New Eyes

“Will they find us here?” the young girl asked as they stopped at a ledge on the side of the mountain. The old cowboy dismounted, looking back to the hidden trail that led them there.  

“Only if they know this terrain as much as I do,” he smirked. The girl frowned with concern, saying nothing. “Don’t worry, darlin’. Ain’t none of em gon’ find us here,” he said as he unpacked their beds and supplies. The young girl stroked the horse gently. Her hands were full of thanks for the safe ride. The cowboy walked up, giving his horse a small biscuit from his pack. He untacked his horse and loosely tied it to a branch, patting its neck as it lowered its head to the grass and ate. 

“It’s cold here,” the girl said, hugging herself in her thin coat. “When will we start the fire?” The cowboy looked into her lifeless eyes with sadness, as she stood staring past him, with ears fully attentive to hear. 

“Just in case they see us, we can’t be makin’ no campfire right now. Apologies darlin’, we’re gon’ have to wait until the sun comes up to get warmer,” he responded, taking her by the hand and leading her to the bed laid out for her. Realizing how cold her hands were, he took his jacket off and covered her.  

“Thank you, mister,” she responded, lowering her face into the tobacco-smelling jacket to hide from the cold, listening to the old cowboy sigh heavily as he sat down.  

“Will I see my father again?” she asked melancholy. 

“We’ll both see him again. I’m sure he’s waitin' right now at your house, with your mother. When we go to her, we’ll see him there, don’t you worry yourself, darlin’.” He reassured her, but he really wasn’t sure. Praying that his old friend was waiting for them. The old cowboy tried to get the dreadful thought out of his head. Her father, his friend, defended them as they ran from the attacking gang.  

“How do you know my father?” She asked into the jacket.  

“Well, long time ago, I was good friends with your parents. We lost touch over the years, but I’m glad your father found me when he did.” He said huskily, trying to rest against a large rock.  

“Knew them from where?” she asked.  

“We all grew up together,” he shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot to lay his head. “Came from the same town and such, your parents and my family.”  

“My parents ain’t never talk of you before, mister. Pardon me sayin’,” she voiced quietly. The old cowboy looked down with guilt, rubbing his neck as he tried to find the words. He did not have the guts to confess his past as an outlaw, his life riddled with sinful desires for riches and power. A feared man is not a man that is trusted, so for his dear friend, he kept it to himself.  

“As time goes on, friends drift apart, just a sign of gettin' old,” he responded, hoping that would be it. Suddenly, there was movement in the bushes behind them. The young girl yelped at the sudden noise. The cowboy shot up like lightning, his gun at the ready halfway out of the holster. He narrowed his eyes to see in the darkness. Silence, only the sound of his horse shifting from side to side in nervousness. In that second, a raccoon burst out from the bush and scurried off into the night. The cowboy eased up and sighed, walking to comfort his horse with gentle pats and soft-spoken reassurances, and sat back down in his place.  

“Was that them?” The young girl asked, head up. Listening for an answer.  

“No, just a lil’ rodent prolly tryna snag somethin’ to eat.” He said, still on edge and unable to settle down and rest. She sighed with relief and lowered her face again from the cold.  

“Speakin’ of rodents, you hungry?” He asked. 

“What do ya have?” she lifted her face from the warmth.  

“I got some, dried fruits, some jerky. Uh, some of these dry biscuits.” He answered as he dug through his pack.  

“I’m good. Maybe in a little while when I’m too hungry to resist some dry biscuits.” She said with a small smile, shifting the jacket closer around her neck. The cowboy let out a chuckle and pulled out a piece of jerky to chew on. The tension from their escape had eased up and now they could rest in the woods' silence. The mountain life was as alive as ever. The call of the owl from high above. The wind rustled in the trees all around. The wolves howled in the distance. The wild was having a conversation of its own.  

“You think we got away fast enough?” she asked, remembering the sound of the gunshots flying all around. The thunderous pounding of the many horses surrounding them. She prayed that they had gotten far away enough. 

