As they rode side by side, the quiet rhythm of hooves echoed along the dusty path. Jed glanced over at Charlie, the younger man brimming with excitement as he spoke.
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"So, if we really find all those crystals and finally kick this cancer to the curb," Jed began, his tone casual yet edged with curiosity, "what are you plannin' on doin' with yourself after?"
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Charlie grinned, eyes lighting up at the thought. "Oh, I got it all figured out. First thing, I'm gonna get famous. Real famous. Then, I'll get rich, buy myself a big house, hire some servants—maybe ten or twenty—and fill the place with as many ladies as I can fit. Not spendin' the rest of my days on some farm, feedin' animals, that's for sure."
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Jed chuckled, shaking his head with a bemused expression. "You think big, I'll give ya that," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "But let me tell ya somethin'—everyone always thinks their time's the one that'll go down in history, like it's the only era that matters. But rivals come and go, fortunes rise and fall, and all that's left in the end is just history sortin' out the scraps."
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Charlie shrugged, brushing it off with a smirk. "Yeah, but wouldn't you want a nice place to settle? A big house, fine things, maybe some pretty ladies to keep you company?"
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Jed scratched his chin, laughing under his breath. "Kid, 10 or 20 ladies sounds like a headache, and tryin' to remember all their names? That's just askin' for trouble. I'd sooner take one good woman, one who knows me inside out, than deal with the circus of tryin' to impress a whole crowd."
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Charlie shook his head, still grinning. "You really think so? Just you, one lady, and a quiet life? Doesn't sound like much to me."
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Jed gave him a sidelong glance, his tone turning a bit more thoughtful. "Ain't about the crowd or the fortune, Charlie. It's about findin' somethin' that don't slip through your fingers when life's got you by the throat. Sure, you go ahead and chase after all the riches and attention you can get your hands on, but one day, you'll find out it don't mean half as much as a few acres of land and a roof that's yours. A place where you can breathe, where nobody's makin' demands or keepin' score."
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"Aw, come on, Jed. You're tellin' me you wouldn't trade all that for a bit of luxury?" Charlie asked, half in disbelief.
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Jed laughed, this time a little louder. "Luxury? That's just another word for tryin' to outrun what's already chasin' ya. I don't mind feedin' animals, fixin' fences, or watchin' the sun come up over my own land. Keeps a man grounded. Besides, riches and luxury are just fancy ways of sayin' you got more than you need. Most folks forget—what you need and what you want don't often line up."
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Charlie rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his grin. "Guess I don't have your taste for the simple life, old man. But maybe that'll change if we pull this off."
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Jed chuckled, giving Charlie a nod. "Maybe. Somethin' tells me you'll learn it the hard way, but that's alright too. Sometimes, it's the only way that sticks."
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They rode in silence for a while, the quiet filled only by the creak of leather and the steady rhythm of their horses' hooves. Finally, Jed spoke up again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
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"And don't get me wrong, kid—chasin' your dreams ain't a bad thing. Just don't forget to keep one foot on the ground, or life'll knock you on your back faster than you can say 'big house and pretty ladies.'"
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As Jed and Charlie rode their horses through the dense forest, Jed suddenly called out, "Hold up."
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Charlie pulled his reins, turning to him. "What is it, Uncle Jed?"
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Jed scanned the area, then glanced down at his map. "Seems like we've made it to Josephine County in Oregon," he said. "It's mostly rugged terrain and thick forests out here. This place is known for its big stretches of Douglas fir, pine, and cedar."
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Charlie nodded, looking around at the towering trees surrounding them. "Think there's anything out here for us?"
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"Plenty," Jed replied, folding up the map. "There's a lot of game in these woods. And if we dig deep enough, we might even find some useful resources around here."
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The landscape sprawled out before them, stretching over thousands of acres of mountains, rivers, and thick valleys. The mighty Rogue River flowed nearby, winding its way through the dense forest like a lifeline. As they continued, the smell of pine and cedar filled the air, reminding them of just how vast and wild this land was.
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"Look out for fruit trees, too. Could be some useful supplies to grab," Jed said. "The land provides a lot out here, but it's not for the faint-hearted."
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Charlie grinned. "Guess it's a good thing we aren't."
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They spurred their horses onward, blending into the towering shadows of Josephine County's untamed wilderness.
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Charlie rubbed his head, muttering, "Yeah, yeah," under his breath. As he squinted off into the trees, a rabbit darted out into view. Without a second thought, he drew his revolver and fired a couple of hasty shots, each one whizzing wide of its mark. The rabbit, undisturbed by the close calls, bounded away into the underbrush.
