1.
St. Claire the fearless cowboy rides again with his faithful horse Mr. Grey. Both his sheriff friend Mr. Morgoyle's Colt 45 pistols are with him. Safe and sound he travels near west with a slight southwest wind in his hair. Mr. Grey guides with abundance of precision. Even facing the most dangerous persues St. Claire puts him on. Striker, wanted, dead or alive, is the fellow he's tracking and chasing. Brooing the wind it took him by surprise covering his face with his breakwind handkerchief. Mr. Grey losing balance drops St. Claire on the ground. St. Claire rolls on the sand. The sand catches Mr. Grey's eyes leaving him back kicking the air around him.
Whoa, whoa, Mr. Grey, calm down. Well, we'll catch him next time. Let us rest for now.
Sometime later after drinking some of his water and eating a piece of bread. St. Claire layed down in the sand, so did Mr. Grey, and they watched the stars. Thinking about the universe. And the whole lot of problems that came with it. But not the stars. Never the stars. They held a special place in his heart. He was sure of that. He knew to be good at what he does. And he sure darn did it. No matter how hard it seemed to him, he went on and pulled through all of it. Caring for this and that or not.
So everything worked out in the end, Mr. Grey. I know I told you I wouldn't tell you this story anymore. But since you're asking me so vibrantly I'll crack the old memory road talking 'bout that one more time.It was a quarter past ten in the evening when I met Molly in the stable back home and we made a little picnic on the hay. Molly was wearing a flower dress of the colour red and her lady shoes. My hair was well combed and cut and clean. The dirt from the past couldn't bother us no more. Eating chocolat cake her mother made for us. We lived you know, we lived. And we just wanted more and more of that feeling tingling inside our bellies. It felt nice. It had sense of mutual understanding that feeling. It can change lives, you know. It's powerful that way. Forget about all the other horsie girls in your life. You only need the one. I tell you how I feel it, Mr. Grey, you should take notice of all of it. What do you think your horsie girl would think if you'd spruce yourself up to court her like that.Umpf…, Mr. Grey would grasn when St. Claire jogged him this way with these thoughts. Don't gimme none of that, Mr. Grey. You just know I'm right 'bout this one. So, anyway, what do you think we're gonna find Striker doing when we catch him? Mr. Grey nods his head. Certainly, Mr. Grey! He's ambushing us for sure. But what are we supposed to do? We got the damn job, Mr. Grey. Sure the payment is worth it, but I made a promise Mr. Grey, and I'm getting back to Molly no matter what, or if, or how.
2.
Remembering Molly brought tears to his eyes, old St. Claire. They met on a small town called Parsons. St. Claire's father Mr. Jackson knew Molly's grandmother Belford way back in times of the Civil War and they introduced them before any of them made any previous engagement arrangements. Molly turned out to become a diligencies' nurse. Joddy her best friend from nursing school convinced her to move in with St. Claire while they prepared their marriage plans, since it was an arranged marriage. The city felt glad about that. It pleased everyone. In a polite way. When the marriage photograph smashed them together everything seemed like perfection. Harmony like they never saw before. They moved to a bigger county later called Watergate County. Also in Texas. The days passed by like bullets in the southern wind.
3.
Molly Warsom found it hard to have a lawman as a husband. What made St. Claire feel ashamed of. Their marriage is gonna last forever, said the townsfolk. It sures seems that way to both of them. After catching a bankrobber called Booth, Molly asked him not to hurt himself while on the job. He cried with that request, what Molly thanked him for. Jasper was their neighbor and came to be St. Claire's most dearest friend. Helped him set up the house for him and Molly. Took out St. Claire for drinks when Molly let them.
