plik

R. A. Padmos

Ravages

Jane Elliot

The Devil in

Dead Horse

Published by Manifold Press

Text: © Jane Elliot 2012
Cover image:Cover image: © Cameron Whitman |
iStockphoto.com
E-book format © Manifold Press 2012

For further details of titles

both in print and forthcoming see:

http://www.manifoldpress.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-908312-10-5

Dedicated

To the ladies of mp_coffee_break

Proof-reading and line editing:

Thalia Communications

http://thaliacomm.net/

Editor: Fiona Pickles

Characters and situations descr ibed

in this book are f ictional

and not intended to por tray real persons

or situations whatsoever;

any resemblances to living individuals

are entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1

“Here it is,” Billy said as he and his two best

friends scurried up to the side of a carriage house
and pressed back against wood. It was a more
graceful and elegant carriage house than most, as
befitted the classy neighborhood, and shiny new
windows dotted the side of the wall.

The three boys looked around furtively, ensuring

that no one was in the alley or the bright green yard
between the mansion and the carriage house before
inching up carefully to peer into the nearest window.

“Wow,” Joey breathed.
“It’s so shiny,” Tim said in awe. “I’ve never seen

a wagon that shiny.”

“It’s not a wagon, dummy,” Billy said. “It’s an

Olds-mo-bile. An Olds-mo-bile Cut Dash.”

“Where’s the steam come out?” Joey asked.
“It doesn’t run on steam. Automobiles use pe-

trol-e-um.”

“What’s that?” Tim asked.
Billy shook his head. Tim was a year younger than

Billy and Joey and was so very stupid sometimes.
“It’s what cars run on.”

Tim looked very unsatisfied with this answer, but

Joey cut in quickly. “There’s no cover; what do they
do if it rains?”

Billy opened his mouth and closed it again,

peering more intently into the window.

A deep voice answered. “See that cloth in the

back? That’s the roof.”

All three boys twirled around and jumped

back, startled at the sight of the tall, well-dressed
man standing behind them. The man looked tired,
with dark circles under his green eyes, but he was
smiling. Arrayed at his feet were a suitcase and a
valise. “Mr. Connors!” Billy yelped.

“Hello, Billy,” Will Connors said. “I see you’re

showing off Charles’s latest toy. Which actually runs
on gasoline, I believe.”

Billy looked down with a credible attempt at

remorse. “I’m sorry, Mr. Connors.”

“No need to apologize. Charles would be thrilled

to know that you like it; I’m afraid I haven’t been
showing the proper enthusiasm.” Will leaned in and
added in an undertone. “In fact, I bet if you asked,
he’d take you and your friends for a ride.”

All three boys’ eyes widened and Will’s smile

grew a hair less tired. They looked like nothing
so much as three very eager hounds that had just
caught a scent. “Really?” Billy breathed.

“Really,” Will promised. “Not today, though; it’s

almost time for you and your mom to go home.”

Billy and the other two looked like their world had

just come to an end. Will smothered a laugh. Tell
you what. If you three help me bring my luggage
in, I’ll talk to Charles about taking you out in the
automobile.”

The three boys lunged towards the bags and there

was a bit of a scuffle over who would carry what. In
the end, Billy carried the valise and the other two
awkwardly tried to share the burden of the suitcase.
All three trotted up the lawn in the direction of the

house.

Will shook his head and followed at a more

sedate pace that masked his slight limp. Halfway up
the lawn he paused to check in on the chickens and
their ridiculously overblown coop. It appeared that
John had been busy while Will was away: the castle
had a fifth turret now and the fence that surrounded
the pen had been painted in dual shades of blue to
match the chicken castle, the human house, and the
carriage house that John had taken to calling the
‘garage’ after hearing that the French were using the
word for buildings that housed automobiles.

Admittedly, the turrets did serve a purpose: each

one was a long-term feeder that slowly let out grain
as the chickens consumed it. Each turret could hold
about a day and a half’s worth of feed and with five
they would only need to be filled once a week. ohn
was thinking of patenting the design. Will was
outwardly supportive of the idea while inwardly
doubting that there would ever be much call for
chicken castles.

Still, the chickens seemed to like their home well

enough and produced a prodigious number of eggs;
most of the cooks in the neighborhood made it to
their back door during the week to borrow a few. he
resulting elevation in the status of their own cook
kept her in a good mood, which made life easier
for everyone involved, so the chickens would keep
their coop. Will just had to keep a sharp eye out for
any indications that a moat or portcullis was in the
works; John had already hinted in that direction a
few times and had to be distracted by a few mutually

satisfying diversions.

Will was looking forward to a few diversions

tonight; as much as he loved seeing his son, it was
hard being away from John for a week. After the
revelations of this latest trip Will was especially
in need of some comforting and he was seriously
contemplating sending the servants home early
when he stepped into the house and was promptly
informed that “Mr. Merriweather” was out and
wasn’t expected back until the evening. Will sighed
and thanked Mrs. Bowden, adding a request that
she try and curb Billy’s tendency to snoop before
dismissing her back to her duties.

Essentials taken care of, he made his way up

to his room and stretched out on his rarely used
bed. e hadn’t slept well the night before and was in
desperate need of a nap.

By the time he awoke, it was evening and

the house was blessedly silent. Servants were a
necessity in a residence this size and there would
have been serious questions raised if he and John
had eschewed them entirely, but Will had to admit
that he sometimes missed the days when it was just
him and John in Will’s old cabin.

Will frowned at the ceiling and chastised himself

for being maudlin. He loved Boston and he loved
his house. He loved that he could send a letter to
his son and get a reply back two days later. He loved
that he could visit his publisher in person any time
he wanted and that his books were top sellers at
the local bookstore. He loved the fine bed he and
John slept in, and he loved that supplies were just as

easily obtained in the winter as in the summer.

Truth was, he was a little down after hearing

Tommy’s news and feeling nostalgic. He wouldn’t
give up his current life for anything, but sometimes
he wished he could visit his old ranch, to see with
his own eyes how it was faring. The periodic reports
from Mrs. Potter helped, but even they had dried up
in the last few months. Will was prone to worrying
about the silence but, as John pointed out, there
wasn’t much he could do from Boston. hances
were she’d just been a little overwhelmed by the
calving and branding this year; they were always
a challenge even when not mixed with a school of
untrained youngsters.

Determinedly putting Mrs. Potter and the ranch

out of his mind, Will went downstairs to explore what
Mrs. Dora had prepared for supper.

He was just finishing up a bowl of excellent stew

when John came in. Will jumped to his feet and was
already opening his arms for an embrace when John
said gruffly, “Not yet,” and kept on going in the
direction of the stairs. Will caught a whiff of perfume
as John strode past and his heart sank.

Ten minutes later, John came back down

with damp hair and fresh clothes. This time he
immediately pulled Will up into a hard embrace and
Will gripped back just as tightly. “While I was gone,
John?”

John heaved a sigh and buried his face in Will’s

neck. “You know I hate coming to you with their
smell on me.”

“So you decided to take advantage of my

absence.” Will sighed as well. “I’m sorry.”

John chuffed out a laugh. “Don’t apologize for

the world we live in. At least I’m old enough no one
expects me to sleep with them and in a few more
years I can skip ‘em altogether.” He stood back and
ran his eyes over Will’s face for a few seconds. “I
did miss you,” he murmured, leaning in for a gentle
kiss.

“I missed you, too,” Will answered softly, and

stole a kiss of his own. Reluctantly, he stepped
back. “Come on and have something to eat, because
once we go upstairs you aren’t coming down until
tomorrow.”

John brightened and his steps were much lighter

as he went to the stove. “So how’s Tommy doing?” e
asked as he spooned up some stew.

“You mean ‘Tom’?” Will asked dryly. John just

waved a spoon at him. “He’s fine. And –” Will took a
deep breath. “And he’s going to Cambridge.”

“Damn,” John breathed, sitting down next to

Will and holding out his hand. Will took it without
hesitation and held on with all his might.

“It’s not like I wasn’t expecting it,” he said tightly.
“There’s a world of difference between expecting

something and having it actually happen,” John
pointed out. He squeezed Will’s hand, then let go to
start in on his dinner.

Will gave him a minute before adding, “What I

wasn’t expecting was for him to take a holiday in
Canada before he left. Only he’s calling it a vacation,
whatever that is.”

John growled under his breath and, despite

himself, Will found himself smiling. “Stop that,” he
said fondly.

“He’s being selfish.” John pushed his bowl away

and scooted his chair over so that he could touch
Will without stretching. “Why does he need a trip
to Canada when he’s going to England in just a few
months?”

“Because he’s a teenage boy with a sense of

adventure,” Will said. “Just like his old man was
when he was a boy.”

John harrumphed, and wrapped an arm around

Will in answer. Will reveled in the sensation; it wasn’t
as if either of them withheld affection, but they were
always more inclined to touching after being apart
for a while.

“We should take a vacation,” John said out

of nowhere, using the new word with obvious
relish. Get out of the city for a few days. Maybe a
week.”

Will considered that. “Tommy’s going to be gone

for at least a month, maybe more.”

“A month, then,” John said. “At least. Might do

that boy some good to have to wait for your letters
for once. And we can do a lot in a month. Maybe go
to San Francisco, or Yellowstone Park.”

Will rolled his eyes at John but he could see the

appeal of going out West. “Maybe we could stop in
at the ranch,” he offered hopefully, though it was
nowhere in the vicinity of either San Francisco or
the park. “Check in on Mrs. Potter.”

“We could do that,” John agreed.
That had been easier than Will had anticipated;

clearly John had been worrying, too, no matter how
much he said otherwise. “We’ll have to be careful,
though,” Will pointed out. “John Anderson’s still
wanted out there.”

“I’m still wanted everywhere,” John said

airily. till, he didn’t argue when Will started
planning what they could do to minimize the risk
of John getting caught. It made their plans far more
complicated, but Will found himself caught up in
John’s enthusiasm and they ended up talking about
the trip late into the night, with one extended, very
pleasurable interlude.

Chapter 2

Though the decision to undertake the trip

had been spur of the moment, both Will and John
found themselves alight with anticipation for the
upcoming adventure and any obstacles were quickly
overcome. Will’s publisher was placated with the
promise of renewed inspiration that the trip would
surely provide, John’s hangers-on were given some
justification for the wandering ways that were the
explanation of how John’s ‘Charles Merriweather’
persona could be a wealthy man that no one had ever
heard of, and Tommy’s guilt about his vacation, if it
really existed and wasn’t a product of Will’s hopeful
imagination, was assuaged.

The first true argument came when they

discussed horses. Will had given his old horse to his
late wife’s family; partially as a thank you for the
horse they’d given him and Molly when they moved
west and partially as a reward to a elderly, hard-
working ranch horse who deserved a life where the
most difficult thing he was asked to do was to carry
a few children and who wanted nothing more than
endless fields of green. John wouldn’t give up Old
Faithful for love or money, but he’d been putting her
to stud for the last few years and she’d foaled only a
couple of months before. “Old Faithful gets irritable
when you take her away from her foal,” ill reminded
John. When John didn’t look convinced, he added,
“Didn’t she bite you last time you tried to take her
out for a ride?”

John scowled. “What about Clever Girl?”
“Is she even broke to saddle yet?”
“She’s just about ready. She’ll be quick to learn.”
Will considered the horse in question, who was

prancing about the paddock in front of John, clearly
angling for a sugar cube. Clever Girl, Old Faithful’s
oldest offspring, was a beautiful animal and strong
for her age, but she was only two years old and she’d
been shamelessly spoiled by John. “Maybe so,” Will
finally said. “But she’s going to hate going cross-
country on a train.” And she’ll make you regret it, he
added to himself.

John didn’t look convinced. Fortunately, no matter

how besotted he was by his horses, John could be
practical when necessary and once Will sweetened
the pot by offering to take the train to Omaha, where
the world’s largest horse market was located, they
managed to come to an accord.

Negotiations complete, all that was left was to

pack their bags and before Will had fully grasped that
he was going on his first ever vacation, they were on
the steamer boat to New York City. From there they
made their way to the Pennsylvania Central Railroad
in Jersey City, which had a direct line to St. Louis.

Trains had improved immensely since the last time

they had traveled on them. John was most pleased
with the private first class sleeping carriages and
the full-service dining rooms, while Will wanted to
spend most of his time in the observatory car staring
at the passing scenery. ill’s favorite improvement,
however, were the vestibules between cars: in the
past when he’d had to go from car to car, he’d had

to have John’s help for the jump over the coupling.
Now he could walk between them with ease.

Once night fell the observatory car lost most of

its appeal, and Will wandered back to his and John’s
room. There he found John watching in fascination
as the porter converted the berth’s padded seats into
a narrow bed and then lowered a second bunk from
the ceiling halfway down the wall. He completed the
setup with a ladder that hooked on the end of the top
bunk.

“That’s amazing,” John said as he inspected the

beds. “Who invented it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, sir,” the porter said,

holding out his hand. John gave the man a generous
tip, then followed him right out of the room,
peppering him with more questions. Will shook his
head and pulled his book out of his luggage. With
the help of the pillow from the top bunk, he managed
to get somewhat comfortable on the tiny bench that
was the room’s lone remaining seat and soon he was
in the midst of schoolboy antics as described by a
gentleman named Wodehouse. John had gotten
the book for Will while Tommy was considering his
English schooling on the basis that the book was
written by an Englishman and it was about English
schoolboys. Frankly, if what occurred in the book was
anything at all like the actual schools, Will couldn’t
imagine how any education occurred at all.

Giving up on the tome, Will instead turned his

attention to the window, only to find that with night
fallen the glass had turned into a mirror, reflecting
back the contents of the room. He was quite grateful

when the door opened and John stepped through,
and Will’s opinion of both the train and of the evening
immediately improved as John turned the latch on
the door. “The porter said we won’t be disturbed for
the rest of the night.”

“Did he now?” Will asked with a grin, pushing

himself to his feet and stalking forward –

– only to come to a stop when John held up a

finger. “What?”

“When was the last time you did your gymnastics?”
Will groaned. “Really? We’re on a vacation!”
“A vacation that starts with three weeks of riding.”
“Damn it.” Will sighed, but got down on the floor.

“You’re helping.”

John smiled.
It took some doing for Will to find enough space

to lay flat in the tiny berth, but they managed and
before Will was really ready he had his bad leg
folded up to his chest, with John pressing down
just below the knee to increase the stretch. “You
didn’t stretch at all during your visit to Tommy, did
you?” ohn asked. Will figured his grunt of pain was
answer enough.

The next ten minutes were less than pleasant,

as Will’s neglected muscles sharply protested the
treatment. When they finally finished he was covered
with a thin sheen of sweat. “This was not what I was
expecting when you locked the door,” he grumbled
as he lifted himself just enough to twist in the tiny
room and sit on the bed.

John lifted himself off the floor with his usual

easy grace. “I’m not through with you yet.”

Will’s trousers immediately felt tighter. “Oh.”
“Lights off or blinds down?”
Will shivered with anticipation; the bed may be

more comfortable in Boston, but they always had to
have the blinds down. “Light off.”

John grinned and moved to turn the light off. A

moment later the window blind went up, letting in
a trickle of moonlight. In the twilight, John was a
tall, hulking shape as he stepped close to the bed
and knelt on the floor between Will’s spread legs. ill
gasped as he felt two hot hands grasp his thighs and
spread him wider still.

Practiced fingers unbuttoned Will’s fly and he

brought his hands up to stroke John’s hair as wet
heat engulfed his cock. He immediately tried to
thrust up, but they’d danced this dance for years
now and John’s hands were already at Will’s hips,
holding him down so he could enjoy himself without
worrying about controlling his thrusts. Will returned
the favor, running his nails over John’s scalp and
feeling a thrill at the way John moaned in pleasure
as his head bobbed.

When Will started getting too close he tightened

his hands, grabbing fists of John’s hair. John
immediately stopped and leaned back. “Get
undressed,” John said and the raspy, hoarse note to
his voice went straight to Will’s crotch.

They undressed in record time, watching each

other in the dim moonlight. Will finished first and was
about to get on the bunk, but a hand on his shoulder
stopped him. He watched as John slid in instead,
pressing himself tightly back against the wall, his

cock jutting out over the white linens. Will grinned
at the sight and eased down in front of him, careful
not to move too quickly. When John’s arms came up
around him, Will allowed himself to be maneuvered
until his back was pressed up against John’s chest,
his rump just far enough forward that slick fingers
could find that dark hidden place between his legs.

Will savored that gentle exploration, which they

rarely bothered with these days, while staring out
the window to the moonlit trees that flew past their
window. A wave of affection washed over him as he
realized that John had arranged them so that Will
could stare outside as they made love, something he
hadn’t been able to do since they’d left the ranch.

A hot, blunt pressure pushed between his cheeks,

and pleasure rippled through Will’s body as he was
breached. “Yes,” he whispered in encouragement as
his eyes slipped shut, letting him fully enjoy those
first few shocking moments.

He opened his eyes once John was fully seated,

watching the shifting moonlight shadows as he and
John rocked lazily together, letting the motion of the
train do most of the work. It was a long, indulgent,
sweet fuck and Will was nearly boneless with
pleasure and quiet happiness when he came.

By the time they made it to Omaha, Will was

cranky and exhausted. Their cozy berth had lost
much of its luster after a night of two big men trying
to sleep crammed into a narrow bunk. On the second
night they hadn’t even made the attempt, but after
four years of sleeping next to John, Will found it

hard to sleep by himself, even with John’s familiar
snores coming from just a couple of feet above Will’s
head. As a result, Will was barely awake during their
transfer at Saint Louis and he didn’t even remember
the transfer at Kansas City, though John assured
Will that he’d walked to the next train under his own
power and carried his own luggage.

Their original plan for Omaha lodgings was to

stay at the Millard Hotel, which was by all accounts
the nicest in the city, but John had frowned at
the building’s squat, blocky exterior and kept on
walking. Will sighed, reminded himself that walking
was supposed to be good for his leg, and followed.
Fortunately, he didn’t have far to go – a mere block
later they spotted another tall building, this one
full of round-topped windows, fancy balconies, and
unnecessary architectural curlicues. ohn loved it, of
course.

These days, Will was a bit too well dressed to

pass for John’s poor back-country cousin so he was
prepared to pay for his own room for appearance’s
sake. As it turned out, the balcony rooms were
in such great demand that there was only one
remaining, and the concierge didn’t even blink at
John’s suggestion that he and Will would share the
room. Sadly, Will was too tired to take advantage
that night; he fell asleep the moment he hit the bed.

He made up for that the next morning and by the

time he and John had finished dallying in bed, Will’s
mood was greatly improved. He was as somber as
a priest next to John, however; the other man was
practically dancing with glee at the prospect of

exploring the horse market and Will barely managed
to get him to sit long enough for a hasty breakfast
before he found himself hustled out the door.

The Union Stockyards in Omaha were beyond

anything Will had expected. Massive white buildings
stretched out as far as the eye could see, redolent
with the odors of livestock. The horse and mule barn
alone covered two blocks and the sheep barn looked
like it might be even larger once construction on
it was finished. The floors and walkways were all
cement instead of dirt, and the pens were laid down
with fresh straw and water in huge cement troughs.
The straw and water were in high demand as tens of
thousands of animals were on display, with one man
bragging that ten thousand more arrived each day.
Looking around at the sheer size and scope of the
structure, Will figured the advertising was right: this
was the largest and best single barn in the world.

John, on the other hand, barely glanced around

before heading directly to the center pens near
the front of the barn, where the best horses were
displayed in smaller numbers than the herds in the
back. He passed by several dozen horses that looked
perfectly fine to Will, eventually stopping in front of a
tall, sturdy bay. For several minutes John just looked
the animal over, checking its withers and teeth and
hooves, before taking the horse’s head in his hands
and staring at its eyes for several seconds. The horse
bore this treatment with remarkable patience and
Will wasn’t surprised when John announced, “Will,
this one is for you.”

John knew more about horseflesh than Will could

ever dream to learn, so Will just nodded and moved
forward to replace John in front of the animal. “He
have a name?” he asked the seller.

The man shifted a wad of tobacco from one side

of his mouth to the other. “Nope.”

Clearly a man to let his product speak for itself.

Will turned back to the horse, which lipped hopefully
at his shirt. Will chuckled and held out a sugar cube.
The speed with which the horse snatched up the
treat reminded Will very strongly of a certain sweet-
toothed outlaw of his acquaintance, but he didn’t
imagine John would be very happy if Will named a
horse after him. Charles’ was also out, for the same
reason.

“Pity, though,” Will murmured to the horse,

who was now shamelessly sniffing at Will’s sugar-
producing pocket. “I’d love to see his face if I tried
it.”

Then he laughed as a thought occurred to him:

Charles Merriweather wasn’t the first alias they’d
come up with for John. “What do you think of
Clarence?”

The seller snorted with disdain, but the horse

whickered happily. “Clarence it is, then.” He patted
Clarence on the nose and fed him one more sugar
cube before heading off to find Clarence’s namesake.
It didn’t take long: John was standing next to a pen
that held only one animal, a palomino mare with a
golden hide and pure white mane and tail, who was
offering up a fantastic show of bucking, shying, and
other behavior generally considered undesirable in
a horse. John looked positively entranced.

Will sighed. “Please tell me you aren’t thinking

of buying her.”

“She’s spirited,” John said. “I like that in an

animal.”

‘Spirited’ wasn’t the word Will would have

used. Bad-tempered’, maybe. Or ‘dangerous’. “This
one has a name,” the seller offered up from behind
them. “The boys named her Raging Bitch.”

“I’ll take her,” John said.
Will sighed again and prepared to haggle. If they

were going to be stuck with this animal, he planned
to pay as little as possible.

Chapter 3

They took Clarence with them when they left but

made arrangements to pick up the mare the next
day. John was confident that he could tame her by
then. Will was less confident but he saw no benefit
in saying so out loud.

Their first stop, after getting Clarence settled

in a stable, was a general store, where John paid a
fortune for a wizened apple and pear, a handful of
carrots, and a twist of every type of boiled sweet in
the store. Will couldn’t imagine that the mare would
be won over by a peppermint humbug but he wasn’t
going to be the one to have to ride her, so he firmly
told himself that it wasn’t his problem. hough he
was going to have to ride beside her. e offered up a
silent prayer that she wasn’t a biter.

Their next stop was an outfitter, as their initial

plan to use their old supplies had fallen by the
wayside when John discovered that he no longer fit
in his clothes and Will had rediscovered that his own
clothing had already lasted more years than Molly
had ever intended when she’d made them. hat trip
took much of the day, as they argued over how
many supplies were ideal versus how many could
be carried without going back to the market to buy a
pack horse. John had won the battle as he had vastly
more trail experience than Will, but Will considered
himself the true victor when he managed to talk
John out of the pack horse.

There was a small supply of saddles at the

outfitter, but John disdained them all and dragged
Will a few blocks over to a saddler, where they spent
a ridiculous amount of money on two saddles. ill
had to admit, though: the saddle was by far the most
comfortable he’d ever used.

Finally, carrying enough supplies that Will’s bad

leg was protesting from the weight, they returned
to the hotel. There they had a quick dinner in the
restaurant before splitting up, Will to their room for
reading and John back to the stable to test out his
horse bribes and to mull over a name for the mare. ill
made him swear not to return until he’d picked one;
he didn’t want a repeat of the three months John had
spent agonizing over Clever Girl’s moniker.

Four hours later, Will was starting to regret that

ultimatum and when John finally walked in – with at
least two bite marks that Will could see, damn it – ill
jumped up to greet him. “So?”

“So what?”
Will narrowed his eyes. “You know what I’m

talking about, John. What’s her name?”

John beamed. “Lady Godiva. And she loves

butterscotches.”

“And the bites?”
“Turns out she has a powerful dislike of

peppermint humbugs.”

Will grinned.
Though it was getting mighty late, Will was very

aware of the fact that this was their last chance to
sleep in a real bed for quite a while. Fortunately, John
was equally aware and they spent a number of hours
enjoying pursuits that were most pleasurable on a soft

surface. By the time they were due to check out, Will
was sore and exhausted and in a very good mood.

They hit the trail just before noon, under a blue

sky with nary a cloud to mar the perfect dome. hey
kept to a walk partially because Will was half-asleep
in his saddle and partially because any time they
tried to go faster, Lady Godiva took to shying away
from her own shadow. A lesser rider than John would
have been bucked off more than once by the time
they decided to call it a day.

Well, Will decided to call it a day. John decided to

call it the start of Lady Godiva’s training.

For over three hours, Will and Clarence watched

as John put Lady Godiva through her paces. It was
slow going at first, as she didn’t take kindly to the
exercises and did her best to buck John right off. ohn
didn’t even do much to fight her, just rode out the
rough ride until she was too exhausted to keep going.

That’s when the training really began.
By the time dusk was approaching, Lady

Godiva was dark with sweat and her sides were
heaving. ohn patted her affectionately on her bowed
neck and then slid to the ground. “Hey, Will, toss me
the butterscotches.”

Lady Godiva’s ears twitched and her head lifted a

fraction. When John held out a butterscotch for her,
she immediately stepped forward and took it out of
his hand with a bit more enthusiasm than Will was
comfortable seeing. John just smiled and continued
to stroke her neck as he fed her a few more pieces.

When Will was planning this trip, he’d spent a

lot of time anticipating the intimacy he and John
would be sharing under the stars. Unfortunately, he
hadn’t taken into account the fact that he’d barely
been on a horse’s back over the last four years, much
less ridden one for hours on end: Will’s back, butt,
and legs were so tired and sore that he couldn’t
imagine getting aroused, much less doing anything
about it. Even John, who had ridden nearly every
day in Boston, looked tired after his exertions and
though they laid their bedrolls out close enough that
they could touch, both were asleep the moment their
heads hit the ground.

The next morning, Will woke up feeling as if he’d

been pummeled. “Who thought this trip was a good
idea again?” he asked with a groan.

John, who was staring up at the sky with a smile on

his face, answered, “You did. And once you get back
into fighting form, you’ll be happy that you came.”

Will grunted in disbelief and dragged himself

upright to get the fire started, with the vague notion
that maybe coffee would help.

In deference to Will’s soreness and Lady Godiva’s

sulking, they took it even easier that day than they
had the day before, taking long breaks and stopping
mid-afternoon. Once again, Will and Clarence took
a break while John continued training Lady Godiva
and once again, Lady Godiva did everything in her
power to unseat John, to Will’s secret amusement.
She gave up sooner this time, however, and judging
from the way her ears perked up during some of the
exercises, she wasn’t feeling too abused. This time
her head was still held high when John called it a

night, though it went even higher when John called
for the butterscotches and she didn’t protest at all
when John spent a long time grooming her that
evening while periodically feeding her candies.

A week into the trip, Will was finally feeling

fit enough to ride the full day through and Lady
Godiva’s temperament had improved enough that
she only tried to bite Clarence when he hit her with
his tail. John defended her, convinced Clarence was
hitting her on purpose. Will was convinced that John
was getting far too attached to his mare.

During this week John tried, with a complete

lack of success, to get Lady Godiva to respond to her
name. Will observed these increasingly frustrated
attempts with interest and finally took pity on John.
“Hey, Butterscotch!”

Lady Godiva’s ears perked up and she trotted

over to Will, who fed her a candy.

John looked appalled. “No.”
“Sorry,” Will said, without a hint of sincerity.
“But it’s a terrible name!”
“She seems to like it.”
“The horse doesn’t get to pick her name,” John

protested. “The owner picks the name!”

“If you say so,” Will said, and fed the mare

another candy.

They were nearly two weeks into their journey

when Butterscotch started acting up again. She’d
been so well-behaved of late that Will had been
anticipating an unpleasant incident as her true
nature finally won out against the prospect of sweets,

but John looked around intently and after just a few
seconds pointed off to the north. Smoke.”

Will stiffened. This far north there probably wasn’t

much risk of anyone recognizing John, but they
were far enough off of the main trail that the chances
of the smoke being from a lunchtime cook fire were
next to nil. Either someone was up to no good or
someone was in trouble. Unfortunately, there was no
way to tell which without going to investigate.

John was already galloping in the direction of the

smoke by the time Will turned to follow. For once,
Will was grateful for the pair of six-shooters that
John wore and he took a moment to ensure his own
rifle was in easy reach before kicking Clarence to a
gallop.

Butterscotch may not have been the sweetest-

tempered horse Will had ever encountered, but she
was one of the fastest. By the time Clarence reached
the source of the fire, John was already off his horse
and picking his way through the smoldering prairie
grass to the charred remains of what had recently
been a small wagon full of pioneers.

“Damn,” Will muttered as he slid off Clarence’s

back. The horse immediately backed up a few steps,
huffing in distress. Will couldn’t blame the poor
creature. There were at least three bodies on the
ground, and he thought he saw a glimpse of a fourth
in the smoking remains of the wagon. The horses
had been stolen, of course, along with most of the
supplies, but Will could see some clothing lying
about and a quilt that had been cast aside, probably
in the search for more valuable plunder. he quilt

was patchwork, slightly ragged with age and use,
and the thought of all of the time and love that had
been put into each one of those carefully shaped
designs made Will’s eyes sting.

“Will!” John shouted and Will turned to see John

crouched over the smallest of the bodies on the
ground: a girl that couldn’t have been much more
than eight. “I think she’s alive,” John added.

Will ran over to kneel down next to John. “The

others?”

“Dead,” John said, carefully running his hand

over the girl’s arms and legs to check for breaks. e
didn’t find any, but when he carefully turned the
girl’s head to see the other side of her face, Will
gasped. Fire had burned away a large swath of her
skin and hair, leaving behind a raw wound marked
with streaks of char.

“Get some water,” John said tersely. “And the

whisky.”

Will ran back to the horses to gather a canteen,

the whisky, and after a moment’s thought, John’s
spare shirt.

As he came back, he saw John had raised the

girl’s skirt. With a relieved expression, he lowered
it again.

“She’s intact?” Will asked quietly.
John nodded to him, then patted the girl’s

hand. I’m done now.” The girl didn’t respond. As far
as Will could tell, she hadn’t moved at all since he
and John had arrived, except to blink and breathe.

Will handed John the supplies he had

brought. What can I do?”

“Get a blanket for me to put her on, then set up

camp nearby.” John looked over the ruins of the
camp that surrounded them. “Not too close, though.”

Will nodded and retrieved the quilt that he’d seen

earlier. John gently moved the girl over onto it and
Will watched for a moment as John carefully scraped
the girl’s hair out of her wound before turning away
to collect the horses.

An hour later the camp was set up, with bedrolls

laid out, horses pegged, wood gathered, and a
fire burning inside of an unusually large and
scrupulously built stone circle. Will looked over
the pristine camp and felt a hint of shame that was
quickly overcome by dread as he shoved down his
cowardice and trudged back in John’s direction.

He had just cleared the hill between them when

he met John with the girl in his arms. Will eyed the
quilt-covered bundle and the tiny head swathed in
strips of John’s silk shirt. “Need help?” he asked
quietly.

“Not for this,” John said. “But you’re going to

need to watch over her while I go for supplies.”

Will swallowed thickly, but nodded. A moment

later he reconsidered. “Shouldn’t the girl go,
too? ven if we can’t find a doctor, she’d be more
comfortable in a hotel.”

John snorted. “Hotel? This far out, we’ll be lucky

if we can find a saloon.”

Will thought about what saloons were like,

especially in the middle of ranching country, and
winced.

“Besides,” John added, “She can identify the

bastards who did this.”

“All the more reason to bring her to the sheriff.”
“If there is a sheriff. And if she’s capable of

talking by them.”

Will looked at the girl, who hadn’t made a motion

or a sound the entire time he and John had been
talking. He hadn’t heard any noise earlier, not when
John was first looking the girl over, and not later,
when he was cleaning the hair out of her wound.
“Didn’t she react at all when you were tending to
her?” John shook his head. “Not even when you
used the whisky?” Another shake.

“Damn.” If Will had been in the girl’s

place, he didn’t think he could’ve held back a
scream. onsidering what the girl went through,
though, maybe it was for the best. “You think she’ll
come out of it?”

“I don’t know,” John said. He started walking

again and Will turned to keep pace with him. “I’ve
only seen a couple of people in a daze like this
before. Adults, both of them.” He glanced down at
the girl before adding in a quiet voice, “Neither one
made it.”

