Crossroads

by M.L. Bushman

Slowly, the boy pivoted, hands in plain sight.

"So, why'd that old man send you to me?" I asked.

Dave's reluctance to answer was written all over his hangdog face.

"What?" I demanded. "What'd he say?"

"You sure you wanna know?"

I slapped leather.

The boy gasped and spit, "Never see this coming. Not in a million years. And something about irritation and," he winced and grimaced, "arbitrary bastard."

Must've been the face I made, or maybe that sharp intake of breath prior to.

"No," Dave cried, showing his palms. "Don't shoot me, man. I was just waiting for you to get back and the door was open, like that guy said. Didn't mean to fall asleep on your couch."

I holstered my weapon in a flash, pressing blood from my lips until it hurt.

"All right, all right." He waxed even more pitiful, like a pissing puppy. "I found a biscuit and ate it. I'm sorry, man. I'll leave now, right now."

I said, "Put your hands down," and grit my teeth. "So, where were you headed when you ran into him?"

"That old guy?"

"Well, who we been talking about here?"

Dave recoiled and snapped, "How the hell would I know?"

I glowered, the boy backpedaled a step, neither of us saying a word for two drawn breaths at least.

"Can I go now?" Dave said. "I don't like the look on your face."

Right then, Sarah burst through the kitchen entry. "What the hell're you doing here?" she cried.

I looked from Sarah to Dave and my lungs deflated.

Perish the thought.

"What's that supposed to mean, Eli?" she spit harshly. "Perish what thought?" She eagle-eyed Dave into a wincing cringe and said, "I know who you are."

45 pages, Kindle Edition

Published January 19, 2014

About the author

M.L. Bushman has three books published by Jigsaw Press--Miracle the novel; and The Implausible Hero. She also writes under the pseudonym Kris Karrel and has two books published as such: Threads, a Blaine Horney Mystery, and Just Blaine Horney. She is currently working on a futuristic Western series of books.

A single mom, Ms. Bushman wears a lot of hats these days. Novelist, writer, editor-Jigsaw Press, typesetter, book cover designer, interior layout and design, to name a few.

In addition to all of the above, the author likes to play ranch-hand for her better than good neighbors when called upon. "In my neck of the woods," she says, "we're all cow and horse junkies. Sort of goes with the territory."

Ms. Bushman states emphatically that she could do none of the above without the support of God and her twelve-year-old daughter, a girl good as gold and smart as the day is long, and then some.

The author and her daughter share their home outside of Sun River, Montana, with one indoor cat--Lady--numerous outdoor cats with names like Garfield, Whiskers, Garfield Imposter, Pinky and Rabbit, plus one American Saddlebred horse, Chewy.