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That morning, the air was cool, heavy with the smell of wet grass and the smoke of the fire still smoldering beneath the ashes from the night before.
Micah was the first to poke his head out of the tent, his hair still a mess. He stretched long and slow, his shoulders popping, then ran a hand over his face before letting out a quiet laugh, thinking back on what had just gone down in that tent.
Behind him, Elisabeth stepped out as well, absent-mindedly straightening her shirt and tying up her brown hair in a quick, careless knot. She glanced at him when she caught that satisfied grin he wasn't even trying to hide.
Micah looked her up and down, looking downright pleased with himself.
— Well now… you sure know what you're doin'.
He grabbed a dented little coffee pot from the saddlebags near the fire.
— Now that's the kind of wake-up that puts a man in a fine mood for the whole damn day.
He crouched by the embers, stirred the ashes with a stick, and tossed in a few twigs. The fire slowly came back to life, crackling under the coffee pot he set over it.
Elisabeth rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips.
— You are unbearable.
Micah chuckled.
— Maybe.
He turned toward her, blue eyes sparkling with easy insolence.
— But you didn't seem too bothered about it five minutes ago.
She gave him a small kick in the leg as she walked past him, which only made him laugh harder.
The fire grew stronger, and soon the smell of coffee began mixing with the scent of the morning. Micah leaned back against a saddle lying on the ground, his legs stretched out in front of him, watching Elisabeth like she was the most interesting sight in the whole prairie. That satisfied grin was still there.
— You know, Lizzie…
He took the cup he'd just filled with scalding coffee and blew across the surface.
— If all our mornings start like that, I might just stop complainin' when we gotta leave the bed before noon.
He looked up at her over the rim of his cup. She answered with a crooked little smile.
— Maybe.
He took a sip, then added with a mischievous grin,
— Well… best enjoy it while we can. 'Cause this afternoon I figure we'll find ourselves another town to rob.
He nodded toward the endless plains around them.
— And I guarantee this country ain't ready for the two of us.
The fire had burned down to nothing but red embers by the time they finished breaking camp. The coffee pot was already cooling in a saddlebag. The blanket rolled up, the tent nearly taken down. The horses pawed the ground softly, eager to get moving again.
The young man was tightening the last saddle strap when a sound caught his attention.
Hoofbeats.
Slow.
Deliberate.
He lifted his head.
Three riders had just come out from the tree line about fifty yards away. The kind of men you ran into too often on roads like these: dusty coats, rifles slung over their shoulders, and looks that weighed heavier than their guns.
They approached without hurry, and Micah straightened up fully. Behind him, Elisabeth understood right away that something wasn't right.
The first rider swung down from his horse as he reached the camp. Tall, dark-haired, well into his thirties, a clean scar cutting across his left cheek. His green eyes slowly swept over the camp before settling on Micah.
A small smile crept onto his face.
The other two stayed mounted behind him, and one of them was already snickering.
— Well would you look at that…
His gaze slid toward Elisabeth before returning to Micah.
— That's just a kid.
The other man burst out laughing.
— Yeah… and look what he's got with him.
Their eyes settled on the young woman with heavy insistence.
Elisabeth felt her stomach knot, but her face stayed calm. She simply took a step back to stand behind Micah, almost instinctively, as if her body already knew where it belonged.
Micah didn't move. He stood straight, broad-shouldered, slightly turned to the side. His hand was already resting on the grip of his revolver, not drawn yet—but ready.
His blue eyes moved slowly from one man to the next, cold, calculating.
The leader took another step forward. His gaze drifted back to Elisabeth, then to Micah.
He looked him over from head to toe.
— You're a long way from any town, boy.
His voice was calm. Almost amused.
Behind him, one of the men said,
— He ain't gonna do much when we take the girl.
Another crude laugh followed.
— Yeah… looks like we just hit the jackpot.
Micah's expression shifted—just slightly. The smile was gone now, but he still said nothing. His fingers tightened a little more around the grip of his gun.
Behind him, Elisabeth could feel the tension in his back. She was afraid—terribly afraid—but she showed none of it. Her hand simply caught the red fabric of Micah's shirt behind him.
The leader noticed the gesture and raised an amused eyebrow.
— Well now… look at that.
He spat to the side.
— She's hidin' behind her little blond.