They finished the walk to the camp in silence.
Once the girl was settled down on one of the

bedrolls, John gathered his and Will’s canteens and
emptied one into the other. “Here,” he said, handing
the full canteen to Will. “If she moves at all, try get to
get her to drink as much water as she can.”

“And if she doesn’t move?”
“Pour some into her mouth anyway.” Off Will’s

incredulous look, John explained, “Big burns like

that, they leak water like a sieve. If she doesn’t drink
enough, it won’t be the burns that kill her.”

Will’s stomach clenched at the thought; he’d

never seen a child die before and the thought of one
dying under his care ... “I’ll make sure she drinks.”

Some of the tension bled out of John’s body. “I

know you will.” He stared at Will for a moment, then
pulled him into an embrace, which Will gratefully
returned. “I’ll be as fast as I can,” John said fiercely.

“We’ll be right here waiting for you,” Will

promised. “Be safe.”

“You, too. Keep an eye out, in case those bastards

come back.”

Will stared out over the plains long after John left,

not quite ready to face the damaged child behind
him. Still, he couldn’t put it off forever so, with one
last lingering look into the distance, he turned back
to the girl.

She hadn’t moved so much as a hair and Will felt

a brief rush of panic at the thought that she might
have died in the minutes since John rode away.

Rushing forward, he fell to his knees and, despite

the shooting pain in his leg, held a shaky hand in
front of her mouth. A moment later, he let himself fall
back onto his ass as he felt the faintest brush of air.
For now, at least, she was still alive.

Not quite ready to attempt to force water down

the girl’s throat, Will pushed himself back upright
and limped over to the saddlebags. Using as little of
the precious water as possible, he set some beans to
soaking for dinner, though at the moment he couldn’t
imagine having an appetite anytime soon. aybe he

could get the girl to eat his portion.

The girl who was still lying in the same

uncomfortable-looking lump as when John had put
her on the ground.

Will sighed and carried the canteen back over

to the girl. Moving carefully this time, he settled
himself down next to her and murmured, “Hey,
girl. t’s time for you to drink some water.” Of course,
she didn’t react. Will sighed and ran a gentle hand
over her hair, being careful to avoid the makeshift
bandage over her burns. The fabric still smelled
faintly of whisky, but Will didn’t think the reddish-
tinged dampness of the cloth was due to the alcohol.

“Damn,” he breathed. “Sorry, but I don’t think

we should keep putting this off. Can you open your
mouth for me?” No response. Will considered just
leaving her where she lay and attempting to get
some water into her mouth, but with her head tilted
to the side like that, he figured most of it would just
pour out. Not to mention that drinking while lying
down was a good way to choke to death.

“Let’s get you sitting up,” Will said, still speaking

softly. As gently as possible, he worked his hands
under her back and lifted her up. The moment he
took his hands away, however, she started to fall
back down, and only a quick catch on his part kept
her upright.

For a moment he just sat there, staring at the girl,

unsure of what to do next.

She blinked.
Will startled so hard he nearly dropped her again.

“Hey, can you hear me?”

No response, not even another blink.
Will slumped, let down and more than a little

annoyed with himself. If Mrs. Potter or, God forbid,
Molly, could see him right now, they’d be ashamed
of him. Cursing himself and abandoning attempts to
talk to the girl, he pulled the knee of his good leg up
to his chest and manhandled the girl until she was
resting against the resulting makeshift seat back. It
wasn’t a position he could hold forever – he could
already feel the strain on his bad leg as it countered
the girl’s weight – but it would do for the time being
as he tilted the girl’s head back and carefully pulled
down on her chin to open her mouth.

It promptly shut.
Will stared for a moment, then pulled down the

chin again. Again the mouth opened and again it
shut. On the third try, the mouth didn’t open at all;
when Will tried pulling down on the chin, the girl’s
whole head came up. Even better, when Will let go
of her chin, the head stayed upright. “Hey there,” ill
said gently, taking one of her hands with his canteen-
free one. “Can you hear me?”

The girl didn’t seem to notice his words, but she

flinched at the touch of his hand. Will immediately
let go. “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “I’m not going to
hurt you.”

The girl looked around with a confused expression

her face. Will gave her time, though when she lifted
a hand to where the burn was, he quickly grabbed
it, this time ignoring the flinch. You don’t want to do
that. You’re hurt.”

She frowned and looked at Will, seeming to really

see him for the first time.

Suddenly she scrambled away, moving so quickly

that Will didn’t even have a chance to try and stop her.
Will started to stand, but when the girl immediately
stumbled back a step, he sat back down. “I’m not
going to hurt you.” She didn’t look convinced but
she stayed put, so he added, “My name is Will. Will
Connors. What’s your name?”

She just stared back.
“That’s okay,” he said quickly. “You don’t have to

tell me your name if you don’t want to. But I do need
you to drink this water. Can you do that for me?”
He held out the canteen. She scowled and shook her
head rapidly.

All things considered, that was tremendous

progress. “It’s safe, I promise. Here, I’ll drink some
first.” Acutely aware of the girl’s suspicious eyes on
him, he uncapped the canteen and tilted his head
back, letting the water fall through an inch or two
of air, so it was clearly visible. He held the canteen
away from his face before swallowing. “See? All
safe.” Recapping the canteen, he leaned forward as
far as he could and placed it on the ground, before
scooting back away, using his arms more than his
legs.

The girl watched him until he stopped moving

before sending a longing glance in the direction of
the canteen. “Go ahead. It’s all for you.”

It took several minutes of waiting and the

occasional bit of encouragement before the girl could
be convinced to step forward and take the canteen.
The moment it was in her hands, she darted back to

Chapter 4

By the time the sun was going down in the west,

Will was starting to get worried. John still hadn’t
come back, the girl still hadn’t spoken, and they
were completely out of water. Making things more
difficult was that Will was morbidly aware of the
bodies just on the other side of the hill from their
camp, probably being fed upon by the vultures that
he’d seen flying to and fro all day. If John were here,
Will would have left him with the girl and gone to
bury the bodies. Unfortunately John wasn’t here and
Will couldn’t leave the girl alone while he tended to
the remains of her family.

Still, the thought of those vultures tearing away

at human skin and bones...

Movement to his left mercifully dragged his

attention back into the camp, where he found the
girl shifting from side to side in a very familiar
dance. Apparently kids were all the same, boy or
girl. “Need to make water?”

The girl looked at him suspiciously before

nodding.

Will jerked his head in the opposite direction of

the vultures. “If you promise to shout if you need
help, you can head over that hill there. If you won’t
promise, you can go behind that bush behind me. I
won’t look, but I’ll be listening.” The girl scowled,
but after surviving the scowls of his own child, Will
had no difficulty enduring this one. Eventually the
girl got up in a distinctly sulky manner and stomped

off in the direction of the bush. Will waited till he
was sure she couldn’t see his face before allowing
himself to smile.

While the girl did her business, Will put the

beans closer to the fire and considered what to do
until John came back. The previous few hours had
been spent attempting to ignore the girl while she
stared at him and trying not to think too much about
the girl’s family. Frankly, Will would rather shoot
himself in the head before returning to either of those
activities so, once the girl returned to the safety of
the camp, he went over to his saddlebags and dug
through them for his notebook and pencil. You like
drawing?”

The girl stared at him some more. Will felt a

sudden urge to write a letter to Tommy, thanking
him for being such a happy, talkative boy. “I have
this paper and a pencil. I’m going to set it down over
there next to the saddle. If you want to use it, you
can.”

Matching actions to words, Will set down the pad

and pencil, then swung by the saddlebags to pick
up the book he’d purchased at their last supply stop,
called The Riddle of the Sands. He’d never read
anything quite like it, not only because of the theme
of espionage, but also for the remarkable amount of
research the author must have done to make it so
detailed. At the rate he was reading it, he’d need to
find another before they reached the ranch, but he
figured Mrs. Potter wouldn’t mind another book or
two to add to the boys’ reading lessons.

Settling back down on his bedroll, Will

intentionally let himself get caught up in the
adventures of Carruthers and Davies. It was an
engrossing tale, and it was nearly a chapter before
Will remembered to look up again. He found the girl
sitting next to the saddle with the pad balanced on her
knees, the tip of her tongue sticking out of the corner
of her mouth as she concentrated on her drawing.
The band of white cloth tied over her head made
her look younger and a bit lopsided and Will smiled,
feeling an unexpected surge of protectiveness.

His smile faded as he acknowledged the

feeling. hances were this girl was going to die of
her burns when the infection set in. Even if she did
survive, there was no possibility of him and John
keeping her. She wasn’t their kin.

The thought made him wonder if she did have

family. If she did, they’d have to be tracked down
somehow, though Will couldn’t begin to imagine
how if the girl didn’t start talking. Maybe there was
something among the remains marked with the
family’s name.

If she didn’t have family, things would be far

more difficult. Even if the burn didn’t kill her, it was
going to leave a significant and unsightly scar. ill
knew from John’s stories that visibly damaged
children rarely made it out of orphanages and those
that did usually found their way back, often with
more scarring than when they’d left. There was no
possibility of Will leaving this girl in an orphanage to
rot; even if he would, John would never agree.

Hopefully she had family somewhere, because

Will had no idea what they would do if she

didn’t. Hey, girl,” he called, making his voice
gentle to keep from startling the child. Didn’t do
much good; she flinched badly, causing the pencil
to slide across the page in a way she clearly hadn’t
been planning judging from the way she scowled,
first at the picture, then at Will. “Sorry,” he said,
trying to keep from smiling. From this angle, with
the bandage covering the eye closest to him, she
looked a bit like a tiny, irate mummy. “I just realized
that I can’t keep calling you ‘girl’ all the time. How
about you tell me your name?” No response from the
girl, naturally. “Maybe you could write it down for
me?” he girl just ducked her head.

“I didn’t think it’d be that easy,” Will admitted. e

considered the sky off in the distance, wondering
if that was the direction John had headed. He was
pretty sure there was a town in that direction, albeit
one a good fifteen miles away, but he wouldn’t be
surprised if John had been able to find a closer one.
The man seemed to have a nose for civilization,
possibly as a result of all of those years on the run.
Still, it was getting closer to nightfall and no sign of
John. Will sighed. “What if I do all of the talking and
you just nod when I get it right? Can you do that for
me?”

The girl considered that for a moment, dragging

her pencil tip over her paper, though she was no
longer looking at either. Finally, she nodded.

Will felt a surge of excitement at the possibility

that he was finally going to get some answers. That’s
perfect. Now I’m going to go say some letters. Nod
when I get to the first letter of your name.”

Slowly he went the entire alphabet, without ever

getting a nod from the girl. At first Will frowned,
thinking she was just being obdurate, but the longer
he went on reciting letters, the more tense the little
girl’s body became and the harder she pressed her
pencil point into the paper. Finally, Will gave up.
“You can’t spell your name, can you?”

The girl just turned her head away.
“Well, it’s not like we have a shortage of time,” ill

said, though the prospect of infection was hovering
in the back of his mind. No reason to scare the girl,
though; if the infection came, it came.  Is your name
Molly?” Slight shake of the girl’s head. “Mary?
Annie? Charlotte?” More shaking.  ill kept on
going, thinking of every woman he’d ever met and
every female name he’d ever heard.  ventually, he
stumbled on “Kate” and the girl twitched.

“Kate?” Will repeated. The girl did something

with her head that wasn’t quite a nod but wasn’t
quite a shake, either. Taking that as ‘close, but not
quite right,’ Will guessed, “Katie?”

This time the girl nodded and though it might’ve

been a trick of the incoming dusk and the flickering
firelight, Will thought she looked slightly happier – r
at least less miserable – than before.

Will considered the girl and the fact that if John

didn’t return in the next hour or so with medical
supplies, there was a good chance that he and Katie
would be stuck with each other for the rest of the
night. The long, long night, during which Will was
going to have to stay up to watch for infection and
Katie was probably going to have nightmares. orrific

ones. “Hey, Katie? How would you like to learn how
to read?”

By the time dusk was falling in earnest, Katie

had allowed Will close enough for him to borrow the
notebook and show her the letters. Since they still
had a bit of light left, he lined a few pages in her
book so she could practice writing them while he
cooked up the beans with a few chunks of bacon. s
she carefully drew a capital B, Will was forcibly
reminded of Tommy sitting at the kitchen table, nose
nearly touching the page as he copied the letters
that Molly had written out for him. Tommy had been
an uncommonly fast learner and he was reading a
good year before any of the other kids in the town.

Katie was doing pretty well for her first time,

better than Tommy, but then she was probably
four or five years older and she had to have seen
letters before, even if she hadn’t been able to read
them. till, Will felt a hint of pride as she filled the
page with the alphabet. One thing for sure, she was
a lot more patient than Tommy had been when he’d
been learning to write.

By the time dinner was ready, dusk had pretty

much fallen. Katie was still hard at work at her
learning, though Will doubted the girl could see
anything sitting that far back from the fire. He could
hardly blame her for caution, however, so in the end
he took both plates over and dropped down onto the
ground next to her. She eyed him suspiciously for a
moment, but the smell of the food was apparently
enough of a distraction because a moment later she
turned her attention to her plate and began wolfing

down her dinner.

Will faltered in his own eating at the sight of her

bolting her food, so hungry that she was using both
her fork and her hands. Up to this point, he hadn’t
really looked at the girl too closely outside of her
burn, but on closer inspection he saw that her wrists
and ankles were stick thin and her head seemed a
bit too big for her body.

Will swore to himself. Thanks to Lincoln’s

Homestead Act, a lot of poor families from east of
the Mississippi had opted to head west in the hopes
of finding good free land on which to build a new
life. Many of them sold everything they had to be
able to afford a cheap wagon and a half-dead animal
to pull it, leaving little if nothing for provisions. Most
figured they could forage for food along the way;
eastern forests were full of animals and wild fruit and
even if the family was literate and had read some
of the dime westerns available in every bookstore
and library, it was impossible to truly comprehend
the vast, dry plains and deserts of the west just from
books.

Katie’s family was probably as illiterate as she

was, which meant that not only had they not been
expecting the lack of water and scarcity of food on
the plains, but they undoubtedly didn’t realize that
most watered land out west had long since been
claimed by the first rush of homesteaders. These
days it would be a miracle to find even a tiny spring
that hadn’t yet been claimed, and chances were the
family would be killed for that spring long before
they could build the improvements necessary to

claim the land, much less survive the five years
required before they could get the deed.

It was a hard thing to realize that Katie would

likely have a better chance of surviving to adulthood
now than she would have if her family were still
alive.

Will’s morbid thoughts were interrupted by the

faint sound of a horse being ridden harder than was
probably safe in the twilight. Will’s head snapped
up; next to him Katie froze like a rabbit caught in the
gaze of a predator. “Get the quilt and go to the other
side of the saddle,” Will murmured to her. Hide
under the blanket and make yourself as small as
possible.”

Katie didn’t even bother to nod, just snatched up

the quilt and scampered away through the shadows.

For his part, Will quickly wiped the girl’s plate

and fork clean and limped over to the saddlebags
to tuck them away, pulling out his rifle at the same
time. Glancing back, he noted with grim satisfaction
that the new cloth-covered lump next to the saddle
looked like a pile of untidy luggage in the flickering
firelight. Will considered going to sit back against
the other side of the saddle, which was where he’d
be if this were any ordinary night, but he couldn’t
risk scrutiny in that area, so he limped over to the
other side of the fire and settled back down onto his
bedroll. The rifle he placed the edge of the bedroll
farthest from the fire, where it would be hidden by
the flickering shadows and uncertain light, and he
picked up his barely touched plate of food and made
a passable show of being hungry.

All of which proved to be completely unnecessary

when the man who rode into the camp turned out to
be John.

Will jumped up and immediately regretted it when

his bad leg cramped, forcing him to limp a couple of
steps before the leg behaved the way it should. By
that point, John was close enough to touch and Will
ignored the residual pain in his thigh to focus all of
his attention on embracing John.

“Shit,” John said, gripping Will tightly in

return. Did the girl ...”

“She’s fine,” Will said quickly. “She’s hiding

behind the saddle over there. I was just,” he took
a deep breath and considered what he was about
to say, acutely aware of the small person who was
undoubtedly listening intently to every word, having
some dark thoughts. I’m glad you’re back.”

John smiled slightly and glanced over his

shoulder to the saddle and the cloth-covered girl
beyond. “Looks like she can’t see us,” he murmured
as he turned back and, despite the entire nightmarish
situation they now found themselves in, Will couldn’t
help a tiny smile as John leaned forward for a gentle,
but satisfyingly long and involved kiss.

Unfortunately, the possibility of curious eyes

couldn’t be ignored forever so the kiss was all they
could allow themselves. Will pulled back reluctantly.
“Did you get the supplies?”

John nodded. “More canteens – all of them full of

water – gauze, laudanum, some more food –”

Will cut in. “Laudanum? I don’t know that we’re

going to need that. The girl doesn’t seem to be

feeling much pain.” A miracle, in Will’s opinion, but
one for which he was deeply grateful.

“Bad burns don’t hurt much except at first,” John

said. “The laudanum is for when it’s time to dose the
burn with whisky.”

Will blanched. “Whisky? Again? Why?”
“To keep the infection away,” John said. “That’s

what old doc Watkins said when Prosper burned.”

“Prosper,” Will said blankly. He was quite sure

John never mentioned that town to him before. He
had, however, told him a story once about a town
that he’d cared about that had been burned to the
ground. The town that John had helped to free from
his old master’s tight grip, only to have it destroyed
by the railroad a few years later. “Was that Tanner
Stone’s town?”

John nodded. Will swore softly and embraced

John again. John squeezed back so tightly Will’s
ribs creaked. “How many were burned?” Will asked
quietly, keeping his mouth next to John’s ear so the
sound wouldn’t carry.

“A couple hundred survived the fire,” John

whispered, the grim words washing against Will’s
neck on a wave of hot breath. Any other time that
heat would have moved down to Will’s loins, but
now it just made him hold John tighter.

“And what percentage of those survived their

burns?” When John didn’t answer right away, Will
added, “If everyone who survived the fire was a
dollar, then how many—”

“A nickel.”
Will’s stomach lurched. “A nickel?”

“There were hundreds of them,” John said,

sounding a little desperate despite the quietness of
his voice. “And only the doc and I to take care of
them. We barely had enough whisky for them all.”

“And I’m guessing not nearly enough laudanum?”
John shook his head.
Will swore again. “John –” Will took a deep

breath and glanced over John’s shoulder to make
sure Katie was still hidden away. “John,” he started
again, this time speaking so quietly that even Will
himself had to strain to hear his words. “If the girl
only has a nickel’s chance of surviving, maybe we
should just skip the whisky.”

John tensed and pulled back. “But the doc said–”
“I can imagine what the doctor said,” Will cut

in. e could imagine the doctor, too – an older man
who had come out west in his youth, full of frontier
spirit but far away from any news of modern medical
advancements. A man a lot like Doctor Smithson
and his beloved leeches, the same leeches that he’d
used on Molly during her last illness. The same
leeches that Will had later learned had probably
caused her death. “But she’s such a little girl, John.
She shouldn’t have to die in agony.”

John’s body remained rigid in Will’s arms for a

moment before he slumped. He didn’t say anything
out loud, but Will felt the brush of John’s nose and
mouth against his neck as John nodded.

“Thank you,” Will said in relief. He squeezed

John tightly one more time, then let go. “You’ve had
a long day; you need to eat.”

“Not really hungry right now,” John admitted.

“Not even for beans and bacon with syrup on

top?”

John’s lips twitched. “You have syrup?”
“Did you really think I’d go on the trail with you

without it?” He shoved John gently. “Go, take care of
Butterscotch. I’ll get your dinner ready.”

Despite his protests of not being hungry, John

quickly finished off the remaining contents of the
cooking pot. While John focused on filling his gullet,
Will picked away at his own food and surreptitiously
kept an eye on Katie. Once or twice he caught her
eyes peeking out, though she quickly pulled the
quilt back in place when she caught Will staring. He
wondered how much of the preceding conversation
she’d heard. He wondered how much she saw.

Will was starting to realize that the girl could

potentially be far more of a problem than he’d
previously thought. She knew John’s real first
name, she undoubtedly had noticed John’s bright
and highly recognizable horse, she knew Will’s
name, and unless she was more dim-witted than Will
thought, she’d probably figured out that he and John
were a little closer than was strictly acceptable for two
men. Right now, none of that mattered as she wasn’t
speaking, but if she ever did start talking again, Will
would have to keep a close ear out to make sure she
didn’t let slip anything she shouldn’t. e could only
do that if she was still with them.

“How long before we’re sure she’ll live?” Will

asked quietly.

John scooped the last of the sweetened beans

and bacon into his mouth and set his plate aside. If

the burn dries up instead of festering, she should be
okay.”

Will failed to see how repeated application of

whisky could encourage a burn to dry out, but kept
that thought to himself. “Can she travel before then?
Maybe we can get her to the town where you got
your supplies.”

“I thought we decided that wasn’t safe.”
“That was when she couldn’t talk.”
John’s head snapped around. “She’s talking?”
“No, but she’s nodding and shaking her head. If

you ask her the right questions, you can learn a lot.”

“Like?”
“Her name is Katie,” Will said and felt a hint

of satisfaction at the impressed look on John’s
face. Also, she likes to draw and she doesn’t know
how to read. I started teaching her the alphabet.”

John’s expression abruptly changed to one of

panic. “Did you let her use my drawing pad?”

“No,” Will said cautiously. “I had her use my

notebook. Why?”

John relaxed. “There’s some pictures in

there a little girl shouldn’t see.” Will lifted his
eyebrows. Probably that no one should see except
you.”

“Are these pictures that might be damaging to

a young mind?” John didn’t answer, which was
answer enough. Will shook his head. “You shouldn’t
be drawing things like that; what would we do if
people found it?”

“Start over,” John said simply.
“That’s your answer to everything,” Will

muttered. “I don’t want to start over again, John. I
like our life.”

“You’re my life,” John said. “Everything else is

just icing on the cake.”

Will stared at John, stunned. He’d never had

cause to doubt John’s affections, and he hoped that
John knew that those affections were returned, but
they rarely spoke words of love to each other.

“John, did something happen in the town?”
John rubbed his hands over his face, briefly

distorting his familiar features. “I wasn’t planning
on telling you. I wasn’t sure if I should.”

“We can’t have secrets between us, John. specially

not here.” Here in the west, where John was a
wanted man and Will’s damaged leg was much more
than a mild inconvenience.

John nodded and dropped his hands. “I know. I

know, but...” He sighed. “I was in the saloon, buying
more whisky when I heard some men talking. They
were drunk and talking louder than they probably
meant to, about a woman that they’d–” he glanced
back over at the unmoving, quilt-covered lump
behind “– shared. They were laughing about how
they’d made the husband watch and one of them said
that he wished they’d taken a turn with the girl.” His
voice lowered as he spoke the last few words, until it
was no more than a whisper.

Will suddenly felt cold. “You think they were

talking about Katie? Goddamn it. How many of them
were there?”

“Five.”
“Did you kill them?”

“I wanted to. It would’ve been so easy. They

were stupid with drink, not paying attention to who
was around them. I could’ve killed ‘em all before
they had a chance to draw a gun. No one would’ve
stopped me. Hell, I think the whores might’ve even
thanked me.”

“But you didn’t,” Will said through a throat so

tight it was getting hard to breathe. “Why?”

John looked over then, his eyes burning. Because

I made a promise to you, Will. As long as that promise
stands, I’ll never kill anyone again, except in self
defense.” He took a deep breath. But I’m asking you
now: release me. Release me from that promise so I
can go back to town and kill those bastards who hurt
that little girl and raped her mother and murdered
her family.”

Will stared at him, his heart pounding away in

his chest. Part of him wanted to say yes. Part of him
thought of those ruined, half-burned bodies and of
the little girl hiding away under her dead mother’s
ragged quilt and wanted to rain bloody vengeance
on those inhuman bastards.

But the other part of him, the better part, asked,

Who are you to play judge and jury? Who are you to
kill five men, because you would be killing them just
a surely as if you pulled the trigger yourself?

And part of him, a dark, shameful piece of

selfishness that he kept buried so deep that he
sometimes managed to forget it existed at all, that
part of him hated John at that moment, hated him
for forcing Will to make this decision, to be his
conscience.

“I can’t,” Will whispered painfully. “I’m sorry,

John, but I can’t.”

John stared at Will for a moment, before his

head dropped down between his shoulders, looking
utterly defeated. A moment later he stood up and
walked away into the darkness.

Will didn’t try to stop him.

Chapter 5

As twilight darkened into the true black of night,

so did Will’s mood. Initially, he’d taken comfort in
the fact that John had left without supplies and that
Butterscotch was still standing on the other side
of the fire, butting her nose into the long-suffering
Clarence’s withers. The longer John was gone,
however, the more aware Will was that John never
went anywhere without a healthy roll of bills in his
pocket and his guns on his hips. That town he’d gone
to for supplies couldn’t have been too far away if he’d
ridden there, scouted and purchased supplies, and
ridden back in an afternoon. ertainly close enough
to walk, if a man was determined. From there, it
would be easy to buy or rent a horse and ride to the
nearest town with a train station.

So in the morning, Will would ride for the closest

train station as well. He’d talk to John and hopefully
they could find a compromise. If not, he could at least
return Butterscotch to John and then maybe buy a
ticket as well. Will had plenty of money on him, more
than enough for a train ticket back to Boston ...

Boston. His city, where his beautiful, comfortable

house was, a house that Will had never appreciated
as much as he did now, as he remembered that the
house had been purchased with John’s money, back
when John’s money was all they had.

Will had his own money now, of course; his books

were very successful and he usually wrote several of
them every year. He could afford a house of his own,

for what that was worth. At the moment, it didn’t feel
like it would be worth much, but with Katie to worry
about –

Katie! Will’s head snapped up and he twisted

in his seat, looking for any sign of the girl. Not
seeing any movement or any girl-shaped shadows,
Will forced himself to his feet and limped over to
Clarence’s saddle, where he’d seen the girl last. ure
enough, a lumpy quilt was lying motionless on the
ground.

Will’s throat went dry as he took in the quilt’s

eerie stillness.

Resisting the urge to poke the lump, Will instead

knelt down on his good leg, searched out a corner of
the quilt, and carefully folded the blanket back.

He promptly let out a sigh of relief as he found

the girl underneath, her cheeks rosy and her hair
slightly damp with sleep sweat underneath the silk
shirt bandage. Carefully, Will reached out and used
a finger to drag a couple of strands of that hair away
from her eyes. Then, feeling deeply nostalgic for a
son who was growing up far too fast, Will gave into
the urge to run his fingers through the girl’s hair. It
was as silky and fine as he remembered Tommy’s
hair being, and he felt a pang of longing to see his
son.

That wasn’t possible, of course. Tommy was

already in Canada by now, undoubtedly having the
time of his life with his friends.

Maybe Will shouldn’t go to back to Boston. here

were a lot of interesting-sounding places in the
west, some just as modern and developed as the east

coast. Maybe he’d go to Chicago. It wasn’t too far
away and he’d always wanted to see the Windy City.
The Pinkertons were based there, and while most of
their work was in breaking unions, Will remember
reading a book about how one of their detectives had
tracked down the bodies of three children who had
gone missing. Surely someone like that would be
able to find Katie’s living relatives, if they existed.

“She still alive?”
Will nearly toppled over as he twisted around.
John was standing behind him, the flickering

firelight shadows making him look like he was
covered in dust. “John!”

“The girl,” John said patiently.
Will swallowed, and forced himself to turn back

to the girl. His fingers had gotten tangled up in
her hair and he carefully worked them free as he
answered. “She’s fine. Still no fever.”

No answer from John, just the sound of boots

crunching against the dirt. Will sighed and carefully
pulled the quilt up to Katie’s chin, then pushed
himself to his feet.

John was sitting on the other side of the fire and

in the better light Will could see that his grubbiness
wasn’t caused by shadows. “Where were you?”

“Digging graves.”
“In the dark? Without tools?”
“There was a shovel on the wagon.”
Will eased himself down next to John and stared

into the fire. “Wasn’t sure if you were coming back.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw John turn

his head. “All that book learning and you’re still an

idiot.”

Will felt the corners of his mouth twitch up a bit,

as the tightness in his belly finally eased. “I’m sorry
about the promise.”

John turned back to the fire. “I made my choice.

don’t regret it.”

The next morning they changed Katie’s bandages.

There still wasn’t any sign of infection, but the silk
was nearly soaked through so John made Katie
drink an entire canteen of water by herself before
beginning to wrap her head again, this time in the
clean gauze he’d purchased in town.

“How can we tell if the burn is healing?”

Will asked, eyeing the massive, seeping wound
doubtfully.

“It’ll scab over and dry up,” John said absently,

adjusting the gauze so it didn’t catch in the girl’s
hair.

“Wouldn’t it dry up faster if it was exposed to air?”
John’s hands paused. “Dr. Watkins always

covered the burns.”

Watkins, the doctor who’d lost 95% of his

patients. Katie was doing well so far, however, and
the bandages weren’t causing her any obvious pain,
so Will just nodded and went off to fix breakfast.

After eating, Will and John had a quiet, heated

discussion about what to do next. They both agreed
that they couldn’t remain where they were, not with
the killers of Katie’s family just a few miles away. ill
wanted to head east, to Wichita, where there was
sure to be a hospital. John wanted to head west, to a

small abandoned ranch house that he’d heard about
in town. Katie kept her opinions to herself, though
Will did notice the way she curled up into a ball
when their arguments grew a bit more vocal.

In the end, they decided to head south; they

were three days from Amarillo, which probably
had a hospital and definitely had a doctor. More
importantly, a railroad ran through the town, which
would cut off more than half of their remaining travel
time. The horses would undoubtedly be unhappy
with the situation – Will was dreading trying to get
Butterscotch onto a stock-car – but if it meant getting
the girl to Mrs. Potter a week and a half early, it was
worth the trouble. If there was one thing he and
John could agree on, it was that Mrs. otter would
know what to do.

The next couple of days passed quickly as Will

and John rode hard for Texas. They took few breaks
during the day, primarily to rest the horses, and both
nights all three of them crashed hard and fast into
sleep. After that first day, John declared himself too
tired to deal with Katie’s bandages and left them off;
that morning was the first opportunity that Will had
to see the burn in bright light and he was surprised
to find that within the weeping red wound were
patches of dry white skin the size of quarters.

“Is the skin supposed to look like that?” Will

whispered to John as Katie went off to do her
business behind a bush.

John sighed. “I’ve seen it before. None of them

made it as long as she has.”

“Did they feel pain?” Will was starting to worry

about that, too. At first the lack of pain had seemed
like a blessing. Coupled with the color of the skin,
however, Will was starting to think it was unnatural.

“Only when the doctor was treating them.” John

rubbed his face. “God, Will. How many of those
people died because of me?”

Will turned to face him, startled. “What do you

mean?”

“Look at her! She’s alive, not in any pain,

otherwise healthy ... do you think that would’ve been
true if you’d let me do Dr. Watkins’s treatment?”

Katie, who had just come from around the bush

when John had started shouting, froze for a half-
second before turning on her heel and heading over
to the horses. She promptly hid herself between
them.

John laughed humorlessly. “And now I’m scaring

her. Great. She barely looks at me as it is.”

“She’s just spent more time with me,” Will said

quietly. “She’ll get used to you, too, John.”

John blew out a lungful of air. “Come on,” he said

flatly. “We’re wasting daylight.”

The night before they reached Amarillo, Will and

John stayed up by the fire rather than laying out
their bedrolls. Katie looked as if she were planning
on staying up with them, but she wasn’t used to
the riding that they were doing and even bouncing
along on Clarence’s hindquarters was exhausting if
you did it long enough. Before night had fully fallen,
she was asleep.

“Think she’s out?” John asked quietly.

“Like a light. Thought about what we’re going to

do in Amarillo?”

John chewed on his lower lip. “It’s been nearly

eight years since my last robbery. More than ten
since the last time I stole anything in Texas. aybe
the posters aren’t up anymore.”

“Maybe.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Will sighed. “John Anderson books sell really

well in Texas.”

