Outcast Read Free

cabin putting together a list of tasks. He would drag the bed and mattress and covers outside. He couldn’t sleep with the smell of death so close to him, and he was too accustomed to sleeping on the ground to sleep in a bed anyway.
    He would look for a broom and sweep the dust out. Then he would build a nest on the floor. Tonight while the stove was still putting out some heat, he would settle into that nest and try to decipher that book on the nightstand.
    â€œA glorious day,” Standish yelled, and Sally whickered in agreement.
    Miles Standish crossed his legs on the spring wagon seat and stared down at the town. He would strike up a cigarette now, if he hadn’t quit smoking. There was nothing menacing about the town. If anything, it spelled hope. The buildings were all new and freshly painted sprawling along the Great Northern Railroad. Still, the thought of stepping into that town rippled the hair on the back of Standish’s neck. If anyone recognized him.…
    Standish stretched the muscles of his back. He could ride on, leave any traps in the little town for other wayfarers, but what he had found at the cabin had sent a faint wave of hope trickling through the synapses of his mind.
    Standish took a deep breath and pulled the wide brim of his hat lower. If he could hide his face in the hat’s shadow, maybe.…
    Sally was skittish. She didn’t like towns, either. She sure as hell didn’t like pulling a wagon as though she were a common draft horse. Standish told her that she would so dazzle other horses that they wouldn’t notice the wagon.
    A four-by-eight-foot sign announced their arrival in Last Chance, Montana. Last Chance for free land to grow wheat tall as a man’s chest. Last Chance for prosperity that would evoke the envy of farmers throughout the world. Last Chance for a new life, Standish thought.
    Main Street belied the sign. It was packed dirt with two axle-deep ruts running down the center. He coaxed Sally to one side of the ruts, stopping in front of the Last Chance Emporium. He left Sally to drink from the horse trough as he stepped inside. A man and a woman stood behind the counter. The man looked up and smiled.
    â€œWhat can we do for you?”
    â€œI have a list, here,” Standish said, handing it to the man.
    â€œYou certainly do,” the storekeeper said, perusing the scrap of paper. “You expecting to set up a store of your own?”
    Standish grinned, “Wondering if you could tell me where the courthouse is.”
    â€œWell, we don’t have a courthouse, not really. But they’ve set up in that building just down the street. Looks like a barn. Supposed to have our real courthouse next spring.”
    Standish nodded. “Would it be all right to leave the wagon here? Maybe you could get it loaded while I get my horse shoed and take care of business at the courthouse.”
    The shopkeeper looked down at the counter and scratched his head. “Don’t mean to be impolite, but we’re carrying about all the credit we can, and.…”
    â€œI pay cash.”
    The shopkeeper looked up and smiled. “Didn’t mean to.…”
    â€œDon’t worry about it.”
    The shopkeeper thrust his hand across the counter. “Myron Kennedy.”
    â€œNice to meet you,” Standish said. “I’ll be back soon as I can.”
    The shopkeeper stared at the door long after Standish stepped out.
    Standish stopped for a moment in the sun, feeling its rays on his body, treasuring the warmth. He took a deep breath and sauntered to Sally. She nodded several times, apparently pleased to see him.
    â€œLet’s get this paraphernalia off,” Standish said. “A fine lady like you shouldn’t be seen in town in such a drab outfit.”
    Standish slipped off the harness, and tossed it in the wagon box. Then he slipped a rope around Sally’s neck and led her down the street. The blacksmith’s shop