..."It can wait if you're busy."
The image shimmered in his mind for a moment. He closed his eyes to focus. When he opened them, the Dragoons were still there. But they were back on Scarlet's hips, where they belonged.
"Ah...no. Now would be just fine," Fritz replied. "It'd take my mind off things."
"Penny for your thoughts?"
"Maybe later. Whatya got there?"
He recognized the piece of doeskin. It had held many presents in the years they'd been together.
"I hope you like it. It's not quite done," Scarlet said, "but it's done enough."
She handed the package over. Fritz unwrapped the gift. He smiled. "So there it is."
The first thing he noticed was the grip. Bill had reconfigured it. Instead of the traditional plough handle, it was gracefully curved at the base. He slipped it into his hand. It felt different...not bad, just different.
"Bill told me he copied from the British Webleys. It's called a 'bird's head."
The next thing he noticed was the the ejector rod. Somehow, Bill had put a full-length ejector rod on the barrel. At only three and a half inches, it was a short rod, but it would do the trick.
"I'd told him to put ivory stocks on it, and to have it engraved," Scarlet said. "He went east with Patches before it got done. We didn't expect this. Cosmetically, it still needs some work. But mechanically, it's just fine."
Fritz turned the pistol in his hand. He noticed the markings on the barrel. They read, ".45 Colt."
"He converted it! Where did he get the parts.?"
Scarlet smiled again. "Your friend Keith out at the fort was very helpful."
Fritz put the pistol down, and pulled his wife close. "Thank you! I love it! And I Love You."
They kissed.
"Since we're in a gift giving mood, I suppose I should let you have your present now."
"MY present?" Scarlet was confused. "But my birthday..."
Fritz interupted. "I know. But I can never surprise you. I figured I'd leave it in plain sight, and just drive you nuts for a month or two."
He took her by the hand and led her out to his mount. Fritz untied the parcel and handed it over. Scarlet's face lit up like a child's on Christmas morning. She tore at the paper with equal enthusiasm. When she opened it, she gasped.
"Is this what I think it is?"
Fritz smiled. "Yep. I knew you'd want one of the first ones."
She asked, "How did you get it?"
"I have some friends...well, Johnny has some friends."
She turned the carbine over in her hands. It was marked "Winchester 1876."