“Damn it. Times like these, I wish I never told

you to send that first story in.”

Will snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous, John. You love

those books more than I do. You love seeing little
kids reading them and talking about how much they
want to be like John Anderson.”

John opened his mouth and then closed it

again. Maybe.”

Will hid a smile.
“But it makes things difficult now,” John added. e

stared into the fire for a moment. “I could always go
as Charles Merriweather.”

“You don’t have time to regrow the beard; without

that, you’ll look just like you do in your wanted
posters. Besides–” Will poked a stick into the fire.
“Katie’s heard me calling you John.”

“What does that matter? She doesn’t speak.”
“She’s a kid, John. Trust me, she’ll decide to

speak at the worst possible moment and likely say
the worst possible thing.”

They sat in silence a few minutes longer, watching

the last traces of dusk fade from the sky. We’re at
least thirty miles from Amarillo,” Will said abruptly.

“Yeah,” John said warily. “If you’re worried about

the horses, they’ll –”

“I’m not thinking about the horses. We’re in ranch

country, John, and thirty miles is too far for a horse
and wagon to do in a day or even two. There must be
a supply post around here somewhere, probably on
the main trail. They may not have a sheriff’s station
or post office, but wanted posters still get put up,
usually in the general store. I could go in and see if
your poster is still up.”

John considered that. “We could use some more

food.”

“And Katie needs a new dress.” They both looked

at the girl, who was still wearing the same filthy,
threadbare rags as when they first found her. Or
two. Honestly, I don’t know that I’d feel comfortable
bringing her into Amarillo dressed like that.
Questions would be asked.”

“Questions that wouldn’t be asked in a supply

post?”

“Small towns and supply posts understand how

harsh the west is in ways that city folk don’t. I’ll say
she’s my niece and that she was attacked by Indians.
She clearly trusts me. They’ll believe it.”

“Unless she speaks.”
“Unless she speaks,” Will conceded. “Then there

might be trouble.”

“I’m going with you.”
Will turned to him, exasperated. “The whole

point of this is to see if you’re still wanted without

you getting arrested.”

“They aren’t going to know I’m there, Will. You

know I can move through a town without being
seen.”

Will felt a wash of affection as he remembered

those early days, before he and John had ever been
intimate with each other, when John had insisted on
accompanying Will on his annual cattle drive. nce
they’d reached their destination, John had snuck
into Will’s hotel room via the window to avoid
capture. “That was at night. And you had friends in
Bisbee.”

“I didn’t always have friends in Bisbee,” John

pointed out. “And I didn’t get caught then, either.” ill
opened his mouth to argue some more, but John
added, “I’ll be careful, Will. I’ll stay in the back ways
and the alleys, in the shadows.”

“It’s a risk,” Will said helplessly.
“So’s a man going into a town with a damaged

girl who isn’t his blood kin. I just want to be nearby
if there’s trouble. Tell me you wouldn’t do the same
if I was the one going into town.”

Will scowled, but he could hardly argue the point.

“You’ll be careful.” It was a command.

“I’ve done this before. I’ll be fine.” Will continued

to stare at him. John sighed. “Yes, I’ll be careful. I
promise.”

Will winced at the choice of words, but nodded

and turned back to the fire. He watched it in silence
for several long minutes, listening to the crackle as
the fire burnt away tiny pockets of sap, feeling the
shifting heat of the flames on his face as the night

wind brushed the hair away from his neck. The
smell of burning wood filled his nose, overpowering
John’s scent.

“I want to touch you,” Will said, hoarsely.
“God, yes,” John said, and the depth of longing

in his voice was startling. “She’s asleep.”

“But what if she wakes up and sees us?” The very

thought made Will’s balls crawl.

“You didn’t worry about Tommy seeing when you

and Molly kissed, did you?”

Will leveled a stare at him. “I’m not talking about

kissing.”

“I know. But I think kissing is the only thing we’re

going to be doing until we get to the ranch.”

“I’m afraid once we start kissing, we might move

on to other things,” Will admitted.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” John said, leaning

in to brush his lips across Will’s. Any thought of
protest fled Will’s mind as he reciprocated with
enthusiasm.

In the end, John had the right of it: they kissed

and comforted each other thoroughly by the fire, but
any time Will felt the urge to move his hands lower,
the thought of the little girl sleeping nearby stopped
him. Finally, though, the kissing got to be too much
without the possibility of going further and he pulled
back reluctantly. “We should get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” John said roughly, his eyes locked on

Will’s mouth. “Need to be awake for tomorrow.”

They stared at one another. “Sleep,” Will

reminded.

John let out a long breath. “Right, sleep.” He

shook his head and shifted over to his bedroll, which
was laid out next to Will’s.

Will dropped back onto his own bedroll and stared

up into the stars, trying to ignore the throbbing heat
between his legs.

“Will?” John said quietly.
“Yeah, John?”
“Next time we go on a vacation, let’s take the

train.”

“Amen to that,” Will muttered. He turned to his

side, facing away from temptation, and did his best
to think of anything at all other than sex. This was
looking to be a very long night.

The next morning, both Will and John were

inclined to be irritable. Katie put up with it for a few
minutes before going to hide between the horses.
Will watched her go with a niggling of guilt in his
stomach, but decided it was probably best for her to
stay out of the way until he and John had consumed
enough coffee to be human.

“Butterscotch has really taken to the girl, hasn’t

she?” Will commented after guzzling down his first
cup.

John looked over blearily; he looked like he’d

gotten even less sleep than Will. “That’s because the
girl keeps bribing her with my candy.”

Since Will knew perfectly well that John slipped

candy to both Katie and Butterscotch every chance
he got, he just hid his smile into his cup and set
about getting the breakfast ready.

Civilization, when they found it just before noon,

proved to be a village nestled into a shallow hollow
in the earth. As they topped the rise just before the
hollow, Will and John both stopped to take in the long
main drag of façade-fronted buildings, with three
intersecting side streets lined with residences. That
is not a supply post,” John said flatly.

“Must be more ranchers out here than I

thought,” ill admitted. “But it’ll make shopping
for supplies easier. And a better chance for finding
certain posters.”

John frowned, but nodded. “Don’t forget more

candy.”

Will smiled. “Top of my list. Stay safe. Don’t let

anyone see you.”

“You stay out of trouble.” John’s hand lifted as if he

meant to reach out to Will, but his eyes flicked back
to Katie, precariously perched on Will’s saddlebags,
and the hand dropped. “Don’t take too long.”

“We won’t. Katie, you got a good grip?” Will felt

a nod against his back and, with one quick glance
back at John, he kicked Clarence into a canter.

After four years in Boston, Will found that all but

the biggest of Western cities looked small to his eyes.
Objectively speaking, however, he had to admit
that this particular town was of a significant size.
Certainly it was larger than the small town that had
been the supply point for his own ranch; there had
to be logging or mining in the area to keep a town
of this size in business. No less than five saloons
dotted the street, as well as a bank, two hotels, a
general store with a post office shingle hanging in

the window, a hardware store, an outfitter, a barber,
a restaurant, and, oddly, a dress shop. Will’s gaze
lingered on that latter establishment, but he couldn’t
imagine it would have ready-made dresses available
and he wasn’t about to wait for a dress to be tailored
for the girl. hatever was available in the general
store would have to suffice.

There was also a sheriff’s station and Will gave

that building more consideration. The smart thing
to do, what he should do, was to go straight into that
station, report the murder of Katie’s family, and use
that opportunity to look for any wanted posters. f
he did that, however, the girl would be immediately
removed from Will’s care, as he wasn’t her blood kin.
That was not acceptable. After all of the terrible tales
John had shared about his life in the orphanage, Will
wasn’t about to abandon Katie into the merciless
hands of public charity.

Not that Will had come around to the idea of

adopting the girl himself. The very idea of two men
living with a young girl was positively indecent. ven
if she was related to them, questions would be raised.
Without a blood connection, the question was an
impossible one.

Unfortunately, that didn’t leave Will with a clear

path forward. It would be one thing if Katie was a
happy, healthy girl; she was pretty enough and fairly
young and there undoubtedly would be families in
Boston who would want to adopt her. A traumatized,
disfigured child, on the other hand, would not be
very appealing to prospective families. ill could
all too easily see how the girl could end up in a

situation that would make John’s orphanage look
like a paradise.

The only thing he was sure of was that he couldn’t

risk revealing Katie’s identity to a stranger. rs. Potter
would hopefully know what to do, if they could get
the girl to her, and if she failed them, both Will and
John – especially John – had influence in Boston.
The girl would find a home, a happy one.

At the moment, however, it would be unfortunate

if anyone in town realized that he and Katie were
strangers to one another, so as soon as Clarence was
safely stabled for the afternoon, Will pulled Katie
into the shadow of the barn and gracelessly crouched
down before her. “Katie, before we go to the store, I
need to ask a favor. If anyone asks me who you are,
I’m going to tell them you’re my niece. hat I need
you to do is agree with me, okay? If they ask if you
are my niece, you just nod. Can you do that for me?”

Katie frowned. Will sighed. “It’s lying, I know. ut

it’s really important that no one knows we’re not
kin. If they find out, they’ll take you away.” An
unpleasant thought occurred to him. “Unless you
don’t want to stay with us?” After all, she was never
meant to be a prisoner. Fortunately, Katie shook
her head rigorously, relieving Will’s mind. “Then
I’m afraid we’re going to have to be liberal with the
truth. Hopefully no one will ask, but if they do, are
you willing to pretend to be my niece?”

This time Katie nodded without hesitation.
“Good girl.” Will pushed himself back to his feet

with a wince. “Come on. We have a lot of supplies
to buy.”

The next few hours were a blur of goods and the

men and women who sold them. They started at the
general store, where Will found a small selection
of ready-made dresses. The sizes left much to be
desired, however; clearly most of the local girls
made their own clothes. In the end, he had to pay the
shopkeeper an extra two dollars to hem the skirt; the
end result was a plain patterned dress that probably
would’ve been cheaper to buy at the dressmaker, if
not faster.

As the plump woman measured Katie’s legs, Will

looked through the other ready made clothes and he
hesitated over the boys’ trousers and shirts.  ingering
the rough canvas cloth, he came to a decision.
“I think we’d like a set of these as well.”  hen the
woman’s eyebrows shot up, he added,  Everything
in the wagon was lost in the fire.  atie’s about the
same size as her brother.”

Thankfully, despite all of Will’s dire predictions,

Katie did not spontaneously choose this moment
to begin speaking again and the woman accepted
the explanation without further comment. She also
accepted a long list of additional supplies that they
would need, to be picked up on their way out of town.

Next stop was the livestock market, which was

mostly empty this time of year, but which had a
few horses for sale. Will didn’t have John’s eye for
horseflesh, but he looked over the stock carefully
and dutifully checked the teeth of a few of the more
docile animals. In the end he chose a plodding pony
that trundled placidly around the paddock. ohn
would undoubtedly mock Will for his choice, but the

pony looked far too sedate to ever spook with a young
child on its back and besides, Katie’s tight shoulders
softened slightly as the pony lipped affectionately at
her fingers.

Packhorse in tow, they went to the outfitters

for a saddle, bags, bedroll, and a third set of tin
eating utensils. As Will mulled over the options
for each, he noticed Katie hovering near a pile
of silk handkerchiefs that were no doubt aimed
for greenhorns and the gentlemen miners that
periodically came west. Some of the clothes were
dyed in jewel-bright colors, and Katie’s eyes lingered
most lovingly on a bright red square of fabric. Will
told himself that a silk handkerchief was a ridiculous
item in the dry and dusty west. An indulgent piece of
frippery. A waste of money. hat didn’t stop him from
adding one to the top of his pile of purchases and the
look on Katie’s face when he handed it to her made
it impossible to regret his decision.

Once outside, Katie carefully folded her present

and tucked it away in the pocket of her filthy
dress. corner of the handkerchief stuck out of
the pocket, looking ridiculous against the cheap
flower-patterned cotton, but Katie clearly didn’t
care. ctually, she almost looked happy as they
walked along the boardwalk, heading back to the
general store with the new saddlebags draped over
Will’s shoulder, ready to be filled.

Suddenly, Katie tensed and ducked behind

Will. ill managed not to startle at the abrupt
movement, but he frowned at the sudden shift in her
behavior and looked around to see what might’ve

spooked her.

Nothing immediately caught his eye. It was a

weekday, which meant thinner crowds – the cowboys
usually managed to spend most of their Friday pay
during the weekends – and more women than men.
Will couldn’t imagine why Katie would be afraid of
any of the women, so he focused on the men: mostly
travelers, with the odd prospector and rancher.
Layabouts and scoundrels would be in one of the
town saloons, but those were farther down the street
and this time of day the rail in front of the saloons
was empty, so the most obvious suspects weren’t the
problem.

Unfortunately, none of the other men on the

street looked particularly dangerous either. Will
considered his options and whispered, “Katie, I’m
going to back up into the door behind me. If you
want to stay hidden, you should back up, too. ouch
my arm if you understand.” Grubby fingers brushed
over his elbow. “Good. I’m backing up now.”

The entire affair proved less awkward than Will

feared, mainly because the door of the building – he
bank, as it turned out – was already open and because
Katie ducked through the door without waiting for
Will. Impediment removed, Will didn’t bother with
backing up and turned to walk in after her.

Inside it was cool and quiet, despite the half dozen

people lined up at the counter. Will had noticed that
about banks; quieter than libraries, most of them.
This particular specimen looked to be rather more
lavish than most western banks: the ceiling was
high enough that Will couldn’t touch it with his arms

stretched up, windows were cut into the walls both
at the front of the building and at the side, and there
were two tellers manning the counter, with a shiny
brass scale between them that meant it was mining
that was feeding the town, probably gold, maybe
silver.

Both tellers were busy with scruffy, unwashed

men; Will could smell them from where he was
standing by the door. Three or four other people
were standing in line, and Will had just enough time
to see that one of them was a well-dressed woman
when his attention was caught by the way that Katie
immediately ran over to a corner and tucked herself
into a little ball in the space beneath the front and
side window.

Will frowned, but the silence of the room kept him

from speaking out loud. Instead he moved closer to
her and murmured, just barely above his breath,
“Katie, I need you to tell me why you’re so scared.”
Of course she didn’t respond, so he added, If you
don’t tell me, I can’t protect you from him. Or her.
Or ... it.” He sighed. “You don’t have to actually say
anything. Just point me in the right direction.”

Katie considered that for a second before rising

to her knees and leaning forward to point out the
window. Will followed her pointing finger to a dandy
man, dressed in silks and finery better suited for a
woman’s fancy dress than a man’s suit. “Him?” ill
said doubtfully, pointing at the dandy. Katie nodded
and retreated back to her corner. “Why?”

Katie just whimpered and wrapped her arms

around herself, rocking slightly.

Will’s stomach turned queasy. “He’s not – he’s

not the one who hurt your family, is he?”

She nodded. Will cursed quietly, then cursed

again more loudly as he realized the dandy man was
moving in the direction of the bank. Behind him, he
heard a feminine voice murmuring disapprovingly.

Ignoring the commotion he was causing, Will

dropped the saddlebags and stripped off his coat. e
handed it to Katie. “Sit as far back in the corner as
possible and cover yourself with that. No matter
what you hear, you stay covered, all right?”

Katie nodded quickly and pushed even farther

back into the corner under the windows. As soon as
she stopped moving Will draped the saddlebags over
her, making it look like nothing more than a pile of
supplies waiting for its owner to finish his banking.

Not a moment too soon, either; Will had just

shifted over to stand at the back of the line when the
dandy man stepped inside. “My, my, my,” the man
said. “What a charming little bank.” He managed
to sound somewhat menacing, despite the fact that
he was wearing a scarlet bow-tie, a bright green
waistcoat, and what looked to be an eagle’s feather
glued to the side of his bowler.

Far more menacing, however, were the two

men who entered the bank and flanked him. The
new arrivals were more plainly dressed in cotton
shirts without cuffs or collars and rough-hewn
laborers’ ants. All of which went right out of Will’s
mind the moment the two men pulled their guns.

“Gentlemen – and lady,” the dandy man

proclaimed, winking at the sole female. The lady

was dressed a cut above what Will would expect to
see out west, and her big eyes and patrician nose
put him in the mind of some of the pretty things that
threw themselves at John in Boston. This woman
didn’t look much like the type to throw herself
at anyone, however, and she looked right down
that long straight nose at the dandy, decidedly
unimpressed.

The dandy’s smile slipped for a moment, though

Will could hardly imagine how the dandy could be
so surprised that a lady wouldn’t be impressed with
his tacky finery. The man recovered, however, and
plastered on a wide, fake-looking grin as he continued
on with his patter. “As I’m sure you’re already well
aware, we are the Gentlemen Robbers! y name is
Charming Charlie Charleston and I’ll be your host
for this robbery.”

Will felt his eyebrows trying to reach his hairline.

Charming Charlie? Gentlemen robbers? as the
man serious? Frankly, it was hard to imagine that
these men were really the people who had attacked
Katie’s family. They didn’t seem competent enough,
especially after years of writing John’s exploits.

Charming Charlie stepped forward toward

the line, his eyes moving right past Will to the
woman. ehind him, the two men with guns bypassed
the line and went to the counter. One held his gun on
the tellers, while the other jumped over the counter
with surprising nimbleness. Their movements were
quick and practiced, as if they’d gone through these
exact same motions many times before, but Will’s
attention was drawn away from them and back to

the dandy as the overdressed man pulled a canvas
bag from his pocket and held it out to the portly,
expensively dressed gentleman standing next to
the woman. “Money, watch, jewelry,” Charlie said,
clearly speaking to the man, though his eyes were
locked on the woman. “Anything that might fetch a
fair price.”

The portly man scowled. “This watch is a family

heirloom. It’s been in my family for generations.”

Charming Charlie finally turned from the woman,

his attention moving down to the watch chain that
stretched across the other man’s stomach. he portly
man’s face started to turn red as Charlie reached out
with one finger to lift the watch out of its pocket by
the chain. “How dare you –”

“No!” Charlie shouted. Will flinched in surprise

at the yell. “How dare you?” Charlie continued.

“You and your ilk, you selfish overfed worms

with your hoarded wealth.” Charlie’s hand came
up to grip the portly man’s shoulder and the man
winced. Bastards like you are everything that is
wrong with this country!” The older man blustered,
but didn’t have a chance to say anything more
before Charming Charlie punched him in the
stomach. hen Charlie pulled back his fist, there
was blood everywhere, and the glint of a knife was
visible between his fingers.

Charlie tutted, his voice suddenly sharp and clear

again, with none of the gravelly hate that had filled
his last sentence. “Honestly now, look what you made
me do.” Looking calm as could be, he whipped a silk
handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the blood

on his hands. The fabric wasn’t doing much good,
however, and the blood mostly ended up smeared
over his fingers. With a sigh, Charlie discarded the
stained hanky and reached for another, completely
ignoring the wounded man bleeding out at his feet
or the way that the bank patrons were staring on in
horror.

Will swore under his breath and shifted back

slowly, trying to get a better look out of the windows.
If the gang only consisted of these three men, then
maybe all of the patrons could rush the robbers at
the same time and –

There was a man outside standing right next

to the window, dressed much the same as the two
robbers at the counter. He was looking in through
the glass with a grim expression on his face that
turned positively dire when he caught sight of Will
looking out, and he pulled the side of his jacket back,
exposing a weapon.

Will swore again and turned back toward the

bank, where Charlie had apparently abandoned his
attempts to clean his knife and had now sidled up to
the woman. He reached out and took a gloved hand
with his blood-streaked one. His lips curled up in
a smile that might’ve been charming once upon a
time, but now looked like the rictus of death. My
goodness. I would never have imagined that I would
find such a lovely prairie rose in such a dusty little
town.” He lifted the gloved hand to his lips.

The woman paled and her throat worked as she

swallowed, but her voice was clear and crisp when
she spoke. “You will unhand me, sir, or I will scream.”

Charlie’s awful smile turned conspiratorial. I’ll

tell you a secret, my dear. My friend Hank – he
gentleman over there next to the safe – well, he
rather enjoys it when a woman screams. Not the most
socially understood preference, but I always thought
it a bit hard that he should be denied a woman’s
touch just because of a few eccentricities. e make
allowances.” Will felt the contents of his stomach
curdle as Charlie added. “You know, you’re just the
type of woman he likes best.”

The woman was holding herself so rigidly now

that she looked like a sharp blow would shatter
her. er hand was still in the grip of Charlie’s and
her lips were pressed tight enough that they were
nearly white. Will ached to go to her, to fight the
dandy bastard off, but he was painfully aware of the
barely-hidden girl in the corner. The thought of what
would happen to Katie if Will got himself killed was
unbearable.

Suddenly the woman pursed her lips and spit in

Charlie’s eye. As he stumbled back, wiping at his
eye and leaving streaks of blood on his face, she
screamed.

Charlie stood upright, his face furious and his

hands clenched into fists. “You cunt!”

The woman just stared at him, her head held

high. Charlie snarled and lunged at her and Will
had just taken a step forward to intervene when the
window next to him shattered and the air filled with
the sound of gunfire.

Will dove into the corner of the room, covering

Katie as best he could; coat, saddlebags and

all. ehind him he could hear screams and the
loud retorts of half a dozen revolvers going off, the
cacophony echoing off of the high ceilings and
building up on itself until the sound was so loud Will
almost felt like he could reach out and touch it. crid
gunsmoke teased its way into Will’s nose and his
spine clenched as he anticipated the hot blaze of a
bullet burrowing into his back.

Suddenly the room fell silent. Will’s ears burned

with the lack of sound and for a second he stayed
where he was, just in case the lull was a temporary
one. The need to know what had happened was too
great, however, and he lifted his head. From where
he was crouched, he could see out the shattered
window, where two men were lying dead in the
street. Standing over their bodies was John.

Will sucked in a startled breath of air and stood

up abruptly, turning around to take in the aftermath
inside the bank. Charming Charlie Charleston and
his two accomplices were lying dead. The man
Charlie had knifed looked like he might be dead,
too. All of the other people in the bank were slowly
pushing themselves to their feet, looking dazed.

All of them except for the woman, who was lying

on the floor, curled up on her side.

Dread pieced Will’s gut as he moved toward her,

feeling as if he was moving slower than usual, as if
he was wading through a river of molasses. Ma’am,”
he said thickly, his throat so tight it was hard to force
the word out. “Ma’am, are you all right?”

The woman moaned and turned over onto her

back, revealing the knife sticking out of her gut.

Will hissed and fell to his knees next to the

woman, ignoring the pain that immediately shot up
his bad thigh. “Stay still,” he ordered as he wrapped
his hand around the handle of the knife. e didn’t
give her time to think or question before wrenching it
out with one sharp pull. Blood immediately bubbled
out of her stomach like water from a spring and Will
flattened his hands over the wound, trying to hold in
as much blood as he could.

All around him, men were slowly climbing to their

feet, looking dazed and confused. “Help me!” ill
shouted at them. “Someone get me a goddamn
doctor!”

One of the others, a young man wearing miner’s

clothing, ran out the door.

Will turned his attention back to the woman. he

was staring back at him, her eyes locked on his. No
need for the boy to rush,” she rasped. “I’m dying.”

“Don’t you say that,” Will choked out. “Don’t you

dare say that.”

The woman’s lips turned up and Will took some

comfort from that, and from the lack of blood staining
those lips. Her face was mighty pale, however, and
only getting paler as blood slid slickly through Will’s
fingers and puddled on the floor. So much goddamn
blood: Will could feel it soaking through the legs
of his pants, could feel the warmth of it as it ran
through his fingers.

Will drew in a shaky breath. “Is there anyone I

can get for you? Your husband, maybe?”

The woman turned her head slightly, in the

direction of the portly man. “My husband’s right

here beside me,” she murmured. “And I’ll be joining
him soon.”

Will looked over to see that the portly man had

definitely gone from this world. The writer in him
noted that the dead man looked rather grey to be
with this fine woman and immediately tried to come
up with a story for them, for why such a lovely
woman had married such an older man, for how
the two of them had ended up in a small town thirty
miles from the nearest railroad, for what the two of
them were doing that had resulted in them having
the misfortune to be in this precise bank at this
precise time.

Then the woman gasped and Will pushed his

curiosity aside. “Stay with me, ma’am. The doctor’ll
be here soon.” Please let the doctor come soon. Let
that be why the boy had run out of the bank.

The woman gasped again. “It’s time,” she

breathed, so softly that Will could barely hear the
words. “Oh, Annabelle.” Her eyes widened for
just a moment, then went dull and flat. The blood
springing out from under Will’s hands, which had
been pumping out slower for the last minute or so,
stopped entirely.

Will sat back on his heels, his arms dropping

down to lay limply against his sides. He could hear
a fly buzzing somewhere in the room, but couldn’t
take his eyes away from the woman’s body.

The door to the bank burst open and rough

hands dragged Will away from the woman. Will
didn’t protest as a grizzled man with a black bag
knelt down next to the body and put his fingers on

its throat. “Too late,” the doctor said, reaching up to
close the woman’s eyes before going over to do the
same for the man. “Might as well load them up. I’ll
put them in my cellar until Jedediah gets back from
visiting his sister.”

Some of what Will was feeling must’ve

shown on his face, because a voice next to him
added, Jedediah’s the coffin-maker.”

Will looked over to see who was speaking and

found half a dozen men were crowded into the room.
One of them had a badge pinned to his lapel. You
okay, son?” the sheriff asked, though he couldn’t
have been much more than a year or two older than
Will.

Will glanced around the room, seeing the bodies

of the three robbers and the husband and wife. here
was no one visible behind the counter. “The tellers?”
he rasped.

“They’re fine. Went out the back door when the

shooting started.”

Will nodded numbly. “The shooting – was that

you?”

“I was one of the ones shooting but, truth be told,

most of the actual killing was done by a gunman. I
would’ve shaken his hand but he didn’t stick around
long enough.”

“Not someone from town?”
“Nope. Real lucky he was passing through, I

guess.”

Will frowned. The words themselves didn’t

sound so dangerous, but there was something in the
sheriff’s tone. He turned to see the sheriff staring

right at him, a speculative look on his face. “Yes, sir,”
the man said. “Real lucky.”

Dammit. Will reached up to rub his face, but

stopped as he saw his hands were gloved in red. e
dropped them with a sigh. “I’m guessing you have
some questions for me.”

“Just a few.”
Will stared at the floor for a moment, considering.

On the one hand, he hadn’t done anything wrong
and he wasn’t seriously worried about himself. On
the other hand, he had no idea where John was,
Katie was still hiding in the corner, and Will was
covered in a dead woman’s blood. At that moment,
the last thing he wanted to do was answer questions.

Still, this was a perfect excuse to see the inside of

the sheriff’s office.

Will dragged himself to his feet, feeling his

bad leg protest sharply. He didn’t miss the way
the sheriff glanced down at Will’s wince, nor the
way he watched Will limp over to the corner of the
room. Katie, you still alive?” Will asked quietly as he
rifled through the meager contents of the saddlebag.
The coat moved slightly, like it was being brushed by
a young girl’s nodding head. Good. I’m going over
to the sheriff’s office. As soon as it gets quiet in here,
I want you to take the bags and my coat and head
north to where we were going to meet up with John.
Can you do that for me?”

A bit of a pause, then the coat shifted again.
“Be careful,” Will added as he pulled an empty

hand out of the saddlebag, his fingers curled up in
a loose fist. He slid that hand into his pocket as he

turned to the sheriff. “Okay, I’m ready.”

The sheriff’s eyebrows lifted. “Don’t want to

bring your supplies?”

“I got my money,” Will said. “Nothing else in

there worth much. Besides, I want to wash the blood
off before I spread it any further.”

The sheriff acknowledged the merits of the

statement and led Will out the door. At the last
moment, Will looked back to see the rest of the men
stacking up the bodies of the dead in preparation
for hauling them out the door. No one seemed to be
looking at the pile of covered girl in the corner.

Reassured, Will let himself be led away.

The sheriff’s office wasn’t anything fancy: raw

unpainted wooden floor and walls, with a rough-
hewn desk and chairs and two small cells in the
back. The room was clean, however, and the wanted
posters that dotted the wall were neatly organized.
Will tried to look casual as he ran his eyes over the
posters; none of them had a close likeness of John,
but the fancy printing made it impossible for him to
unobtrusively read the names as he skimmed over
the pictures.

“Looking for anyone in particular?” the sheriff

asked.

Will felt his face heat. “Just curious. I write

frontier novels.”

The sheriff sat behind the desk and gestured for

Will to take the other chair. Will couldn’t help but
notice that the guest seat looked considerably less
comfortable than the sheriff’s. “Really now? Any I

might’ve heard of?”

“Ah ... the John Anderson novels? Though I’ve

recently begun working on a mystery novel set in
Boston. Don’t have to go as far for research.”

“Is that why you’re here? For research?”
“Partially. I used to have a ranch in Arizona and

figured riding out there from Omaha might give me
some ideas for my next book.”

The sheriff pulled a cigarillo out of his pocket

and took his time lighting it. Will did his best not to
squirm. “That’s a long ride.”

“It is,” Will said quickly. “But I just turned in my

latest manuscript and my son just went abroad. I
needed to fill some time.”

“Hm.” The sheriff eyed Will through the smoky

haze of his cigarillo. When he spoke again, however,
it was to ask what happened at the bank. ill tried
to hide his relief as he gave as detailed an account
as possible, leaving out nothing aside from Katie’s
presence. When he finished the tale, he added, “The
woman – when she died she was asking for someone
named Annabelle. Do you know who that might be?”

The sheriff shook his head. “Didn’t know either

of those folks all that well. They just arrived a few
weeks ago, looking to be some kinda gentlemen
miners.”

Will winced. “You get many of those?”
“Some. Easterners who come out seem to think

that the only kind of mines that exist are metal mines
and tend to be mighty disappointed when they find
out we mostly mine cement. Usually they head south
to the copper and silver mines near the border.”

“But this couple chose to stay.”
“They might’ve been planning to stake a claim. I

understand they were waiting for a check to clear.”

That was undoubtedly why they were at the bank.

Will shook his head.

“I also understand that you were going about town

with a young girl this morning.” Will tensed. What
happened to her?”

Will opened his mouth to answer, then realized

that he’d well and truly painted himself into a
corner. When he’d told Katie to run, he had been
acting on instinct, wanting her far away from the
death and ugly memories that that bank had held. t
hadn’t occurred to him that the sheriff would want
to question him about what had happened, nor that
anyone in town would’ve paid enough attention to
him and Katie to have noticed her disappearance.

He was still trying to come up with an answer

when the sheriff added, “What about the gunman? id
you happen to know him?”

Will smothered his first instinct, which was to

offer a quick and decisive no, and said as calmly as
he could, “I don’t know. I didn’t see him. As for the
girl –” he sighed “ – she was in the bank with me.”

The sheriff’s eyes sharpened behind the smoke. I

didn’t see her there.”

“She was in the corner, hiding under my coat and

saddlebags.”

“And you left her there?” the sheriff said

incredulously.

“Actually, I told her to run the moment the coast

was clear.” Will managed a twisted smile. “I thought

if you knew about her, you’d try and take her. I can’t
have that.”

“Really,” the sheriff said dryly. “And why is that?”
So Will told another story, this one of his finding

Katie’s dead family and their burned out wagon. his
time he left out any mention of John, but as there
was no evidence of him and John actually knowing
each other – Will was starting to think that the
sheriff had just mentioned the gunman to throw Will
off balance about Katie – the sheriff didn’t seem as
suspicious as before. At least, not suspicious about
there being anything missing from the story. he way
his eyes narrowed as Will talked about being alone
with Katie held plenty of suspicion.

“Why didn’t you report the murders?” the sheriff

asked the moment Will’s story was done. “That
should’ve been the first thing you did when you
came into this town.”

“I know,” Will admitted. “I wanted to. But I wasn’t

going to let strangers take Katie away from me.” He
drew in his breath and prepared to lie as he’d never
lied before. “Truth is, I grew up in an orphanage.
I know what those places are like, especially for a
girl. And a girl like Katie, who is traumatized and
disfigured and mute – her life wouldn’t be worth
living.”

