by: Denise Wallan

Blue Mustang

A hot breath breathed into Chet’s face an he batted away the thin air with one hand an continued to doze with his eyes closed for a few more moments. Warm rays of sunshine beat down heavily on him an pressed down on his eye lids as a warning that the first rays of morning had come an that it was time he got his ass off the ground. The hot breath hit his skin once again, but harder this time, the sound of a light snort came to his ears an Chet froze his heart skipping a beat in time.

He raised his right hand again an felt along the object that his head rested on, the object felt well worn an rather rough. An the smell of leather came to his nose an he took it in with a deep breath, his heart skipping again as the possibilities crept into his mind an rolled over. The last time he had smelled leather like that had been…when….he thought to himself about his experience or call it what you will, in the old west with the tall fiery red gelding.

It all came back to him now, he could remember the run in with his brother and the visit to Joey’s supply store. An the train robbery where he had been wounded, the visit to his mother that had ended with the death of the man on the Paso Fino and then the end, his father being shot an killed. The warm breeze hit him in the face again an the smell of wild flowers, green grass, fresh running water and land as wild as the west itself quivered in his nostrils. An a high pitched whinny came to his ears, loud an clear as if it had been right next to his head.

Slowly the realization sank into him an his eyes flew open, he peered around not immediately moving his head to better see, he knew all too well what he might see. But reluctantly he turned his head to the right and a pair of big light blue eyes met his an a nervous snort blew into his face as a powerful hoof pawed the ground right next to his head. Chet rolled away a few feet an sat up immediately putting his hand to the back of his head where he thought he had been stricken while analyzing the downed tree in front of his car. He pulled his hand away feeling know bruise an his hand showing know sign of blood, his hand naturally ran through his very short black hair, feeling dry and ruffled from sleep.

He turned his attention back to the eyes that had so nervously looked at him, an the horse looked back standing quietly now, just staring. A small crackle in the woods nearby suddenly caused the horse to rear an paw the sky with its large hooves an then crash back down onto the dry, hard, GA dirt. Chet pushed himself to his feet slowly, his mismatched eyes intent an steady on the horse as his voice finally came to him.

“Easy now…..easy there big fella….easy….shhhh.” He spoke soothingly to the horse an held his hands up at waist height in a steady motion.

The horses ears flicked back an fourth nervously but it stood calmly listening an paying close attention to Chet. Chet took a few slow steps closer to the horse, talking to the animal and soothing away its fear with soft and gental words until he fell silent as he grew closer. Each of his steps closer to the horse, slow but steady an easy going, an his attitude showed calm an fearlessness towards the creature. Finally, Chet held his hand out to the horses muzzle, an the horse sniffed his hand with deep draws of breath an then suddenly became careless an approached Chet. The horse gave Chet a rough, playful bump with his head an the Duke boy had to take a step back to keep from falling down, he pet the horses nose gently with long slender but deadly quick hands.

Seeing that once again the horse had taken his trust under its wing Chet ran his hand down the horses healthy coat an took a good look at the fine animal. An Chet slowly decided to himself about the horse, a long jet black mane and tail that flowed over the horses head covering its face….an indefinite wildness. Ah….a mustang. But his eyes fell over the horses color, a blue roan, splashed carelessly with white as snow paint marks scattered over the horses blue coat. Chet sized the animal up an decided that it stood a little less then 17 hands tall, an built well he noted, powerful wide hind quaters and a narrow but muscular chest with a thin but healthy barrel. The blue roan stallion was truly a magnificent horse, an by the looks of the attitude of the horse towards Chet, there was know doubt in Chet’s mind that much like “Red” the gelding from his previous experience, this horse is his companion an more then like his only trust worthy friend.

Resting his arm across the horses back Chet raised his eyes an for the first time he felt naked with out his hat on, an his blind eye felt revealed an noticed. Just the same he looked around himself at the landscape, his surroundings appeared to be alike to those that he had been in his first trip. Lots of trees, Willows, Pines, and grass so high it tickled the underside of your horses belly. Crickets chirped wildly in the land that set untamed an untouched, an a pure breeze blew ruffling Chet’s short black hair an blowing the stallions long black mane in thick wisps.

“Well Blue….looks like we should get to town an see where I stand this go ‘round.” Chet said his arms still slung over the horses back.

The horse arched his thick neck an turned its head to give Chet a rough bump as if to say ‘get your ass in gear, come on, come on, lets go, now!.’ He rubbed the horses face and stepped away swooping his black stetson off the ground an giving it a slap on his leg, dust puffing up off of his chocolate colored chaps.

It was time to go to town, Chet was excepting that here he was again in past an it was time to find out where he stood with the town of Hazzard County. His cold eyes settled on an object on the ground near his bed roll, it was with in an arms reach an well worn but also strongly oiled an cared for. He bent down and picked up the pair of holsters an Colt .45’s, an he looked at them in his hands for a moment. The last time he had strapped on a pair of these, he had protected, murdered, robbed and lived a life he only imagined had once existed. With his famous side ways smile he strapped the twin holsters around his hips and tied the straps down to each of his chap covered thighs. It felt so natural like he had done it every morning of his life.

