Stained Snow (12 page)

George shook his head. “This is good, son. You getting your strength back. You push it too much right now, and you’ll be flat in bed again. Give it a little more time.”

William argued with him. He had no desire to go back to bed. Even sitting up to eat and the ensuing argument left him drained of much of the strength he’d fought for. Still, every morning after breakfast, he made the offer. After most of a week passed, George finally relented. “I think I can find some chores for you to handle,” he said, even though he seemed reluctant.

William stood quickly from the table and almost regretted it. The room spun around him, and he reached out for the table to steady it. It took a moment, then the world righted again. It had been enough to reveal the pity on his host’s face and in Maggie’s eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Will,” George said, his voice quiet. “You can take more time.”

William shook his head. “No, sir. You’ve offered me your hospitality for near on a month now. I’ve taken it while giving nothing back. It’s time for me to repay you.”

“That’s not necessary.” Resignation hung in George’s voice, and he sighed, tipping his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Come out to the barn with me. I have a few tasks you can do and can take your time with them.”

When they reached the barn, George turned to William. “This is one thing I’m serious about, son. You take your time. You don’t need to hurry to get done. If you feel weak, sit down and rest. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

George left the barn, and William turned to start on his list of tasks. First, he needed to brush the four horses residing in the barn, one his own and the other three belonging to George. A simple task, and one he always enjoyed doing. He went first to his own horse but simply ran his hand down the animal’s neck. He laid his forehead against it. The horse tried to turn his head and nudge William with his nose, but the angle was wrong. William stepped back and ran a hand down the horse’s face. “Yes, boy, I’m all right. I will be anyway. They’ve been taking care of you, too.”

The horse nickered and bobbed his head. “Good people. We were lucky good people found me.” It could have been bad. If one of Thomas’ friends had found him on the trail, he never would have woken up. Yet even though George and Maggie seemed like good people, he had given them a fake last name. Well, not completely fake. He had given them the name Will Bailey, Patrick’s last name. Even though he considered him more father than step, their mother hadn’t given the boys her new husband’s last name. He took it now.

He brushed three of the horses before his body forced him to take a break. Maggie walked in to find him sitting against the wall of an empty stall. “Are you all right, Will?” she asked, approaching him.

He got to his feet. “Fine. Taking a break as your pa ordered me. I need to finish my work.”

His muscles had gone tense with her presence, and he fumbled with the brush. She laid a hand on his arm. “I can give you a hand with that,” she said.

He wanted to take more from her than a hand. The thought unsettled him. He’d tried to keep his thoughts from going there whenever they started that way. It felt too much like a betrayal to Anna.

“Don’t you have some other chores to do?” he asked, his voice rougher than he had meant.

“My morning chores are finished. I thought you may need some help.”

“I can handle it. Please, go.”

He hated the pain his words put into her eyes, but this would be better. He couldn’t have her. Couldn’t have anything standing in the way of him going after Thomas as soon as he was strong enough. He knew without even touching her, she could be the one thing to hold him back. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t. He kept his eyes on the horse until she left the barn.

It might be a lost cause after all.

Chapter 14

Barnes Ranch

December 2, 1887

Sweat beaded William’s forehead as he pulled his second boot on. Even with the fire going, the air in the cabin was chilled. Yet he was sweating.

He’d only been helping around the ranch for a couple days now. Once he got going, he felt fine, but pulling his boots on was almost too much exertion. Something pulled in his side as the boot slid on. He winced but smoothed out his features before standing up. He didn’t want to give George a reason to make him stay in the house. He wasn’t sure he could handle any more of that.

He hated the thought he took advantage of them. If he couldn’t be useful, he should be riding on. He wasn’t in any condition to do that.

He got to his feet and headed for the door, pulling on his coat and flipping up the collar. The wind battered the windows. It would make the trek to the barn difficult. Chores still needed to be done. George held out a hand to stop him as he headed for the door. “Why don’t you stay in here?”

William shook his head. “I already told you, George. This is the only way I can pay you back for all you did.”

“The only thing I did was pick you up off the trail and patch you up the best I could. You did the rest on your own.”

“You’ve fed me, clothed me, and sheltered me since. You could have kicked me out once I healed.”

George’s gaze moved up and down his body, resting on the sweat still beading his forehead. “I’m not sure I’d say you’re healed.”

“I could still ride out of here if you insisted.”

“You wouldn’t make it a day in the saddle. I’m not heartless.”

William wanted to throw his hands up in the air, but a movement like that would aggravate his shoulder. “You’re the most stubborn man I know.”

“Impossible. You’d see him if you’d look in a mirror.”

William shook his head and headed for the door again. George let him go this time. He stepped outside and drew in a deep breath of the cold air, hoping it would help clear his head.

It only made his lungs hurt.

He stepped down from the porch and nearly fell to his knees. His sharp breath hurt the wound in his shoulder, and he ground his teeth against it before he kept walking like nothing had happened. By the time he reached the barn, he had to stop and catch his breath. His chest ached, but he ignored it. He lifted the bag of corn and carried it to the first stall and groaned as he set it down again. He needed to fill the horses’ corn boxes, but he wasn’t sure he could lift the bag again. The ache in his shoulder had gotten worse and now pain stabbed through his side as well.

He couldn’t draw in a full breath. Even when he tried to take a step, the pain almost overtook him. “Need a minute,” he murmured, leaning against the wall of the stall.