“And it’ll be better with you, will it?”
“She’s not going to live with me. It wouldn’t be

appropriate.” The sheriff laughed lightly at that,
for some reason, but Will ignored it and blundered
on. My old ranch is a school for orphans. It’s run by
a woman I trust. I was going to leave Katie with her.”

The sheriff went still. “This ranch – it wouldn’t

have been in Dead Horse, would it?”

Will tensed. “Why?”
“Damn,” the sheriff said, dropping the cigarillo

into a mug on the desk. He suddenly looked ten
years older. “A couple of boys, teenagers, showed up
in town a few months ago. Said they were from a
school in Dead Horse.”

“They ran away?” Will asked, almost hopefully.
“No. They said the school marm had made them

leave, made all of the boys leave. She wouldn’t tell
them why. Not long after, we got a telegraph. yphoid
wiped out the whole town.”

Will fell back into his chair. “Shit.”
“Amen.” The sheriff lit another cigarillo, but

this time he puffed on it without extra drama. “Still
planning on taking the girl with you?”

“We were planning on picking up the train

in Amarillo; guess I’ll be heading east instead of
west. ong as she’s in Boston, I can keep an eye on
her.”

The sheriff nodded. “Should probably go, then.

hate to think of a little girl all alone outside of town.”

Will sighed and stood up. “Thank you, sheriff.”
“Thank you, Mr. Connors.” When Will stared at

him, the sheriff grinned. “I’m rather partial to those
John Anderson books. Silly, but enjoyable all the
same. Never thought I’d get to meet the author.”

“Never thought I’d meet many folks out west who

read them,” Will admitted. “They’re mostly meant
for people who’ve never crossed the Mississippi.”
After a moment, he added, “You don’t happen to

have a wanted poster for Mr. Anderson, do you? I’ve
never seen one up close.”

“Wish I did, so I could have you sign it. But he

never came this far east and he hasn’t robbed so
much as a quilting circle in years now. Too many
posters coming in to keep any that are that out of
date.”

Will nodded, hiding his relief, and turned to leave.

At the door, he turned back. “One more thing, sheriff.
That woman who died today – you don’t happen to
know her name, do you?” The sheriff’s eyebrows
raised in question. “I was thinking I could maybe
track Annabelle down, tell her what happened.”

“Awful kindly of you,” the sheriff said, though

there wasn’t much more than a hint of suspicion in his
voice. “Believe they were known as the Pendergasts.
I’m guessing they came from one of the bigger cities
back east. Seemed mighty shocked at how slim the
pickings were at our general store.”

Since Will had considered the general store to

be surprisingly well stocked, he wondered at the
couple’s expectations. Clearly they hadn’t been
out west before, which might aid in finding them
again. ith that in mind, Will nodded to the sheriff
and went off to find a telegraph.

When Will finally made it to the meeting site

south of town, it was nearly dusk and he was ready
to drop from exhaustion. He’d barely had a chance to
slip off Clarence’s back, however, before a girl-sized
cannonball slammed into his side and proceeded to
try and squeeze the stuffing out of him.

“We were getting worried,” John said, though he

didn’t move from his seat on the other side of the
fire. In the uncertain light his shadowed eyes looked
like pools of darkness.

“Sheriff had some questions,” Will said, hoisting

the girl up to return her hug. She promptly latched
her arms around his neck and refused to let go. Then
I had to pick up the supplies.” And to have a bath to
wash the blood off, not that he would say so with the
girl so close to hand.

“What’d the sheriff want to know?”
“If I knew you.” Will gave Katie one last squeeze,

then put her down gently but firmly so he could tend
to Clarence and the new packhorse. The girl stayed
close to his side the entire time, so close that he
nearly tripped over her.

“What’d you tell him?”
There was suspicion in John’s voice and Will

sighed. “That I didn’t know because I hadn’t seen
you, but that it wasn’t likely. I think he believed me.
He seemed more curious about where Katie went to
and what she was doing with me.”

John grunted and went back to poking at the fire.
A mite annoyed by the man’s silence, not to

mention the fact that he wasn’t helping at all with
either the horses or the girl, Will didn’t speak again
as he stripped all of the equipment off of Clarence
and wiped him and the packhorse down. Clarence
was unusually playful, possibly due to the day in a
barn with a bucket of oats, which didn’t help Will’s
mood in the slightest. He staked the two of them
down as quickly as possible and dragged the food

bags over to the fire.

Dinner was quiet, both in the preparation and the

eating. Will didn’t have much appetite; every time
he blinked he saw Mrs. Pendergast’s face and felt
the hot press of blood welling up under his palms.
His shirt cuffs were liberally stained with the stuff
and after the hundredth or so time that his eye
caught on the dark patches, he ripped them off and
threw them into the fire.

“The sheriff said the ranch is gone,” Will said

abruptly, unable to take the silence anymore and
desperate to change the direction of his thoughts.

“What?” John said incredulously.
“Typhoid, apparently. Wiped out the whole town.”
“How do they know? If everyone’s dead, who told

them that everyone died?”

“I was wondering about that, too,” Will

admitted. It seems odd that no one at all survived.
There were several hundred people between the
town and the ranches and they weren’t all drinking
the same water.”

“So we’re still planning on going to the ranch?”
“You think we shouldn’t?”
John threw a stick at the fire, kicking up a spray

of sparks. “Wasn’t sure I was going to see you at all.”

Will turned to stare. “What?”
“I broke my promise.”
“You were saving my life,” Will said flatly. “And

Katie’s life and the life of everyone else in that bank.
You have nothing to apologize for.” He turned back
to the fire. “If anyone here is at fault, it’s me.”

John snorted. “I can’t see how. You kept Katie

safe, you tried to save that woman –”

“That woman died because of me!”
“What the hell are you talking about, Will?”
Will glared at him. “Didn’t you recognize

them? hose were the same men that killed Katie’s
family.”

John opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“That dandy fellow did look kinda familiar.”

When Will continued to glare, John added, “I didn’t
get a good look at him! You told me to hide in the
alleys; I didn’t come out until I heard the woman
scream.”

Will remembered that moment in exquisite,

painful clarity. The woman had screamed, Charlie
had hit her, and then the shooting had started. econds
had passed, at most. “It was them,” Will said, more
quietly. “Katie recognized them. And if I’d just let
you kill them before, when you wanted to, that
woman and her husband would still be alive.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” John said. “You can’t know

the future.”

“I can damn well know that if you’d killed

Charming Charlie a week ago, he wouldn’t have
killed a woman today!”

“Maybe someone else would have. Banks get

robbed all the time.”

“Why are you trying to talk me out of my guilt?” ill

nearly shouted. “You were the one who wanted to
kill him in the first place!”

“Because I love you,” John said bluntly, diffusing

the tension between the two of them. “And because
you’re a good man, Will, the best man I’ve ever

known.”

Will’s eyes burned. “I love you, too, John,” he

said softly, acutely aware that he’d never said those
words before, not to John. They stared at each other
in the firelight and Will ached, desperately wanting
to reach out and touch John’s face, but being held
back for some urgent reason, though at that moment
he couldn’t have said what that reason was.

They might’ve stayed there forever, staring their

feelings at each other, if one of the horses hadn’t
snorted. Will startled at the sound and John twisted
around so he was facing the fire. “Katie needs to be
put to bed,” he said quietly.

Katie. Right. Will sucked in a deep breath, trying

to loosen his tight chest, and pushed himself to his
feet. “We’re not done talking,” he said firmly as he
went off to take care of the girl.

When he came back to the fire, John was stretched

out on his bedroll, eyes shut and back turned away
from Will.

Will woke to a scream. For a moment he thought

the scream was a continuation of his dream; the
woman had just spit in Charlie’s eye. hen the scream
came again and Will bolted to his feet. Out of the
corner of his eye, he saw John doing the same, but
Will put that aside as he ran over to where Katie was
lying on her brand new bedroll. The quilt, which had
been carefully tucked in around Katie’s tiny body
when Will had put her to bed, was now rumpled
and half in the dirt and the hair around her face
was dark with sweat. She was whimpering now, not

screaming, and somehow those quiet, pained noises
were even worse than her yells. Will fell to his knees
next to her and pulled the little girl into an embrace,
murmuring, It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

Katie had had nightmares before. How could she

not? Before, however, she’d been mostly quiet in
her dreams. If Will was awake when the nightmares
started, he would sooth her equally quietly and she
would drift back to a peaceful sleep. e suspected
there were a lot of times that he wasn’t awake when
the nightmares started, but she always looked alert
enough in the mornings so he didn’t worry.

He was worried now, even more so when Katie

started to thrash in his arms. “Shh,” he said, shooting
a desperate look over her shoulder at John.

“Wake her up,” John said, his voice sounding

hoarse and raw. “Nightmares like that – waking her
up is a kindness.”

It was clear he was talking from experience,

though in the years they’d been together Will
hadn’t noticed John being unduly affected by dark
dreams. rusting that John knew what he was talking
about, however, he shook the girl roughly. “Katie.
Katie, wake up.”

Katie gasped and her eyes open. A second later

they filled with tears and she buried her face in Will’s
chest as she sobbed.

Crying children was something Will had

experience with; Tommy was a happy child but he
was plenty clumsy, especially when he was younger.
Will had never heard of a child who had had more
scraped knees than Tommy Connors. ith Tommy in

mind, Will rocked Katie and rubbed his hands in
circles on her back and whispered soothing words in
her ear. John reached out a couple of times to touch
Katie’s hair gently, only to awkwardly remove it a
moment later. Will raised an eyebrow at him and
John shrugged uncomfortably. Don’t spend much
time around crying females.”

Will nodded and hitched Katie up just a bit

higher. Her sobbing was getting softer and her body
was going loose; he wasn’t surprised when she went
limp a moment later. Carefully, he tucked her back in
and this time John didn’t look uncomfortable when
he pushed Katie’s hair off her forehead.

“She probably needed that,” John said.
“I was kind of worried about her not crying,” Will

admitted. “That was a long time in coming.”

They watched her a bit longer, but the nightmares

didn’t seem to be returning. Tomorrow’s going to be
a long day,” John muttered as they made their way
back to their bedrolls.

“Not just tomorrow,” Will replied, flopping

back. And not just the day after that,either.”

Chapter 6

Everyone was in a foul mood the following

morning. John stuck his face in his coffee and
wouldn’t speak to anyone, Katie refused to eat
breakfast or roll up her bedding, and Will finally
lost his temper and shouted that the two of them
could pack up the camp themselves for once before
mounting Clarence and riding off alone.

He didn’t go very fast and the others caught up

quickly, but the strain of that argument weighed
them all down as they rode hard for Amarillo. empers
were not improved when they learned they’d missed
the last west-bound train for the day and when they
arrived at the nearest hotel, Will pushed John aside
and slapped a bill on the counter. “We need two
rooms with a connecting door.”

The man didn’t even blink, just pushed over the

guest ledger. “Please sign in for yourself and your
guests.” Will brushed off John’s hand and did that
as well.

As they climbed the stairs to the third floor, Will

turned to Katie. “John and I have to have a bit of a
talk, so we’re going to keep the connecting door shut
for a bit. Do not let anyone aside from us into your
room, understand?”

Katie nodded her head, her eyes glued to the

floor.

“Good. Once our talk is done, we’ll open the

connecting door. If you need us before then, bang
on the wall.”

Katie agreed to that as well, though her head

was still ducked down. Will felt a twinge of guilt; the
girl had been a brat today, but she was young and
sensitive. He and John would have to hold on a little
tighter to their tempers when she was around.

Once they reached the third floor, however, Katie

went right out of Will’s mind. He barely kept himself
together well enough to make sure she was safely
locked away in her room before fumbling the next
door open. It didn’t help that John was standing so
close behind him that he could feel the man’s heat
through his clothing.

The moment the latch on their door shut, Will

and John fell on each other like ravening wolves. ill
fought to tear off John’s damned jacket, while John
went straight for Will’s fly. John achieved his goal
first and Will lost track of what he was doing as John
gave his cock a few rough jerks. “I want you to fuck
me,” John said hotly, his breath washing over Will’s
ear. “I want you to pound me into the mattress.”

“Yes,” Will hissed back and he dragged John to

the bed.

By the time they stumbled back out of bed, it was

full dark outside and Will was sore and sated, enough
so that he didn’t have to fight to find a smile when he
opened the connecting door between the two rooms.
“Hey, Katie, are you ready for some dinner?”

No response of course; more terrifying was the

lack of any young girls immediately visible. Will’s
heart clenched as he lunged forward into the
room. Katie?”

The soft rustling of cloth dragged his attention to

the corner between the two rooms, where Katie was
mostly hidden by the open door. She was curled up
into a ball, and her eyes were hidden between her
knees.

“Katie, what happened? Are you all right?” She

nodded, slowly, and Will belatedly thought to wonder
just how thick the walls were in this place. Did you
hear something scary?”

She shrugged and kept her eyes hidden. Will

sighed and moved to sit down next to her. “It wasn’t
bad, what John and I were doing. Sometimes we
just talk things out in ... in a physical way.” esitantly
he added, “Didn’t your mommy and daddy ever
need time alone after a fight?” She didn’t make any
response. Will sighed again and carefully reached
out to put a hand on her back. e was surprised and
gratified when she immediately uncurled from her
ball and shifted over to tuck herself into Will’s side,
and he didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her
shoulders.

They sat that way for a while, neither one making

a noise. Eventually John stuck his head in the door.
“I thought we were going for dinner.”

“We are,” Will reassured him. “Katie just heard

some things that upset her.”

John’s eyes widened. Will nodded. John winced

and pulled back into their room.

“I think it’s time to eat,” Will said, gently giving

Katie one last squeeze before letting her go. “You go
get dressed in your new clothes now, okay?”

Katie nodded, but she didn’t shift away until

Will started to ease himself to his feet. This time, he

made sure the connecting door between the rooms
wasn’t completely closed, though he left only a crack
between the rooms for privacy.

Mindful of that opening, he kept his voice quiet

as he said to John, “I think we’re damaging that girl
even more.”

John scoffed. “She’s healthy, her burns are

healing, and she doesn’t look like a skeleton
anymore. We’re doing fine.”

“It’s not her physical state I’m worried about,” ill

muttered, but he let the topic go and went to get
himself dressed to go out.

Later that night, long after little girls should

have been asleep in bed, Will felt the mattress
shift underneath him. Cracking his eyes open just
a fraction, he saw Katie curling up on the very
edge of the bed. He considered leaving her there,
but she’d get cold and, besides, it wasn’t as if she
could have missed that John was lying right next to
Will. t seemed there were no more secrets left. With
a sigh, he murmured, “Get under the covers,” and
let himself drift back off to sleep before seeing if she
followed his orders.

There were no nightmares that night.

The train station in Amarillo wasn’t anywhere

near as nice as the one in New York City or even
the one in Omaha, but Katie stared around her with
her eyes wide and her mouth open and had to be
guided around obstacles after the third time she’d
fallen over someone else’s luggage. Will and John,
both considerably more relaxed than the day before,

exchanged grins.

The ride itself was long, in large part because

Katie abruptly decided to turn into a typical child,
albeit a mute one. She ran up and down the train, she
hid in the bathrooms, she pestered the porters. fter
the third time she was returned to their room after
going off for a bathroom break that ended up lasting
over an hour, Will sat her down next to the window
and ordered her to practice her letters. By that point,
he was so thoroughly frustrated he didn’t even care
that she sulked the entire time.

John moved close enough to whisper in Will’s

ear. “It’s good that she’s well enough to act badly.”

Will shot him a blistering glare. John took his

revenge by making Will do his exercises, which had
the added benefit of getting Katie out of her sulks
and keeping her entertained. Will took his revenge
by making Katie bed down on the floor, no matter
how many pleading glances John sent his way.

Bisbee was something of a shock. This was

partially because Will had never seen much of the
city aside from the livestock auction on the outskirts
of town, but also because the downtown commercial
area was packed with new buildings and bustling
streets. He’d heard that the Bisbee copper mines
were doing well, but hadn’t realized just how
well. here were even a couple of fine hotels near the
train station that tempted them to spend the night,
but the need to see what had happened in Dead
Horse, not to mention the two-day ride, motivated
them to hit the trail.

Butterscotch had taken the train ride as well as

was to be expected, which meant she was biting
anyone and anything foolish enough to get within
range of her teeth. This included hands filled with
conciliatory candy, and after the third nip even
John gave up on appeasing her. Clarence and the
packhorse steered clear as they rode out of town, no
matter how much Will tried to bring them closer.

Once they were fully out of Bisbee, John slid off

Butterscotch, gingerly tied her to a juniper tree, and
saddled up the packhorse. Behind him, Will could
feel Katie getting progressively more tense and she
felt like a block of wood by the time John led the
packhorse over. “Come on, girl, it’s time for you to
learn to ride.”

There followed a rhythmic brushing against Will’s

back, which he suspected was a tiny nose attached to
a vigorously shaking head. Will sighed and slipped
off Clarence, being careful not to kick Katie in the
head in the process. “He’s right, Katie. ou can’t ride
behind me forever.”

She glared at him, looking thoroughly betrayed.
“It’ll be fine, I promise,” Will said. He held out

his hand. “Come on down now.”

Katie crossed her arms and shook her head

emphatically, her little brow furrowing and her lips
pursing.

Oh, yes. Will remembered that expression. Not

fondly.

In the end, Will informed Katie that if she ever

wanted to eat lunch again, she was going to get on
the packhorse. After that, he left the actual lessons
to John and spent the length of the lessons placating

Clarence, who had been huffy when he’d gotten off
the stock-car, for all that he’d been better behaved
about it than certain other horses Will could name.

By the time they made it back on the trail they’d

lost most of the day, which meant it would be at least
two more nights before they’d reach the ranch. till,
the delight on Katie’s face as she became confident
enough to canter for the first time made the lost time
easier to bear.

That night, Katie was asleep the moment her

head hit the ground and Will and John took the
opportunity for some candid conversation. “What do
we do if the sheriff is right? Should we close down
the school?”

John heaved a sigh. “I’d hate to do that. If

nothing else, the water from the spring should be
safe.” He shook his head. “Still can’t believe no one
at all survived from the town. Stories like that make
me think of ...”

“What?” Will asked as John trailed off. “Makes

you think of what?”

“You remember me telling you about Tanner

Stone?”

“The man who turned you into an outlaw and

then killed everyone you cared about when you tried
to get away?”

“Stupid question,” John admitted. “Did you also

remember that he used to run a town?”

“Of course. Prosper. You were the one to free

them.” Only to have the railroad come and burn
the whole thing down a few years later. Will didn’t
bother adding that bit.

100

“Thing is, taking over a town isn’t as

straightforward as you might imagine. You can’t
just move in, announce you’re in charge, and kill
everyone who disagrees. Someone always escapes
and tells tales. Even if someone didn’t escape,
people notice when a whole town disappears.”

“People like the Texas Rangers,” Will guessed.
“And the US Marshals. So if you’re the kind of

person who doesn’t like that sort of attention –”

“– like a raping, murdering, bastard of an outlaw.”
“– then you have to come up with some reason for

the town to disappear.”

“Like a deadly illness,” Will realized. “But what

about people escaping?”

“You spread word of the disease first and post

the quarantine markers around the town.” John
shrugged. “People have been known to lie to make
folks break quarantine. Usually they’re doing it to
help someone they love, but the consequences can
be deadly. Stone took advantage of that fact.”

“How’d he keep the townsfolk from fighting

back?”

John smiled humorlessly. “Just how many

gunslingers does your town have, Will?”

Will pondered that. “I can’t think of one. But

there are a lot of men who are good with a rifle. ou
have to be out here.”

“But how many of them are willing to risk their

lives, their families’ lives, to fight back? No one liked
living under Tanner’s thumb, but it didn’t ruin most
people. He did kill all of the saloon owners when he
took over their businesses and he raised the price

101

of the liquor, but he lowered the price of the girls
and anyone working for him drank and whored for
free. If he wanted a steak, some rancher would be
expected to give up a cow, but he didn’t take the
herd. Store owners caught the worst of it, since they
had to give Tanner’s men anything they asked for,
free of charge.”

“How did they even get supplies in, if the town

was under quarantine?”

John smiled bitterly. “That’s where Tanner was

really clever. At first he had his men smuggling the
supplies in at night. After a few months, though, once
he was sure everyone had bought into the idea that
the town was gone, he took a bunch of old lumber
and general waste and had his men haul it out a few
miles east. They scattered it about and burned it all.
Then he changed the name of the town.”

Will gaped at him. “What? How?”
“It was before I got there, but from what I heard

it wasn’t too hard. Just telegraph the postmaster
general and request they add the town, with its new
name, to the postal route. Then all the quarantine
markers were dug up and the town had a new name
and, if anyone asked, was a few miles west of the old
town.”

“But that’s ridiculous! People know where towns

are located.”

“It wouldn’t work for a big town, granted, but for

a small town, especially a mining town or a supply
post for ranchers – who really knows or cares about
those towns except for the folks who live there? The
average traveler is just passing through and won’t

102

know the landmarks well enough to tell exactly
where they are, and the more experienced travelers
can usually be convinced if an entire town is telling
them they’re wrong. Those that can’t be convinced
were killed.”

“Damn.”
“What was worse was what happened to townsfolk

who went against Tanner’s bidding.  nyone who
fought back –” John swallowed hard.  If you tried
to fight back, he didn’t just kill you.  e’d kill your
sons, your parents, all your menfolk.  nd any women
in the family were put to work in his saloons and
brothels. Girls as young as Katie, pandered out until
they were nothing more than hollow shells.”

Will felt ill. “How did you ever stop him, then? f

no one would help you, how did you free the town?”

“Actually, it was Tanner Stone who really brought

down Tanner Stone. See, when you’re holding a
town hostage, you need enforcers, lots of em. Even
after you got the townsfolk under control, you need
to keep the enforcers around to keep anyone from
getting ideas. Tanner had a dozen enforcers working
for him, and at first they were happy enough drinking
the free liquor and fucking the free girls and playing
cards in the saloons with the pittance of money
Tanner paid beyond the room, board, booze and
girls. Thing is, you can only drink and whore and
play cards so long before you start getting bored and
a dozen bored, violent men is a powder keg ready
to go off at the slightest spark. So Tanner decided to
play a game. A tournament for gunslingers, with a
big cash prize and a guaranteed job for anyone who

103

made it to the top four who wasn’t already working
for him.”

Will stared at him, appalled. “A gunslinger

tournament? How many people ended up dead?”

“A lot,” John said flatly. “Most of them at my

hand.”

Will’s throat went tight. “That was when he

brought you back, wasn’t it? When he burned down
that orphanage and killed all of your wards.”

“Yeah,” John said roughly. “I think he’d thought

I’d gone soft, that this would be a good way to get rid
of me before I could ever get it into my head to come
after him.” John’s lips twisted. “He was wrong.”

104

Chapter 7

After that conversation, it wasn’t much of a

surprise that Will and John had equally sleepless
nights. They rode easy that day, both in deference to
Katie’s inexperience and the men’s exhaustion. hat
night, all three of them slept like the dead.

The next day, decisions had to be made. “I think

we should go to the ranch first,” Will offered over
coffee and frybread. “If the sheriff was wrong about
the town, Mrs. Potter can tell us what’s going on. If
he was right, we should at least bury the bodies.”

“Any bodies’ll need to be burned,” John said. And

we should take the long way around town, just in
case.”

Will nodded his agreement and they saddled up

the horses. With all three rested and their destination
nearly in sight, they made good time. oon enough,
Will found himself spotting the familiar landmarks
that meant they were close to his old home. As
they crossed the main road into town, however, his
stomach lurched. To the left of the road was a tall
stake and tied to the top of the stake was a strip
of tattered yellow cloth, fluttering in the afternoon
breeze.

“John,” Will said, his voice shaky.
“Doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” John said,

though his voice wasn’t fully steady either.

Katie looked back and forth between them in

open confusion, but Will just shook his head at her
and urged Clarence forward.

105

The ranch was only a few miles away from this

point and as they carefully brought down a couple of
fence posts so the horses could ride through, Will had
mixed feelings. Part of him felt like he was coming
home, the home that he and Molly had shared for
over ten years, the home where his son was born,
the home where he’d met John and learned to care
for him.

The other part of him recognized that this ranch

wasn’t his home any longer. The air was too dry,
the dirt was too arid, and the land between bits of
civilization was too vast. Will had been born in a big
city and now that he was back to living in a big city,
he couldn’t imagine wanting to eke a subsidence
existence out of the rocky desert again. ll of the
adventurousness that had brought him out here the
first time had long since been burnt out by tragedy
and hardship, and he had no desire to get it back.

Still, there was a different sort of pleasure to be

found in Katie’s open fascination. As she stared about
her in awe, Will remembered the first time he saw a
towering mesa or a delicate stone arch or the reddish
brown earth so unlike the grey granite undertones of
Philadelphia. Will made a silent promise to himself
that he would take her to see the Grand Canyon
before he and John went back to Boston. It wasn’t
that far away – no further than Bisbee – and it was a
sight that everyone should see at least once in their
life.

If it softened the girl’s dismay at their upcoming

parting, well, that would just be a pleasant side
benefit.

106

As they got closer to the ranch without seeing a

single soul, Will’s uneasiness grew. The cattle might
be in another part of the ranch and some of the boys
would be with the herd, but there were supposed to
be over a dozen boys at the ranch and Mrs. Potter
couldn’t have sent them all away. By this point,
he would’ve expected to see at least one or two,
hauling deadwood, checking the fence or maybe
just practicing their riding. To not have seen a single
soul this close to the cabin was ominous.

His rising sense that something was wrong only

increased once the cabin was in sight. No boys were
working the garden, the clothesline was empty, and
no smoke was coming out of the chimney. The place
looked dead.

Will exchanged a look with John, then reached

over to grab Katie’s reins. “Hold up there, Katie.”

She looked over questioningly.
“We’re not sure what we’re going to find at the

cabin, so I need you to stay behind John and me,
okay?”

Katie nodded.
“And don’t touch anything. Nothing. In fact, I

don’t want you getting off your horse. Not till John
or I say it’s safe.”

Katie looked confused and a bit wary, but she

nodded again.

Will let out a breath. “Okay. Good.” He looked

at John again. “I guess there’s no point in waiting.”

Part of him hoped that John would come up with

a reason to wait, but John just nodded sharply and
turned Butterscotch toward the cabin. Will swallowed

107

hard, glanced back to make sure Katie was following
them, and rode after John.

They were nearly there when the door opened

and Mrs. Potter stepped out. Will felt powerful surge
of relief, until he saw that Mrs. Potter was carrying
a shotgun.

John pulled Butterscotch up sharply, letting Will

ride up to the front. Will trusted that John would
keep Katie back and rode right up to the porch. Mrs.
Potter?”

For a moment Will thought that she didn’t

recognize him, but then the shotgun fell out of her
hands and clattered to the porch. “Mr. Connors,” he
breathed. Then her eyes welled up with tears and
she stepped forward. “Will.”

Will slid off of Clarence and took two steps forward

to wrap his arms around Mrs. Potter, holding her
tight as she cried against his shoulder. ehind him,
he heard two other horses riding up to the house,
then John and Katie appeared on Will’s left, both
looking painfully uncomfortable.

Fortunately, Mrs. Potter pulled herself together

quickly and she stepped back, wiping reddened
eyes and tidying her grey bun. “I’m so sorry about
that, dear. I guess the last few months just caught up
with me all at once.”

“The last few months?” Will repeated carefully.
“It’s a long story,” Mrs. Potter said. “You should

bring your friends in and we can talk about it over a
spot of lunch.”

“I’m sorry, this is Charles Merriweather and –”
John cleared his throat pointedly.

108

“Ah, sorry, Charles Merriweather the third, and

Katie. Katie, Charles, this is Mrs. Potter.”

“Charles Merriweather!” Mrs. Potter

repeated. My goodness, I’m so glad you decided to
come out to see the school. I just wish you had come
at a better time.”

“I only wish I’d been able to come out sooner,

Mrs. Potter,” John said, gallantly lifting her hand
and bowing over her fingers. Mrs. Potter’s cheeks
pinked and she looked like she was holding back a
giggle.

Will rolled his eyes and glanced over at Katie,

secretly pleased at the way her nose was wrinkled
up in disgust. “Come on,” he told her. “Let’s see
what we can find for lunch.”

They didn’t get very far into the cabin before

Mrs. Potter came bustling in, a smug-looking John
at her heels. Will left the cooking to Mrs. Potter and
a curious Katie and moved to stand next to John.
“Honestly,” he muttered. “She’s old enough to be
your mother. Maybe even your grandmother.”

“I was just being chivalrous,” John said

loftily. Though she is quite an amazing woman to
run this place all by herself.”

“With Jesse Harper’s help, of course.”
As was always the case when Will mentioned

Jesse’s name, John’s brow furrowed. He had taken
a powerful dislike to Jesse from the moment he’d
first heard the man’s name, though Will could never
figure out why. As far as he knew, the two of them
hadn’t even met.

Abandoning John to his irrational emotions,

109

Will went around the small cabin, cataloging the
changes since he’d left. The most obvious was the
wall between the main room and his bedroom; that
had been removed to allow for a larger eating area as
more boys had come. The tiny addition that had been
Tommy’s room was converted into a pantry, though
the paltry contents of that pantry were surprising.
More than anything else, John had insisted that the
boys at the school be well-fed.

Of the boys themselves, there was little sign. A few

pictures on the walls, a couple of toys in the corner, a
deck of cards on a shelf. Clearly children had clearly
been in this space, but the paper the pictures were
drawn on was already starting to yellow with age
and the toys were covered with a fine sheen of dust.

On the other hand, Will saw no evidence that

the ranch had been ravaged by disease, either. The
cabin was in good shape and there had been a new
patch on the porch railing when they’d come in. he
air was clean and fresh and the windows were open.
Most telling of all, there was no stockpiling of wood;
Mrs. Potter hadn’t even started up the stove until
they’d arrived. If typhoid really had hit this ranch,
it had clearly run its course, because there was no
evidence that the well water was being boiled before
drinking.

As Mrs. Potter pulled biscuits out of the oven,

the cabin door banged open. John had his gun
drawn before Will even finished turning around, but
lowered it immediately as Will called out, “Jesse!”

When Will had last seen Jesse Harper, the man

had been naught but skin and bones, topped with

110

a mop of shaggy, bright red hair. Four years of
Mrs. otter’s cooking had filled the man out some
and the ranching must’ve given him some muscle,
because the tall lanky man filling the doorway
looked strong enough to take down an angry steer. e
also looked delighted. “Will!”

“Heya, Jesse,” Will said, clasping the proffered

hand tightly.

“Wasn’t sure we was ever gonna see you again,

what with you going all the way to Boston. What’re
you doing out here?”

“We hadn’t heard from Mrs. Potter in a while and

were getting worried.”

“We?”
John’s face, if possible, grew even more sour. ill

coughed to cover a laugh. “Sorry about that. esse,
let me introduce you to Charles Merriweather. The
third. Charles, this is Jesse Harper.”

“Charmed,” John said stonily.
Jesse looked taken aback. “Er, nice to meet ya.”
“And this,” Will added quickly, “is Katie. We ran

into her on the way here.”

Jesse smiled down at Katie and gave her an

awkward pat on the head before clearing his
throat. So – have you been to town yet?”

Will glanced over at John. “No, we came straight

here.”

Both Jesse and Mrs. Potter suddenly lost much of

their tension.

“Why?” Will added, suspiciously.
“We have a new sheriff,” Mrs. Potter said, laying

out the biscuits, salt pork, and green beans. udging

111

from the contents of the pantry, Will suspected this
was the best meal she’d served to the table in a
while. “He’s not partial to outsiders.”

“It’s not so bad now,” Jesse added. “There’s a few

folks arriving every day for the tournament. Before,
though, chances were anyone coming through
town’d end up in the jail.” Jesse was politely waiting
while the guests served themselves, but Will couldn’t
help but see the way Jesse’s eyes lingered longingly
on the beans. The moment the others set down the
serving spoons, Jesse snatched that bowl up.

“Tournament,” John said neutrally. “What kind of

tournament?”

“Dueling,” Mrs. Potter said, her voice laced

with disapproval. “On Main Street, no less. And he
renamed the town, said no one would want to come
to a competition in a place called Dead Horse.”

