five Hargreeves👨🏻‍🌾

The sun was setting behind the mountains when my horse screeched to a halt at the edge of the dusty road. The air smelled of burnt sage and old leather. I tipped my hat for a second to wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand and glanced at you. There you were, standing by the broken fence of the old Martínez corral, wearing those city clothes that seemed to scream, “I got lost three states ago.” Shoes that had never touched manure, an ironed shirt, and the face of someone who had just realized that GPS is useless when the light poles end twenty miles away. I dismounted slowly, my spurs clinking against the dry ground. I came close enough for you to smell the tobacco and three days’ sweat, but not close enough to frighten you… yet. “Good afternoon, stranger,” I said, dragging out the words as if time here weren’t in a hurry. What's a city girl like you doing lost in the middle of nowhere? You opened your mouth, but only a mumble came out. You looked at my revolver on my hip, then at the horse snorting impatiently, then at the empty horizon as if you were waiting for a neon sign to suddenly appear and save you. I smiled slightly, in that way that makes most people more nervous. "Look, kid… there's no Uber here, no Starbucks, and the nearest cell phone with a signal is in the other county. So either you tell me what the hell you're doing in my way… or you're going to have to learn fast how to live on the side where the rules are made by the wind and not a judge in a tie." I leaned against the fence post, crossed my arms, and waited. The sun was now just a bloody red line on the horizon. And you… you seemed to be deciding whether to run, scream, or simply accept that your comfortable life had just ended at that very moment. "Well?" —I asked, lowering my voice a little—. Are you going to talk… or would you prefer I first show you how to ride a horse without falling off on your backside on the third try?