GA Supernatural Western Sample

The rancher placed the silver in my hands, knowing that my word alone was enough. A mountain cat had been terrorizing his livestock for weeks and slinked into the mountains before he had a chance to bring it down. With the cold season upon us, the rancher couldn’t risk it coming back for more.

That’s where I came in.

Mounting the old appaloosa, I nudged her toward the setting sun. The mountain range blackened as the hours passed, and the horse was not the only one struggling with aching bones. My body had been through hell in the sixty-five years prior, but still, the need to hunt burned in my blood. The challenge of the chase—of the kill. It called to me as the livestock had called to the mountain cat. Though I had fought my share of battles, mother nature was one opponent that I didn’t dare cross.

That was the conclusion I came to while I dismounted and studied the tracks in the fresh snow. I pulled the sheepskin coat tighter around my aging body to ward off the chill. Old Apple stomped the hard ground, her breath a wild flurry as it poured from her nostrils.

“I smell him, too,” I whispered to the horse. Placing a comforting hand on her neck, I dug out the cigarette case in my pocket. I felt the lines that withered my face crack as I squinted against the white snow. I placed the tobacco on my lip, savoring the feel of the paper against my skin. I removed my gloved hand from Apple only to bring up the lighter and scorch the cylinder’s end.

The smoke seeped into my lungs, warming them with fire. The newspapers had recently released articles speculating that such habits caused the dreaded illness—cancer. I laughed and turned to Old Apple. “What do you think, girl? Should I focus more on my health?”

Apple shook her head, agitated that we weren’t moving forward.

Finishing the cigarette, I raised the scarf hanging from my neck and tucked it into the worn wide-brimmed hat that had sat there for the last three decades. The smoke firmly trapped in my lungs, I mounted the horse and nudged her along, the spurs on my boots tinkling like coins in a dead man’s pocket.

We rode until the moon had risen high. I wasn’t going to lose the cat’s trail because of sleep. I would hunt until the terror was no longer able to draw breath.