“What’s the town called now?” Will asked, the

same time John asked, “What’s the sheriff’s name?”

“Liberty,” Mrs. Potter answered. “And the sheriff’s

name is Sutton. Josiah Sutton.”

John scowled. “That bastard did always have a

twisted sense of humor.”

“I’m guessing he wasn’t terribly original

either,” ill said dryly.

“You know him?” Jesse asked, confused and a bit

wary.

Will looked over at John. “We should tell

them.” ohn’s eyes widened and he shook his head
sharply. We’re going to need their help,” Will said
insistently. “And if this Sutton bastard knows you,
people are going to find out eventually.”

112

John gritted his teeth, but he clearly noticed that

everyone, even Katie, was staring at him. “Fine,” he
ground out, and Will saw his hand go to his hip. ot
a good sign, but there was nothing for it now but to
get it over with.

“First, I need to apologize,” Will said. “I lied to you

earlier. This man is not Charles Merriweather. ell,
he is, but that’s not the name he was born with.” He
cleared his throat, feeling a mite nervous now that it
came down to it. “Jesse, Mrs. Potter – I’d like you to
meet John Anderson.”

There was a silent moment, broken by Jesse: “As

in, the hero of your novels?”

“You’ve read them,” Will said, pleased despite

everything.

“Not the point, Will,” John gritted out.
“In some ways it is; I wouldn’t’ve ever thought of

writing about you if we hadn’t met.”

“How did you two meet?” Mrs. Potter asked. She

sounded suspicious, which cut Will to the quick.

“He was shot and in the running away, he ended

up on my land,” Will said. “About eight years ago
now. I brought him home and Molly helped fix him
up. I didn’t know who he was till after he left.

“A few years later, he came back. That was after

Molly died and ...” Will shrugged. “The ranch was
falling apart with just me to take care of it. John
agreed to help out in exchange for a place to hide. fter
a while, I decided I wanted to go back east and John
thought that was a great idea for him as well, since
he’s not wanted east of Texas. He’d already decided
he wanted to start a school for orphans, so he bought

113

my ranch. We stayed in touch.” Literally, most days.
“He’d help me with plots for my John Anderson
stories and I’d give him news of the ranch from Mrs.
Potter’s letters.”

Jesse and Mrs. Potter both looked rather dubious,

but Mrs. Potter’s voice was perfectly neutral when
she said, “Well then, I’m sorry there isn’t much for
you to see at your ranch, Mr. nderson. We sent all of
the boys away months ago.”

John looked grim. “Why?”
“Because Mr. Sutton came around here a couple

of times, recruiting ‘deputies’ and promising the
world. I was afraid that if we didn’t send the boys
away, they would’ve ended up dead, or worse.”

Jesse added, “And I didn’t like the way Sutton

looked at the younger boys.”

John froze. “He doesn’t have access to any little

boys, does he?”

Everyone turned to stare at him. “Why?” Jesse

asked warily.

“For the reasons you’re thinking of right

now,” ohn said tersely, his eyes shooting to Katie,
who was doing a terrible job of pretending not to
listen. Answer the question.”

“The Landon boy,” Mrs. Potter said faintly. Their

house burned down and everyone but the boy died.
Sutton offered to take him in.”

“That sonuvabitch,” Jesse breathed.
“He probably set the fire,” John said. “He always

did have an unholy fascination with fire.”

“We have to get that boy away from Sutton,” Will

said flatly. “Right now. Today.”

114

John was already shaking his head. “Even if

you do manage to rescue the boy without getting
yourselves or him killed, Sutton’s just going to find
another one and probably kill another family in the
process. You don’t need to rescue the boy, you need
to eliminate Sutton.”

Will suddenly felt cold. “You mean kill him.”
John looked Will straight in the eye. “Yeah.”
Will stared back, not sure what to say, what to

feel. He’d always held that killing was wrong and he
never would have been able to be with John without
the promise that John would never kill someone
other than in self-defense. But at the same time, he
couldn’t forget Mrs. Pendergast’s face, or the way
her blood pulsed through his fingers. If John had
killed Charming Charlie and his gang when he’d
first wanted to, that woman would still be alive.

Will shoved himself to his feet with such force

that he nearly knocked his chair over. “I need some
air.”

The others immediately broke out in protest, but

Will ignored them, his entire attention on escaping
out the front door. It didn’t do him much good,
however, as John came out right on his heels. Leave
me alone, John!”

“No,” John hissed back. “We don’t have time for

your scruples now. Every minute we delay is another
minute before that boy can be rescued.”

“I thought you said we couldn’t rescue the

boy,” ill said shakily.

“I said we couldn’t rescue him right away. We

need to distract Sutton first.”

115

“By killing him?”
“Will –”
“I’m not going to stop you,” Will said. John closed

his mouth mid-protest. “A man like that – he can’t be
let to live. And while I’d prefer a trial and a jury and
a judge, I have a suspicion that any man who tried to
legally hold Sutton to his crimes would end up just
as dead as Jacob Landon’s family.” Will took a deep
breath. “If you need the words said, then: John, I
release you from your promise.”

Inexplicably, John seemed to grow more tense at

that, rather than less. “I wish you didn’t have to do
that, Will.”

Will sighed and blinked stinging eyes. “So do I,

John. So do I.”

116

Chapter 8

They spent the rest of the day planning. More

accurately, John spent the rest of the day planning
while Mrs. Potter kept Katie occupied and Will and
Jesse paced the cabin and periodically answered
questions about the town and townsfolk. According
to Jesse, Sutton hadn’t taken over the saloons, but
he was taking protection money from them as well
as from most of the town’s suppliers. There had been
a quarantine for a few months but it had been a
haphazard one, with supply wagons coming in and
out nearly every week, though stagecoaches were
turned away. The stagecoaches never came back,
which meant there was no mail coming into the
town at all; the only way to send or receive mail was
the post office in River Bend. With ‘deputies’ atching
all of the main roads in and out of town, the only
way to River Bend was overland and back country.
Since most people in town didn’t own a horse and
most ranches were shorthanded due to Sutton’s
aggressive recruitment tactics, that effectively meant
no mail at all for the town.

Making the town even more isolated was the fact

that Sutton had taken over the telegraph office. he
lines were still intact, but no one was allowed to send
or receive telegrams without Sutton’s permission.

Most shocking of all, however, was that Sutton

had taken over Grady’s ranch. “Not that he
wants anything to do with the cattle,” Jesse said
sourly. Half of his deputies are working the ranch.

117

He just wanted the house.”

Nick Grady did have the nicest house in the

area, though it was a good three miles further from
town than Will’s – now John’s – ranch. “What about
Grady? I can’t imagine he just let Sutton take his
house.”

“No one knows what happened to him. He hasn’t

been seen since Sutton moved in.”

From the grim look on John’s face, Will had a

pretty good idea what happened to Grady and the
darkest part of his mind wondered if houses were the
only things Sutton liked to burn.

In the end, it was decided that John would ride to

River Bend to send out a telegram for reinforcements
– though he was cagey on what those reinforcements
would be – and then ride back into town on the main
road so no one would think to connect him to the
ranch. Both he and Jesse would sign up for the
tournament. “It’s lucky you got here when you did,”
Jesse commented. Tournament starts next week and
the slots are almost full. Sutton’s throwing a party
tomorrow night once the sign-ups close.”

Will couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to sign up

to stand in the middle of a street and have someone
shoot at him. “Who all’s signed up?”

“All of Sutton’s deputies, a few townsfolk. Some

want to work for Sutton, some are hoping to do what
we’re planning – thin out his forces enough to attack
him directly. A handful have come from out of town;
no idea how they heard about the tournament.”

“Wonder if any of them got the same kinda

invitation that Stone gave you,” Will commented to

118

John.

“I doubt any. Sutton’s not the kind of man force

a confrontation, which is why Stone is dead and
Sutton’s not. Out-of-towners are probably the result
of the deputies in charge of the supply runs drinking
too much and talking about things they shouldn’t.
Word gets around.” John sat back in his seat with a
sigh. “Will, you okay with going into town? I’d like
to have eyes on the place not connected with the
tournament.”

“I’ll say I came by to visit the ranch. Took the

back route, had no idea about the quarantine or the
tournament.”

“Then I think we’re ready. Will, Harper, you

should probably practice your shooting. Don’t worry
about running out of bullets, I’ll get plenty when I’m
in River Bend.”

Will considered his rifle doubtfully. “Maybe you

should get me a pistol. Not sure my rifle will be
discreet enough.”

“Maybe a short-barreled shotgun instead. The

shot scatters wider the shorter the barrel, so aim’s
not as important. You’ll have to get close, though.”

“I’m planning on being in the crowd. Want to be

close, in case something happens.”

“What about Katie?” John asked. “We’re right

next to Grady’s ranch; any of his men get bored, this
is the first place they’d come.”

“Don’t worry about the girl,” Jesse cut in. “After

that first visit, we started hiding the younger boys in
the cellar when we heard anyone coming. Kind of
awkwardly placed under the table there, but once

119

the rug’s pulled over it no one can tell there’s a door
there at all.”

Will smiled rather sadly, thinking back to simpler

days when he’d built that cellar for John to hide
in. They’d never needed to use it before they left
for Boston. “We should get some sleep. omorrow’s
going to be a long day.”

Unfortunately, once he was lying down Will was

completely unable to fall asleep. He and John were
crammed into a bunk in one of the boys’ cabins, each
of which had eight bunk beds along the walls.

They had the place to themselves, as Mrs. Potter

had kindly offered to let Katie spend the night with
her and Jesse had a cabin of his own, but when John
had tentatively suggested intimate activities, Will
had shaken his head. The very idea of them touching
that way when Sutton might at that very moment
be touching Jacob Landon the same way ... he very
thought of it made Will feel physically ill.

“I wish we could just go in there and shoot that

bastard,” Will said into the pitch blackness of the
cabin. He couldn’t see his hand if he held it up in
front of his face, but he drew some comfort from the
feel of John’s breath washing across the nape of his
neck. “I’m not sure I could kill him outright, but I
could make sure he never hurt Jacob Landon again.”

He felt John’s arm tighten comfortingly against

his waist. “We can’t take the risk. There’s only three
of us. Sutton could have half a dozen or more at the
ranch.”

“I know,” Will said bitterly.

120

“Will ...” John took a deep breath. “It might not

be as bad as you’re imagining.” Will made a sound of
protest, but was cut off by John hastily adding, Not
that it’s not horrible and unnatural. Of course it is
and Sutton will die for it. But when he gets his hands
on a boy, he courts him. Gives him gifts of toys and
candy, takes him riding, plies him with alcohol. It’s
possible he hasn’t started touching the Landon boy
yet; it sometimes takes weeks or even months before
he gets to that point.”

“I wouldn’t have expected that from a man who

would kill a whole family to get to a boy.”

“It’s a rare monster that has no tenderness in

him.” John’s free arm came up to pillow Will’s head.

Will swallowed hard, relaxing a bit despite

himself. John’s words may be a lie, but it was a lie
Will desperately needed to believe. “I can’t believe
you didn’t kill him before.”

John sighed. “If I’d killed everyone in that

gang who deserved it, there wouldn’t’ve been
a gang left.  utton wasn’t even the worst of the
bunch.  veryone there did things to be ashamed of,
including me.” Will felt John’s forehead rest against
the nape of his neck and when John spoke again,
his voice was muffled. “I still have days where I
struggle to believe that you can really want me.  fter
everything I’ve done, it should be impossible to have
so much happiness in my life.”

Will’s eyes burned. “John –”
“We’ll get Sutton,” John said fiercely. “I promise

you that. We’ll string him up by his scrawny neck
and free this town and that little boy and then we’re

121

going to go home and never come back to this
godforsaken country again.”

Will reached down to where John’s hand was

resting on his stomach and he gripped it as tight as
he could. “I don’t regret coming,” he said quietly. If
we hadn’t come, Katie would be dead, Jacob Landon
would be as good as, and Mrs. Potter and Jesse and
everyone else in town would be living in fear for the
rest of their lives. I just wish –” He shook his head
slightly, feeling John’s hair brush against his own. “I
wish the killing wasn’t necessary.”

“Maybe we don’t have to kill him,” John

offered, though Will could hear misgivings in his
voice. Maybe we can just capture him and call in
the Marshals.”

Will was already shaking his head. “What

Sutton’s doing – what Charming Charlie’s gang
was doing – those weren’t subtle crimes, John. If
law enforcement hadn’t taken care of them before
we arrived, there must be a reason for it. Corrupt
officials, blackmail, extortion – something that keeps
the criminals safe from prosecution. And every day
that they aren’t in prison or dead is another day
an innocent might die.” He slumped back, letting
John take more of his weight. “I do understand the
necessity, John. I just wish things were different.”

Soft lips pressed against the nape of Will’s

neck. So do I, Will. So do I.”

122

Chapter 9

John left a few minutes after dawn. Katie joined

Will in forlornly watching him ride off into the
burgeoning morning light and neither of them had
much appetite for breakfast. Will noticed Mrs. otter
and Jesse exchanging laden glances and tried to
do a better job of faking interest in the day, but he
was relieved when the meal was over and he could
retreat back to his cabin.

He’d barely had a chance to stretch out on the

bunk before the door opened again and Katie slipped
in. “Hey,” he said gently. “Everything okay?”

Katie scampered across the short distance

between the door and the bunk and burrowed into
Will’s side. “Hey now,” he said, wrapping an arm
around her.

“Don’t go.”
Will froze, wondering if he’d imagined that tiny

whisper. “Katie?”

She held on tighter.
Will sighed and held her close, thinking to

himself that when the time came, it was going to be
really hard to leave her behind.

After Will and Katie had indulged in a good long

wallow, they went outside and followed the sounds
of gunshots to the barn, where Jesse was practicing
a fast draw. To Will’s untrained eye, Jesse looked
mighty fast, but the amount of sighing going on over
that pistol seemed to indicate that Jesse thought

123

otherwise.

“Not going well?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. Not much call for

gunslinging in Dead Horse. Sorry, Liberty.” Jesse
whipped the pistol out of his holster and fired. One
of the cans on the rail popped up in the air. Jesse
swore.

“I thought that was a pretty good shot,” Will

observed.

“Wasn’t the one I was aiming for.” He started

reloading his gun. While his head was down, he
added, “Is it true, what you write? Is Mr. Anderson
really as amazing as he is in your books?”

Will snorted. “No one’s amazing as John

Anderson in my books; the man has a gift for tall
tales.” He cleared his throat. “I’m happy to hear you
read them.”

“Of course! Everyone has. We’re all so proud

that such a big author came from right here in Dead
Horse. Besides, your books aren’t like other dime
novels. Most of those, it’s clear the author’s never
been outside a big city.”

“Thanks,” Will said, feeling himself flush. “It’s

real kind of you to say that.”

Jesse grinned. “Actually, I was wondering if you’d

sign the ranch’s copy of your books. Think the boys
would get a real kick out of that, once it’s safe for
them to come back.”

The reminder of their current situation was

sobering. Will gathered his rifle and ammo from
Katie, who looked reluctant to let them go, and
loaded the gun. “Guess I should get some practice

124

in while I have the chance.”

They spent the rest of the morning using up the

bulk of their ammo until Will called a halt to reserve
what they had left. “Just in case someone comes,” e
explained when Jesse wanted to keep going. Or if
there’s trouble when we go into town.”

The plan was to go into town right after lunch,

so Jesse would have plenty of time to sign up and
Will would be seen about town well before John
arrived. here was a slight hitch when Katie latched
onto Will’s waist and refused to be removed. “Katie,
honey, I’m not going away forever. I’ll be back
tonight, with Jesse.”

Katie declined to be comforted.
In the end, they had to physically pull her away

and the moment she was separated from Will, she
started screaming. Will shot Mrs. Potter a sympathetic
look, but forced himself to turn away. hey could hear
her screams all the way into the barn, which made
the horses skittish and did nothing to improve Will’s
temper.

He’d recovered himself by the time they were

close to town, enough so to ask, “Is Sutton going to
be at the party?”

“Probably. If he is, he’ll have his bodyguards with

him.”

Will stared. “The sheriff has bodyguards?”
“Yep. Hired ‘em after a couple of townsfolk tried

to kill him. Decided his deputies weren’t good
enough and brought in the Pinkertons.”

“Damn. How many Pinkertons are we talking?”
“Four during the day. Not sure how many at

125

night.”

“Are they signed up for the tournament?”
“Don’t know,” Jesse said. “But I doubt it.”
Will was still mulling over that bit of information

when they rode over that last hill before town. rom a
distance, the place looked nearly the same as when
he left. Maybe a few more tents on the outskirts,
where the new businesses either thrived and turned
into more permanent structures, or failed and
disappeared without a trace. Most of the tents looked
to be in bad shape; Will imagined Sutton’s presence
wasn’t a boon for the entrepreneurial spirit.

“Where’s the sign-ups and the party?”
“Herrod’s Saloon. They gave Sutton free use

of the whores in exchange for not having to pay
protection money.” Off Will’s questioning look, he
added, “They ordered a cow last week and the cook
and I got to talking.”

“An entire cow just for that saloon?” Will asked

incredulously.

“His deputies eat a lot of steak when they don’t

have to pay for it. Herrod passed some of the
extra around town; they haven’t had fresh meat in
months.”

Will shook his head. “Seems like a piss-poor way

to run things. If he kept everyone fed then they’d
probably be grateful to have him take over.”

“Feeding people’s expensive. I get the impression

Sutton’d rather spend that kind of money on himself.”

For the first time in Will’s experience with Dead

Horse, the stables were all full. Since he and Jesse

126

didn’t plan to spend the night, they settled for
finding a spot on the already crowded hitching rail
in front of Herrod’s. Will couldn’t help but wonder
what John was going to do – Butterscotch would
likely chew through her reins if anyone attempted to
hitch her to a rail all night.

Herrod’s itself looked a lot better than the one

time Will had seen it before. Then, he’d been looking
for a woman to take his mind off of his inconvenient
urges in John’s direction. At that time, Herrod’s had
had a reputation for people of more unconventional
tastes, with some exotic liquors, flexible whores,
and the only roulette wheel in town. Dead Horse
not being a terribly exotic or unconventional town,
Herrod’s had been quiet and a bit run down when
Will visited. These days, however, it looked like new,
with fresh paint on the walls, brand-new felt on the
roulette table, several tables for faro and monte,
and even a table in the corner for the increasingly
popular game of poker. ore astonishing were the
whores: last time Will had visited, the whores had
been half-dressed and lacking in personal hygiene,
but the women currently dotting the main floor were
all spotlessly clean and wearing elegant dresses.
Will wondered if they really were servicing the men
for free, or if Sutton was providing funds. It seemed
impossible that they weren’t getting money from
somewhere.

“There’s the sign-ups,” Jesse said, pointing to a

blackboard on the wall. “Looks like John has already
gotten here.”

Will eyed the board. “His name’s on there four

127

times.”

Jesse opened his mouth, then closed it

again. Huh. Maybe they were just really excited to
have someone so famous?”

“Ex-cuse me.”
Will and Jesse spun around, then looked down

to see the smallest man Will had ever clapped eyes
on. He barely came up to Will’s chest, though the
ten gallon hat he was wearing made up most of the
difference. “You’re blocking my way,” the little man
said pompously. Will stepped aside and the man
strutted into the saloon. A moment later, he went for
the blackboard.

“I know what that is,” Jesse hissed excitedly in

Will’s ear. “That’s a dwarf. I saw one in a freak show
once!”

“Maybe you could keep that to yourself,” Will

suggested dryly, watching in interest as the little
man turned away from the blackboard with his
hands on his hips and an annoyed look on his face.

“My name is John Anderson,” he announced. The

real John Anderson. I’m here for the tournament.”

One of the men at the poker table crowed with

laugher. “Looks like we got another one, boys!” He
nudged the man next to him, a scruffy blond with a
short beard. “You owe me five bucks.”

The blond poked through his pile of chips with

a scowl on his face. “How many goddamn John
Andersons can there be?”

“At least six, apparently,” Will said under his

breath. He elbowed Jesse in the side. “Weren’t you
going to sign up?”

128

“Right,” Jesse said. He looked nervous.
“You don’t have to do this,” Will murmured. There’s

lots of people signed up already.”

“But most of them are Sutton’s men,” Jesse

pointed out. “Or want to be. They don’t do us any
good.”

“We still have John. The real John. Hopefully

he’ll be all we need.”

Jesse turned with a frown. “Why are you trying to

talk me out of signing up?”

“Because I don’t want you to do this,” Will said

helplessly. “People are going to be dying out there,
Jesse. I don’t want you to be one of them.”

Jesse was silent for a moment and Will privately

hoped he’d changed his mind. Finally he said,
“People are already dying,” and Will’s heart sank.

He was debating whether to take one of the few

available tables or to belly up at the bar when Jesse
returned. “Come on,” he said roughly. “I need a
drink.”

Will heartily agreed.
During the next couple of hours, three more men

signed up, nearly filling the board. Will was having
a tough time not staring at the door; part of him was
wondering if anything had happened to John, while
the rest was secretly hoping that John was delayed
just long enough to miss the sign-up deadline. If the
thought of Jesse participating in this tournament
scared him, the idea of losing John to the tournament
was positively terrifying.

Still, they had a plan and Will knew just how

determined John could be, and he wasn’t really

129

surprised when the saloon doors slammed open a
few minutes before five and John strode in. veryone
in the saloon turned to stare at the new arrival and
John stared back for a few moments before turning
and stalking to the chalkboard. No one crowed this
time as the sixth ‘John Anderson’ as added to the
list.

Without so much as a glance at Will and Jesse,

John slid into an empty barstool and ordered a
whisky. When he tried to pay, the barkeep held up
his hand. “All tournament players drink for free, Mr.
Anderson.”

“Take it as a tip, then,” John said, leaving the coin

on the bar. The barkeep snatched it away quickly,
tucking it into his pocket as he hurried down to the
other end of the bar.

All around the room, Will could hear whispers

starting up as John sipped his drink and a quick
glance around revealed that not only was it okay for
him to look at John, it would look strange if he didn’t.
Every eye in the bar was turned in John’s direction,
some discreetly and some directly. Even the piano
player was distracted, judging by the way he missed
several notes in a row.

If John noticed he was the center of attention, he

made no sign of it. He just sipped at his whisky till
it was gone, then turned on his stool to face the rest
of the saloon.

Suddenly, everyone in the room was utterly

fascinated with whatever was in his hands.

Will took a sip of his own drink to hide a smile. e’d

known that John had a reputation, of course; much

130

of his book sales were driven by John’s name. till,
he hadn’t realized just how powerful that reputation
was.

Over the next hour or so, Will and Jesse stayed

at the bar, enjoying the whisky and rebutting
and encouraging the advances of the whores,
respectively. When one of them suggested going
upstairs, however, Jesse declined. “Waiting for the
sheriff to arrive,” he told her. “Don’t want to miss the
start of the party.”

From the woman’s expression, it was clear she

didn’t think he’d be gone long enough to worry
about missing anything, but she stayed by his side
as the night rolled on. Will figured given a choice
between flirting for free or fucking for free, she’d
take the former.

John stayed at the bar just long enough to finish

one more drink before he went out to the gambling
tables. He hovered over the faro tables for a minute or
two, but apparently the stakes weren’t high enough
for him and he ended up at the roulette wheel.
Everyone else at that table suddenly discovered
somewhere else they needed to be, leaving John to
enjoy the table alone, though after a few minutes the
whores started to include him in their rounds. John
smiled at them and looked them in the eye when he
spoke to them, but he also sent them away quickly,
his attention immediately turning back to the wheel.

As tempting as it was, Will did not join John at

the roulette table. In fact, he tried very hard not to
let his eyes linger too long on that table at any given
moment, though he did notice that the pile of chips

131

in front of John was steadily increasing. ince Will
would have been willing to wager good money that
this saloon didn’t have a single non-rigged game,
he wondered if fixing in favor of the gambler was
another service the saloon provided to Sutton’s men.
It didn’t seem possible in the long run; maybe it was
a way to raise men’s confidence while their money
supply was tight, so that they’d bet bigger when they
had more money to lose.

Will was still mulling over this possibility when the

saloon door opened again, this time to reveal a pair
of men wearing sturdy, durable looking suits. hey
were carrying shotguns and each man had a badge
pinned to his lapel. The badges were entirely the
wrong shape for sheriff or deputy badges.

The entire room went quiet, though unlike the

silence that had heralded John’s arrival, this silence
was anticipatory. Will understood why a moment
later, when the two gunmen shifted to hold the doors
open as a third man came in, this one wearing a fine
suit and a shiny sheriff’s star. He was a tall man,
with black hair and blue eyes, and there was a boy,
no more than seven, at his side. If Will didn’t know
better, he’d think the hand the man had on the boy’s
shoulder was paternal.

So this was Josiah Sutton. Not quite what Will had

expected. He looked nothing at all like a monster.
Then again, Charming Charlie hadn’t looked much
like a monster, either.

Sutton’s eyes were scanning the crowd as Will

contemplated his villainy and almost immediately
he zeroed in on John. “It seems we have a celebrity

132

in our midst. I was wondering just how many John
Andersons we’d have to collect before the real thing
arrived.”

John very deliberately placed another bet on the

table before turning to face Sutton. “Hello, Josiah.”

Sutton sauntered into the saloon, his hand still

attached to Jacob’s shoulder. Will felt his pulse rise
as he saw the resigned expression on Jacob’s face as
he was manhandled.

A hand wrapped around his wrist and squeezed

hard. “Not our time yet,” Jesse murmured.

Will’s hands curled into fists, but he nodded his

head slightly and eased back on his stool till the
small of his back was pressed up against the bar.

Sutton ended up nearly nose-to-nose with John. e

was a couple of inches taller, but John stared back
calmly, completely unruffled. After a moment, Sutton
suddenly turned away to face the room at large. “I’m
here to announce that the sign-ups are officially
closed. Contestants, you are welcome to enjoy
anything this town has to offer, free of charge! he
tournament will begin on Monday at high noon,
with times for each duel posted on this board. nyone
who shows up late will be disqualified.”

“And shot!” called one of the men from the poker

table. The rest of the men at the table laughed
uproariously.

“And shot,” Sutton said agreeably. “Barkeep,

please pour a round of your best whisky for my
friends here.”

“And keep ‘em coming!” Another suggestion from

the poker table.

133

Sutton ignored this comment as he was looking

over the crowd again. This time his eyes landed
on Will. “Relax,” Jesse said out of the corner of his
mouth. “You look like you want to kill him with your
bare hands.”

“That’s because I do,” Will muttered, though he

deliberately loosened his fists. His fingers ached as
they stretched back out to lay flat on his thighs.

Apparently he was too late, however, as Sutton

made his way to the bar next to him. “Tequila,” he
ordered from the barkeep before turning to Will.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you around these parts
before. Did you come for the tournament?”

Will swallowed hard and tried his best to keep his

voice level as he answered: “Just in town visiting my
old ranch. Didn’t even know there was a tournament
going on.”

“And which ranch would that be?”
“The Charles Merriweather Ranch for Boys.”
“Ah, Mrs. Potter’s place.” Sutton’s eyes slid over

to Jesse, who was looking very focused on his drink.
“And you’re the cowboy. Harper, isn’t it?”

Jesse put down his glass and managed a passable

smile as he shook Sutton’s outstretched hand. “Jesse
Harper, sir. I brought Will here to see the town while
I signed up for the tournament.”

“Very kind of you, especially since I recently

heard that all of your boys ran away. I’m surprised
you aren’t out looking for them.”

“Actually, it was good for me that they left,” Jesse

said. “Mrs. Potter wasn’t going to let me sign up for
the tournament while they were there.”

134

Sutton shook his head. “It must be terrible for

you, having to follow the directions of a decrepit old
woman.”

Will tried to imagine anyone who had actually

met Mrs. Potter calling her decrepit. He couldn’t
quite fathom how it would be possible.

“It’s good that you signed up for the

tournament,” utton added. “If you rank high enough,
I’ll bring you on as one of my deputies. I think you’ll
find that the position has some very nice benefits.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sutton. Er, Sheriff Sutton. I’ll do

my best.”

“Or die trying, I imagine,” Sutton said with a

smile that made bile rise up in the back of Will’s
throat. Jesse didn’t look like he noticed, though, and
he shook the man’s hand again before going back to
his drink.

“I’m impressed,” Will murmured.
“Lived hand to mouth most of my life, Will. You

learn to do what you gotta do.”

They stayed for another hour or two, drinking just

enough not to stand out while the rest of the saloon
degenerated into a mass of sloppy drunkenness. At
some point, guns got drawn and with a nod, Sutton
had his Pinkertons throw the offending parties out.
Gunshots could be heard on the street soon after and
Will wondered if the tournament might have its first
casualty before it even started.

Finally, he and Jesse decided they’d stayed long

enough to be polite and to establish that Will was
in town. As they rode back to the ranch, it suddenly
occurred to Will that he had never told Sutton his

136

Chapter 10

Back at the ranch, they found Mrs. Potter putting

together a simple supper of biscuits and pinto beans.
From the weary look on Jesse’s face, biscuits and
pinto beans had been served a lot more often on this
table than he’d like and Will made a mental note to
buy some more food supplies next time he was in
town. He and John were funding this ranch, after
all, even if there weren’t currently any boys on site.

“Where’s Katie?” Will asked as he tucked into his

own portion with enthusiasm.

“Cried herself out, poor thing,” Mrs. Potter said. I

suspect she’s going to be quite angry with you come
morning.”

“She’s going to be even angrier when I go into

town again,” Will said with a sigh. “Best she gets
used to it, though, before John and I head back to
Boston.”

Mrs. Potter and Jesse both put down their

forks. You aren’t intending to take her with you?”
Mrs. otter asked.

“How could I? She’s not related to me or John. t

wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Perhaps not,” Mrs. Potter said sternly. “But

sometimes what’s appropriate and what’s right isn’t
the same thing. That girl loves you, Will. You and
Mr. Anderson both. To abandon her here to strangers
would be cruel.”

“But I can’t take her with me,” Will protested. What

would people say?”

137

“Since when do you care what people say?”

Jesse asked. “You never cared when you first came
out and folks talked about how an East Coast city
boy wouldn’t be able to make a go of the ranch. You
never cared when people laughed at you for letting
Molly handle your money matters –”

“It wasn’t that I couldn’t do it myself, but Molly

enjoyed that sort of thing,” Will muttered.

“– you certainly didn’t care when Grady spread

all them rumors about you having carnal relations
with your cattle.”

“What?”
“We never told you about that,” Mrs. Potter said

kindly. “No one ever really thought it was true.”

“So why are you so bothered what people say

about you taking in this girl?”

“Because they’ll take her away,” Will

snapped. And I won’t be able to stop them, because
I’m not her kin. At least here I know you’ll take good
care of her. Can’t say the same of a lot of orphanages.”

There was a moment of silence.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Jesse admitted.
Mrs. Potter looked exasperated. “Then call

her your niece. Or, better yet, call her Charles
Merriweather’s niece. Who’s going to question the
relations of a famous philanthropist?”

Put that way, Will couldn’t think of a single flaw

in the plan. Hell, the only question was, why didn’t
he think of it first? “Mrs. Potter, you are a gem.”

“Thank you,” she said regally. “Now I’m going

to wake Katie up; she really shouldn’t go the entire
night without a bite of supper.”

138

As Mrs. Potter went off to her cabin to wake

the girl, Will poked at his food. It occurred to him
that Katie wasn’t likely to be happy with him at
the moment and thus wouldn’t be very amenable
to discussions of living with him and John. And no
matter what Mrs. Potter said, Will wasn’t taking a
girl across the country to live with him and John if
she wasn’t willing.

Katie came into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes

with little fists and staring around blearily. The
moment her eyes caught Will, however, she lit up
and sprinted across the room to climb up on Will’s
lap. “Whoa,” he said, laughing.

By the door, Mrs. Potter was smiling and looking

unbearably smug. Will did his best to ignore her and
wrapped Katie up in a hug.

Now, he just had to convince John.

The next day, Will and Jesse snuck away from

the ranch while Mrs. Potter kept Katie busy by
reading to her from the small pile of meticulously
cared for picture books that she’d read to her own
children decades before. Will felt a little guilty about
the subterfuge, but remembering the previous day’s
screaming, he thought it for the best.