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Jed sighed, arms crossed, his face twisted with a mixture of disappointment and amusement. "Boy… did you just miss all of your shots?" He shook his head in disbelief. "How in the devil do you escape from banks if you can't hit a rabbit that's standing still?"
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Charlie shrugged, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I don't know, Uncle Jed. I get by on luck, I guess. Luck's never let me down."
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"Luck, huh?" Jed shot him a dark, crooked grin. "Well, luck's a fine thing… right up 'til it runs out. And if luck was on your side, maybe you wouldn't be dealin' with that damn cancer, now would you?"
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Charlie shot him a glare. "Jackass."
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Jed chuckled, holding his hands up in a mock apology. "Alright, alright. Poor taste, I know." His smirk softened as he looked at Charlie. "How 'bout instead of relying on luck, we work on getting you some skill to go with it? You up for a little practice?"
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Charlie sighed but nodded, shifting his grip on his revolver. "Sure, why not. Couldn't hurt."
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"Good. First things first, though, we're gonna need a better place to shoot at." Jed squinted around, eyes settling on a stretch of river off to the left. "There. Let's ride over by that riverbank; might find us some rocks to use for target practice."
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He nudged his horse forward, and Charlie scrambled to keep up, calling after him, "Wait up!"
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When they reached the river, Jed dismounted, stepping into the shallow water to gather a few rocks. He set them up on the opposite bank, spaced out at irregular intervals. As he dusted his hands off, he looked over at Charlie. "Alright, kid, here's the deal: I want you to hit each of these rocks. No missing. I want you to do it five times in a row. And then we're gonna do it again. Think you can manage that?"
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Charlie's eyebrows shot up. "What? That's… that's a bit overkill, don't you think?"
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Jed scoffed. "Overkill's what's gonna keep you alive out here. Now, don't just stand there gawkin'. Draw, and let's go over the basics."
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He walked over to Charlie, inspecting his revolver and nodding. "First things first: gotta understand what you're holdin'."
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Jed lifted Charlie's gun, tapping each part as he explained. "Look here. You got the barrel, that's where your bullet's gonna leave from. Cylinder's where they're sittin' right now, loaded up." He spun the cylinder, checking its rotation. "Hammer here's what you pull back before firing, and these sights on top, they're what you use to line things up. Simple, ain't it?"
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Charlie nodded, but Jed noticed his grip looked loose. "Easy part's knowin' what's what," he continued, "but that ain't all there is to it."
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"Now, pay attention, 'cause this'll save your hide someday," Jed said, his voice hardening. "Always keep that muzzle pointed down if you ain't shootin'. Ain't no quicker way to meet your maker than forgettin' that one rule. And for the love of God, don't keep your finger on that trigger 'til you're ready to fire. Got it?"
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Charlie nodded, shifting his hand off the trigger as Jed watched approvingly. "Good. Don't let me catch you slackin' on that."
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Jed nudged Charlie's feet with his boot, adjusting his stance. "Stand with your feet about shoulder-width apart. Keep your right foot back just a bit—gives you more balance, makes it harder for the recoil to knock you off your feet. Now, grip that revolver tight. Not so tight your knuckles turn white, but firm enough that it won't jump out of your hand."
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Charlie adjusted, still looking uncertain. Jed came up behind him, pressing his hands down over Charlie's to show him the right amount of grip. "Higher on the handle, kid. Recoil's gonna kick, and if you're holdin' too low, it'll fly right outta your hand. You think any gunslinger worth his salt ever dropped his weapon mid-shot?"
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With a critical eye, Jed watched Charlie's stance, adjusting his hands to align the revolver's sights. "See that little notch on the top? That's your rear sight. Now, line up the front sight right between that, like you're looking down a straight road. Keep that rabbit in the sights." He grinned as he saw the frustration on Charlie's face. "Patience, boy. This ain't about rushin'. Focus on the target, not the shot."
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Charlie took a shaky breath, squinting down the sights. Jed tapped his shoulder. "Good. Breathe in. Hold it a moment, just enough to keep your hands steady, then exhale slowly. Don't yank the trigger. Just give it a gentle squeeze, like you're coaxing it."
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Charlie hesitated before finally pulling the trigger, but his hand jerked slightly, causing the bullet to miss the mark. Jed chuckled dryly. "Now, that's what I call a flinch. Not exactly the way you want to impress a lady—or hit a target."
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Charlie gritted his teeth, his face red. "I'm tryin', alright?"
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Jed softened just a bit. "I know, kid, I know. This ain't easy stuff. But you keep yankin' on that trigger, and you'll never hit a damn thing. Smooth, steady. Try again."