More than a minute passed with his eyes closed, but he didn’t even move when he felt a hand on his back. “Damn it, Will. I told you to take it easy. Lifting this is not taking it easy. Go toss down some hay. I’ll take care of this.”

William nodded, not sure he could handle speaking right now. He made it to the ladder up to the loft before he had to stop again. He rested his head against one of the rungs and drew in another breath. More stabbing pain, and he had to blink away black spots obscuring his vision. He made it onto the first rung and set his foot on the second when the barn decided to spin on him. Something ran down his side before his back slammed against the floor.

Pain enveloped him, and darkness crept in at the edge of his vision. Footsteps approached, and George knelt down beside him. The older man let out a string of curses as he pulled William’s coat back. “I told you to take it easy. Now, I have to patch you up again.”

Then, he was being lifted. “I can walk,” he mumbled.

“I doubt that.” George set him on his feet anyway and wrapped an arm around him.

William stumbled several times on the way up to the house. He barely even recalled the trip there. He didn’t remember falling into the bed, but that’s where he woke up.

He laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes. He didn’t know how long passed since he’d fallen in the barn. More pain visited him now, his back one big mass of it. He’d curse at himself but even that would take more energy than he had.

Footsteps approached, and he forced his head to turn. Maggie stood there in the doorway, watching him. When their eyes met, relief filled hers. “Good, you’re awake. I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d have to play nurse to you.”

“How long?” His voice came out as little more than a croak.

“Not even a day,” she replied, her voice tight. “We just finished our dinner. I’ll bring some to you once I check your wound.”

“What happened?” He closed his eyes again.

“You were a stupid fool.” The words sounded harsh, but her voice remained soft, as were her fingers as she unwound the bandage from his side. “You did too much and opened this wound. I had to sew it up again.” Her voice caught on the words.

He turned his head and caught the film of tears in her eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He wanted to go back to sleep. He was so tired and sore.

She turned her head away. “It’s no matter to me if you want to kill yourself. Don’t make me keep sewing you back up when you do it.”

His own eyes ached. That wasn’t what he was trying to do. Was it? “Won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.” She finished cleaning the wound and wrapped a clean bandage around it. She stood back up from the bed. “I’ll bring in some food. You’re not to get up until that wound is healed.”

William closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up even if he wanted to.

#

Barnes Ranch

December 4, 1887

Maggie stepped out of the cabin and barely suppressed the growl rising in her throat. Damn that stubborn man. She wanted to make sure his wound was healing. He acted like she tried to entice him. His face had gone stony as she moved her fingers over the line of his stitches, and his whole body tightened before he turned away from her. There hadn’t been any sign of infection at least. As soon as she said it looked good, he tried getting out of bed to get dressed. She’d had to push him back down and threaten to get her father to keep him there.

It didn’t look that good.

She let the air cool her heated thoughts. The man was going to drive her to…well, to something. She wasn’t sure exactly what. She took another deep breath before heading down to the barn. Her father turned as she entered. “How’s our boy doing?”

“He’ll be fine if he doesn’t make me strangle him. It might be the only way to keep him in bed.”

George laughed. “It’s a good thing he wants to get up. Means he’s getting his strength back. Looks like a storm’s going to be rolling in. After that, he might be well enough to ride on.”

Maggie didn’t understand why that dropped a heavy weight into her stomach. She’d known from the beginning he’d ride out again. Everyone rode away. Her mother had when Maggie could barely walk. Her father had gone away into a bottle after that, leaving Henry, still a boy, to take care of her. Pa had come back at least. Even Henry, who she always counted on, had ridden away to join the Army. No matter how many times Thomas came back, he still rode away from her. William wouldn’t be any different. He wasn’t anything to her. Someone her father tried to help. It didn’t matter what he did once he healed.

She turned away. “I’ve got chores to do.”

She carried the bucket of milk to the house, and William stepped outside. There came that growl again. She stepped onto the porch. “I told you to stay in bed.”

“I’m going to waste away if I spend another moment in that bed.”

“You’re goin’ to kill yourself if you try to do too much.”

“I’m not trying to do anything. I won’t lift a hand. I needed to walk and stretch my legs.”

“Well, you’ve walked. Now, get back to your bed.”

“Not yet. I’m doing fine. I want to walk outside for a minute.”

Maggie sighed instead of letting the growl come out. “Fine. I’m walking with you in case you drop again.”

“I won’t faint.” He seemed insulted at the insinuation.

“I’ll not take the chance we’ll find you bleedin’ to death out here.”

“Fine.” He pulled his hat a little further down over his forehead. “Let’s walk then.”

They headed around behind the house, walking side by side. She was silent for about a minute before asking, “Who are you, Will? You haven’t told us much about you.”

“I’ve told you enough.”

“You haven’t really. All we know is you had a wife and son and a ranch. You’ve barely spoken of your ma and pa. You’ve never even said where you’re from or if you have any other kin. We know only your name and someone tried to kill you.”

“Why isn’t that enough?” He didn’t even turn to look at her.

“It doesn’t tell us anything about you. I thought, well, since you’ve been here a while, we’d know you a little more.”

“What do you want, Maggie? You want to know about my house and barn being burnt to the ground? How about the fact when I returned to town from escorting a prisoner to Fort McKinney as a favor to the sheriff, I found out my wife was dead and my son had a bullet in his back? Are those the details you want?”

The blood drained out of her face at his words, but she didn’t speak. She wasn’t sure what words to even say. Instead she kept her gaze on the ground as they turned toward the barn.