Even though Jesse and Will didn’t arrive at the

town till well after noon, they found most of Dead
Horse still slumbering. The shops and business were
all open, but empty, and the hitching rails were all
devoid of horses.

As Will and Jesse watched, Butterscotch came

galloping down Main Street, her chewed-off reins

139

streaming behind her. She snorted when she drew
up near Clarence, but she didn’t stop. “That’s a
beautiful horse,” Jesse said admiringly. “Don’t see
many palominos around here.”

Will sighed and shook his head.
They stopped at the general store first to place

an order. Sarah was behind the counter, looking just
like Mrs. Potter but with less grey. “Mr. onnors, I
didn’t know you were in town!” Her smile slipped.
“Mother hasn’t been in town for months. I didn’t
even know you were coming.”

“Well, it was something of a surprise,” Will said. I

had trouble getting a telegram through.”

“Yes, well. The sheriff has some ... interesting

ideas about telegrams.”

“So I’ve heard.” Will handed over a list. “Could

you get the first half of this ready for me for this
afternoon? The rest is for tomorrow.”

“Mr. Connors!” Sarah said, sounding scandalized.

“Tomorrow is Sunday!”

“I know,” Will said, though the truth was that

Sundays didn’t mean as much to him as they had
when Molly was still alive. She’d always been
the one who pushed them to ride into town every
Sunday for church. “But Jesse and I only have four
saddlebags between us and the ranch is down to
bare shelves.”

“What about the ranch’s wagon?” Sarah asked.
Will glanced over at Jesse. “My understanding

is that the wagon horse was ... drafted, in a way. By
the sheriff.”

“Took the wagon, too,” Jesse said bluntly.

140

“Oh,” Sarah said. She looked conflicted for a

moment. “What if I made up the order tonight and
left it at the back door? Mother has the spare key.”

“Sounds perfect. Thanks, Sarah.” He made it

halfway to the door before his better nature made
him turn around. “Sarah? Do you happen to have
any butterscotches?”

“Of course. How many would you like?”
“Give me a twist.” He considered how far and fast

Butterscotch could run. “Make it two.”

The next couple of hours were infuriating. On

the one hand, Butterscotch clearly wasn’t interested
in achieving her freedom, because they found her
nibbling on some sagebrush in the outskirts of
the town. On the other hand, she clearly wasn’t
interested in being brought back to John, because
she bounced away any time they got close and a
couple of times ran literal circles around them. “I
hate this horse,” Jesse said as his latest lunge for the
remains of Butterscotch’s reins nearly unseated him.

“Everyone hates this horse except for John, and

some days I’m not even sure about him.” Will rubbed
his hand where Butterscotch managed to nip him
when he was reaching for her reins. “Okay, time to
try the candy.”

When all was said and done, Will was convinced

that they hadn’t so much caught Butterscotch as
she’d gotten bored with the game and was ready for
her oats. It still took nearly an entire twist of candy
just to get unbitten hands on the reins and Will
handed the other twist to Jesse. “Just keep feeding
her these till you get into town. If anyone asks, you

141

found this horse wandering around town and don’t
know who it belongs to. It shouldn’t take John long
to find out she’s missing, so he’s probably already
looking for her.”

Jesse took the reins with as much enthusiasm

as he’d give the fiery end of a burning stick. “Don’t
you want to bring her into town? She already knows
you.”

Will was already shaking his head. “We don’t

want Sutton to think there’s any connection at all
between John and me. If he thinks we’re friends,
even new friends, he’ll be more careful what he says
in my hearing.”

“He’s pretty careful all the time,” Jesse said

doubtfully. “And he doesn’t usually spend that much
time in town.”

“He will for the tournament.” Will spoke with

more confidence than he actually felt, but it was
a reasonable assumption. One of the top prizes of
the tournament was a job with Sutton and only a
foolish man would hire someone without seeing his
performance. “Go on now. Return John’s horse and
maybe spend some time drinking with him. No one’s
going to question two people in the tournament
talking, and it’ll be useful later, if we ever need to
have a reason to bring him back to the ranch.”

“Yes, Will,” Jesse said with a sigh. “What about

you?”

Will ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “I think

it’s about time I got a haircut. And maybe a shave.
It’s been a long time since I had a chance for either.”

They rode together until just before the town

142

came into sight. Since Jesse had the harder job, Will
let him ride in first, dismounting from Clarence in
the interim and sitting down on a convenient rock to
spend some time breathing in the desert air. t was a
bit of a shock to his lungs as he’d gotten used to the
salt-laden air of Boston, but it was a good shock, the
kind of shock that filled him with nostalgia for years
long past.

He let a good hour or so go by before heading into

town and was grateful to find that, though the streets
were filling up again with people, there wasn’t much
of a line at the barber’s. Then again, he had noticed
a distinct lack of personal hygiene was a common
thread for most of Sutton’s deputies.

Hair cut and cheeks clean shaven, Will wandered

in the direction of Herrod’s to start the next stage
of their plan. Now that John and Jesse had signed
up for the tournament, it was up to Will to get
information on the other gunslingers, especially the
kind of information that wouldn’t be said in John or
Jesse’s hearing.

To that end, he bought a bottle of whisky and took

it and a shot glass to a corner table, half hidden in
the shadows, where he could watch the entire room
and hear much of the conversation happening at the
bar without being seen. nfortunately, he couldn’t
think of a way to take notes on what he saw without
it becoming abundantly clear what he was doing, so
instead he made up nicknames for each gunman,
and attached everything he learned about them to
that name, like a coat on a hanger.

The five men sitting at the poker table, for

143

example, were the same five as had been sitting
there the day before, and in Will’s mind they became
a unit, the Poker Players, at least until such time as
they engaged in more individual behavior. ll five
worked for Sutton and none of them seemed nervous
about the upcoming tournament, which probably
meant they’d all been in duels before.

Sitting at the bar were a few more of Sutton’s

men. Will couldn’t see all of them from where he was
sitting, but two at the end were clearly related and
both looked a little nervous. First-timers, then, and
in part because of their matching facial hair, they
became the Bearded Brothers.

The doors opened and the little man who’d signed

up as John Anderson strutted inside. aturally, he
had to be called Little John, though every time
Will thought the name he had to hide a smile as he
thought of the Robin Hood tales that Molly used to
tell Tommy when he was a little boy. t was hard to
tell how much of Little John’s confidence was real
and how much was bluster, but Will reasoned that
he’d be a significant challenge if only because there
was less of him to aim at in a duel.

By the roulette table was another man who, after

listening in on the surrounding conversations, Will
was able to identify as yet another John Anderson. his
one looked considerably younger than both the real
John and Little John, and his light brown hair and
beard were both neatly trimmed. His clothes were
clean but visibly worn, and he was gambling with
pennies rather than the dollars the real John had
been using. A poor boy, then, seeking his fortune.

144

Probably not someone to be worried about, unless
he proved to have prodigious natural talent. e was
dubbed Poor John.

More men filtered in, including two more fake

Johns. The first was a dumpy man, who was sweating
and red faced, even after he came inside from the
heat. Will, who was getting a little bored with his
names, opted to call him Humpty Dumpty. nless
Humpty’s arms moved faster than the rest of his
body by a significant amount, he didn’t need to be
worried about either.

The second John was the first to give Will real

pause. The man was tall, over six feet tall if Will had
to guess, and he was built like a grizzly bear. is shirt
strained to cover his massive shoulders and his boots
were big enough that Will could have fit both of his
feet into just one of them. Between the size and the
immense amount of grey hair that covered the man’s
head and face, Will was tempted to call the man
Grizzly Bear John, but settled for Big John instead.
Size probably didn’t help as much in gunfights as it
did in hand-to-hand fights, but Will looked at those
colossal muscles and vast chest and thought that
a bullet might have a tough time penetrating very
far into this man’s frame. He made a mental note
to keep an eye out for Big John, though that would
hardly require much effort.

So the evening went on. Nearly all of the thirty

or so gunslingers made their way into the saloon at
one point in time or another. John and Jesse came
in together and the two of them sat down at the faro
table. Will was mildly curious as to what they’d been

145

doing all day, but was distracted by the last John
Anderson wandering through the door. The man
was of average height, average weight, had brown
hair of average length, and his dusty brown clothes
looked to be an average suit. Will’s eyes narrowed
suspiciously; it seemed impossible for someone
to be so bland and forgettable without some effort
involved. Though he had no reason for it, Will
dubbed the man Sneaky John and decided to pay
especially close attention to him.

By the time Sutton made an appearance in the

late evening, Will was ready to go home the moment
John and Jesse finished gambling. rankly, between
his impending headache and his exhaustion, he
wasn’t sure he was going to wait for Jesse; the man
had lived in Dead Horse his entire life and had lived
at the ranch for the last four years. He wouldn’t need
an escort.

Unfortunately, Sutton’s arrival derailed Will’s

imminent departure. As before, Sutton had four
Pinkerton bodyguards, two coming in before him
and two bringing up the rear. He also had Jacob
with him and Will threw back three shots in a row to
keep himself calm enough to stay hidden. Since the
only empty table at the saloon was just one over from
Will’s, he tilted his hat forward to make it harder to
see his face, then propped his good leg up on the
chair opposite from him and slid down in his seat.
The end result was a much diminished ability to
see the room as a whole, but a direct line of sight to
the table that Sutton would have to take. opefully,
anyone looking at him would think he was sleeping.

146

Sure enough, Sutton and Jacob were soon

ensconced at that table, with three Pinkertons
arranged behind him and one of the Pinkertons –
a big, burly man with clean-shaven cheeks and a
scar bisecting one eyebrow – settled in at Sutton’s
side. fter one suspicious glance Will’s way, all six
appeared to dismiss him because they then turned
to face the room at large. He let out a quiet sigh of
relief as he listened in on their conversation.

It soon became apparent that Sutton was

undertaking the same task as Will, as he and the
Pinkerton at his side quietly discussed the various
gunmen in the room. Will was curious as to why
Sutton was so interested; unlike Tanner Stone, he
didn’t seem to be participating in the tournament
himself. Then again, maybe he was betting on the
outcome.

At any rate, both Sutton and his lackey were

considerably more informed than Will was, which
was how Will learned that Humpty Dumpty was
really a famous – though he couldn’t be that famous,
since Will had never heard of him – East Coast
gunslinger called Henry Watson who was traveling
incognito and that Little John had been challenging
men to fights all along the Mexican border. He’d
won every single one, though Sutton and the
Pinkerton couldn’t seem to agree on whether that
was due to skill, luck, or men who hesitated to shoot
a person the size of a child, even if that person was
fully grown and shooting back. There was also some
discussion of Sneaky John; Will was oddly gratified
to hear that they found his relentlessly average

147

appearance suspicious and there was some debate
as to whether or not the man could be a federal
marshal in disguise.

There was other discussion as well; apparently

the two Mexicans in the opposite corner were
signed up for the tournament and were brothers,
though they looked nothing alike. The gentleman
with the all-white suit, who Will had dubbed The
Man in White, was a well-respected gunslinger from
Kentucky. The kid wearing the too tight clothes and
who was currently climbing the stairs with a whore
was known as The Kid and was rapidly gaining a
reputation for fast and steady hands.

The real John got his share of the conversation

as well and, since Jesse was sitting next to him, he
got considerably more attention than he might have
otherwise. Sutton actually raised his hand in the
air and crooked a finger at the poker table. One of
the Players – the loud one, who had been making
jokes about the number of John Andersons in the
tournament at a volume that every John Anderson
in the saloon had been able to hear – pushed back
from the table and ambled over. “Yes, sir, Mr.

Sutton?”
“It’s Sheriff Sutton, Sheriff – oh, never mind. hat

do you know about that man with the red hair? Why’s
he sitting next to John?”

“He helped him catch his horse. Damn thing had

gotten loose and was racing up and down the main
drag.”

“John did always latch on to the most irritating

animal possible. Last time I saw him, his damn beast

148

tried to bite off my ear!”

Will grinned and made a promise to himself to

feed Old Faithful a sugar cube next time he saw her.

“Jesse Harper’s not a gunman, though,” the

poker player continued. “Don’t know that he’s ever
used a pistol, except to shoot rats.”

“Good to hear,” Sutton said thoughtfully and Will

felt a sudden chill in his spine. For the first time he
wondered if Sutton was gathering information so
he would know how to arrange the duels so that his
men had the best advantage.

Sutton stayed long into the night, long enough

that Jacob had nodded off next to him and Will was
seriously considering doing the same. Finally, once
nearly every man in the room had wandered off with
a whore or in the direction of the restaurant – pen till
midnight for the duration of the tournament, Will’d
heard – Sutton gathered up Jacob in his arms and
walked out the door with his contingent of Pinkertons
around him.

Will watched him with gritted teeth and reminded

himself that the tournament would be over by Friday.
Jacob just had to survive one more week and then
he’d be free of Sutton’s loathsome touch.

149

Chapter 11

Will slept in very late on Sunday; by the time the

time he stumbled out of his cabin, the sun was nearly
overhead and the bright light made his already
aching head pound. With a groan and shielding his
eyes with his hands, he went to the outhouse to do
his business then weakly limped inside the mess
hall, where he found Mrs. Potter and Katie waiting
for him. Judging from the way Katie pointedly turned
her back on him, Will was in disgrace. At some point
in the day, he figured he might even care.

“Had a few too many?” Mrs. Potter asked frostily.
“Wasn’t plannin’ on it,” Will muttered, his

forehead on the table. “Then Sutton came in with
Jacob and it was either drink or bash the man’s head
in with the whisky bottle.”

“Well, I guess that’s understandable,” she

answered, her tone softened a bit. “At any rate, we
saved some breakfast for you. It’s on the stove.”

Will didn’t particularly want breakfast and he

certainly didn’t want to sit up from his current
position, but it’d been kind of Mrs. Potter to set
the breakfast aside. It occurred to him that he had
completely forgotten to pick up the supplies from the
store so, feeling a mite guilty, Will dragged himself
upright to collect the plate, though once he achieved
his seat again he did little more than pick away at
the cold biscuits.

He’d managed to reduce one biscuit into a pile of

crumbs before he thought to ask, “Where’s Jesse?”

150

“Went to town,” Mrs. Potter said as she put an

enormous kettle on the stove. “He took the packhorse.
Said you ordered some supplies yesterday but never
picked them up?”

Will groaned and put his head back down again.
By the time he was feeling human enough to

really take in his surroundings, the cabin was
getting thick with steam from all of the pots and
kettles Mrs. Potter had put on the stovetop. “Are you
boiling water?”

She gave him a look like he was mentally deficient,

which was justified. “Katie’s dresses are filthy, Mr.
Connors, and her only other clothes appear to be a
set of trousers. It is high time she learns how to do
her laundry.”

Will winced at the ‘Mr. Connors’ and glanced

over at Katie. Judging from her expression, she was
already fully aware of how to do laundry. Of course, if
she was anything like Tommy, she’d fake ignorance
as long as possible.

Feeling an unaccountable warmth in his chest,

Will patted Katie on the head. She allowed it, which
gave him hope that he was on his way to being
forgiven for disappearing the day before.

Suddenly, he heard the faint sound of hoofbeats

in the distance. “You expecting any company,
Mrs. otter?”

“No, why?”
“I hear horses coming.”
Mrs. Potter burst into motion, moving pots off the

stove and reaching under the cabinet to produce a
shotgun. “Katie,” she said briskly. “You know what

151

to do.”

Katie dove under the table. Will leaned over to

the side to see her pulling the rug away from the
trapdoor. With a practiced ease that gave Will some
idea what she and Mrs. Potter had been working
on while he was in town yesterday, Katie lifted the
trapdoor, slid into the cellar, and closed the door
after. Impressed, Will finished the deed by pulling
the rug back in place with the toe of his boot.

Mrs. Potter cracked open the shotgun and loaded

a pair of shells. Another handful of shells went into
the pocket of her apron.

Will thought about running out to his cabin to get

his rifle but, considering his current state, he was
afraid he’d be more likely to accidentally shoot Mrs.
Potter than he would the new arrivals, so instead he
went outside to the porch and stayed there with the
intention of doing his best to talk the intruders down
and provide a distraction in case Mrs. Potter needed
to start shooting.

What he saw when he went outside, however,

made him turn right back around into the mess
hall. Mrs. Potter,” he said, feeling a rising sense of
doom in his gut. “Our reinforcements are here.”

The tension in the air was thick enough to be

cut with a knife. The shotgun was laid on the table
between the two opposing parties and scathing
words were so close to the surface they were nearly
audible.

Will put his head down on the table. If he’d known

he was going to end this day in the same house as

152

five females and a shotgun, he’d have gone after
Jesse to help with the supplies.

“So,” Mrs. Potter said crisply. “You’re friends of

Mr. Anderson’s.”

On the other side of the table were three women:

Roberta, dressed in considerably more clothing
than the last time Will had seen her and with her
blonde hair pinned up neatly under a bonnet; Suzie,
who had grown a bit since Will had last seen her
and had filled out enough that she wouldn’t be
passing for fourteen any longer; and a woman he’d
never met before, named Anne. Unlike Roberta
and Suzie, Anne was not a prostitute but a female
sharpshooter. She was also wearing trousers, to Mrs.
Potter’s disapproval. Apparently Anne’s parents
had been quite enamored of Annie Oakley and had
given her both Oakley’s name and trained her in
the same profession. All of which Will learned from
Suzie, as Anne was doing a marvelous imitation of
the still-hidden Katie and hadn’t said a word. Her
eyes seemed to be locked on a specific piece of air
somewhere between Will and Mrs. otter.

While Will could not imagine how Suzie and

Anne had met, he didn’t miss the way they had
subtly adjusted their seats so that they were sitting
close enough that their arms touched from shoulder
to elbow. Judging from the way Mrs. Potter’s lips
were pressed together, she hadn’t missed the seating
arrangement either.

“John and I go way back,” Roberta said, and it

occurred to Will that he’d never asked John how
he knew Roberta. Thinking back to how John had

153

trusted Roberta enough to not only see her in Bisbee,
but to tell her where he would be staying despite
the thousand dollar price on his head, that was a
question Will probably should have asked.

Now wasn’t the time, however, as Mrs. Potter’s

lips had pursed up even tighter. “Maybe you could
just tell us what John told you,” Will suggested.

“He sent us a telegram,” Suzie said. She pulled a

tiny purse from somewhere – she was dressed even
more nicely than Roberta, though Will thought he’d
caught a glimpse of some extremely out-of-fashion
bloomers under her skirt – and pulled out a sheet of
paper. “Here.”

Will and Mrs. Potter both leaned in to read it:

Have immediate job STOP ood pay STOP ocation A
STOP Bring bullets and short shotgun STOP.

“Location A?” Will asked.
“John told me where your ranch was last time you

were in Bisbee. Said if I needed a place to hide out,
I could come here. Then he moved to Boston. hat’s
location B.” Roberta reached down to pick up a set of
heavily-laden saddlebags. “He didn’t specify which
bullets to bring, so I brought some of those new .38
specials. They’ll fit his revolvers and they have more
kick than the .357s. Anne uses them for her rifle and
swears by them.”

Will looked over at Anne. Anne continued to stare

at that fascinating bit of air.

“There’s also a short-barreled shotgun in there,

with shells,” Roberta added. “If you need anything
else, we’ll get it for you in town.”

That caught Will’s and Mrs. Potter’s

154

attention. You’re going to town?”

“Suzie and I are, as soon as we’re done here. nne’s

going to hafta stay behind until she’s needed. Way I
hear it, there’s no rooms left in town except at the
whorehouses.”

Mrs. Potter made a pained noise. Will

sighed. Have you had a chance to talk to John yet?”

“He left a letter for us in a cave a mile or so from

here,” Suzie said.

“Locations always have a drop point,” Roberta

added. “Now if you need anything, either Suzie or
I’ll be working at Herrod’s by tonight –”

“It’s a Sunday!” Mrs. Potter interjected.
Roberta just continued on. “The other’ll find

work in one of the other saloons, since it sounds
like there’s too many people participating in the
tournament for Herrod’s to be servicing them all. ny
information Suzie and I find out, we’ll be passing on
to you, so if one of us asks you to come upstairs, you
say yes.”

“Won’t anyone question why a couple of new

whores are showing up right before the tournament
starts?” Will asked, doing his best to ignore the
disapproval wafting off of Mrs. Potter in stifling
waves.

“You let us worry about that,” Suzie said

calmly. While we’re here, though, tell us if there’s
anyone you want removed from the competition.”

Will’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Best you don’t ask.”
Less than satisfied, but quite confident Suzie

wasn’t going to tell him any more, Will sighed and

155

mentally pulled up his list of gunslingers. “I don’t
know any of their names, but generally speaking,
the more of Sutton’s men who lose, the better.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Suzie said. She turned

to Anne. “Let’s get you settled before Roberta and I
leave.”

Without so much as a goodbye, the three of them

marched out the door, the only lasting sign of their
invasion a large bag of bullets resting on the table.

By the time Jesse got back with the supplies,

Anne was ensconced in one of the cabins and
Roberta and Suzie had long since left for town. atie,
having suffered no apparent ill effects from hiding
in the cellar, was working on some math problems
that Will had given her. She seemed to be having
much more success with mathematics than she was
at learning how to write, though Will had a sneaking
suspicion that she understood more of her reading
than she was letting on.

Jesse and his mountain of supplies were treated

like a hero coming home from war; even Will was
getting tired of beans and biscuits. “Have you
considered slaughtering one of the cattle?” Will
asked as he helped unpack the supplies.

“It’s a two-man job, even with the wagon,”

Jesse said. “Mrs. Potter could have helped with the
butchering, but without the wagon and with most of
the horses taken by the boys, we would have had to
leave most of the carcass where it lay.”

“Surefire way to draw coyotes onto the ranch,” ill

acknowledged. “But there’s two of us here now, and
four horses, if you count Anne’s.”

156

At which point, the presence of Anne had to

be explained. Jesse looked rather astonished to
know that Will was on a first-name basis with
a trio of women, even after Will explained their
professions. till, he was undeniably most impressed
by what he heard of Anne. “A female sharpshooter
right here on our ranch,” Jesse said, wonderingly.
“Imagine that.”

Mrs. Potter slammed a pan onto the stove.
“Maybe we should take a look at the herd,” Will

suggested. “See if we can’t cut one out and bring it
back.”

Fortunately, the prospect of fresh meat for dinner

was enough to motivate Jesse back into the saddle
and soon enough they were riding out to the herd,
comparing notes about gunslingers the entire way. I
think the others are all scared of Mr. Anderson,” esse
said conspiratorially. “Nobody will look him in the
face.”

“He had a reputation long before I ever met

him. he books are just making that reputation
bigger.”

“He’s a nice guy, though,” Jesse said.
“Really,” Will said dubiously.
“Yeah. He’s been giving me tips about my

shooting and what you should do in a duel. And
yesterday he offered to introduce me to one of the
ladies at Herrod’s so I could take her to dinner.”

Will looked over incredulously. “Jesse, you do

know that those women are prostitutes.”

“I wasn’t looking to have sex with her,” Jesse

said, sounding offended. “I wanted to see if she’d let

157

me get to know her better.”

Will stared at him. “Jesse, feel free to tell me to go

to hell if you don’t want to answer this, but – ave you
ever had relations with a woman?”

Jesse’s face turned bright red, which unfortunately

clashed quite badly with his hair. Not many chances
for a guy like me.”

“Jesse. There are four saloons and a whorehouse

in this town alone. Three more saloons in River
Bend, and you could get there and back in a day.”

“I just don’t think it’s right to pay for it,” Jesse

said, his face burning. “Those kinda relations should
be between people who love each other. oney
shouldn’t be involved.”

Will thought about informing Jesse that

many marriages were little more than a financial
transaction. With there being so few ways for women
to make money, for many of them marriage was
their job and their only possible livelihood. esse’s
innocence was appealing, however, and Will was
firmly of the belief that the best marriages were the
ones founded on love, so he just nodded. Surprised
you haven’t been out courting, then. Is the ranch not
paying you enough to support a wife?”

Jesse shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s just – here

ain’t many unattached ladies in town, and most of
them remember me as the sheep rancher who had
to smoke meat to make ends meet. I got a steady job
now, but that ain’t worth as much as you’d think.”

Will frowned. He could hardly tell Jesse that he’d

filled out into a fine-looking man, but it was true.
Will would’ve guessed the women in Dead Horse

158

would have jumped to be courted by Jesse. How
often do you go into town?”

“I used to go often enough. Supplies runs once

or twice a month, trips to get a haircut or to go to the
bank.”

“Let me guess: the haircuts and bank visits were

the same days as the supply runs.”

“Couldn’t get away often,” Jesse said

defensively. Too many boys and, well. Mrs. Potter
probably wouldn’t want me telling you this, but
some of the boys could be kind of dangerous.”

Will pulled Clarence to a halt. “What do you

mean, dangerous?”

Jesse circled the horse around, looking reluctant.

“Orphans don’t have an easy life, Will. y the time
they get here, a lot of them have violence and anger
in their bones. Some learn better. Some don’t.”

“John and I have been getting progress reports

for years. There’s never been any mention of this.”

“Mrs. Potter’s afraid that if we told you – well, not

you, Mr. Merriweather – that you’d shut down the
ranch. It is a good place, for the most part. e’re able
to help more boys than not.”

“We wouldn’t have shut down the ranch,” Will

said, suddenly weary. “Though I can see why you
wouldn’t trust a man you hadn’t met yet. But I wish
you’d told us. We could have hired more hands to
help out with the boys.” He sighed and nudged
Clarence into a walk. “Once the Sutton situation’s
taken care of, we’ll look into hiring more staff. aybe
put up some more outbuildings. I saw you put up a
smokehouse.”

159

Jesse looked abashed. “Thought it would be good

for the boys to learn how to cure meat.”

“That was a good thought. The more skills we can

give the boys, the better. I was thinking we could also
put a small dairy in the barn. Maybe set aside part of
the ranch for sheep so the boys can learn shearing.”
He thought back to the absurdly large chicken coop
John had built. “Maybe get some more chickens for
the coop.”

Jesse winced. “We did have chickens while

the boys were here. Once Sutton came into town,
though, we had a tough time getting feed. Thought
eating the birds would be better than them starving
to death.”

“Not arguing. I could tell from the state of your

larder how hard life’s been since Sutton came to
town. I’m guessing the last money order we sent was
confiscated by him.”

Jesse nodded tightly.
Will blew out a breath. “Okay. I sincerely hope a

situation like this never happens again, but if it does,
you have permission to sell the cattle. If you have to,
you can sell the goddamn ranch.”

“You can’t give me permission for that, it’s John’s

ranch.”

Never before had Will wanted to explain how his

and John’s relationship worked. Not to anyone. art
of him wanted to tell Jesse now, the desire made more
powerful by the fact that it was the first time he’d
experienced the feeling, but no matter how much
easier it would make this argument, the argument it
would cause would be far worse. So he settled for a

160

half-truth: “John does own the ranch, but he has me
handle most of the management of it.” Jesse didn’t
look convinced, so Will added, “I’m a very popular
author, Jesse. My books sell very well. I can repay
John if the ranch has to be sold. I don’t want you
or Mrs. Potter to worry about that if the time ever
comes.”

Jesse rode in silence for a few minutes. “Guess

it’s not very likely a man like Sutton will come to
town again.”

“Maybe not, but if –”
“If it does, though, Mrs. Potter and I’ll do what

we need to. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Good,” Will said, feeling enormously

relieved. That’s good.”

In the end it took them too long to find the herd. f

John and Old Faithful had been with him, Will might
still have attempted it, but John was miles away and
Old Faithful vastly farther, and he was glad when
Jesse suggested they head back without an animal.

Back at the ranch, they found a feast awaiting

them: salt pork and boiled potatoes and fresh, fluffy
bread. There was even a bowl of dried apples for
dessert. Mrs. Potter was bustling about the kitchen,
putting away the last of the supplies, cleaning up the
sideboard of flour and scraps of bread dough, and
setting the table. Katie and Anne were both sitting
at the far end of the table, away from Mrs. otter’s
activities, Katie drawing pictures of objects that
began with the letters written at the top of each page
and Anne cleaning her rifle. Both looked up when
Will and Jesse stepped inside. Neither said a word.

161

Jesse, seeing Anne for the first time, turned

cherry red. “H-he-hello, ma’am.” Belatedly he
whipped his hat off of his head, revealing flattened
hair and a crease where his hatband pressed into
his forehead. It was not an attractive look and Will
wasn’t surprised when Anne looked away, saying
nothing. Didn’t stop him from feeling sympathetic
when Jesse’s shoulders slumped, though, and he
looked about for a distraction.

“Dinner looks great, Mrs. Potter. Anything I can

help with?”

“Everything’s ready. If we can all take a seat, I’ll

say the prayer.”

During dinner, Will and Mrs. Potter attempted to

carry the conversation, but it was difficult because
all of them were distracted by Anne’s bizarre way of
eating. She’d taken nothing but bread and potatoes
and instead of chewing like a normal person, she
thoroughly mashed the potatoes before putting them
in her mouth and tore the bread into tiny slivers
that she nibbled on like a rabbit. Since the nibbling
clearly indicated that she had all of her teeth, there
was no obvious explanation for the strange eating
method and Will found himself sending rather more
glances in Anne’s direction than was polite.

Katie, on the other hand, positively stared until

Will kicked her on the ankle a few times. After that,
conversation improved as Will was feeling guilty at
his own behavior and, judging from their blushes,
Jesse and Mrs. Potter were feeling the same.

The good food and conversation served to

improve Jesse’s mood and by the time dinner was

163

Chapter 12

The next morning, Will was up early. Restless

sleep had left him with the kind of exhaustion that
was only made worse by more sleep, so he dragged
himself out of bed and went to start the pot of coffee.
Anne was already awake and sitting in the mess hall,
her entire body held rigid as she inspected bullets.
Two were set aside and the rest were put into a small
pouch that she tied around her belt.

“Are you planning on coming into town with us

today?” Will asked. He let his eyes close as he took
that first precious sip of coffee. When he opened
them, he found that he was alone in the mess hall.

No direct questions to Anne. He’d have to

remember that.

Mrs. Potter bustled in before Will finished his first

cup of coffee and Jesse came in shortly after. reakfast
was a simple affair: pressed cereal and evaporated
milk. The only sounds at the table were the wet
crunches as they ate.

They couldn’t put off the inevitable for long,

however, and Will sighed as he finished the last of
his coffee. “Guess we should get going. See who
you’re fighting.”

Jesse’s face was so pale as to be chalky, but he

nodded sharply. Both he and Will gave Mrs. Potter
a hug before they left. The watery smile she offered
them in return made Will’s throat ache.

“Think I should say goodbye to Katie before I

go?” Jesse asked as they saddled the horses.

164

Will thought about what he would do if they woke

Katie for Jesse to say goodbye only for Will to come
back that evening to tell her that Jesse was dead.
“No. Considering how often we’ve been sneaking
out of here, I think it’d just make her worried.”

The ride into town was silent. Will didn’t know

what Jesse was thinking, but Will was considering
the possibility that John might die today. If he did
– ell, Will hadn’t forgotten what life was like after
Molly’s death. If it hadn’t been for Mrs. Potter and
her band of busybodies, Will would have followed
soon after. He wasn’t sure he could survive that kind
of grief twice.

The town was nearly as silent as it had been

when they’d arrived on Saturday; either the majority
of the gunmen didn’t have qualms about drinking on
Sundays or they were all naturally late sleepers.

With a full afternoon of dueling scheduled, there

was no possibility of tying the horses to the hitching
rail so, with little expectation of success, Will and
Jesse headed to the stables. They found a temporary
paddock had been put up outside the stable, with
extra hooks inside for saddles. While dropping off his
saddle, Will noticed that Butterscotch was ensconced
in a stall; he wondered what unlucky person’s horse
had been evicted to make that possible.

“Now what?” Will asked as they left the

stables. Herrod’s?”

“No point in putting it off,” Jesse said in a

strangled sounding voice. Will offered a tight smile
of support and followed him to the saloon.

