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The Ambush
My name is Codey-Ann, but most people just call me Codey. That name would make any boy become a man in a hurry. I was six foot nothing and stouter than any bull by the time I had the chance to prove myself worthy of being called a man. I wore an old torn hat and chaps almost everywhere I went. I hated trouble, but it always seemed to find me. The fall I turned seventeen, my Pa took me on my first cattle drive to Wyoming. I rode a white stallion with a temper as short as a stick of dynamite. The first night on the trail we ate a simple meal of cornbread, beans, and peppered meat. I sat around the fire until I got tired of all the old timers making jokes about me. I walked a short distance away and spread out my simple bedroll. Later that night when the fire died down and the others had gone to sleep, I heard a strange bird calling. After a while I heard another one and then another. The calling started out far off and then came closer. The eerie sound made me uneasy and wary. It was like closing your eyes waiting for a rattlesnake, you knew it was going to strike, you just didn’t know when. I reached for my gun, stood up slowly, and inspected the camp. Nothing stirred, not even the wind. “What the heck’s wrong?” I whispered. Before I knew what had happened, my Pa had all the men shooting at the… |
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Funding For This Site Provided In Part By A Title V Grant
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