THE LAST RIDGE

Already the cold wind blowing over the warm water was brewing up a haze of closure preparing another night of reformation. Realizing this would be their last night together before he saw her home safely, he rushed Zeb not wanting to be away for another moment. Having to be sensible, at this time in their lives grated his nature and reminded him how he had done this same thing five years before. The sensible thing. He heard shots! Two shots fired came from the direction of the camp and he damn near froze in the saddle. Taking a moment, he tried to make sense of what he heard. His orders to Summer about giving him a signal of firing two shots came back to mind and he beat his boots into the belly of the black stallion blindly forging through swamp water and dense ridges of willow brakes and splintered remains of cypress stumps hidden by high tide. He slowly circled back.

Dropping the black stallion down into the water, he snaked his way round back, staying off a hundred feet. The thick grove of trees surrounding the cabin obscured his view. Sliding down from the stallion he Parnell nudged him down stream and slowly entered the cold black water. Without ripples or sound and disregarding dangers he slithered closer .Straining for a glimpse of the men threatening Summer', he removed his hat, gently placed it on the surface allowing it to drift away. Fingering the Colt he took mental inventory of his options while he bellied along the ridge and lifted from the water.

Now he was as close as he could get without being seen.The whinny of horses told him there were at least two riders to contend with. Stomping of the horses agitated by the rampage through the wetlands, he thought may have brought them to happen upon the small camp. Then he got a glimpse of the bay, its' left front leg branded by the white marking of a star and he had no doubt the bay belonged to Rance. His skin began to crawl when moss's words came back. The crack of the rifle firing through the door of the camp hastened Parnell to reach closer undercover of thick brush surrounding the building. He waited for an indication of what he would confronted.Sounds of lustful laughter drifting over head told him the riders were trying to enter the cabin.

Summer now held captive inside, he feared for her life. The sun was quickly dwindling and he knew had to end the stand off before dark. "Come on, little lady! Not going to hurt you! Just wanta take a good look at the beauty we seed down by the river. That brother of yorn said you a mite upperty." He screamed out loud at the thought of bedding her."Gonna be dark soon and gets spooky in the wetlands." Parnell heard the clopping of boots when the bandit rushed across the porch and jumped from the third step onto the ground. Head lowered, he snaked under the cabin looking for a way to get inside. Not finding any entrance, he kicked his boot against a stilt and looked around for something to pry open the floor boards.

"Come on, shoot me again! Can't have many shots left. You done spent most of what you likely had." He screamed up at the floor of the cabin. Parnell could only see the back of his legs and he drew a mental path between himself and the bandit.

Not able to see the man or what he looked like, Reaching his left hand behind, he fingered his `second chance' from his belt and snuggled the handle deep into his palm. Gripping the knife with might, he had only one chance to get the man before he turned and fired. Bracing himself for the final effort he drew a deep breath, tightened his grip, silently rose to his knees, hesitated a split second then lunged forward. Grabbing the bandit from behind, his right arm around his neck, instantaneously he plunged the knife up to the hilt into the center of the thug's back. Well, maybe that was the last ridge.

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