Creative Writing: Bounty

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Bounty hunter Levi Owens glared at the wanted poster one last time. The word “Reward” stretched across the top in bold, black letters. He folded the tattered notice and slid it into his vest pocket. All he needed was two weeks to track the bank swindler and another to drag his worthless hide back to Austin. All he wanted—was to shoot him dead. He loaded the last bag of provisions on the pack mule and finished tying a tarp over the top of the supplies. His horse Rio snorted and flicked his smoky-black ears. A welcome breeze eased the sticky July heat and Levi mopped his brow. His eyes locked with his widowed sister-in-law Rose. She wrapped her hands around a smooth-handled shovel and stabbed it into the ground. Six months ago, they’d buried …show more content…

The youngster tagged along after her, and the kid looked as confused as he felt. He touched his head, grimacing from the goose egg size lump. Levi. She’d called him Levi. He eyed the leather gun belt around his waist. From the wear on it, he’d worn it often, and the Colt resting on his hip was a familiar, yet distant comfort. Why couldn’t he remember? He padded his vest and finding a pocket, withdrew a folded paper. Was it a clue to his memory? Muffled footsteps came from the hall. With an unfounded secrecy, he slid the paper under the pillow and drifted off again. # The mantel clock chimed four times as Rose and Cole tiptoed through the dark house. Three days had passed since—the accident. They didn’t have long to dig this morning, she’d slept in, exhausted from keeping watch over Levi. If he awakened, she didn’t want to chance not being here, but she and Cole needed to keep digging. Exiting the kitchen, she walked beside Cole along the rocky path. He knew not to speak, lest Levi hear through the raised window. At the barn, the horses neighed as Cole shoved the door back and waited for her to enter. In a hurry, she found the lantern and lit the …show more content…

She’d never tell him the whole truth. In time, Edgar Parker and the Bedford gang would pay her a visit, and she had to have their money, $20,000. If she didn’t have it, Levi was the only person between her and the Bedfords. Cole tapped the paper. “I wonder why Pa drew the trees all slanting in one direction.” “Maybe it means something, maybe not.” Was her late husband that clever? Cyrus had double-crossed his gang and left a note revealing his plan. He expected the Bedford gang to search for him, so he buried the bank’s money, Parker’s money, at Levi’s ranch, figuring no one would suspect a bounty hunter. He carried half of the map with him—the half showing the distance from the landmarks to the loot. The other half, showing the landmarks, he tucked inside his best shirt at home with the note. If he died, he figured she would bury him in that shirt. Cyrus never put his family first, but in his own way, maybe he thought he’d taken care of her. How typical, Cyrus probably took for granted that Parker wouldn’t find his half of the map. But a gang member brought his body home for burial, claiming her husband died from a fall, but the bullet holes in his back proved otherwise. How long would it take Parker to figure out that he had only half a

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