The other two laughed again, and Micah slowly raised his eyes to meet his.
He finally spoke.
His voice was low, calm, dangerously calm.
— You boys oughta turn around…
A silence fell over the camp, and the leader tilted his head slightly.
— Or what?
The wind moved through the tall grass around them. Micah didn't even blink, his hand still resting on his revolver.
— Or I'm gonna bury you right here.
The leader's smile widened. Behind him, one of the men was already reaching for his rifle, and for one suspended second, in the middle of the silent plains, everyone understood the next move would decide who rode away alive.
Silence pressed down over the prairie, the wind making the tall grass ripple around the half-packed camp.
No one moved.
Micah's hand still rested on the grip of his revolver. The leader was about to speak, but Micah was faster.
The motion was almost invisible.
A flash of metal.
Two shots cracked through the morning air in quick succession, and the two men on horseback didn't even have time to understand what was happening.
The first man toppled backward out of his saddle, his hat flying off into the grass. The second barely had time to open his mouth before the bullet slammed into him and threw him sideways. Their horses, spooked, bolted off across the prairie at a wild gallop.
The sound of bodies hitting the tall grass landed heavy… and then the silence came back.
The leader stood frozen for a second. His eyes moved slowly from the two corpses… to Micah.
Now that… that was real surprise.
He clearly hadn't expected the young blond to draw that fast. A disbelieving chuckle slipped out of him.
He shook his head.
— Well now…
He clapped slowly. Two lazy, sarcastic claps.
— Guess the kid knows how to handle a revolver.
Then his gaze drifted past Micah… to Elisabeth standing behind him.
And his smile changed. Darker? Meaner.
— Shame about them…
He ran his tongue over his dry lips.
— Could've shared.
Elisabeth felt her stomach tighten, but she stayed still behind Micah.
Micah's hand, meanwhile, hadn't moved.
The leader took a step to the side, slowly circling the bodies of his men. His eyes never left Elisabeth now.
— Ain't had a woman in days…
His voice dropped lower.
— And that one…
He looked her over without the slightest bit of shame.
— She's worth the wait.
Then he lifted his eyes back to Micah, a cruel grin curling on his lips.
— I'll be honest with you, kid.
He nodded toward Elisabeth with his chin.
— You step aside… and I take the girl.
He shrugged.
— Hell, I might even let you watch me fuckin' her. And after that, I promise I'll kill you quick.
The wind picked up between them but Micah didn't move an inch. His blue eyes had turned ice cold. And slowly, very slowly, a smile spread across his face, not an amused smile but a dangerous one.
He raised his gun toward the man.
— You sure do talk a lot.
The leader snorted and drew his own revolver.
— And you're mighty brave for a boy.
He took another step forward, his gun aimed straight at the pair. Behind Micah, Elisabeth felt his shoulders tighten.
Then Micah's voice came down calm and sharp as a blade.
— Bad idea.
But the man kept walking.
And now there were only two men left standing in the prairie.
The man kept staring Micah down.
— Gotta admit something though.
He shook his head, almost impressed.
— You're fast, kid.
Micah didn't answer right away. His piercing eyes stayed locked on him, hard as stone.
Then he spoke, calm and steady.
— Here's what we're gonna do.
The leader raised an eyebrow and Micah tilted his head slightly toward Elisabeth behind him.
— If you beat me…
His voice stayed perfectly cold.
— You take the girl.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop.
Behind him, Elisabeth felt her heart drop.
— What?!
Her hand grabbed the back of Micah's shirt.
— Micah, are you crazy ?!
But he didn't even look at her. His eyes stayed fixed on the man across from him, a look of pure challenge like nothing else in the world existed.
The leader burst out in a deep laugh.
— Oh now… I like that.
He looked at Elisabeth with a wicked grin.
— You hear that, sweetheart?
His eyes gleamed with a filthy light.
— Your little blondie just put you on the table.
Elisabeth gripped the fabric at Micah's back tighter, fear in her eyes but Micah still didn't move.
The leader went on, mocking:
— You don't stand a chance, kid.
His gaze slid down to Elisabeth again.
— But don't you worry…
A cruel smile tugged at his mouth.
— I'll take real good care of her. And when I'm done… well, maybe I'll even put a baby in her.
Elisabeth felt anger rise in her chest, tangled with fear but before she could say a word, the man slowly slid his revolver back into its holster.
