Edge: The Loner

Twilight was short lived, the grayness dissolving into the black of true night with its normal accompaniment of fast cooling air. When he stood, Edge could see directly down the trail to the twinkling lights of Anson City, looking beguilingly friendly in the wilderness surrounding the settlement. A light breeze sprung up and the horse, catching a scent of other animals, perhaps even picking up the smell of feed from the livery stable, was anxious to press on. But Edge held her back, cutting off the trail to the north, swinging a wide arc, skirting a tract of wooded countryside, halting when he drew level with the rear of the restaurant. Edge was upwind of the town now and his horse had lost interest, content to rely upon the rider for guidance. Edge slid off the saddle, led his mount into the wood and tethered her to some brush.

He took the Henry and set out on foot, heading down a grassy slope that canted towards town from the north, offering no cover whatever. But the moon was not yet high enough to prove a great deal of light and anybody below would have to be on lookout for an interloper to have a chance to spot Edge as he zigzagged downwards. But nobody was.

Edge figured it was not yet eight-o’clock, but Anson City was as quiet as a ghost town, the kerosene lamps in the saloon and hotel and restaurant providing the only sign of human habitation. There was not a soul moving on the street and the silence was absolute. But Edge senses no danger in the stillness. The town was the center of a farming community, and such folk maintained the philosophy of early to bed, early to rise.

The restaurant was the last building in town, on the opposite side of the street from where Edge stood, before it split and split again to give access to the farmstead on higher ground. As Edge peered across and in through the lighted windows, he saw a movement inside. It was Annie, tall and blonde, more attractive, in the flattering artificial light than she had been in the sheriff’s office. As she moved from a doorway at the rear of the restaurant, walked between the dozen or so tables, her hands went behind her and she shrugged out of her apron, tossed it over the back of a chair.

Edge smiled as he realized the woman was preparing to end her day’s work. But then he made a sound of annoyance, for she was not alone. Her lips moved in words which were silent to Edge, but not to another man, who had been waiting, perhaps sitting at a table, to the left of the doorway. Now he appeared, tall and broad, his right arm folded across his chest, held there by the white material of a sling. The woman smiled, the man laughed and turned his head slightly. Edge recognized Hank the deputy. Pete hadn’t plugged him very positively during the sheriff’s office shoot-out.

Annie and Hank shared the chores of snuffing out the lamps and after darkness blanketed the restaurant windows there was a time lapse that seemed to elongate into hours. But when the door finally opened Edge realized they had taken only a few moments to exchange a short kiss. Annie locked the door with a key, which she then dropped down the front of her low cut dress, between the twin swells of her breasts, which seemed to gleam white in the moonlight. Hank leaned close to here ear to whisper something and Annie gave a short laugh.

“Later,” she said, very clearly.

She linked her arm through Hank’s free arm and they stepped down off the end of the sidewalk, strolled unhurriedly out of town, he murmuring words to her which caused her to laugh a great deal. Edge gave them a twenty yard start, then set off after them, getting well clear of town before crossing the trail to move directly behind them. When they took one of the spur trails that had been cut through a stand of elms and silver birches he quickened his pace, treading carefully on the uneven ground. The couple, feeling no necessity for stealth of any kind, continued to talk and laugh, their careless feet rattling pebbles and cracking dry twigs.

Edge got close enough in the trees to see the light splash out of the woman’s white dress against the variated blackness, saw the point at which she led Hank off the trail. He quacked his step still more, and then halted, peered around a thick tree trunk to look into a natural glade, grass carpeted and ringed by brush and birches, the silvery trunks refracting the stray beams of moonlight to provide a soft, romantic illumination. The couple were on the far side, Annie leaning her back against a tree as Hank stood in front of her, free arm encircling her shoulders as he kissed her.

Edge watched indifferently for a few moments, as their passion increased, and the two bodies began to grind together. Then he moved to the left, skirting the glade, catching glimpse of the couple as the glade came into view between the trees. Once he saw them come up for air, Hank’s breath rasping with desire, Annie giving a deep sigh. Then he was behind them, with just the thickness of a tree trunk between.