Anna, he didn’t see a reason.
He didn’t see a reason for much of anything lately.
He hadn’t ridden out after Thomas after the funeral. He would have liked to, but David needed him, and the trail would have been cold. William had ridden to a few nearby towns, asking around. No one had seen him, but they said they’d put the word out, too. He hadn’t heard anything and started to think he never would find him. He’d never get justice for what was done to his family.
There wasn’t anything he could do anyway. The doc had said as much when he’d come by a couple weeks before. No sign the bullet shifted, but David could be fighting an illness or something. It might be more than that.
The shiver wracked the boy’s body, and William swallowed past the lump forming in his throat. “You need to get up to the house. Have your grandmother get you something warm.”
“I can do it.” David pulled away from him. “I don’t need your help walking.”
He watched the boy’s uneven gait as he headed toward the house. He shouldn’t have to deal with this. None of them should.
William twisted around and slammed his fist against a pole of the corral. Startled, the horses ran to the other side of the enclosure. One snorted and shook its head, looking back at him.
William cursed as pain shot through his knuckles and up his arm. When he turned back around, Patrick watched him. He didn’t want to talk to him or hear a lecture, so he headed into the barn. They had time before his mother would have dinner ready. He needed to work some of this anger out of him before he went inside.
#
October 20, 1877
William stepped out of the barn when a horse rode in. He leaned the pitchfork against the barn door and went to stand next to Patrick, who shaded his eyes at the oncoming rider. “Who is it?” William pushed his hat back on his head.
Patrick shook his head. “Not sure.”
William rested his hand on the butt of the pistol at his waist just to be sure. He’d always carried one with him before— it was necessary out on the trail—, but he’d always had it on his saddle. He’d only started wearing it on his hip in the last months. If Thomas ever showed his face, there wouldn’t be anything between him and his gun.
As the rider drew closer, William did recognize him. He’d seen him in the livery barn quite a bit, one of Al’s boys. Patrick stepped forward and said, “Jacob, what are you doing out here? I don’t think I have any business with your pa.”
Jacob shook his head. “No, but he said I should come out here to talk to you.”
“Why? I’m not hiring any hands right now. With winter coming, there’s barely enough work for the ones I have.”
“I’m not here about a job.” He swung down from the saddle. “I’m here to talk to you, Will.”
His words slammed into William. He didn’t have a chance to say anything before Patrick said, “Put your horse in the corral, Jacob. I’ll put some coffee on, and you can come inside.”
Patrick headed for the house as Jacob led his horse down to the corral where he could rest and graze after the ride from town. William felt stuck. He could only think of one reason the hostler’s boy would ride more than an hour from town to talk to him. Al had been one of the people he’d reached out to for help in finding Thomas.
He still stood in the same spot when Jacob returned from the corral. They weren’t far apart in age, and William knew him better than Al’s other boys, but he wouldn’t say they were close. Still, he remembered a few things about the other man. Little things he’d heard and picked up around town.
He hadn’t settled down yet. He didn’t even stay in town all the time, although he worked hard for his father when he was there. He liked cards and usually drifted between games. William’s impression had always been of an easy-going sort. Let trouble and insults roll off him.
He stopped beside William now. “Your pa’s probably
He didn’t see a reason for much of anything lately.
He hadn’t ridden out after Thomas after the funeral. He would have liked to, but David needed him, and the trail would have been cold. William had ridden to a few nearby towns, asking around. No one had seen him, but they said they’d put the word out, too. He hadn’t heard anything and started to think he never would find him. He’d never get justice for what was done to his family.
There wasn’t anything he could do anyway. The doc had said as much when he’d come by a couple weeks before. No sign the bullet shifted, but David could be fighting an illness or something. It might be more than that.
The shiver wracked the boy’s body, and William swallowed past the lump forming in his throat. “You need to get up to the house. Have your grandmother get you something warm.”
“I can do it.” David pulled away from him. “I don’t need your help walking.”
He watched the boy’s uneven gait as he headed toward the house. He shouldn’t have to deal with this. None of them should.
William twisted around and slammed his fist against a pole of the corral. Startled, the horses ran to the other side of the enclosure. One snorted and shook its head, looking back at him.
William cursed as pain shot through his knuckles and up his arm. When he turned back around, Patrick watched him. He didn’t want to talk to him or hear a lecture, so he headed into the barn. They had time before his mother would have dinner ready. He needed to work some of this anger out of him before he went inside.
#
October 20, 1877
William stepped out of the barn when a horse rode in. He leaned the pitchfork against the barn door and went to stand next to Patrick, who shaded his eyes at the oncoming rider. “Who is it?” William pushed his hat back on his head.
Patrick shook his head. “Not sure.”
William rested his hand on the butt of the pistol at his waist just to be sure. He’d always carried one with him before— it was necessary out on the trail—, but he’d always had it on his saddle. He’d only started wearing it on his hip in the last months. If Thomas ever showed his face, there wouldn’t be anything between him and his gun.
As the rider drew closer, William did recognize him. He’d seen him in the livery barn quite a bit, one of Al’s boys. Patrick stepped forward and said, “Jacob, what are you doing out here? I don’t think I have any business with your pa.”
Jacob shook his head. “No, but he said I should come out here to talk to you.”
“Why? I’m not hiring any hands right now. With winter coming, there’s barely enough work for the ones I have.”
“I’m not here about a job.” He swung down from the saddle. “I’m here to talk to you, Will.”
His words slammed into William. He didn’t have a chance to say anything before Patrick said, “Put your horse in the corral, Jacob. I’ll put some coffee on, and you can come inside.”
Patrick headed for the house as Jacob led his horse down to the corral where he could rest and graze after the ride from town. William felt stuck. He could only think of one reason the hostler’s boy would ride more than an hour from town to talk to him. Al had been one of the people he’d reached out to for help in finding Thomas.
He still stood in the same spot when Jacob returned from the corral. They weren’t far apart in age, and William knew him better than Al’s other boys, but he wouldn’t say they were close. Still, he remembered a few things about the other man. Little things he’d heard and picked up around town.
He hadn’t settled down yet. He didn’t even stay in town all the time, although he worked hard for his father when he was there. He liked cards and usually drifted between games. William’s impression had always been of an easy-going sort. Let trouble and insults roll off him.
He stopped beside William now. “Your pa’s probably
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