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Charlie took another shot, this time managing to land a hit on one of the rocks. Jed nodded with approval. "Not bad. Now, let's try it five more times, no misses this time."
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Charlie groaned. "I'm not even sure I got enough luck for that."
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Jed smirked, arms crossed. "Well, that's the idea, boy. This ain't about luck anymore. 'Cause if you're in a real fight, and you're runnin' low on bullets… you sure as hell don't want to be prayin' for luck. So buckle up. We're here till you've got skill to back up that attitude of yours."
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With a renewed sense of determination, Charlie lifted his gun, aiming carefully this time. And as Jed watched him, he couldn't help
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the faint glimmer of pride that stirred somewhere beneath that gruff exterior.
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Charlie squeezed the trigger, and the revolver kicked back, the shot going wide. He gritted his teeth, squinting at the distant rocks and tried again. Miss. His face tightened, and a flush of frustration rose to his cheeks.
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"Easy now, take it slow," Jed muttered, arms crossed as he watched Charlie.
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Charlie took another breath, steadied his hand, and fired. Miss.
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With each miss, his grip got tighter, his patience thinner. Finally, after yet another missed shot, Charlie lowered the revolver with a huff, frustration written all over his face. "Damn it!" he muttered.
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Jed just shook his head, that ever-present smirk tugging at his mouth. "Boy, I ain't seen shootin' that bad since I had to teach ol' Jason back in '53. And that man was as blind as a bat in daylight."
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Charlie groaned, rolling his eyes. "I'm tryin' here, alright? You think I wanna keep missing?"
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Jed let out a dry chuckle, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "Ain't about what you want, Charlie. You keep rushin' it like that, and you're only givin' yourself worse odds." He sauntered over, putting a steadying hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Look, shootin' ain't about fightin' the gun. It's about lettin' it do what it does. Relax that hand of yours, take a breath, and don't think about missin'. Think about where you want that bullet to go."
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Charlie looked at the gun in his hands, almost like it was the first time he'd really noticed it. He sighed, loosening his grip. "I don't know how you make it sound so simple."
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Jed shrugged. "Ain't about simple, kid. It's about patience, somethin' you ain't got much of. Now, aim again, but this time… don't be lookin' at that rock like it's some far-off dream."
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Charlie squared his shoulders, lifting the revolver again, this time with a little less tension. He lined up the sights, inhaled, and—BANG! The rock chipped as the bullet grazed it, not quite a direct hit, but closer than he'd been before.
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Jed grinned, giving him an approving nod. "Now that's more like it. You're getting there."
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Charlie fired again. And misses. His shoulders slumped as he heaved out a sigh.
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Jed, watching from a few paces back with his arms crossed, let out a low chuckle. "Boy, I swear, you're gonna run the whole countryside outta bullets at this rate. You sure you ain't tryin' to miss on purpose? I reckon you got that down to an art form by now."
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Charlie gave him a sidelong glare. "I'm just…distracted, alright? This whole cancer thing's messing with my head."
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Jed softened slightly, though his voice still carried that sardonic tone. "Ain't no shame in that. Folks stare death in the face, their hands start shakin', even if they don't know it. 'Specially with somethin' like cancer. You're allowed to feel it, kid."
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Charlie shook his head. "I thought I was supposed to be tough, y'know? Act like nothin' can get to me."
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Jed raised an eyebrow. "Who in tarnation told you that? Bein' tough don't mean bein' stone-cold. Bein' tough means standin' up even if you're scared witless." He nudged Charlie with his boot. "Now, if you're done with the pity party, let's get back to shootin'. I wanna see you actually hit somethin' today."
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They both glanced back to the targets as Charlie lined up his shot, breathing in to calm himself. Bang. Miss. The bullet hit a tree several yards away from the target, sending a couple of startled birds flapping away.
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Jed covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smirk. "Good, scare the crows away—lord knows we don't need them watchin' this mess."
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Charlie narrowed his eyes, aiming more carefully this time. He fired again. The bullet ricocheted off a rock and skidded off into the brush somewhere, sending up a puff of dust.
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Jed shook his head in mock disbelief. "You tryin' to play pool with that gun or what? This ain't billiards, kid, quit bouncin' 'em off every which way."
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Charlie groaned. "Well, maybe I'm just not cut out for this."
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Jed huffed, crossing his arms and adopting a theatrical look of concentration. "Nonsense. I've seen fellas with one eye and half a hand who could do better.
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Charlie tried again, taking extra care with his aim, but the bullet missed the rock by a mile. Jed slapped his thigh with exaggerated disappointment. "Lord almighty, you're killin' me, kid. I might just die from secondhand embarrassment here."
