And the nominees are:
|
Author and story |
Scene/Story |
Nominator and motivation |
Nina |
What was that? There, in the straw - something reddish brown. Jimmy bent down to take a closer look. A gloved hand pushed the straw away to reveal the blood-stained floor. How had it gotten there? No one had been injured in Sampson's stall. And if they had they would have cleaned up the mess afterwards. Jimmy pushed away more straw to reveal more blood. Upon closer investigation he guessed the blood to be less than two hours old. What had happened? Looking around for evidence he found small specs of blood covering the floor. Strange that someone had taken greater pains in cleaning that up. The small specs led the way to the small room where saddles and such were kept. Evidence of whose blood it was must be in here somewhere.
In the same way Buck would track, Jimmy carefully searched the room for clues to whose blood it was. He couldn't find anything except for some old bandages that Ike had used to support his knee after he'd injured it breaking a horse. The thing about the bandages was that they looked like they hadn't been used for support - but rather for stopping a bleeding wound. |
Karen With a scene like that at the beginning, how can the reader not be drawn in? |
Jo |
Shauna | |
Nina |
It was dawn and Jimmy was still not home. With a heavy heart, Buck went out looking. He followed the tracks to the graveyard. Jimmy sat with his knees drawn up under his chin leaning against the back of a tombstone. The grave said ‘Polly Butler Hickok’. Right next to it the stone read ‘William Alonzo Hickok’. Buck sat down next to Jimmy. “Do you want to go home?” Buck asked softly. Jimmy didn't answer. He just looked down at his knees. Buck took his jacket off and put it over Jimmy's shoulders. Jimmy pulled the jacket closer around him. “Celinda told me that you saw your father murdered.” Buck was sure he was overstepping some invisible line, but for Celinda's sake, he needed to know. “If you think that last night was about father getting killed, you're wrong.” Jimmy spat it out as if the words were poison. “I'm sorry.” Buck took a short pause. “Do you want to talk about it?” “It might help,” Buck offered and put a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. “I don't know.” Jimmy didn't flinch at the touch like he had the night before. Buck took a couple of deep breaths before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a package about the size of a hand. “Here, I want you to have this.” Jimmy looked at the roughly wrapped package before looking up at Buck. Carefully, Jimmy unwrapped it and looked at the contents. “What is it?” he wondered. “It's a dreamcatcher. You hang it over your bed. The good dreams get caught in the net while the bad dreams fall through the middle. The feathers represents the air and the four directions. The eagle feather is for courage and the owl feather is for wisdom. I've had it since I was a kid, but you need it more.” “I can't take this.” Jimmy handed the dreamcatcher back to Buck. “You've had this since you were a kid.” “And now I'm giving it to you.” Buck put the item in Jimmy's hand and closed his friend's fingers around it. Jimmy looked at the object in front of him. The strings inside the hoop looked like a cobweb, and several feathers hung from the bottom of the hoop. “I know you probably think it’s stupid…” They sat silently for a few moments. “Ever think you were lucky to get outta Rock Creek?” “You mean because of Ike?” Buck asked. “Yeah, I feel that way... sometimes.” “Just wait till you’re gone for awhile.” Jimmy told him. “It’ll be hell if we ever go back. Difference is, you’ve got some good memories back there too.” |
Dani This is a continuation of Never Going Back There. It further explores the deep friendship between Jimmy and Buck, with Buck being able to return the favor, after Jimmy pulled him back from the brink of despair a few month prior. I love the friendship between the two, and think Jimmy's character development is done very well. Great story |
Cindy |
Buck rode into the scene of the carnage, fighting the impulse to gag. The fire that had burned the coach was mostly just smoldering smoke now, but the nauseating smell of charred flesh permeated the air. He didn’t even bother checking the blackened body lying right next to the wagon for signs of life. Kneeling beside the first body, he felt for a pulse or any sign of breathing. It wasn’t surprising that he didn’t find either - the man had several bullet wounds in his back, and an arrow sticking out of his side. He moved on to the next body, another man, older and very well dressed. Not that his expensive attire had made any difference. He was just as dead as the first man was. Moving a little farther out Buck found another body, this time a young woman. He fought back more nausea at the sight of her torn clothes, the blood between her legs. He confirmed that she was dead, then carefully pulled her clothing back over her before moving on to the last body. It was another woman, older than the first one by at least fifteen years he’d guess. Her clothing had been ripped away as well, the evidence of violation clear. He covered her the best he could too, then walked toward the wagon. |
Wendy M This was just a very creative constructed story that had me on edge the whole entire time I was reading it. |