“The coast seems to be clear,” he said in between his bites of jerky, “we ain’t got to worry, darlin’. I’ll keep you safe.” The small reassurance he gave her made her smile, even when she knew the truth. Nowhere was truly safe. Only their quiet conversation on the ledge of the mountain. The jacket no longer barricading her from the cold air, she reached out to find the edge of her bed, dragging it slowly closer to where she could feel him sitting, and sat right beside him 

“You mind, mister? It’s awfully cold, and my father always warmed me up by his side every winter when we’d talk.” She spoke through shivers as the jacket slipped off her shoulder. He sat hesitantly for a moment, but then took up his blanket and covered both of them, scooping her up to his side. The motion of her pressing closer to him brought back a memory from his younger years. All those nights ago, a little sister, out with the brothers at the campfire. It had been a long time since he felt that warmth. 

“What does it look like?” the girl asked. The cowboy looked at her questioningly.  

“Watcha’ mean?” He asked.  

“The wild,” she replied, “What does the wild look like from where we’re sitting?” He looked out at the scenery; the normal scene he always sees everywhere he goes.  

“It’s dark, the ol’ mountains stretched here and there, the trees, the animals,” he said, “the same you see everywhere else.”  

“The same as I see?” she laughed.  

“Uh, I didn’t mean- It wasn’t in that sense-” He stumbled over his words with a shy chuckle.  

“I won’t be able to see it unless you show me what it looks like, in a way I can see too,” she said.  

“Well, I’m not so sure how to explain it any different,” he said, thinking hard of how to describe something he’s never thought of like that before. The land before him has been the same his whole life, there was nothing special about it.  

The night sky began to fade as the sun rose over the mountains before them, shining its light toward their faces.  

“That warmth. The sun is comin' out, isn’t it?” She asked, “What about startin' with that, what does the sun look like?” The old cowboy looked up to the sunrise, the way it lit up the forest before them in an instant. He forced himself to look at the details that he had never noticed before. For her.  

“The sun is bright; ya can’t look at it. It’s beginnin' to light up everythin' else now. All the trees looked a dark mass bunched together at nighttime but now with the sun, you can see the peaks of different trees all aroun',” he paused for a moment, not sure what else to say. He continued to look, “The sky is full of fluffy cotton-like clouds. They’re not white, they’re golden and yellow. The mountain is dark like a grey rock.”  

“White is cold, like snow, and grey is tough like a stone; my father taught me that,” she said quietly, remembering her father’s last touch as he held her tight. “Yellow is soft like my old cat who would sit next to me when I would get warm by the fireplace and listen to my mama play the piano; my mama taught me to play a bit. She makes me feel like the color yellow.”  

“Huh, I never knew she played,” he said to himself.  

“What’s golden like?” she asked, lowering the jacket so she could feel the sun on her face more. The cowboy furrowed his brow, unsure of how to answer her question. The only answer he could think of was the bounty that would be given for the girl's return. Solid gold bars they would give him for escorting the girl back to her mother, they told him. However, that wasn’t the kind of gold he wanted to tell her about, to associate with the sunrise. He continued to think, as the sun began to rise even brighter above the mountaintop.  

“That hard of a color, huh?” She asked.  

“Yeah, it’s a little hard to describe.” He chuckled softly.  

“Well, what’s it make you feel when you look at it?” she asked. 

He paused again and stared at the landscape before him. Watching the sunrise was always something he did with his siblings and friends when they went out camping or hunting. His siblings and friends were now long gone, wanting nothing to do with him, and he had never thought to notice another sunrise since.  

“It’s a beautiful feelin’ missy. It feels like bein’ with family.” He answered softly. A single tear shed down his cheek as they sat there. One day we’ll forget all this and we will be together again, he thought. 

“Family,” she said back, wondering if she would ever see her parents again. They sat still for a few moments more.  

“I think I’ll take that dry biscuit now, please.” The young girl said, the old cowboy laughed and handed her a biscuit from his pack.