Inside, they found a rather larger crowd than Will

165

had expected, but the mood was subdued as men sat
hunched over their coffees and mostly ignored both
the gaming tables and the lone, tired-looking whore.
He offered her a sympathetic smile, but when she
started to move in his direction, he immediately
shook his head.

The varying scrawled names on the board had

been erased and a neat list of sixteen pairings was
in its place. There was a time next to each pair; it
appeared the bouts were scheduled to be set fifteen
minutes apart.

After perusing the board for a good ten minutes,

Jesse voiced the very question Will was thinking. Do
you think the draw was rigged?”

“I don’t know,” Will admitted. “I’d guess it was,

but I can’t tell for sure.” The significant flaw in his
nickname system was that right now he had no
idea who any of the men were on the board, aside
from the John Andersons. Those were all numbered
one through six, presumably in the order that they
signed up for the tournament. If that was the case,
then John, the real John, was scheduled for the fifth
duel, against someone named Wentworth Bailey. ill
wondered if that was the Man in White. He’d sort of
looked like a Wentworth.

The fourth duel was John Anderson 5, which was

Little John. He was fighting an Ismael Glass.

John Anderson 3, whichever one that was, was in

the very first duel, which made Will wonder if Sutton
wasn’t trying to weed out the amateurs before the
real John Anderson took the street.

Jesse was scheduled for the last fight of the day,

166

dueling against a Nolan Caine. “At least we have
plenty of time to figure out who Nolan Caine is,” ill
offered when Jesse continued to stare at his name
on the board.

“I need a drink,” Jesse said hoarsely.
“Amen to that,” Will muttered, already heading

for the bar.

Jesse got a whole bottle of whisky, but they nursed

their drinks, barely making a dent in the bottle
by the time the saloon began to get significantly
crowded. As more and more people arrived, the
volume of noise rose till it was nearly at a fevered
pitch, with more than one fistfight breaking out over
the gambling tables.

John arrived late in the morning, a mere half

hour before the tournament was about to start. Will
wondered what he’d been up to the night before that
made him so late, then he realized that there was a
good chance John saw this list yesterday and knew
he didn’t have to be ready right at noon.

Ten minutes before noon, the doors opened and

Sutton’s entourage appeared. Will gripped his shot
glass so tightly that he feared it would break in
his hand, but he refrained from gulping down the
contents. He needed to be alert and aware today, for
John and for Jesse.

Belatedly, it occurred to him to wonder if there

was even a doctor in town for the tournament. here
hadn’t been one when he’d left Dead Horse four
years ago.

Before Will could ask Jesse about a doctor, Sutton

cleared his throat. When that did little to subdue

167

the din in the room, one of the Pinkertons shouted,
“Quiet! Quiet!”

Slowly the cacophony silenced. “Thank

you,” utton said. “As you know, the first annual
Liberty Gunslinging Tournament is to begin in
ten minutes. or the first round of the tournament,
each match will last up to a quarter of an hour. The
beginning of the match will be marked by me calling
‘time’. ou may fire beginning at that moment.
Anyone who fires early will be put down by my men.”
There was a long pause as Sutton looked around the
room. Will didn’t think it was imagination that the
Pinkertons started fondling their shotguns at that
moment.

After the lengthy pause, Sutton continued. “You

are allowed to fire as many bullets as your gun can
carry, but reloading will not be allowed. The man
left standing at the end of the duel is the winner.” e
took a deep breath and reached into his pocket to
pull out a gold watch. “My watch will be the official
timepiece for the event. At this moment in time
it says it is 11:54 a.m. Adjust your own watches
accordingly.”

Will snorted at the idea that most of the scruffy

men in the room could even afford a watch. Most
would be using the clock in the saloon, which looked
to be a minute slow.

Sutton gave no notice of the inaccurate clock,

and just continued his speech. “Anyone who does
not show up on time will be disqualified and
ejected from the town. I am very excited about the
outcome of these duels, gentlemen, and I’d hate to

168

be disappointed.” He checked his watch again. “I
suggest we move to the street. The first duel starts
in five minutes.”

There was an immediate stampede for the

doors. rom the safety of his corner of the saloon,
Will watched as John and Sutton’s group were
caught up in the wash and ended out in the street.
Will and Jesse followed once the flood had mostly
abated, though once they reached the outdoors, Will
realized the flaw in their plan: from their position
behind the rest of the crowd, there wasn’t much to
be seen. Jesse seemed content to crane his head
over the top of the crowd, but Will wanted, at the
very least, to see which John Anderson was fighting
before the man was shot, so he slid along the wall of
the buildings until he reached the very edge of the
crowd, putting him almost directly in line with John
Anderson 3, who ended up being Poor John. From
this angle and distance, Will couldn’t see anything of
John’s opponent, so he focused instead on taking in
as much detail about Poor John as possible, from the
boy’s shabby suit – he same one he’d been wearing
on Saturday – to his pristinely combed and hatless
head to the spotless Colt Peacemaker he had on his
belt. Will hadn’t seen many men wearing Colts to
the tournament; the Smith & Wesson #3 American
was apparently the preferred gun for a quickdraw
competition, maybe because the top break design
made them easy to reload in tournaments with less
stringent rules.

Still, John’s gun was a Colt and that meant they

were familiar to Will, especially after writing stories

169

featuring them for years. Maybe those stories were
why Poor John was wearing a Colt. Maybe he couldn’t
afford a newer gun. Maybe he just liked the gun
because of how it performed. Whatever the reason, it
made Will go from indifference to the outcome of the
duel to actively offering silent support to Poor John.

“One minute!” Sutton shouted, dragging Will’s

attention away from Poor John. The crowd shifted
slightly and Will caught a quick glimpse of John’s
opponent: it was one of the Poker Players, the one
who had joked about the number of John Andersons
signed up for the tournament. The fact that said
Player was currently facing one of those Johns
did nothing to assuage Will’s suspicions that the
competition was rigged.

“Ten!”
Will’s eyes turned to Sutton, who was staring at

his watch.

“Nine!”
A glance to Sutton’s right, where Jacob was

sitting on a cushioned stool and staring avidly at
Poor John.

“Eight!”
A quick glance over the crowd revealed the real

John was looking directly at Will.

“Seven!”
Will smiled at John, but forced himself to look

away before anyone noticed the exchange.

“Six!”
Poor John’s stance shifted as he turned to fully

face his opponent.

“Five!”

170

Poor John pulled back his coat, completely

exposing his gun.

“Four!”
Poor John’s hand hovered over the handle of the

weapon and his eyes narrowed.

“Three!”
Will risked a glance at the other side of the street,

poking his head out enough to see that the Player
was also in a shooting stance.

“Two!”
Poor John’s fingers were brushing his gun now,

and his entire body was a twisted coil of tension.

“Time!”
Two shots rang out, so close that they almost

sounded like one.

The crowd surged forward a like an ambitious

wave pushing just a few inches higher up on a beach,
completely blocking Will’s view of the other end of
the street. Just looking at Poor John was enough,
however; he was standing tall and his arm was held
out, steadily pointing his gun at his opponent. There
was no blood in sight.

From over the heads of the crowd, Will heard a

man shout, “He’s dead!” and Poor John immediately
lowered his gun. He didn’t look distressed or sad or
sick. If Will hadn’t heard the shout, he would never
have realized that Poor John had just killed another
human being.

The spectators suddenly burst into cheers and

swept forth into the street. Most went to Poor John,
crowding around him until the man himself was
completely hidden to outside eyes. A few headed for

171

the dead man, most to pick over his body for loot, but
a few who looked genuinely sad that he was gone.
This latter group mostly consisted of the other poker
players, who looked universally grim.

“Next fight’s in ten minutes!” Sutton shouted. ill

didn’t think anyone else heard, but he turned himself
around and went into Herrod’s. He needed a drink.

The second duel was between two people who

weren’t named John Anderson and as Will downed
his third shot in as many minutes, he seriously
contemplated skipping the fight altogether.

As he lifted his glass for a fourth time, a hand laid

itself over the top of the glass and pushed it back
down to the table.

Taken aback, Will stared at the glass for a second

before looking up.

Roberta stared back.
Will opened his mouth, but Roberta put a finger

over his lips. “Come on, sugar. Let me make you feel
good.”

Will didn’t think it was possible to feel good. Not

at that moment, maybe never again. He kept that
opinion to himself, however, as he followed Roberta
up the stairs to a narrow hallway lined with more
doors than one usually saw in an establishment that
ostensibly provided rooms for rent. Roberta opened
the door directly to the left of the stairs, revealing
a very small room almost entirely taken up by a
crumpled, well-used bed. Will stared at that bed in
horror. “You don’t want us to –”

Roberta was rolling her eyes. “Of course not. ohn

would kill me. And he’s going to kill you if you’re

172

too drunk to see him fight. I’d prefer not to see that
happen, so you can watch the next couple of fights
in here. Then you need to go down and steer clear of
the bottle on the way to the street. kay?”

“I’d really rather not watch any more fights,” Will

said honestly. Then he scowled. He hadn’t meant to
say that.

“I don’t give a good goddamn what you want,

Will. John is putting his life on the line for this town;
the least you can do is watch.”

Will blinked at her, feeling suitably chastised. Yes,

ma’am.”

She nodded sharply. “Good. You’ve got twenty

minutes, then you need to get down. I don’t want
the barkeep wondering why it’s taking so long.”

Truth be told, Will thought twenty minutes was

a bit excessive for the kind of sex a man had with a
whore, but he wasn’t about to turn down the gift, so
he went to the window without comment. It had a
perfect view of the street. “How’d you get this room,
anyway?”

“Wasn’t hard,” Roberta said from right behind

him. He shifted over so she could see the view as
well. “Just explained to the girl who was here how
often bullets went astray in gunfights. She was
plenty happy to swap rooms after that.” Roberta
nodded over at the far end of the street. “That’s one
of Sutton’s deputies.”

“So’s the one on this end, I think,” Will said

thoughtfully. “He’s one of the poker players.” He
looked over at Roberta. “You think this tournament
is rigged?”

173

“It is rigged. They drew the names at random, but

last night when everyone else was asleep I snuck
out to see Sutton changing some of the names on the
board. He didn’t change all of the names, though,
just a few.”

“Probably he changed who John was fighting.”
“I’m sure.” She nodded down in the street. Doubt

he bothered with this one, though, not unless he has
a few guns that are just a bit too strong, or too weak,
or too disloyal for him to want to keep.”

“I’m guessing a man like Sutton would have all

three.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.
“John tell you about Jacob Landon?”

She nodded grimly. “Not the first time I heard of

a situation like that. Happens more often with boys
than you’d think. Single man with a girl has to do
some explaining. No one asks questions of a single
man with a boy.” Suddenly she straightened. Looks
like the next fight is about to start.”

Will reluctantly turned his attention back to the

street. From this distance he couldn’t make out the
men’s expressions, but he could see the way their
stances widened as they faced each other. Sutton
started counting down the last ten seconds, his voice
carrying well even to the second floor of the saloon.

The second he called time, the two men fired. ne

fell to the ground and a man with bright blond hair
and carrying a black bag ran forward. “Who’s the
doctor?” Will asked as the doc declared the downed
man dead. The man still standing – the poker player
– raised his arms and shot twice into the sky, dancing
a bit in excitement.

174

“Think he’s someone Sutton brought in from

Mexico. Suzie would know better; I think he’s
staying in her saloon.”

Will nodded, his eyes still locked on the street. t

was easier to watch from up here, he decided. A
man’s death didn’t seem as immediate when he
was separate from the cheering crowd and the
celebrating victor.

Roberta started speculating on the next fight and

it occurred to Will that she knew far more about
gunfighting than he did. When he asked her about
it, she shrugged. “Seen a lot of duels in Bisbee,
mostly between men who’ve drunk more than they
should. Happens less often these days, since there’s
more law out here. I didn’t think it’d be possible to
see another tournament like Stone used to throw;
imagine this one’ll probably be the last, if John does
his job right.”

Will stared at Roberta, his interest in the next two

fighters completely forgotten. “You knew Tanner
Stone?”

Roberta frowned. “Didn’t John tell you how we

met?”

“It hasn’t come up,” Will said, feeling vaguely

guilty.

Roberta looked away, appearing uncertain for the

first time since he’d met her. “It ain’t a pretty story.”

“After the last few weeks, I’m starting to forget

pretty stories even exist.” When Roberta didn’t seem
convinced, Will added gently, “Tell me anyway.”

She bowed her head for a moment before sighing

and leaning back against the wall. “I was so very

175

young and so very innocent. You have to keep that
in mind, because otherwise it’s hard believe that I
could’ve been so damn stupid. hough, in my defense,
other women answered those advertisements and
found everything they were looking for.”

“Advertisements?”
“For brides,” Roberta said with a bitter smile. “I

was a mail-order bride.”

“Oh,” Will said, feeling ill as he realized where

this story was leading. “For one of Stone’s men?”

“For all of Stone’s men. Of course, I didn’t

know that at the time. I just knew there was a man
named Tanner Stone who lived in Arizona and was
advertising for a wife. His advertisement said that
he’d struck gold and was a wealthy man who just
needed a companion to make his life complete. I
was fifteen when I saw that advertisement, living
in Pittsburgh. My daddy was killed the year before
in the railroad strike riots and my momma couldn’t
hardly feed me and my sisters on the money she
made washing coal dust off the windows in rich
folks’ homes. I figured at least going west would
be an adventure, with clean air and a good home
waiting for me.

“Instead, the stagecoach dropped me off in the

middle of the desert, twenty miles from a town in
either direction. I was a little comforted when I first
saw Stone – he was a handsome man, you know,
when he was younger – and I even thought I was
having my adventure when he had me ride pillion
on his horse as we went back to his gang. The whole
way he was talking about Mormons and how all of

176

those Mormon men could have as many wives as
they wanted. I didn’t think anything of it until we
were almost at the camp and he said – I’ll never
forget this – ‘It’s not hardly fair for the women. Not
only don’t they get the chance to have more than one
husband, they have to share the one they do get.’
That’s when I started to realize I was in trouble, but
by then it was too late. We were already in the camp
and there were dozens of men around, all of them
cheering as Stone rode in.”

She took a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t know –”
A pair of gunshots rang out and Roberta and Will

both turned to see that the next duel was already
over, with one poker player left standing and the
blond poker player lying on the ground. Will shook
his head, wondering if it was chance or Sutton that
put all of the poker players in the first few duels. At
least this time the downed man was still moving;
maybe he’d survive.

“You should go,” Roberta said.
“I’d rather hear the rest of your story,” Will said. e

wasn’t being completely honest, but he didn’t think
she would have told as much as she had if she didn’t
really want to get the words off her chest.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Stone

had a preacher there. Don’t know where he found
him or how he convinced him to do it, but the
preacher held a wedding ceremony marrying me to
the entire gang. I cried and pleaded and begged him
to stop, but he never once looked at me and the more
I sobbed, the more the gang laughed.

“When the preacher was done, Stone killed

177

him.” oberta’s voice cracked on the last word and for
a moment she covered her face with her hands. hen
she looked up her eyes were red-rimmed, but dry. “I
don’t remember much of what happened after that,
for which I’m grateful. I just know that when I came
back to myself I was lying in the back of a shallow
cave, my hands and feet tied.” She managed a tiny
smile. “Stupid bastards had tied my hands in front
of me. My whole face hurt – I think they must’ve
beaten me – but I managed to get my hands free and
then my feet.

“I was sneaking out of the cave when I ran into

John.

“Of course, I didn’t know who he was at the time,

I just thought he was another man coming to rape
me. I couldn’t scream, because that would just bring
more men to hurt me, so I tried to dodge around him.
He grabbed me and I tried to bite him, so he covered
my mouth and whispered in my ear that there was a
horse just outside the camp and that he’d distract the
guards for me.”

“And you trusted him?” Will asked.
“What else could I do? A chance at escape was

better than no escape at all. And when I snuck out
past the camp, there the horse was, just like the man
had said. It was even saddled and in the saddlebags
I found food and money and a map to the nearest
town. No gun, though – I think he knew if he gave
me a gun I’d’ve turned right back around and gotten
myself killed trying to put a bullet into Stone’s head.

“I probably wouldn’t have survived if Stone’s

camp hadn’t been so close to Yuma. It was a big

178

enough town to have a small hospital, and the money
John gave me was enough to pay for my treatment. It
didn’t last much longer than that, though, and there
isn’t much a woman can do out west. Soiled as I was,
I couldn’t marry and I had no skills as a seamstress
or a teacher. That just left whoring.”

Will cursed. Roberta’s eyes softened and she

put a hand on Will’s arm. “Women don’t become
prostitutes for pleasure, Will. It’s what they do when
they have no better options left.”

“But how did you end up in Bisbee?”
Out on the street, Sutton called one minute to the

next duel. Roberta shook her head. “That’ll have to
be a story for another time. You can stay here and
watch this duel, but then you have to leave. John’s
next.”

Will eyed her for a second, then nodded. “Listen,

I don’t know what John promised you for this, but if
you want, we’ll bring you to Boston with us. On top
of your payment. Suzie and Anne, too, if they want
to come.”

“Thank you, Will,” Roberta said, and Will didn’t

think it was his imagination that her voice was a
little lighter than it had been before.

He turned his attention to the street, where Little

John was facing off against yet another poker player.
Adding them up in his head, Will realized this was
the last one. Even if he survived, the table was going
to be very empty tomorrow. “Who do you favor?” he
asked as Sutton started counting down.

“The dwarf,” Roberta said immediately. “You

don’t have time to aim in quickdraw, so when you’re

179

practicing you spend most of your time learning to
shoot the exact same spot every time you draw. hat
spot is usually a man’s chest, where a bit of error
won’t make much difference. Against a man as small
as the dwarf –”

Gunshots went off. Little John’s hat went flying,

while the last poker player collapsed on the ground.

“– that would put the bullet right above his

head. nd now it’s time for you to go.”

Will sighed, but nodded his understanding. He

turned to leave, but at the last second turned back
to kiss Roberta on the cheek. “I’m glad to know you,
Roberta ...” He trailed off, realizing he’d never asked
her last name.

“Bean,” she said with a slight smile. “Roberta

Bean.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Roberta Bean,” Will

said, smiling back. “I look forward to getting to
know you better.” He pressed her hands between his
own, then finally took his leave, feeling that he had
gone into the room to meet a stranger and had left
the room with a friend.

180

Chapter 13

Will thought the crowd for the first duel had been

bad, but it was nothing compared to the crowd for
John’s. This time, however, Will wasn’t willing to
stand at the edges, so he shoved his way through the
thickest part of the mass of people, elbowing bodies
aside with abandon and ignoring all protests, until
he emerged mere feet away from where John was
standing.

For a man facing possible death, John looked

amazingly relaxed. His back was straight, his
shoulders were loose, and there was a casual cant
to his hips. He was even smiling a little, the same
smile he had when he was working on his chicken
castle designs.

In contrast, Wentworth Bailey – who wasn’t the

Man in White after all – looked a half-second away
from pissing his pants. His hair was in shambles,
as if he’d been running his fingers through it, his
hands were shaking, and every few seconds he
adjusted his suit jacket. It was a nice suit, almost as
nice as John’s, and Will couldn’t help but wonder if
the young man had come from back east for a little
adventure and, like Roberta, gotten himself into a
dangerous situation through his naiveté.

Part of Will desperately hoped that John didn’t

kill this man, who was barely more than a boy and
who had a whole life ahead of him. That was the
part of him trying to forget what Roberta had said
about how impossible it was to aim in a quickdraw

181

competition. The rest of Will, the significant majority,
wanted John to live, even if it meant this poor boy
had to die.

Sutton began the countdown. Will swallowed

hard and looked between the two duelists. John had
settled into a tight but comfortable looking stance.
Down the street, Wentworth Bailey stood more
awkwardly, his fingers so close to his gun handle
that it looked like it was already in his hand.

“Five!”
The crowd’s murmurs started dying away.
“Four!”
John crouched a little lower.
“Three!”
Wentworth Bailey narrowed his eyes.
“Two!”
Will gritted his teeth.
“Time!”
The gunshots rang out, but neither man fell. ill’s

eyes ran frantically over John’s body, looking for
even the slightest hint of blood.

A loud sob was heard over the hush of the crowd

and Will turned to look down to the other side of
the street. There he saw Bailey staring at his blood-
covered hands as red fluid sprayed out of a hole in
his leg, splattering in an arc before falling down to
the hard-packed dirt.

Will looked back at John, whose face was drawn.
John’s lips shaped the word, “Damn,” but he

didn’t make a sound.

The doctor was already running out into the

street. “Sorry son,” he told the wailing Bailey, who

182

had collapsed onto his rump in the packed dirt,
his blood-soaked hands futilely trying to clamp his
wound. “Looks like he hit an artery.”

“Did you see that?” someone whispered behind

Will. “He was aiming for his leg.”

“Damn fool if he was,” another, gruffer, voice

answered. “You don’t shoot to kill, you don’t deserve
to live.”

The doctor looked up from Bailey’s leg, shaking

his head. Bailey’s wails were already losing some of
their intensity and a few minutes later, they stopped.
The crowd surged forward to congratulate the victor,
only to discover that they all, including Will, had
been too distracted and had missed the man walking
away.

Will swore under his breath and debated leaving

to look for John. Unfortunately that wasn’t possible,
as fighting free of the crowd would cause even more
of a fuss than fighting to get to the front of it had. e
couldn’t risk any extra attention being directed
his way, especially when there was any chance of
someone seeing him with John.

Humpty Dumpty stepped out into the street

in front of Will; apparently Bailey had taken long
enough to die that it was already time for the next
duel. On the other side was the Man in White and
the moment he stepped onto the street, the crowd
started murmuring. It seemed the Man in White had
some sort of special new kind of pistol that didn’t
use a revolving cylinder. Will couldn’t bring himself
to care. All he could think about was John, who had
just killed a man he’d intended to spare and was

183

now somewhere in town all alone.

In the end, the Man in White won the duel. Will

didn’t even bother waiting to see if Humpty Dumpty
survived; he was too busy taking advantage of the
shifting of the crowd to slip away.

John, as it turned out, was not hard to find as he

was the only person left in Herrod’s saloon. Even the
barkeep had abandoned his post to watch the fight;
John must have helped himself to the bottle of liquor
in front of him.

“John,” Will said softly.
John didn’t so much as flinch, just downed the

contents of his glass and muttered, “Upstairs.”

Will went up the stairs without question.
The speed with which Roberta opened the door

meant she’d probably been waiting for them. “You
have twenty minutes. There’s an intermission after
the eighth fight and men are going to want some
servicing.”

“We’ll be out by then,” Will promised. “Thank

you.”

She just nodded at them in turn, and closed the

door behind her as she left the room.

The moment they were alone, Will pulled John

into an embrace. John’s arms clutched at Will,
latching onto him like he was a lifeline. “I didn’t
mean to kill him,” John whispered. “He wasn’t
supposed to die.”

“I know,” Will murmured back. “It’s okay. You did

your best.”

They held on for several precious minutes, Will

acutely aware of every second that passed. Finally

184

John cleared his throat and stepped back, dropping
down to sit on the rumpled bed. “How’s Katie doing?
Mrs. Potter?”

“They’re fine. A little worried, maybe, but they’ll

survive. Katie actually said something.”

For some reason, John looked gutted by that

news. “I wish I’d been there to hear. What’d she
say?”

“’Don’t go.’” Will chewed on his lip, debating,

before finally admitting, “Mrs. Potter thinks we
should adopt her.”

John’s eyes shot up to meet Will’s. “Do you think

we can?”

“Probably not legally, but we could always say

that she’s Charles Merriweather’s niece. If you
want.”

John’s mouth opened immediately, his eyes

alight with eagerness, but before any words slipped
free, his eyes dulled. “Shouldn’t make any promises.
Not now.”

“Not yet, you mean,” Will said firmly.
“Sure. Not yet. That’s what I meant.”
More priceless, irretrievable seconds slipped

by. John, I want you to promise me something.”

John looked up, life returning to his

face. Anything, Will, you know that.”

“I want you to survive.” John opened his mouth,

but Will went on before he could speak. “No,
John. he men in this tournament, they all knew
what they were doing when they signed up. Whether
it was for glory or for a job with Sutton or to win
that prize money. Maybe they were too ignorant to

185

understand that they could die out there, maybe
they were too naive to understand that there were
men who were better than they were. Either way,
I don’t care. You aren’t here for glory or riches,
you’re here to save this town and I refuse to lose you
because you’re worrying more about limiting your
opponent’s injuries than you are about protecting
yourself. I want you to survive and, frankly, I don’t
care if you have to kill every one of your opponents
between now and the end of the tournament if that
means you live.”

John stared at him. “I never thought I’d hear you

say something like that.”

“Neither did I,” Will admitted, slipping down to

sit next to John. “But I’ve learned a lot on this trip
of ours, not least of which is what is most important
to me. I know you made a promise to me four years
ago. I also know you aren’t the same man as you
were then. If you kill someone now, I know that it
was because you didn’t have a choice otherwise.”

“You have a lot of faith in me.”
“No more faith than you deserve.”
Will reached over and took John’s hand in

his own. “Our time’s almost up. I’ll go first.” He
squeezed John’s hand tightly, and leaned over for a
kiss. “Remember, you will survive. I’m not going to
accept anything else.”

Without waiting for a reply, Will slipped out the

door and hurried down the stairs to the outside
exit. e needed some time alone, away from this
crowd and its murderous glee.

186

By the time he made it back to Herrod’s, there

was a gunman on the street; a tall, lanky man who
was casually chewing the end of a long piece of
straw. He looked bored.

The onlookers surrounding the street, on the other

hand, were positively alight with anticipation. ill
glanced over to see Sutton staring at his watch as if
it’d insulted his mother. “It is now three p.m.,” utton
announced. “Where is Eli?”

There was murmuring amongst the crowd before

one man raised his hand. “Last I saw, he was going
upstairs with a whore.”

Sutton’s face darkened. “How unfortunate that

a man should be more interested in what he finds
between a woman’s legs than employment with me.”

At that moment a man burst through the saloon’s

doors, his shirt unbuttoned and his pants halfway
down his legs. “Mr. Sutton, sir!” the man, presumably
Eli, shouted. “I’m so sorry, sir, I lost track of time!”

Sutton turned to the Pinkerton standing next to

him, the same one who’d been conversing with him
a couple of nights before. “Mr. Clayton, I believe you
know what to do.”

Clayton stood up, lifting his shotgun. The crowd

lurched as people started shoving and suddenly Eli
was standing all alone, surrounded by a wide barrier
of open space that moved with him as the crowd
shifted at every one of his steps.

“I don’t take kindly to people with poor priorities,”

Sutton said loudly. “Certainly not when those people
are my employees. Mr. Clayton, if you please.”

A shotgun blast roared and Eli’s bare chest

187

erupted in fresh fountains of blood. He stumbled
back several steps and when he finally fell, it was
through the saloon’s swinging doors.

Next to Will, a young boy giggled. “This is fun!

hope we can have a turneyment every year!”

Will swallowed down a throat full of bile and

took a few careful steps back, gently separating
himself from the rest of the gawking crowd, though
it put him in the street. Looking up, he found the
center window and saw Roberta looking through the
window down at him. She winked.

Jesus, Will thought. He reminded himself that

he was the one who told Roberta and Suzie to take
Sutton’s men out of competition and made himself
nod back. He felt an awful powerful craving for a
drink right then, preferably one at a different saloon.

He made himself turn his back on the idea and

stepped back up onto the boardwalk. Roberta was
here to help this town, just as John was. The fact
that she’d done exactly what he asked of her was
not something on which he could take a moral
high ground. They’d all agreed that Sutton had to
die. hat wouldn’t be possible if they all fell apart on
the very first day of their campaign to free the town.

Feeling very much like the weak link in an

otherwise unexpectedly strong chain, Will allowed
himself to be shuffled to the back of the crowd. He
wouldn’t permit himself to run away to a bottle of
liquor, but he thought he could still give himself a
break from watching these men kill themselves. ust
a short one, he told himself. Till he was more
composed.

188

Three duels later, Will was in one of the side

alleys when Jesse found him. Taking in his friend’s
slightly green features and shaking hands, Will felt
like a heel. “Nervous?” he asked. Jesse sent him a
scathing look. Stupid question,” Will cknowledged.
“Anything I can do to help?”

“I was thinking of having a drink,” Jesse admitted.

“But I was afraid it’d mess up my shooting.”

“Probably true.” Will personally had a much

better idea than a drink for calming a man down, but
he wasn’t sure how Jesse would take it and he wasn’t
entirely comfortable with making the suggestion
without checking with Roberta. Still, he couldn’t just
leave Jesse like this. “Jesse –” He looked around.
“Come with me for a bit.”

Looking curious, Jesse followed Will into the

saloon. As expected, it was nearly empty aside from
a handful of whores. One of them was Roberta,
who was heading toward the stairs with a bottle in
hand. he took one look at Jesse before locking eyes
with Will and pointing to the stairs. Will nodded
back, pushing down an unpleasant mix of relief and
guilt as he settled himself on a barstool to give her
time to leave the room before saying, “You know
how you’re waiting for sex with a woman? For it to
be special?” Jesse nodded warily. “How special does
it need to be, exactly? Does it absolutely have to be
marriage? Or would you be willing to allow a woman
to introduce you into the ways of love, as a friendly
gesture?”

“That’s awfully friendly,” Jesse said dubiously,

his eyes flickering towards a couple of whores across

189

the room who were watching with open interest.

“As it happens, I know a very nice, very friendly

woman who is upstairs right now. She’s a friend of
mine and of John’s, and I think she’d really like to
help you relax before your fight.”

Jesse somehow managed to go another shade

paler. “I don’t know, Will. What if I’m late?”

“You won’t be, I swear. If I have to, I’ll break down

that door to get you to the fight on time.”

Jesse still looked conflicted. “I did want to wait

for marriage, Will. Or at least love.”

Will gritted his teeth. “Jesse –” He took a deep

breath. “Okay. I’m not saying you have to have
sex with her. Just – go in there and talk to the
woman. he’ll help you get into the right frame of
mind for the fight.”

Jesse considered that for a moment. “Do you

think she’ll really be able to help?”

“I have the upmost faith in her.”
“Okay,” Jesse said. “Okay. I’ll meet her.” He

glanced at the whores. “Just to talk, though.”

“Great,” Will said, already hustling Jesse up the

stairs before he could change his mind. “Now the
lady in question is Roberta, who you’ve already met
once before –”

“How do you know where her room is? Did you–”
“Not the time, Jesse.” Will knocked on the

door. Just remember, be respectful and don’t
worry. oberta’ll take care of you.”

Except Roberta wasn’t the one to open the

door. John! What are you doing here?”

Jesse cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Mr. nderson,

190

we didn’t mean to interrupt your, uh, intimate time
with –”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Roberta said, appearing

at the door as well. Jesse seemed both surprised and
relieved to find her fully dressed. “He stopped by for
a chat and he was just leaving.”

Will glanced at John, who nodded slightly and

lifted up the bottle that Roberta had taken up the
stairs with her. “Just looking for a quiet place to have
a drink.”

“And I told him that the drink would have to wait

till later,” Roberta said firmly. “When I’m off the
clock. Now, Will, was there something I could help
you with?”

“Jesse here has a fight in forty minutes or so,” ill

said, since Jesse had suddenly grown very fascinated
with the tips of his boots. “Since he’s understandably
nervous, I thought you might be willing to lend a
hand. I told him you might be able to talk him into
the right frame of mind.”

Roberta’s eyebrows shot up. “Talk?”
Will nodded.
She looked Jesse up and down with new interest.

“We do want our boys to be in fighting form and I
have been told that my mouth can work magic.
Come on in, honey; let’s get you relaxed.” iving Will
and John not so much as a second glance, Roberta
chivvied Jesse into her room and shut the door.

Will and John stared at the closed door. “Really,

Will? This is the time you choose to initiate the
virgin?”

“Hey, you were the one who told me there were

191

three ways to relax a man. There’s no work around
here and whisky before a gunfight is a bad idea. hat
just leaves sex.”

“Or talking, apparently.”
“Somehow I think Roberta is going to end up

doing more than talking to him.” Will stole a quick
glance up and down the hall, then leaned forward to
press his lips against John’s. “I miss you.”

