The Man From Castle Rock

    He rode out of the sand storm on a hammerheaded,mean-eyed roan. His Winchester '73 laying across the saddle bows,ready in a wink for action. His name was Link, leastways thats all he'd ever called himself. His destination, the town called Castle Rock.He was a man searching for justice for the evil that men do. 

    As sun was beginning to drop in the sky he thought, might as well look for a place to camp for the night. He wanted to arrive in the daylight so there wouldn't be any question of who he was or why he was there. Finding a secluded spot by the creek, in a copse of willows, he stripped the rigging from his horse and picketed him near the creek.A quick roll was just what the horse wanted after such a hard day.                                                                                                                                                                                                        Link started pulling handfulls of buffalo grass to rub the horse down,knowing it was a situation that could get him hurt,as the roan really was not used to this 'treatment' yet.Caught as a colt by some wild mustangers ,the roan had had a rough life up till now,but that life had made the roan what he was...whip cord tough thru and thru,with no fear,and it seemed no end to his energy.

    Looking around, Link found some wood and proceeded to start a fire, thinking how good that grouse he snared earlier would taste. He set the coffee to boiling and started on the bird;with the meal over he could rest somewhat easy. The Apaches were still at their winter lands and he hadn't seen any sign of any whites roaming for the last week.                                                                                                        Pouring the coffee in his cup ,he started eating the bird wishing for some salt. That was the trouble with being civilized,you got to wishing for things you didn't really need like salt, companionship, friends, the love of a beautiful woman, who was taken swiftly and abruptly by the men he would chase into Hell and back.                                                                                                                                                                                                        The visions started as they always did;He'd met her at the town dance,a beautiful woman with wonderfully long and wavy brown hair and the greenest eyes he'd ever seen.Smitten,he had gone over and asked her to dance,a month later they were married,thats when the trouble started;knowing he needed a better job than 30 a month and found ,he took the marshalls job that was open.Little did he know the Hays brothers were coming to take the bank,and aleviate all that gold just sitting there.                                                                                                                                                                                                        Staring across the fire remembering those two shots fired from the corral and the others fired from back of the shed ,if only she hadn't stepped through the door at that moment. Rising angrily he tossed the last of his coffee from his cup on the fire and turned in, rolling up in his blankets, the big 44 in his fist, he tried to sleep.

    He woke at predawn, the haunting still in his eyes, and stirred the embers. Finding a glow, he added slivers of wood till he got flames and set the pot from last night to boiling, while he saddled up. Today was the day he would make Castle Rock and justice would be served. He played out the scenarios in his mind as he worked to break camp, knowing any little thing could change the way it played out, but only one thing would stay the same....Death,ugly and harsh, would come to those who took Amanda from him.

    Finishing the pot of coffee,he pulled the makings from his pocket and rolled a smoke,his mind reflecting again,she spoke in those final moments of her undying love for him,a love he'd never feel again,torn from him by men with no conscience,or scruples.Men rotten to their very core,as he stashed the pot and cup,he quickly mounted the roan and headed to town.He was anxious to resume the hunt.            Sitting on the hill at the outskirts of town,he studied it diligently,knowing one missed fragment of information overlooked could mean his death,he cataloged everything in his mind.The angles and formation of the buildings,fences and streets,even the horses at the hitching rails.                                                                                                                                                                                                        Everything was studied and memorized for reference.Abruptly he headed down into town heading for the saloon,knowing that was the place to start,he pulled up to the rail and got down.He tied the roan to a hitch post,checked each gun carefully and deposited each back in their holsters,making sure each slid in and out easily,and stepped thru the batwings quickly going to his left a step so as not to be siliuetted in the door and let his eyes get used to the dim light of the meager saloon.He walked to the bar and ordered a rye whiskey.As soon as it was poured Link downed it, turned to his right spotting two of his quarry,he opened the ball."who're the two skunks riding those stolen bay horses tied up outside"?Both men slapped leather but thats as far as they got,Link's guns were already pourin lead,first into one then the other.no one had even seen him draw but both guns were hammering out the death song,as both Hays brothers died together;the last thing anyone heard was"Two down two to go" as he walked calmly thru the batwings,shuckin empty casings and refilling empty chambers.Link mounted up looking around, not seeing the appaloosa and the line back dun,he turned east out of town then went south heading for Farmington,and the two other brothers.