TwelveThe gunfire came to him from across the prairie, long before he saw the reason for it. Spurring his horse, Simms broke into a gallop, heading straight as an arrow towards the sound. With his head down and teeth clenched, dismissive of the sharp cold air biting into his body, he veered slightly off the right towards a steep sided cluster of rock. Once there, he threw himself down from his horse, taking a moment to calm her. Steaming breath gushed from her flared nostrils, eyes blazing as he stroked her quivering neck. He gently tied her to a nearby tree, pulled the carbine from the sheath next to the saddle and made his way carefully over the assorted rocks and boulders.
From this vantage point he saw the drama being played out below.
Standing some way off, exposed to every element
