Stained Snow (10 page)

When he stepped into the saloon, he had to give his eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness. Once they had, he made his way over to the bar and waited for the man behind it to come to him. “What can I get ya?”

“I need some information,” William said as he leaned on the bar.

“We don’t deal in that here. You’ll have to try somewhere else.”

“I’m looking for someone. I just want to know if you’ve seen him around.”

The barkeep turned away and ran a rag across the top of the bar. “I don’t have any information for ya. If you don’t want nothing to drink, you need to get away from my bar.”

“Please, it’s my brother I’m looking for. I need to find him.”

The barkeep lifted his eyes, and his hand moved under the bar. “I said you need to be gettin’ on, fella. Don’t make me say it again.”

William lifted his hands from the bar and took a step back. A man at one of the tables slipped away and through a door at the back of the saloon. The sight of the bartender raising the sawed off shotgun above the bar distracted him from that. “I’m going,” he said and didn’t let anything else distract him between there and the door.

When he got outside, he took a deep breath before stepping from the boarded walk down into the street. He started down to the next saloon in town but stopped when a noise came from behind one of the buildings down from the one he had just left. At first it sounded like a scuffle, and he was about to go and try to break the fight up. As he approached, he heard an urgent “go” and the creak of saddle leather. He had an uneasy feeling Thomas had been so close. Someone had known who he was looking for and warned him before William could get any information. With a muttered curse, he turned and hurried back to his horse.

He unwrapped the reins and put one foot in the stirrup, swinging his other leg over the saddle. He turned his horse back the way he had come from then went between the buildings. He hadn’t wasted any time. Still, he barely saw the other rider in the distance. “Come on, boy. We’re so close. Let’s catch him.”

He spurred his horse into a gallop and watched as the distance between the other rider shortened. Even from this far back, he recognized the hat his brother had always worn.

Thomas glanced back over his shoulder at him then he wheeled his horse around. William didn’t have much time to react. He yanked the reins to stop his horse, the sudden move unbalancing him in the saddle. As he slid to the ground, he grabbed the rifle from the scabbard and brought it to his shoulder. Thomas already had two pistols aimed at him.

“Turn around right now, brother,” Thomas shouted at him. “You won’t be taking me in. Go home.”

“I can’t go home. You took that away from me.” He took a step away from his horse, lifting the rifle to his shoulder. “You killed Anna, killed my son, your own nephew. You have to pay for that.”

“She should have gone with me. If she wouldn’t have fought me, she’d still be alive.”

“She was never yours to have in the first place,” William shouted. Wetness burned his eyes and blurred his vision. “I am taking you in, so put your guns down and come with me.”

Thomas laughed, and the sound sent a cold shiver down William’s back. “You’re not going to shoot me, brother. Put that long gun back and ride on out of here. You don’t want to kill me. Not nearly as much as I’d like to kill you.”

“Then, why don’t you do it?”

“You haven’t suffered nearly enough yet. When I do kill you, it will be a mercy. You’ll get what you have coming, brother. If you turn around right now, it won’t be today.”

The words knotted his stomach. How had he not suffered enough? He’d had to bury his wife. He’d watched his son die slowly, day by day. Thomas was right, he didn’t want to kill him. A part of him did want him dead but not by his hand. Not if he could help it.

Still, he needed to take him in. He didn’t lower the rifle as he took another step toward Thomas. “I don’t want to kill you. I don’t want to hurt you as you’ve done to me, but you are going to come with me.”

His brother’s face twist into a sneer. “You hurt me long ago when you caused everything to be taken from me.”

His brother’s shouted words took him back a step. What was he even talking about? William had never done anything to hurt him. It had always been the other way around. “I never did any of that,” he said, but the wind snapped his words away. “I’m taking you in.” Before he could say anything else, or even lever a bullet into the chamber of the rifle, a flash came from the barrel of one of his brother’s gun.

He felt the impact of the bullet in his chest then a second lower in his side before the report of the first shot faded. His body hit the ground, his face down in the snow. He rolled over and pain sliced through his body. He groaned as snow fell onto his face, then the beat of hooves disappeared in the distance. Thomas was getting away, and he wasn’t sure he could move as his blood soaked into the snow under him.

William gathered all the strength he could and rolled his body again, coming up to his knees this time. He almost collapsed again, but forced himself to stay up as he whistled for his horse. The horse took a few careful steps toward him, and William reached out for the stirrup, almost falling on his face when he missed the first time. He grabbed onto it the second time and pulled himself up. It took him a little longer to climb into the saddle. He needed to find someone who could take care of these wounds. It obviously wasn’t safe for him here. He turned his horse toward the trail leading away from town.

The horse walked at a quick pace, eager to put the scent of gun smoke and blood behind it. It soon slowed with no urging from William. He barely clung to the saddle as the horse moved down the path. As the blood ran down his chest and side, his strength waned. He slumped over the horse’s neck.

As if he sensed something wrong, the animal stopped in the middle of the trail. William slid from the saddle, his body hitting the ground. He barely even felt it. Just as he barely felt the horse sniffing at him and snorting uneasily at the smell of blood on him. Everything dropped away and left him in darkness.

Chapter 12

Lay, Colorado

November 7, 1887

The gunshots stopped George Barnes with a bag of supplies halfway to the bed of his wagon. They came from a good way from town, but the sound still sent apprehension shivering down his spine. Not for the first time, he wished there was a town closer to his ranch to stock up on these supplies. Too many unsavory characters flocked to this town lately. Unless he wanted to stay days away from his ranch and Maggie, he would have to deal with it. So far, he hadn’t been messed with. He kept to himself for that reason.

