My contribution to the Facebook Lancer Fan Fiction Picture Challenge
Scott pulled his bandana more tightly up over his mouth and nose and his hat down over his eyes. This was hardly the first time he and his brother had drawn drag duty on a cattle drive but he thought it must be the worst. Or maybe he always felt that way.
The sun was beginning it’s evening descent, casting a golden glow over everything in its path, cowboys, cattle, horses and the clouds of dust in the air. Clouds of dust that was becoming higher and thicker with each passing moment.
In a matter of seconds the wind whipped up causing the swirling dust and sand to fill his eyes and mouth despite the hat and bandana.
Coughing and blinking Scott looked around desperately trying to see Johnny. They had been riding close to each other only a few minutes ago. Now he couldn’t see him anywhere. Golden billows of grit surrounded him cutting him off from everything.
“Johnny!” he called as loudly as he could only to have the wind steal his words away. “Johnny!”
He had no idea where his brother was, where the herd was, or even where he himself was! His horse was prancing around in terror, not knowing which way his master wanted him to go. Scott knew the cattle were probably in the same state but he didn’t know how to get to them to help.
Suddenly a faint sound came from somewhere in front of him.
“Johnny!” He nudged his horse in the direction of the voice. What he hoped was a voice.
Together? Great idea, John. Just how…Blinking against the blinding dust he saw the shadowy form of a horse and rider. Knowing that they could be separated again in a heartbeat, he uncoiled his lasso and threw it with all his might in the direction of the form. ‘Catch it Little Brother,’ he prayed not trying to be heard. At that same moment another rope landed in his lap.
He grabbed it and wrapped it securely around his saddlehorn, feeling his own go taut at the same time. Bound together the brothers moved slowly what they hoped was forward.
As the wind died down enough to see more than an an inch in front of their faces they saw the horses and cattle mixed together being held in place by the rest of the hands. Scott untied Johnny’s rope and tossed it back to its owner. Johnny did the same and they joined the other men trying to contain the frightened animals.
Hours later, dust storm over and cattle settled, the Lancers stumbled into camp, filthy and exhausted. Without a word they clasped each other’s arm and gave a weary smile.
“Thanks, Brother,” Scott managed with a raw throat. “Without you…”
“…I’d be lost,” Johnny finished.
And they both knew how very true it was.
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