James Walter Orr

Seeker's Valley: Bend of the Rimrock James Walter Orr

Seeker's Valley Preview ?Hey, Kid,? I said. ?It?s been awhile since I saw you last. Someone told me you were back east.? I pushed through the men and shook hands with the kid, who was trying to control his fear. ?Come on over to my table and let?s catch up on what your family is doing,? I said. The apparent leader glanced my way and nodded. ?I have some business with the kid,? he said, a challenge in his eyes. ?Doesn?t it look to you like he?s an eastern sissy son-of-a-bitch?? I looked the boy over and smiled. Then I turned back to the big fellow. ?Hell, Stud, you've got me there. I really couldn?t tell you how an eastern sissy son-of-a-bitch looks,? I answered, ?but then I?m not the one running around with a sissy son-of-a-bitching gang.? The big fellow turned toward the boy, whose mouth was bloody. As my words sank in, he quickly turned. ?What the hell are you trying to say?? he growled. I had taken the kid by the shoulder and steered him over to my table. I turned my head toward the bar. The bartender was watching the action. I held up my bottle of beer, pointed to the kid, and turned around to take my seat with my back to the wall. Before I could sit down, the big fellow had taken a couple of steps toward us. His face was tight with anger and he forced the words through his clenched teeth. ?Draw, you son-of-a-bitch,? he snarled. His hand gripped the butt of his forty four. ?If you don?t like sons-of-a-bitch, keep your mama out of the kennel,? I answered. Sputtering with rage, he pulled his gun. So did I, and it was the last thing he ever didn't see.