He gathered his things and rolled up his bed roll, not being the type to eat breakfast he continued to pack his saddle bags an ready his things for travel. From the looks of the position of the sun it had to be about 9am, Chet tipped his stetson back an gazed at the sky for a few long minutes then continued with gathering his stuff.

When his saddle bags were packed an his guns were fully loaded an prepared to be fired at any moment he gently slipped the hackamore bridle onto Blue an draped the long chocolate colored reins over the horses neck. Chet laid the saddle blanket on his horses back an then the saddle, taking much time an care in saddling the mustang, an as wild and high strung as the horse appeared to be he stood quietly. Quiet as if he were eager to get on the trail an smell the fresh air, nip at the tall green grass and have a long drink from a cool spring of fresh flowing water.

Chet gave the cinch of his saddle an extra check to make sure it was snug an then stood next to his horse and took a glance around taking in the scenery carefully. He loosened a gun on each hip an stepped into the saddle swinging up on the horses back, an before he could even get settled the stallion jogged off eager to get going.

“Easy hoss! I got to get my rear in the saddle fella.” Chet said slipping his booted feet into his stirrups an settling back into his saddle in his usual alert poise.

He rode towards town allowing Blue to set his own road eating pace, an in know time at all they came to a well worn road. Fresh hoof prints an wagon tracks scattered freely in the light, kicked up dirt of the road, obviously the road was used often. Fearlessly Chet road on towards town, he remembered visiting Joey at the supply store on his first trip, but an itch in the back of his mind lead him to believe that in this reappraise of the past, Joey would not exist.

Miles went by, an soon the edge of town came into view as he came to the edge of a clear where the road he had been traveling on led to an he halted. His eyes carefully gazing over things an taking note, he made a point to notice the jail, the Boars Nest saloon, the supply shop, a hotel, the post office and a few other buildings, all of them neatly lined up on each side of the main street.

Chet adjusted the hat on his head, carefully tipping the jet black brim low to shield his eyes an he gave the horse a small squeeze with his legs an the horse walked on into town. The Supply Store was at this end of town in which Chet entered an he was glade for that, if he were facing trouble he would at least have some kind of warning.

Ridding through town an up to the store people looked at him, an there looks sent Chet to wondering, he knew all too well why they looked at him like they did. Like before, they were smart and they knew a gunfighter when they saw one, an this one was know exception, if anything he was worse then any ol’ desperado that drifted in. Different and worse because he was related to the town, his family had a farm not too far an held a proud and honest name, an here stood a murderous disgrace to the Duke family name.

Blue approached the hitching post in front of the store as any horse would do, but Chet turned the horses head towards the side of the building where know post stood to tie the horse to. He dismounted in the shade of the building, his eyes naturally gazing around as he dropped the horses reins to the ground.

“Stay Blue….” Chet’s voice lingered.

Pausing, he looks up from the cigaret he had begun to roll, his eyes taking a closer look at the town that stood before him. His mismatched eyes landed first on the fine details of the town, the perfectly fresh painted white picket fences of the few houses that lay in the town. The carefully an well polished windows and business signs that hung over the doors of the buildings, such as the saloon and the Post Office.

Every building stood well groomed an clean, painted friendly colors, even the jail looked alive to a degree. The people walking in the streets, dressed in carefully pressed shirt and sun dresses, children happily playing with wooden toys. An last but defiantly not least, at the very end of the main street sat the white church. Beautiful flowers planted out front, the wooden plank steps swept of every grain of dirt and the steeple stood proud an tall.

Chet blinked his eyes and boarded the steps to the supply store, his mind filing away ever detail of the town that he had noticed. It was a perfect town, almost too perfect and peaceful for his liking. A place so perfect like this could easily hide secrets that its people didn’t want noticed by the average passerby.

An in this case he wasn’t the average passerby, he lite his cigaret an shook out the match dropping it to the ground an crushing it out with the well worn toe of his boot. He entered the supply store casually. His booted steps making there own dull thud across the floor, his chocolate colored duster wisping back an forth with his lengthy steps towards the counter at the front of the store.

The people in the store stared at him, there eyes wide with an eerie an wary look, all of them noticing his tied Colt .45’s on each hip. Chet took a drag from his cigarette, the end coming to a red glow for a moment then dying back down to a steady smolder as he came up to the counter ignoring the stares. Even the young clerk behind the counter gave him a wary look, but none the less questioned Chet’s request.

“How may I help you?” The clerks voice was small and sounded timid.

The clerks eyes watched Chet nervously, but Chet didn’t look at him directly analyzing him out of the corner of his eye. He was a young man, not much past 16 Chet guessed, thin an rather meek looking in his perfectly pressed clothing and his nervous voice an stare did not go unnoticed by Chet. The other people in the store made there exit, there eyes never leaving the misbegotten young Duke.

“Corn meal, jerked beef, bottle of whiskey, tobacco, papers, and two boxes of .45 shells.” Chet said, his voice strong an fearless.