— Go on then.
He spread his arms slightly.
— Come fight like a man.
He leaned hard on the word, thick with sarcasm.
— If you really are one.
A wild smile spread across Micah's face and without warning, he shoved Elisabeth backward with a rough motion.
She lost her balance and fell into the grass behind him.
— Micah!
But he was already gone from her, his hand dove to his belt and the blade of his knife flashed for a split second in the morning light—
Then he lunged at the man like a predator unleashed and for one suspended second in the still prairie air, no one yet knew which of the two men would fall.
The impact was brutal.
The two men crashed into the grass like a pair of beasts throwing themselves at each other. Micah's knife flashed in a bright arc in the morning light. The leader had been ready — his own blade appeared almost instantly, and the two knives struck together with a sharp, dry clang.
The fight turned at once into a brutal, close, breathless struggle. They circled each other in the prairie, searching for an opening.
Micah struck fast, real fast, but the other man was bigger, heavier, and clearly used to this kind of fight.
The blade swept past within inches of Micah's throat. He stepped back.
The man grinned.
— Well now, kid…
He feinted, trying to drive his knife into Micah's ribs. The blade only tore the fabric of his shirt.
— That all you got?
Behind them, Elisabeth, still on the ground in the grass, hardly dared breathe.
The two men closed the distance again and their shoulders slammed together. The leader tried to grab Micah's arm to disarm him, and they nearly rolled in the grass, knives probing for any weakness. Micah's breathing grew shorter, but his eyes stayed bright — almost excited.
The man shoved him back hard and Micah stumbled a step. The tip of the enemy's knife stopped a few inches from his stomach.
The leader snickered.
— Reckon you lost, blondie.
A second passed between them — just one. Then Micah smiled. A slow, dangerous smile.
His left hand suddenly dropped to his holster, and before the man even understood what was happening, the gunshot cracked at point-blank range.
The report echoed across the whole prairie and the man's body stiffened. His eyes flew wide. The bullet had struck him square in the gut, and the knife slipped from his fingers.
He staggered and almost collapsed against the young man, who caught him briefly by the shoulders. Blood was already soaking through the tall guy's shirt.
He lifted his eyes to Micah, his breathing shattered.
— You dirty dog… you… cheated…
Micah looked down at him, the smile still hanging on his lips.
— Yeah.
He shrugged slightly.
— So?
The man's legs gave out and Micah let him drop without effort. The body fell heavily into the grass. The man tried to breathe again, his hand pressing uselessly against the wound.
Micah stood over him, watching him die without the slightest trace of compassion.
— Should've kept riding. Nobody takes what's mine.
The man's breathing turned ragged, his eyes slowly emptied.
Then he died.
Micah spat on the body.
— Dumb bastard.
Then he turned away.
Elisabeth was still in the grass where he had shoved her.
When he reached her, he held out a hand to pull her up. She took it and rose, her eyes shining with a mix of anger and fear — and once she was on her feet, without warning, her hand struck Micah across the face.
The crack of the slap rang in the air.
— You little bastard!
Her voice trembled.
— You wagered me!
Micah stood still for a second, his head turned slightly from the blow. Then he slowly lifted his face again, a brazen grin returning to his lips.
— Easy now.
He brushed his fingers over the red mark on his cheek.
— I had it under control.
Elisabeth stared at him, incredulous.
— You could've died!
Micah chuckled softly.
— Me?
He glanced toward the three bodies lying in the grass, then looked back at her with that defiant look that seemed stitched to his skin.
— Lizzie…
He tilted his head slightly.
— I never lose.
And in that exact moment, he truly believed it.
Elisabeth stayed silent for a moment, her breath still quick, her fist clenched against her hip. Anger burned in her eyes, but she knew no answer would calm Micah in that state. He was still standing there, straight, body tense, his eyes shining with a pride almost childish — as if he had just pulled off some feat whose importance only he could understand.
— You're insane… she muttered.
— Maybe… he replied, a mocking smile at the corner of his mouth.
— But you never once doubted I'd get you outta that mess, did you?
Elisabeth didn't answer. She simply crossed her arms, brow furrowed.
But deep down, she knew he was right.
Micah never lost — or at least, he didn't believe it was possible.
And that certainty, as crazy as it was, was exactly what made him both terrifying — and fascinating.