Bed of Roses by Rebecca Paisley

fact, if he were any more relaxed he’d be dead. He’s only sunning himself, and he’s not at all upset that I’m standing beside him. He’s the one who approached me, remember? Snakes don’t go around looking for people to bite, you know.”
    She stared at him again, unable to believe what she was hearing. “My ears are telling lies.”
    “You can’t believe your ears,” he translated. Without a sound Sawyer turned around and looked down at the snake. Then, with equally slow and silent movements, he stuck the twig beneath the middle of the snake’s body.
    Wide-eyed and incredulous, Zafiro watched him flick the snake back into the woods as if the creature were naught but an earthworm. The resulting crackle of leaves told her that the snake’s landing had been a soft one.
    “There,” Sawyer said, tossing the stick into the stream, “he vanished.”
    The snake might have vanished, but Zafiro’s amazement did not. Never in her life had she seen a man confront danger with such aplomb. Not even her grandfather, the brave Ciro, had ever demonstrated such total control when faced with peril.
    “You are really and truly him,” she murmured.
    “Him? Who him?”
    “The man God has sent.”
    “You’ve been around Saint Pedro too long.”
    “I was sure before, but now I am more sure than ever. You will reteach the men their lost skills, Sawyer. After weeks of practicing with you, they will once again be the proficient men they used to—”
    “Wait,” Sawyer said, holding up his hand to stop her flow of chatter. “Wait just a minute. Are you saying you want me to turn back time? Transform your men into the young, strong, and able outlaws they used to be? That’s what you need me for?”
    She didn’t speak, but he saw her answer in her eyes, eyes that had become luminous with pleasure and relief. She did expect him to do the impossible!
    The drunk Maclovio. The deaf and sleepy Lorenzo. And the holier-than-thou false apostle Pedro.
    She really and truly believed the aged outlaws could skip back over the decades!
    Sawyer smiled. And then, within a split second, he threw back his head and laughed out loud. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed, but the amusement he felt over her plans was so great that he could not stem it no matter how he tried.
    “You think I am teasing,” Zafiro said. "That your leg is stretched.”
    A while passed before his laughter faded sufficiently for him to speak. “That you’re pulling my leg?” He chuckled again. “Listen, I know you well enough now to know you’re dead serious, but if you think for one minute that I’m going to try and turn those three bumbling grandsires back into skilled gunmen… For that, you don’t need a man sent from God, Zafiro, you need God Himself.”
    With a wave of her hand she brushed away his words as if they were nothing but bothersome insects. “You are making hills out of mountains of moles.”
    “Making mountains out of molehills is exactly what it would be like to turn your gang back into able-bodied—”
    “You will make us all ready. Not only the men, but Tia, Azucar, and myself, too. There is no reason I can think of why the women and I cannot learn to protect ourselves. Oh, Sawyer,” she whispered, holding out her hands in a gesture of extreme gratitude, “you will take care of us. Finally, at last long, someone is here to make sure that no harm comes to us.”
    For many moments he merely gawked at her. No words would come to him, not a one.
    He was too busy concentrating on what she’d told him.
    Finally, at last long, someone is here to make sure that no harm comes to us.
    From deep, deep within him rose a vehement aversion to the idea. He almost felt sickened by it. Indeed, his stomach pitched, his forehead beaded with sweat, and his pulse quickened.
    “No. I can’t take care of anyone, do you understand? I can’t…can’t keep any of you from harm.” Battling to quell the horrible and incomprehensible