The clerk disappeared to fetch the request of supplies, an Chet took a lazy drag from his cigaret and felt a gentle tug on his right chap. Slowly he turned his head to the right, beginning his right side, his blind side, he couldn’t simply tilt his head an look down. He placed the cigaret between his lips loosely and raised his right arm and looked down, an his eyes met the baby blue eyes of a small child.

Those baby blue eyes stared back at him, the little girls head a mop of thick blonde curls and an her smooth young face decorated lightly with pink cheeks. She gave Chet’s chap another tug an he blinked his mismatched eyes at her feeling lost in himself for a few short moments.

“Baby.” The little girl said in a tiny voice as she raised a small but expensive doll in her small hand.

Chet looked at the toy for a few moments an then gave the child his famous side ways grin an nodded his head at the fine toy.

” Yes, pretty baby.” He replied in a soft voice.

The child extended her arms up towards Chet, the baby doll still in one hand an tightly clutched in her tiny and delicate fingers.

“Up. Up.” The child pleaded, her blue eyes a silent almost beginning plea.

Chet held his famous smile as he bent down and picked the little girl up under the arms an placed her comfortably in his left arm where he could see her.

“What is your name?” Chet asked his smile still wide and cheerful.

He took a drag from his cig an exhaled through the right side of his lips carefully blowing the smoke away from the child.

“Molly.” The child said turning the baby doll for Chet to better see. “This is Mary.” She said showing him the doll.

“You’re a very pretty little girl Molly an so is Mary.” He said looking at the little girl an then at the doll.

An for the first time since he had noticed the little girl and the baby doll he noticed the price tag on the toy an it occurred to him that the toy did not belong to her. That it was probably part of the stores merchandise and by the looks of it, one of the more expensive toys.

The clerk returned, his arms bound around the supplies that Chet had requested an he set them down on the counter looking up for the first time since his return to the room. His eyes went wide as they settled on the child in his customers arms, an he swallowed the knot in his throat genuinely fear stricken. Chet raised his eyes to the clerk, a smile still written on his face an the child still comfortably mingling in his left arm.

“How much for the doll?” Chet asked seeing the ill look on the mans face.

The young man stared silently finding his voice, his eyes still intent on the child who unknowingly set in the arms of a murderous gun fighter.

Chet cleared his throat an his voice took on a deeper tone, his smiling fading a little as the young boy did not answer him. “How much for the doll?” He said now more demandingly.

“Eh-e-eight dollars.” The clerks voice came out jittery.

“Alright, put it on my bill for my supplies. How much do I owe you?”

The clerk blinked in disbelief but he replied after silently adding up the bill. “Fifteen dollars.”

With his right hand Chet withdrew a roll of bills from his pocket and took a twenty dollar bill from them and placed it on the counter an roll back into his pocket.

“Molly?!” A nervous an frantic voice called out to the child from the entrance of the store.

Chet looked in the direction of the voice that had called out to the little girl an then back at the little girl in his arms. The child began to squirm in his arms and wiggle to get down, Chet held onto her tightly for a few more moments feeling the need to a sure the child that the doll belonged to her.

“Molly?!” The frantic women’s voice came again an the sounds of high healed shoes tapping down the board walk could be herd in a steady set of fast paced steps.

“I’m in here mama!” Molly yelled to her mother squirming more and more in Chet’s arms.

Chet kneeled down to the floor and set the child down on her feet an waited for her mother to return to the store. The women, dressed in a fancy long flower dress that wisped the ground when she walked on it, the bonnet on her head fitting perfectly. She came to the open door of the store and entered, looking frantically for the child. Molly saw her mother from Chet’s side where he still kneeled on the floor, the baby doll in her arms.

“Here mama here!” The child said holding her arms out to her approaching mother.

“You take good care of Mary ok?” Chet said looking the little girl in the eyes and releasing her to her mother.

“I will.” Molly said, the little girl understood that Chet had bought the toy for her. An she ran to her mothers waiting arms. Chet Stood up an looked at the girls mother, awaiting her response to him handling her child.

The women stood up with the child in her arms and looked at Chet, staring him up and down. Her eyes falling over the lean and thinly built Duke boy, an she clearly swallowed when her eyes fell over the guns on each of his hips. It was no secret who he was, the women had seen the wanted posters and she knew of the neighborhood Duke boy gone bad. Fact was she knew Bo Duke as a kind, friendly, matured man of the town, an she knew his kin, the other Dukes as respectable people.

An previously she had judged the young Duke boy that stood before her for being a murderous gunfighter who had no feelings for people. But standing there looking at him she suddenly felt differently about him, she stared at him for a few more moments, the child in her arms. An then saying nothing she carried the little girl outside and down the street an disappeared in the mingling people.

Chet gathered his supplies, words weren’t needed to say what the mothers eyes said, he had seen plainly that for a moment she had seen him for a human being and not just some outlaw gunfighter. He carried his supplies outside to his horse who stood in the shade waiting patiently, an he placed his supplies into his saddle bags. His eyes and ears paid close attention to everything around him, he listened to people talking and carrying on as they walked by. After placing his supplies into his saddle bags securely he stepped into his saddle and mounted the Blue stallion and turned him down the street towards the Boars Nest saloon.