He finished loading the supplies then climbed onto the seat and picked up the reins. He clucked to the horses and turned them away from town. Maggie could deal with the ranch while he was gone. There wasn’t much to do on it now anyway. Just taking care of the horses and things around the house. She could deal with it for the day or two he was always gone on these trips to town. That didn’t mean he liked leaving her alone there for so long.

He had only been on the trail for about a mile when he saw something laying in front of him. At this distance, he couldn’t make it out. He hadn’t gone much farther when he knew what it was. The horses tipped him off. They snorted, and tossing their heads and prancing in the traces, but refusing to move forward. He didn’t need to look any closer to know what lay in his way. A dead body. He didn’t know if it was human or animal. With a sigh he jumped down from the wagon seat.

He soothed the horses with a few murmured words after grabbing the rifle he kept under his seat. It might be a body, but he didn’t know what else could be around. What had left it there could still be near, or it might attract other creatures. Because it hadn’t landed there by nature’s course. Even he could smell the blood around it. He approached cautiously, but it didn’t move. Nothing moved in the surrounding area, either. Even the winter birds were silent. It didn’t feel right.

George stood a couple feet away. He could tell exactly what it was now. Not a deer, or bear, or any other creature he might have expected to see laying on the trail. No, this was no animal. Blood stained the ground under the body, but it had to be fairly fresh. He had driven over this trail, going to town, the night before. It happened sometime today, maybe that’s what those shots had been. No snow covered the body, which meant it happened since the snow they’d had that morning. By the hat laying a foot away from the body, and the coat covering its torso, this was a human.

A horse snorted as he took a step forward, and he turned his head. He noticed the animal standing beyond some snow covered trees, the branches already stripped of its leaves. It snorted again before taking a step forward. His mount hadn’t gone far from him. That should tell George something.

The man’s back rose then fell again as he approached. Maybe not as dead as he’d thought.

No sign of anyone else being near. Unlikely he’d been wounded here, unless he’d been ambushed. Either way, he was injured but still alive. George could not leave him out here.

“I don’t know what you’ve gotten into, boy,” he said, because he didn’t look so much like a man after all, “but I s’pose that’s up to the Lord to deal with, not me. I wouldn’t be no better than the man who put you here if I leave ya.”

He returned to the wagon, slipped the rifle back into its place beneath the seat, and, grabbing the reins, led the team of horses closer to the body. He had to speak to them the whole time to get them to settle and move forward. When he stopped them beyond the boy’s body, they minced the ground with their hooves. They wouldn’t spook and take off. He let them be while he returned to the wounded boy.

“This is probably gonna hurt. There’s not much I can do about it.” He hoped the boy was far enough gone he wouldn’t feel much of it. He slid both arms under the body and lifted it, grunting under the weight, more than what he expected. He stumbled toward the wagon, his insides twisting at the cry of pain passing the boy’s lips. Then some unintelligible words. “Said it would hurt,” George said as he maneuvered the body into the back of the wagon. “I’ll get ya back to my home and do what I can for you. That’s about the only promise I can make.”

When he brushed some of the boy’s sandy blond hair away from his face, he thought he might be closer to mid-twenties, so maybe not so much a boy. Of course, that could mean he was anywhere from eighteen, like his daughter, to into his thirties. Life out here could make looks deceiving.

He approached the horse, hoping he wouldn’t spook it away. The horse shook his head and sidestepped him. “You’ve been loyal to your partner here. I don’t want to leave you out here on your own.”

The horse shook his head again, but this time took a step forward. It took longer than he’d like, but he finally got the horse’s reins tied around the back of the wagon. He climbed back up into the seat.

The ride in the back of the wagon wouldn’t be comfortable, even for a healthy man, and he had nothing with which to make it better. Nothing he could do about that. He hoped the boy would make it to the ranch alive. He would hate to think he had a man’s death on his hands.

#

Barnes Ranch, Colorado

November 7, 1887

Maggie stood in the doorway, looking out toward the horizon. Pa should have been back by now. She ran her hands along her arms, trying to wipe away the chill that wasn’t completely because of the weather. Any number of things could be holding him up. She had a worried feeling about it anyway.

She hadn’t seen Thomas in six months. Tears stung her eyes. Adam was right. He wasn’t coming back again. Maybe he hadn’t loved her.

Who the hell was Anna?

She rubbed her arms once again then turned and stepped back into the house. She had to finish getting dinner ready. Hopefully Pa would be home in time to eat it. Adam and the foreman had ridden out to the line shack a couple days ago. They’d be up there to keep an eye on the cattle for the winter. She missed him already. He’d always been a good friend.

She had pulled dinner away from the fire when the beat of horse’s hooves and the rattle of the harness came from the yard. She wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to the door. She started to smile, then noticed the grim look on her father’s face. A fear clutched at her heart. “Did you hear something about Thomas?” She hurried across the yard to him. Maybe he was coming back.

George shook his head but didn’t look at her. “I didn’t even see him while I was there. I know you hoped he’d come back, but you’ve gotta face the fact he may have ridden on.”

“No.” She’d said it with more conviction than Thomas’ half a year absence should have left her. “No, Pa. He’ll be back. He said he would be.”

George gave a short nod. Then, he motioned to the back of the wagon. “We’ve got us another problem. I found him out on the trail.”

“Who is it?” Maggie asked as she stepped closer to the wagon. She could only see his face. “What happened to him?”

“Don’t rightly know, but he needed help. Someone left him out there to die. I don’t want to let that happen. Now, let’s get him inside.”

She stepped around to the back of the wagon but her heart lurched at the sight of the blood. “He’s lost too much already,” George said as he came around. “We need to get it to stop, or we will lose him. I can’t do it out here, Maggie. It’s a lot to ask of you, but I need your help.”