Right after their marriage, Molly wanted a baby, but only St. Claire knew about it. They planned to have him, yes him, Molly wanted a boy, have him when St. Claire transfered his job to someone younger. Molly was pleased with this decision. St. Claire wasn't. He was afraid of a son of his growing up in a country so filled with lawless folk around, but didn't say anything to Molly at the time. Instead he told Jasper, who was a little older than him, who told him to stop thinking about such things before they occur. Which calmed St. Claire a little more. Little Brenda, Jasper's daughter asked Molly to marry her son when they'd be grown ups like both their parents. Ariel, Jasper's wife asked Molly to name him after St. Claire's first name, which was Simon, so his name would be Simas St. Claire. Molly told that to St. Claire, what made him courageous enough to decide to leave the lawman position after they found a replacement for him. The Sheriff, Mr. Mongoyle told him he had nothing to worry about when it came to having kids. St. Claire wanted Simas to carry Molly's surname as well. Molly liked the idea. The town's office officer allowed it to be that way. He was also Brenda's language professor. They held a party to celebrate Brenda starting going to school. All the kids there found out Molly and St. Claire happy they were there. Whose couldn't stop imagining their own boy having fun with them.
Folsom Prison issued a reward on an escaping prisoner they found passed as a security guard to escape. His name was Striker.
4.
Mr. Grey woke St. Claire up because he was hungry. St. Claire gave him another piece of bread. And had one for himself of course. St. Claire loved bread. He loved food. Mr. Grey nodded his head signaling for them to go after Striker, who couldn't be far. St. Claire mounted on the horse and started tracking the, what he called, goddamned fugitive. Folsom should've warned St. Claire he was a dangerous criminal. Apart from being a madman himself. St. Claire had to wait for also Mr. Grey to pick up Striker's horse track. Apart from that they didn't find much trouble finding where they followed to. The west hills spanded for miles and miles apart. The southern wind left marks on the lawman St. Claire and on his faithful companion, Mr. Grey, the grey horse. The breakwind pointed the criminal pair couldn't've gone on any other direction than the Montgomery's farm way further ahead. St. Claire felt a rush of sickness thinking about the old Montgomery's granddaughter Nessie trying to free herself from Striker's criminal hands. That subtle sick feeling made him clap Mr. Grey to push forward faster than ever.
C'mon, Mr. Grey! Faster! He's at the old Montgomery's farm. Let's get into that ambush already.
St. Claire knew the way to the old Montgomery's farm. But it's been such a long time he didn't notice it would take so long to get there. Mr. Grey was already giving up when they got there. St. Claire was defenitely tired of all the chasing and tracking and horse riding.
The doors to the farm were strategically closed from inside. St. Claire dropped from his horse and opened the gate.
5.
St. Claire could feel the smell of the criminal in those places. Especially someone that stenches of danger. The entrance to the farm was forced because of the footprints spreading across. He led his horse to the resting area in front of the house. Already counscious of his guns in his hoists. He yelled for old Montgomery.
Ye, coming. Ye, coming. Said the old man from inside the cabin. Yes?, said the old Montgomery when opening the door to the balcony. Including the flop door itself. Yes, Mr. Montgomery, do you recall ever meeting me? I've been here a few times spreading pictures of criminals to protect the county from them. Do you, Sir, remember me?Yes, indeed I remember you. It's deputy St. Claire your name, isn't it?Yes, that's my name, sir. May I come in?Oh, sure, deputy. Make yourself at home in my farm. Here, come drink some milk I just boiled for meself. That's okay. I love milk, too. Would you have some bread for my horse? The goddamned lunatic eats only bread. I've tried feeding him some' else, but it doesn't cut it. He only cares for bread.Sure! Come inside. C'mon!Gladly to, Mr. Montgomery.
St. Claire had picked up from the actual conversation, that Striker could be holding the little Nessie girl hostage in the barn. He made his way inside the house.
This is a nice old house you have here, Mr. Montgomery. How much did it cost you?Cut the crap! Striker's holding little Nessie hostage in the barn. And you ain't doing a goddamned thing that could hurt her until you decide to free this man and get my little Nessie back to me, ya hear me?That's alright, Mr. Montgomery. I'll set him free for our sake and her safety. What else?Just that! Leave me alone!, said Mr. Montgomery. I'm setting him free now. I'm so sorry about you and Nessie. That's on me.Go!, yelled Mr. Montgomery.
So St. Claire set Striker free and took Nessie back to safety to her granddad's.