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Charlie clenched his jaw. "Maybe I should just go back to robbin' banks. At least I'm good at that."
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Jed smirked. "Good at running away from banks, you mean. Seems like every heist you pulled ended with you high-tailing it outta town before they could catch ya. But hey, we got time, so go on, try again. See if you can hit that poor, defenseless rock."
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Charlie inhaled deeply, leveling his gaze on the target and pulling the trigger. Bang! He actually grazed the rock this time, sending it toppling off the post.
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Jed gave a slow clap. "Well, look at that! You actually made contact. Was it luck or skill?"
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Charlie managed a grin. "Maybe both?"
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Jed rolled his eyes, but there was a trace of approval in his expression. "Yeah, yeah. Next time, aim for more 'skill' than 'luck.' One day, maybe you'll be hittin' things on purpose instead of by happy accident." Charlie took a deep breath, steadying himself, but as soon as he aimed, his hand wavered again. Bang! Another miss. The bullet barely skimmed the edge of the rock.
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Jed sighed and shook his head. "I've seen drunks shoot straighter than that. You wanna hit somethin', maybe try relaxin'. We ain't got nothin' but time and bullets here, anyhow."
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After a few more rounds, Charlie finally managed to graze one of the rocks, sending it toppling off the log and into the river with a splash. He looked over, feeling a hint of pride.
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Jed let out a sarcastic cheer, clapping slowly. "Well, look at that, he actually hit somethin'. Must be a miracle."
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Charlie grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Maybe I'm gettin' the hang of it."
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Jed shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. "Maybe you are. Just remember—next time, let your aim settle as easy as the river flowin'. Got it?" Charlie steadied himself, inhaling deeply as he tightened his grip on the revolver. He felt his pulse slow down, his fingers loosening just enough on the trigger to feel in control but still ready. He focused on the last rock sitting defiantly on the log across the river, narrowing his eyes and blocking out everything but that single target.
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Bang!
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The shot rang out, echoing down the river. This time, the bullet hit dead center, sending the rock flipping into the water with a satisfying splash. Charlie lowered the revolver, almost in disbelief, as a huge grin spread across his face.
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Jed, leaning on his rifle, watched with a crooked smile, his tone low and amused. "Well, look at that, boy finally learned to dance."
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Charlie looked over at Jed, his eyes practically shining. "I... I did it, didn't I? I actually hit it!"
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Jed smirked, nodding as he reached into his pocket for his tobacco pouch. "Don't go throwin' yourself a parade just yet. One good shot don't make you a gunslinger. But it's a start, and I'll give you that." He paused, striking a match against his boot. "Just means we've got a lot more trainin' ahead before you're fit for a real fight."
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Charlie took a deep breath, the weight of his progress settling in. He felt a spark of confidence for the first time, like he'd finally cracked open a door he thought was sealed shut. "Thanks, Jed. You know, for all the hell you gave me."
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Jed chuckled, exhaling a plume of smoke. "Oh, don't start gettin' sentimental on me now. The only thanks I want is seein' you keep those bullets on target, without me holdin' your hand. Next time you're facin' down trouble, ain't gonna be no one there to bark at you to hold steady."
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Charlie nodded, gripping the revolver tighter, feeling the weight of Jed's words settle in. There was still a lot he didn't know, a lot to learn, but at least he'd taken a step. He looked over at Jed, a newfound respect in his eyes. "Guess I better keep workin', then."
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Jed nodded, a glint of approval flashing across his weathered face. "Now you're speakin' my language. But remember, it ain't just about the gun. It's about you. If you keep your nerve steady and your mind sharp, no cancer or outlaw's gonna keep you down. You got that?"
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Charlie held Jed's gaze and gave a firm nod. "Yeah. I got it."
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With a final glance at the river, Jed turned, waving Charlie to follow. They walked back toward their horses, the sun starting to dip, painting the sky in shades of red and gold. For Charlie, every step felt lighter.
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Charlie lowered the revolver, a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration flooding through him. "I'm done?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
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Jed nodded, brushing some dirt off his pants. "Ya, for now at least. Can't have you burnin' out before we even get to the fun part." He smirked, clearly enjoying the moment.
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Charlie chuckled, his confidence buoyed. "Feels like I've been shootin' at those rocks forever."
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Jed shrugged, his expression turning a touch more serious. "You're a long way from bein' a sharpshooter, but it's a hell of a lot better than missin' every time. Progress ain't a straight line, kid."
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"Yeah, I guess," Charlie replied, leaning against a nearby tree. "But I didn't think it'd be this tough. I mean, I know it's just practice, but I'm supposed to be tough, you know? Not all… well, wobbly."
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