I would prefer you didn't."I let my arms drop. She held on. In a very small voice, she said, "Could we sit together on the couch inside and talk." We could even get some lunch. I have things I can fix for lunch."She nodded with a smile through her tears. We went inside. She went to the bathroom and washed her face. I stayed in the kitchen and made tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. She came in with a freshly scrubbed face and a better attitude.I said, "Tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. I have unsweetened iced tea, Cokes, and beer. I want a glass of tea. Everything will be ready in a moment." I had bowls with spoons and paper plates out. I filled two bowls and brought them to the table. I cut a sandwich in half, put it on a plate, and set it on the table. I cut everything off and moved the pots. I cut my sandwich and brought it over. I seated her and then sat down myself.She prayed for the food, the wonderful man with her, and for our talking later. I echoed her amen.. The Indian was killed when he fell with his horse."YOU COWARDS CAN'T HIDE FROM ME! I WILL KILL YOU ANY WAY I CAN! WHO WILL BE NEXT?"The Indians must have started taking Abigail seriously. This time, an Indian rode out with his coup-stick waving around his head. There were too many eagle feathers to count tied to the staff. This was a truly accomplished warrior! It was obvious that he was no threat as long as he was brandishing his coup-stick as he rode toward Abigail. He was riding neither very fast nor very slowly, just at a comfortable lope. He got quite close to the shed without drawing any fire, but he was watched closely. He stopped about 50 feet from Abigail and let out a loud war whoop, celebrating his own bravery. He wheeled his horse around and walked it slowly back toward his fellows while singing a song of triumph.Abigale let him get about 30 yards away before she raised her pistol. Taking a careful aim, she squeezed the trigger and blew the warrior's head into a bloody.
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