Spirit Horses by Alan Evans Page A

He turned
to defend himself only to realize he was now dealing with two men, both
throwing punches at him at the same time. These two were a bit smaller than the
first. Shane threw a quick, but well-aimed, uppercut that knocked one of them
out cold. The one still standing was a better fighter, but his punches had no
real power and did little damage. Shane saw an opportunity and took advantage
by kicking the remaining attacker in the groin as hard as he could. The man
doubled over groaning in pain and held up his hand. He’d had enough.
    Shane thought he had everything under control, but
suddenly felt a stinging crack to the back of his head. Someone had taken a
rake handle out of the truck’s bed and broken it across his skull. This time it
was Shane dropping to his knees. His bell had been rung good, but somehow he
was able to keep himself from blacking out.
    While he was struggling to maintain consciousness,
he heard the girl’s truck engine start. With the guys focused on the fight, the
girl had been able to slip into her driver’s seat.
    Shane looked up to see the men scatter as she drove
her truck right through the middle of the drunken mob blowing her horn. With
tires squealing, she raced up beside Shane who was still on his knees. The old
truck came to a sliding halt as the passenger-side door swung open.
    “Come on, get in�—�NOW!” she begged.
Shane staggered up and crawled into the truck cab as the woman floored the gas
pedal. In the rearview mirror, she could see the men were shaking their fists,
giving them the finger, and throwing rocks at her accelerating truck, but she
was already out of range.
    Though badly outnumbered Shane had held his own, but
he was sure glad the girl had gotten him out of there when she did.
    “Are you okay?” she asked, as she sped out of town.
    “Yeah, I’ll live.”
    The woman then shook her head. “Mister, you should
have stayed out of it. They weren’t going to hurt me. I’m not afraid of those
idiots.”
    “Yeah, well maybe you should be,” Shane said, as he
wiped the blood from the back of his head and grimaced.
    She handed him a handkerchief and said again, “You
shouldn’t have gotten involved. I could have handled it.”
    “Ma’am,” Shane replied angrily, “I watched the whole
thing from a distance before I came over, and I didn’t throw the first punch
either! Those guys were pretty drunk. There’s no telling what they might have
done to you. You know, where I come from, people tend to say thank you when
someone helps them.”
    The woman remained quiet for a few moments. “I have
to get home so tell me where to drop you off.”
    Shane thought for a minute. “My truck is at the
motel in town, but I don’t think we want to go there now. Can you take me to a
friend’s house a few miles east of town?” He felt sure Mr. Jensen would take
him to get his truck later on.
    “Okay, but I have to get home. My grandfather needs
the prescription I just picked up.” The girl knew the area well and took a
shortcut. Soon they were pulling into the Jensen’s driveway.           
    Shane slowly got out of the truck, dealing with one
hell of a headache. As soon as his feet hit the ground, the dizziness
overwhelmed him. The woman quickly jumped out of the truck and ran around to
help.
    “Hang on and I’ll get you to the house.”
    Shane slowly, with the pain pounding in his head,
gave a slight nod. The paddock fence where Tory and Sloppy were staying was
only about thirty feet away. As the woman helped Shane get his bearings, the
two trotted over.
    “Those horses seem to know you,” she said as she
helped him find his balance.
    “Yes ma’am, they’re mine. I’m boarding them here for
a few days. Hey lady,” Shane said, as the horses followed them up the fence,
“what kind of Indian are you?”
    She shook her head and gave him a hard look.
    “You obviously aren’t from around here.”
    “No, ma’am,” he replied a bit defensively. “You