The trail to Ogallala was a bit quicker going cross country, than the main road used by wagons, the stagecoach, mail riders from Kansas City, and of course farmers.

“Which way?” yelled Colt to his older brother Bart, coming to the fork in the road.

They stopped riding to talk for a minute, as if the decision was major.

“You are in a hurry, I suppose the horse trail going cross country,” said Colt.

“Nah, I’m not in any hurry. I told you that, so you would work faster doin the chores.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep…you pissed?”

“Nah.”

“Okay, let’s take the main road and ride into town like ordinary people.”

Colt asked his brother Bart, what he meant by – “Ordinary people?”

There is the stagecoach up ahead. We can trail behind it like settlers going to town for supplies. You know – ordinary,” explained Bart.

“Geeze, that’s crazy. Never mind, let’s get movin. I can taste that cold beer right abought now.”

“Brother Colt, you never fail to amaze me,” mumbled Bart, kicking his horse to start moving. “A cold beer – how about that?”

The stagecoach pulled into Ogallala with Bart and Colt following a fair ways behind it.

They were vigilant about making mistakes. Their pa taught them what should pass for logic.  Travelling by horseback, behind a stagecoach, was a poor idea. With a coach pulled by six galloping horses, the air was loaded with flying dust.

“You messed up this time,” Colt teased his brother about the last four mile to Ogallala.

“I’m obliged to apologize. I wasn’t thinkin so good about trail dust,” admitted Bart.

They tied their horses to a hitching rail in front of a store selling hardware and farm supplies.

“Say, old timer, do you know where I can find the harness shop?” asked Colt.

“Yup.”

“Well, where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“The harness shop?”  Colt repeated himself.

“Ain’t got none,” making no sense whatsoever.

A woman came from of the hardware caring an armful of packages. Bart noticed immediately she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. She was overly friendly, something proper women avoided with strangers.

“The harness shop is part of the livery stable,” she exclaimed. “Pay no mind to old Lucas. He is the town drunk, and most of the time he thinks it’s Tuesday. Believe me; I know a lot about drunks.”

“What special about Tuesday,” asked Bart?

“Funny you should ask, because nobody has the faintest idea.” A package tumbled from her arms and landed in front of Bart, who scooped it up immediately.

“It looks like you could use a little help with those packages. Suppose I walk along, and carry them for you,” he suggested.

“Why that would be lovely. My name is Iris.”

“I’m Bart, and this is Colt, my brother.” He pointed towards Colt, who had pranced away on horseback trotting towards the Livery stable. “Anyway over yonder is Colt. He is looking for the harness shop. I’m just looking.”

“How interesting,” Iris replied. “I love a man who knows what he wants.”

As they walked along Iris watched the packed butt, on Bart move with every step. She checked his crotch, seeing a wad of pork in the duds he wore.

“Oh, you’ll do fine, just fine,” she said.

“I will, fine for what,” asked Bart hoping she was saying what he was thinking. She looked like a decent girl, but probably a whore. Perhaps this would be a score for him. When she stopped in front of the saloon, he knew he was right about that.

“This is it, good looking. I have room upstairs over the bar. I work here nights. If you have five buck for a bottle, and two buck more, we can have a drink in my room, if you’re up to it?” she whispered in a sexy voice.

Bart’s loins were hot as a pistol just hearing her talk. His cock, was hard, and filled his pants like a lonely man’s adventure come true.

“Oh yeah, I have cash.”

“Let’s go; we can use the back stairs.”

******

At the livery stable, a burly looking owner was outside, rubbing down a weary horse ridden hard and wet with moisture. A rider had just left him to be cooled off, watered and fed.

“Howdy,” said Colt.

“Tie ‘em over there, it’s 50 cents a day, watered and fed. Oats is extra. Or three dollars a week for stabling.” He said to Cody.

“I don’t need my horse stabled; I am looking for some information.”

“Information is no charge,” said Earl, the stable owner.

“How do I find the harness shop?”

“What fer?”

I have a broken harness that needs reattaching, or sewing, however it’s done,” explained Cody.

“Yu found em; I run the harness shop too. Give me the harness and get back here by 4:00 o’clock. She’ll be ready.”

“How much” asked Cody.

“A dollar!”

“Too much, I’ll give you 50 cents.”

“Make it 75 cents, and she’s as good as done,” babbled Earl examining the leather.

“Deal,” agreed Colt. “Say, old timer, I have a question.”

“Let her rip, cost you a dime.” He replied.

“What happed to no charge for information?”

“That’s for information – questions are different.”

“Of course, they are….I ‘m looking for Abe who works in the harness shop.”

“Only got one Abe. Whatcha need him fer,” asked Earl?

“I gotta do some jawin, about gold in Colorado. Bragged Colt, enjoying the game with Earl.

“What gold?” mumbled Earl with his breathing increasing?

“That will cost you a dime,” replied Colt.

“Are you crazy? Forget it, not interested.” Earl babbled disappearing with the harness that Colt needed repaired. He popped back out and said, try the pool hall.”

******

Colt tingled remembering the image of Abe naked. He could kick himself for passing up that opportunity; but he didn’t trust him at the time.

There was a voice in his head shouting, “YES.” Colt was young and inexperienced but he recognized, “Yes” when he saw it.

“Hum, try the pool hall.”  That made sense, pool was a given, most all the cowpokes shot pool.

He trotted along the main street looking for a sign saying “Pool” when he spotted a Barbershop with the word, “Pool” below it.

Colt strutted inside like a seasoned dude walking the cowboy walk. Sure, enough, Abe was bending over making a shot at the table.

“Oh good lord,” thought Colt. “Here I go again, dang look at the stacked beef on that man? Not too big and not too small, just plum pickin right for playing hide the pecker. No Jospin, this was a finger poking good butt.

Colt thought of sitting down and hiding his erection, but decided against it. Hell, these dudes have seen young men get aroused before, so why hide.

Colt stood behind Abe and perhaps a little too close for well-being.

“Hey, fella, can you back up, you’re crowding my shot,” said Abe not realizing it was Colt.

Abe made a final shot and the game was over. He stayed quiet seeing Colt, but they connected immediately, for a cold beer.

“This is a crazy dang town,” began Colt. “You can get a haircut, shoot pool and get a beer all in the same building.”

“Abe paid no attention. He had different things on his mind. 

 “Do you like me? Abe asked.

“Like you? – Sure, why, am I doin something wrong?”

“Not from what I see,” replied Abe, standing proudly, a man of courage.

“Let’s ride out to “Sage Bush” creek. It’s shady with trees and quiet,” said Abe, gently touching Colt’s hand.

“Okay, you’re touching the right person,” smiled Colt. “Let’s ride.” 

******

To be continued……