“It’s only been a few days,” John noted. When

Will raised an eyebrow, he added, “A few torturously
long days. I’m putting my foot down. nce we get this
settled, we are never spending the night in separate
beds again.”

“Amen,” Will breathed, and stole one more kiss

before heading back down the stairs to continue the
charade.

192

Chapter 14

While Will had been talking with Jesse, it appeared

that Sneaky John had lost to a gentleman named
Archibald Oneill, thereby proving that sometimes
an average man was just an average man. Will had
to acknowledge that he’d been worried about the
wrong fake John Anderson. Out of all of them, he’d
now bet that Poor John was the greatest threat.

The next fight was between the last John

Anderson and Forest Dotson. The latter was one
of the few names he recognized off of the board
that wasn’t a John; Forest had been a cowboy on
Grady’s ranch back when Will was still living in the
area. onsidering the number of times Forest came
by to threaten Will on behalf of his former boss, Will
wasn’t real surprised that he was now working for
Sutton.

When Will went outside, he found the crowd

considerably diminished from its height during the
real John’s fight. It made sense as John was the
biggest name in the tournament and the last couple
of amateur Johns hadn’t put up much of a fight. ill
decided just to be grateful that he didn’t have to hit
anyone on his way through to find a spot on the rail
as the two combatants entered the field.

An interested murmur rippled through the crowd

as everyone caught sight of Big John’s gun. Will
himself raised his eyebrows at the Walker Colt;
he hadn’t seen one in over a decade. Even then it
had been considered mostly obsolete as it still had

193

to be loaded with gunpowder and a lead ball, all
topped with candle wax to keep the entire gun from
exploding when it fired. Not to mention the damn
thing weighed four and a half pounds before it was
even loaded. It was a brave – or foolish – man who
would carry such a gun to a quickdraw fight.

More murmuring heralded the arrival of Forest,

who looked to be limping slightly. Sutton looked put
out to see his deputy looking less than his best against
a man bringing a cannon to a gunfight. Dotson!
What happened to you?”

“Must’ve stepped on a splinter,” Forest answered,

getting into place.

“A splinter,” Sutton repeated flatly.
Will, who knew from previous experience that a

splinter in the wrong place could hurt more than a
bloody gash might, felt a surprising stab of sympathy
for Forest as he found himself obviously floundering
in the face of his boss’s derision. “It’s not a big deal,
Mr. Sutton,” Forest answered after a moment. “No
reason to postpone the fight.”

“I should think not,” Sutton scoffed. “Postponing

a fight for a splinter. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Forest smiled tightly at his employer and got

ready to face off against Big John as Sutton opened
his watch. Will eyed Forest as he settled down into
the most ridiculous stance imaginable, with one foot
barely touching the ground and all of his weight
on the other foot. Will couldn’t imagine how Forest
could shoot a gun without falling over standing that
way, much less hit a target.

As Sutton started the countdown and Big John

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crouched down into a stance of his own, Will shook
his head and let his eyes wander over the crowd. hey
clearly knew the same thing he did: this fight was
over before it started.

Movement caught his eye on the far end of the

crowd, as someone stepped out of a saloon a few
doors down from Herrod’s. That someone was
small – though not as small as she had once been –
with her dark hair currently pinned up into a modest
bun and a shawl covering her dress’s extravagantly
low neckline. Suzie, because of course that’s who
the woman was, nodded slightly to Will as gunfire
filled the air.

Will turned back to see that Forest was, as

expected, lying on the ground, a massive hole in his
head. When he turned back to nod to Suzie, however,
she had disappeared.

With only one more fight left until Jesse’s, it

seemed pointless to leave the rail, though most of the
crowd seemed to disagree, judging by the number
of them who flooded into the saloons. Will didn’t
expect many of them would be coming back out; Big
John was the last well-known name to duel for the
day. The majority of the crowd likely had never even
heard of Jesse Harper, and certainly didn’t care if
Jesse lived or died.

Will hoped Roberta was showing Jesse the time of

his life. Just in case.

The second to last duel of the day resulted in

yet another death and Will was slightly appalled
to realize that he’d gone from horrified at the first

195

death of the day to barely shocked at the latest. ruth
be told, he wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling any
strong emotions at all at the moment; his whole body
felt numb and his thoughts were muted, like they’d
been covered by a thick blanket.

A moving shadow caught the corner of Will’s eye.

He turned to see John propped on the rail a couple
of feet away, far enough that it didn’t look like they
were standing there together. Just two men getting
ready to watch a fight who happened to land next to
each other.

Will quickly put his head forward, then changed

his mind and turned around entirely, so that his back
was leaning up against the rail and he was looking
the opposite direction of John. “Jesse coming down
soon?”

“I gave them a five minute warning. Roberta’ll

make sure he gets down on time.”

“Good. That’s good.” Will held his tongue as one

of Sutton’s deputies walked past and into the saloon.
Once the coast was clear, he added, “She told me
how you two met.”

“It’s a nasty tale.”
Will shrugged. “It appears there’s only so much

death and misery a man can take in a day. Right now
I feel numb.” After a moment of silence, he added,
“What do you think Jesse’s chances are?”

“Honestly? In a fair fight against most of the men

in this tournament, I doubt he’d survive the first
round. But I don’t think Roberta and Suzie will let
that happen. Especially not now; I think Roberta’s
taken a shine to him.”

196

Will’s heart clenched; apparently he wasn’t as

numb as he thought. “God,” he choked out. “Why
did we let him do this?”

“He’s a grown man,” John said, his voice more

gentle than his words. “It was his decision.”

Will nodded tightly, grateful when another man

walked past, giving him an excuse to be silent for a
few moments. Once he did speak, it was to change
the subject. “You should know that I promised
Roberta that we’d bring her and the others with us
to Boston.”

“I was planning on doing that anyway,” John said.

“And setting them up in a house once we got there.
The kinda favors they’re doing us, they deserve a
big reward.”

Before Will could answer, the saloon doors opened

and Jesse stumbled out, still tucking his shirt into
his pants. A small crowd of men followed, laughing
and cheering along the way.

Another man, wearing a deputy badge and

carrying a glass of something that might’ve been
whisky though it was a bit too reddish in color, strode
out after them. He knocked back the contents of his
glass in one gulp and let out a shout as he threw
the glass against the side of the saloon, shattering it.
“Last duel of the day, boys,” he crowed. “Time to put
this feller to bed!”

Will swallowed hard and allowed himself one

quick glance at John as he twisted around to face the
street. John didn’t seem to notice, all of his attention
on Jesse’s opponent, who had stepped down onto
the street and was now lifting one arm and then

197

the other, flapping them like a bird whose wings
were out of synch. “Damn good whisky,” the man
muttered, staring at his own arms.

Will shook his head. “Remind me never to get on

Roberta’s bad side.”

On the other side of the street, Sutton came out

with his usual entourage, Jacob at his side. udging
from Sutton’s expression, he wasn’t happy to see
one of his deputies making an ass of himself in the
middle of the street. He spoke a whispered word
to one of the Pinkertons and the man unholstered
his pistol and put a bullet into the dirt between the
inebriated man’s feet. Said man looked down at the
hole in the dirt, his expression more fascinated than
scared. “Get into position,” Sutton called. The silent
you idiot on the end was heard by everyone, except
possibly the man to whom the words were addressed.

By the time the deputy had been harried into place,

the official start time of the duel had passed. utton
looked like he was seriously contemplating having
his deputy shot in the head, but either he liked
this man more than the last one he had shot or he
considered the fact that both men were on the street
when they were supposed to be a mitigating factor,
even if one of the men hadn’t been ready to shoot.
At any rate, he declared a new, arbitrary start time at
five past the hour and everyone stood there, waiting
for the time to tick past.

While waiting, Will noticed that the crowd

around them had swelled a little. Apparently some
folks inside had noticed the delay and were curious
as to the cause. The new arrivals meant more people

198

pushing to the front, and all too soon someone
noticed the gap between Will and John and elbowed
himself forward. The man was a none too clean
smelling stranger and Will found himself just hoping
for this fight to start. Preferably before Jesse’s nerves
got the best of him; he looked ready to snap.

Finally, Sutton started the countdown. Will

focused his attention on Jesse, offering up prayers
and sending mental encouragement. Mrs. Potter
would never forgive him if Jesse died here today. ell,
Will would never forgive himself.

Sutton called time and Will tensed in preparation

for a gunshot. Except there wasn’t one.

Belatedly, Jesse reached for his gun, but he

fumbled it while trying to get out of the holster, and
his first shot went wild.

The sound of the shot seemed to wake up the

deputy, who had been staring off into the sky with a
peaceful look on his face, and he managed a much
smoother draw. Not that it mattered as his shot went
wild, too.

Jesse stood there, looking uncertain as to what to

do next. Will shouted, “Keep shooting!”

The man next to him added, “You idiot!”
Will groaned. To his relief, however, Jesse put up

his gun and actually spent a second aiming before
taking his second shot. This one hit his target, albeit
high up on the deputy’s shoulder where it didn’t
do much aside from tick the man off. You son of
a bitch!” the deputy shouted, lifting his own gun.
Once again, he missed.

The entire crowd was watching avidly now, with

199

chuckles and at times outright laughter running
through the mass of people.

“This competition is first down, not first blood,”
Sutton roared. “Keep shooting!”
Jesse immediately lifted his gun and fired, this

time not stopping until his clip was empty.

The deputy was leaking blood like a sieve now,

with holes in his gut, his non-shooting shoulder, his
leg, and his side. The man didn’t even seem to notice,
however, and just lifted his own gun as calmly as you
please. Jesse did what any reasonable man would do
under the circumstances, and dove for the ground.

The crowd erupted in laughter.
Of course, the deputy missed, and he kept on

missing since he apparently didn’t even notice that
his opponent was lying in the dirt. Even after he ran
out of bullets, he kept pulling the trigger, dropping
the hammer down on spent cartridges.

Judging from the cheers and hollering, the crowd

had never been so entertained in its life. cross the
way, Sutton looked like he was having an apoplexy,
his face nearly purple with outrage.

“You! Both of you! Come here!”
Jesse cautiously stood up. The moment he

achieved his feet, the deputy toppled over. The
crowd was howling now, some men actually doubled
over in mirth.

After a hesitation, Jesse made a couple of half-

hearted attempts to brush himself off and then stiffly
made his way over to where Sutton was sitting.
The doctor had run out the moment the deputy had
fallen, and was now frantically cutting away the

200

man’s clothing. Personally, Will was astonished the
man was still alive and he wondered if the man was
naturally resilient, or if whatever Roberta had spiked
his whisky with had given him some unexpectedly
positive side effects.

While the doctor worked on the deputy, Sutton

appeared to be yelling at Jesse, though his voice
wasn’t loud enough to carry to where the crowd was.
Jesse’s head was down low and his face was red, but
he just kept nodding, over and over again.

Finally the doctor sat back on his heels. “He’s

dead.”

Sutton stopped yelling for a moment then shoved

Jesse in the chest, nearly knocking him to the street.
“Despite my misgiving,” he shouted. “It appears we
have a winner.”

The crowd burst into cheers, flooding out into

street to wash around Jesse and to carry him into the
saloon. Jesse looked baffled and a bit nauseated, but
he accepted the congratulations given to him and
didn’t try to stop the crowd from pushing him where
they wanted him to go.

Will stayed a bit longer to see what Sutton did

next, but all the man did was stand up, put his hand
on Jacob’s shoulder in that proprietary way that
made Will want to take the hand off at the wrist,
and started toward Herrod’s. One of the Pinkertons
stayed behind to fold up the chair and stool, but
the rest continued on with Sutton. Curious, Will
watched as the remaining Pinkerton put the chair
and stool into the door right behind where Sutton
had been sitting most of the day. That door led into

201

the telegraph office, which Mrs. Potter had said had
been closed since Sutton came to town.

A quick glance at the number of people milling

in the street and wandering up and down the
boardwalk forced Will to turn back inside and follow
Sutton’s entourage into Herrod’s.

After the loss of half the gunmen in town, it

wasn’t surprising that Herrod’s was emptier than
the morning crowd. Most notable was the poker
table that had been occupied every other time Will
had been at the bar; now it sat silent and abandoned.

The surviving men made up for their diminished

numbers by being extra loud, and Will was barely
into his second drink when he started to get a
headache from all of the noise. He was considering
going to the stable to wait for Jesse when Roberta
sidled through the room in a rather focused way
that put her next to Will’s table. “I enjoyed our time
together,” she said in a sultry tone, her hand sliding
down his arm from his shoulder.

Will, who had started to wonder if he’d missed an

important cue, relaxed as he felt a square of paper
being pushed into his hand. “I enjoyed it too,” he
said, honestly enough. “We should do it again.”

“How about now?” Roberta murmured. She

immediately mouthed the word no.

Will quaffed the rest of his drink, using the motion

to cover the fact that he was running his eyes over
the rest of the crowd. Sure enough, he saw one of
Sutton’s men staring at him. “Thanks for the offer,
ma’am, but I’ve got a bit of a ride in front of me and
my head’s aching. Maybe tomorrow?”

202

“I’ll look forward to it,” Roberta said. “Don’t

worry about your friend; I’ll let him know where
you’ve gone.”

“Much obliged.” Will slipped the note-containing

hand under the table to slide the paper in his pocket
while he used his other hand to put on his hat.
Carefully not looking at anyone else in the saloon,
he walked out the swinging doors and headed for
the stable.

He didn’t get very far when he heard a voice

behind him call out, “Hey, you!”

Will thought about continuing on his way, but the

Pinkertons were armed for bear and he had a feeling
they weren’t terribly patient, so he turned around.
“Yeah?”

The Pinkerton, the same one who had been looking

at Will in the saloon, strode up. “It’s funny. or a man
who’s only in town to visit the ranch, you seem to be
spending a lot of time in town and not very much
time on the ranch.”

It occurred to Will that, despite their union-

breaking reputation, the Pinkerton Agency
advertised as private detectives. They probably
should have given that fact more thought when
they were planning. He forced a casual shrug as he
answered, “With Jesse in town, the only person at
the ranch is Mrs. Potter. The tournament sounded
more interesting than a school marm.” When the
Pinkerton didn’t lose the suspicious look, Will
added, “Though the ranch does need some work
and I’ve gotten my fill of gunfights for a while. ost
of them weren’t as exciting as I’d hoped, so I wasn’t

203

planning on coming back till the last day or two of
the tournament. Those should be the fights worth
seeing.”

The Pinkerton continued to stare menacingly, but

Will’s mental numbness served him well and he was
able to placidly stare right back. “I wouldn’t expect
your friend back tonight,” the Pinkerton finally said.
“In fact, I wouldn’t expect him back till the end of
the tournament. Sheriff Sutton doesn’t want anyone
to get cold feet.”

In his mind, Will started swearing up a blue

streak. He forced himself to offer up a bland smile,
though, when he answered, “I’ll let Mrs. Potter know
she can cut back on the cooking. Jesse eats like a
horse. Anything else I can do for you, or can I head
back to the ranch?”

“Nothing else,” the Pinkerton said. “For now.”
Will touched the brim of his hat and continued

on the way to the barn. He had to fight not to start
running, because he had a terrible suspicion that
Sutton’s men were going to be raiding the ranch.
It wasn’t likely they were coming immediately, not
while the celebrating was in full swing, but come they
would, if only in retaliation for Jesse’s performance
that day. And Will, in his infinite foolishness, just told
them that there were only two people at the ranch.
If they caught sight of Katie now, there was no way
Will would be able to prevent them from taking her.
Will saddled Clarence in record time and ended up
leaving a coin on the stable door since there was no
one around to pay.

He was halfway to the ranch when he remembered

204

the note. Pulling Clarence back down to a trot, Will
pulled the note out of his pocket and read:

Tomorrow, 9:00 a.m., the cave with the cow bones.
The handwriting was feminine, probably

Roberta’s, but the message itself was clearly from
John. Will swore under his breath. A day ago,
he would have been thrilled at the prospect of
some private time with John. Now all he could do
was imagine the Pinkertons making some sort of
connection between Will and John, putting the
ranch at even greater risk. Shoving the paper back
in his pocket, he kicked Clarence back into a gallop.

Mrs. Potter was on the porch when Will rode

up. he was ostensibly sweeping the porch clean,
but Will didn’t miss the shotgun leaning against the
railing, nor the way Mrs. Potter’s shoulders visibly
relaxed the moment he was close enough to make
out clearly.

“Where’s Katie and Anne?” he asked as he slid

off of Clarence’s back. Clarence was blowing hard,
but his ears were up and his eyes were alert so for
the moment Will just tied the reins to the porch and
made a mental promise to serve up some oats for
dinner.

“In the cellar and on the roof,” Mrs. Potter

said, busily sweeping the dust right back over the
porch. Where’s Jesse?”

“In town.” Will sighed. “I think Sutton’s getting

suspicious. One of his men told me that Jesse
was going to be staying in town for the rest of the
tournament. He also told me that he thought it was
strange that I was spending so little time at the

205

ranch.”

Mrs. Potter tensed. “Do you think they’re coming

out here?”

“Yeah, I think they will. You and Katie should

probably spend the night in the mess hall, just in
case.”

Mrs. Potter’s lips pursed, but she nodded. “I’ll let

Katie know.”

“Maybe put a blanket down there in the cellar,” ill

suggested. “Just in case.”

“Already done, Mr. Connors. Already done.”

The evening was a quiet one. Will spent much

of it in the barn, lingering over Clarence’s care
and generally tidying the place. Katie joined him
for part of it, but as the time passed and Will grew
more tense, he finally told her to go inside with Mrs.
Potter. It took a few tries but eventually she went.

Apparently, Anne and Mrs. Potter had come to

some sort of agreement because rather than join the
others for dinner, she took her plate of food and went
outside. Will couldn’t help but notice that this time
Anne took a serving of the meat.

Dinner between the rest of them was nearly silent,

though Will made an effort when he saw just how
nervous they were making Katie. The conversation
was a wounded, dying thing, however, and everyone
seemed grateful to call it an early night.

As Will settled into his empty bed, he stared up

at the ceiling and wondered what the hell they were
going to do next.

206

Chapter 15

They came in the night.
It was almost a relief for Will; he’d been tossing

and turning for hours, his imagination building
up the impending confrontation until he imagined
the entire town stampeding through the ranch,
destroying everything that he’d spent his life
building up.

By the time he reached the mess hall with loaded

shotgun in hand, Mrs. Potter was already standing
just inside the door, scooping shells into her apron
pockets. “Katie’s in the cellar,” she said grimly.
“Anne’s back on the roof. How many are coming?”

“More than one. Less than ten, I hope.” Will

looked around the kitchen for a moment before
opening the window next to the door and blowing
out the lantern. “Stay in here. With any luck, they’ll
think you’re still asleep.”

“And what exactly do you plan to do?” Mrs. otter

asked sharply.

“Talk them down, if I can.”
Will stepped outside, his heart pumping away in

his chest. The riders were closer now, and from the
sound of it, Will thought there was probably only two
or three of them. With his and Mrs. Potter’s shotgun,
not to mention the complete element of surprise of
Anne’s rifle, Will was reasonably confident that they
could kill two or three men. The problem lay in what
would happen next: if two or three of Sutton’s men
disappeared tonight, he would undoubtedly send

207

more tomorrow.

Honestly, by this point Will didn’t really care

about the fate of the ranch. Worst came to worst,
he and the womenfolk could hide out in one of the
caves while Sutton vented his anger on the buildings
and livestock. Afterward, Will would be more than
happy to offer Mrs. Potter the same deal he and John
had offered Roberta, Suzie and Anne. rs. Potter had
never been out of Dead Horse before; Will thought
she might like to see Boston.

Unfortunately, there were other

considerations. ven if Jesse and John got away,
Sutton was a cancer on the town of Dead Horse.
If Will and John and the rest of them left without
taking care of Sutton, they might as well pull the
trigger on the townsfolk themselves. For some, like
little Jacob, it would be a mercy.

In the distance, Will could see two torches appear

as the riders rounded the hill just south of the ranch.
His hand grew damp with sweat, making the handle
of the shotgun slick and a little slimy. He should
have spent more time practicing with it, he thought
as he shifted his hold on the unfamiliar, awkward
grip.

Forcing his mind off the shotgun, Will deliberately

slowed his breathing down to a normal rate and
schooled his expression into what he hoped was a
convincing mask of casual indifference. For a second
he even tried leaning back against the cabin, but he
felt ridiculous doing so and instead moved up until
he could rest his free hand on the porch railing.

By the time the riders reached the ranch house

208

Will was so tense his leg was starting to cramp, but
he managed to muster a reasonable attempt at a
smile. “Anything I can do for you boys?” he called,
his eyes running over the intruders and picking up
the Pinkerton badges on their lapels and the way
each man kept one hand on his gun. “Kinda late for
visiting.”

“There’s been some reports of outlaws in the

area,” the closer man said. He was larger and had
brown hair, while the smaller guy had blond. We’re
checking the ranches to make sure no one’s being
hassled.”

Either the man had a sense of humor or no sense

of irony at all. “Haven’t seen anyone here who
shouldn’t be here.”

“Mind if we look around?”
“Sure thing,” Will answered, his mind racing over

what they might find during that search. One too
many horses in the barn, for one thing, but maybe
Will could explain that away as a gift to Mrs. otter.
Katie’s horse would, of course, be designated as
his pack horse. Katie’s clothes would be harder to
explain, but he trusted Mrs. Potter to have hidden
those in the cellar with Katie. Even if she didn’t,
they could probably be explained as clothing left
behind by former students or clothes she kept on
hand in case her grandkids visited. opefully they
could use the same explanation for Anne’s clothes:
Will had never before been grateful for the thought
of a woman wearing trousers, but he was happy he
wouldn’t be forced to explain away some frilly satin
frock like the kind Roberta wore.

209

While Will was doing his best to cover his thoughts,

Sutton’s men had wasted no time in searching the
cabins. Will gritted his teeth as they kicked the door
in on his own cabin, but he knew there was nothing
in there for them to find. He was more anxious when
they got to Anne’s cabin, but they weren’t even there
long enough to have opened a saddlebag, much
less inspected its contents. Presumably, Anne’s
belongings were up on the roof with Anne.

Mrs. Potter’s cabin caused a bit of

trouble. Where’s the old woman?” the black-haired
Pinkerton demanded as he came storming out.

“Probably asleep in the mess hall,” Will said,

gesturing at the door behind him. He opened his
mouth to add more, but couldn’t come up with any
good reason for Mrs. Potter to be sleeping in the
mess hall rather than her cabin and closed his mouth
again with a weak smile.

The ranch door opened and Mrs. Potter stepped

out, rubbing her eyes. “What’s all this racket?” she
asked, sounding more crotchety than Will had ever
heard before. Her hair was in disarray and her dress
was twisted around her torso and if Will didn’t know
better, he’d think she’d just woken up.

The Pinkertons visibly relaxed. “Sorry, ma’am,” he

blond one said. “We’re just checking for outlaws.”

Mrs. Potter snorted. “Not likely to find any here,

son. Nothing for them to take.”

The blond Pinkerton narrowed his eyes. “Why

were you sleeping in the mess hall? If you don’t
mind my asking.”

“Waiting,” Mrs. Potter said flatly.

210

“Waiting?”
“For the raccoon that’s been getting into the

pantry. Can’t figure out how he’s getting in, so I’ve
been trying to catch him in the act.”

Will bit down hard on his inner cheek to keep

from smiling and wondered if Mrs. Potter would let
him get away with kissing her when this was all over.

“Is there anything else?” Mrs. Potter added. “Not

that many hours of sleep left in the night.”

“Actually, there is one more thing,” the black-

haired man said. “Mr. Sutton would like you to give
a cow to the town. For the celebration feast at the
end of the tournament.”

Will wondered if Sutton really had requested any

such thing or if the Pinkerton was pushing for some
sort of reaction. Five years ago when this ranch was
all Will had, he would undoubtedly have had exactly
the reaction this bastard was looking for, but all
things considered it was easy for him to answer with
casual ease: “Of course. Do you want us to pick one
for you, or will you send someone out to collect it?”

The Pinkerton’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll send

someone out to get it on Thursday.” Abruptly he
added, “I see you have a few horses in the stable.”

“They’re all mine,” Will said quickly. “Well, two

of them are mine. The third was a gift for Mrs. otter.
For doing such a good job with the school.”

“A school with no students,” the Pinkerton

pointed out.

“I understand that’s a recent change,” Will

said. e had to fight to keep from gritting his teeth.

For a few moments longer Will and the Pinkerton

211

stared at each other. Finally the Pinkerton nodded
sharply. “If you see anyone around who shouldn’t be
here, you give us a holler.”

“Will do,” Will said, gripping the shotgun with

everything he had to keep from letting himself
slump in relief.

Will and Mrs. Potter stood next to each other on

the porch, watching silently as riders rode off into
the night. “Now what?” she asked once the torches
were finally out of sight.

“I’m not sure,” Will admitted. “I think we’re

safe for tomorrow, but after that ... I’ll talk to John
about it, see what he’s heard about town.” Will
carefully put down his shotgun, flexing his aching
fingers. There’s a good chance we’re going to
have to leave the ranch,” he added quietly. “If that
happens, I don’t want you to worry. John and I aren’t
going to abandon you, or Jesse.”

Mrs. Potter planted her fists on her hips. “I’m not

worried about me, Mr. Connors, I’m worried about
the boys. Over the last few years, I’ve seen many
troubled boys turn into good men. Even the ones
who still had some growing to do learned skills that’ll
make life easier for them and anyone they end up
living with. Most of them had nowhere to go before
they ended up here and no skills to their name, and
without this ranch they would have been wandering
around, stealing for their bread and causing trouble
out of boredom. All of them probably would have
died young.”

And penniless and alone, probably, but Will saw

no benefit to saying so out loud. “There is no ranch

212

without you,” he said instead. “We can rebuild
buildings, we can buy more cattle. We can’t buy
another Mrs. Potter.”

Mrs. Potter was silent for a long moment, so long

that Will thought he’d said something wrong. Then
she ducked her head and the moonlight made her
hair look like a silver halo. “Very kind of you to say
so, Will,” she said thickly.

“It’s nothing but the truth. Now come on inside. e

might as well get some sleep while we can. The
morning is soon enough for any decisions that need
to be made.”

She sniffed quietly, twice, then lifted her head

again. “Then I wish you a very good night, Will.”

“Sleep well, Mrs. Potter.” Will glanced up at the

roof, part of him wondering if Anne was up there at
all. If she was, she was doing an astonishing job of
staying silent. “You, too, Anne,” he called, just in
case. “It’s going to be a long day, tomorrow. Time to
get some rest.”

A light rapping noise that might have been

knuckles hitting the roof was Will’s only reply. Will
sighed and turned toward his cabin and his empty
bunk. The hours between now and nine a.m. tretched
out before him like the vast plains of Kansas and he
knew there wouldn’t be any sleep for him that night.

213

Chapter 16

Breakfast the next morning was even quieter

than dinner had been the night before. Anne once
again took her plate off elsewhere, Katie was quiet
after a night in the cellar and tended towards being
clingy, and Mrs. Potter had dark circles under her
eyes that Will was sure rivaled his own. “I’m going
to be leaving for a bit this morning,” Will said, mostly
for Anne and Katie’s benefit since he and Mrs. Potter
had already discussed the meeting with John last
night. “You might want to spend the time going
through the place and deciding what you can’t live
without and what you don’t want to live without.”

“The former should be no more than we can fit in

our saddlebags, I imagine,” Mrs. Potter said. “The
rest in the cellar?”

“No,” Will said. “Too much risk of it being found

in a thorough search.” Or of it being destroyed if
the house got burnt to the ground. “There’s a cave
east of here that’s not easy to find if you don’t know
it’s there; we’ll bring what we can over there this
afternoon.”

“And how long will you be gone?”
A chance to be alone with John? Will wanted to

say ‘all day’. “Tournament starts back up at noon. ‘ll
be back here before then.”

Mrs. Potter nodded briskly and sent Katie out for

some water to do the dishes. Will was grateful as it
meant he didn’t have to fend off a tiny shadow as he
went to the cabin to get his bedroll. The last thing

214

he needed was Katie finally finding her voice to ask
Will why he needed a bedroll to visit John. Or, God
forbid, asking Mrs. Potter the same question.

Anxious and jittery with exhaustion, Will arrived

at the cave well before the appointed time. He settled
in for a long wait, but it couldn’t’ve been more than a
few minutes before he heard a horse riding in.

Will made his way to the front of the cave, where

Clarence was tied off to a convenient shrub. larence
had been nibbling on the leaves, but as Will came
out, he whickered and pulled his head. ill reached
out to pat his nose as Butterscotch came around the
corner. “John,” he breathed.

John didn’t say anything at all, just slid off of

Butterscotch’s back and strode forward to engulf Will
in a hard embrace. Will held him back just as tight
and when John leaned back for a kiss, Will gave as
good as he got there as well.

They didn’t make it back to the bedroll. They

didn’t even manage to get undressed, just rutted
hard against each other with the wall of the cave for
support, devouring each others’ months the entire
time.

Once their immediate needs were sated,

John went back to take care of Butterscotch. She
apparently liked Clarence more than either one of
them realized, because she was still standing next
to the shrub, nosing at Clarence’s neck. Clarence
huffed at her and went back to desultorily eating the
shrub.

Inside the cave, they moved the bedroll next to

the straightest wall and sat down next to each other

215

so close that they were touching along one whole
side. “How’re things in town?” Will asked quietly.

“Quiet. Lotta drinking going on last night,

especially among Sutton’s men.” John reached over
and took Will’s hand, holding it between both of his
own. “I think we were wrong about Sutton’s reasons
for throwing the tournament. This isn’t a chance for
his men to blow off steam, or to recruit new talent.
If that were the case, most of the people signed
up would be out-of-towners, with just a handful of
Sutton’s most expendable men.”

Thinking back to what he’d heard yesterday, Will

said thoughtfully, “All of Sutton’s men are signed up,
aren’t they?”

“Looks like. And I’m pretty sure that a few of the

others, maybe a couple of the John Andersons, are in
Sutton’s pocket, too.”

“He’s cleaning house,” Will realized. “Killing off

all of his men. But why?”

“I think he wants to stay,” John said. “This day and

age, with the telegraph and the trains, it’s gotta be
harder to take over a town, even a small and isolated
one. He couldn’t keep doing it forever. ere he’s got
his fancy house with the large ranch attached, he’s
got a boy no one’s going to try to take away, he’s
got enough people and businesses that the town’s
not going to be going under but not so many that he
can’t control the law. It’s the perfect town.”

Will frowned. “That doesn’t explain why he needs

to kill off his own men.”

“Because he’s practical. He’s carved out what he

wants out of the town; now he has to protect the rest

216

so that his little slice of paradise stays nice.”

“And a bunch of thugs who are used to taking

what they want, as often as they want, will get in the
way of that.”

“Exactly. He needed all of those men to take over

the town. Now, though, it’s mostly subdued –”

“And anyone still up for a fight probably signed

up for the tournament,” Will added bitterly.

“– and those men are now like locusts on the

town. If they’re not stopped, they’ll eat and drink
and whore until there’s nothing left of the town
worth having.”

“That’s why he has the Pinkertons with him,”

Will realized. “He must be planning on using them
to keep control of the place.”

“Cost more than his thugs, but are better behaved.

And since he controls the telegraph office, he has the
ability to report to their superiors. f necessary, he
can have them send a new batch to put the current
one down.”

Will shook his head. “Seems like a lot of work

when he could just’ve come into town and bought
a place.”

“Maybe he didn’t know he wanted to stay till after

he’d already taken the town over,” John suggested.
“Or maybe –” he shrugged. “When a good man
comes up against a dilemma, his first thought isn’t
to turn to crime. When a man like Sutton makes a
plan, his only thought is of crime.”

Will remembered Mrs. Potter talking about the

skills the boys had been learning at the ranch. “You
work with the skills you have.”

217

“Exactly.”
They sat there silently for a moment before John

sighed. “You know Sutton knows who you are.”

“Yeah,” Will said wearily. “They raided the

ranch last night.” John went rigid, so Will quickly
added, It’s okay, no one was hurt. Anne and
Katie were both hidden away and Mrs. Potter and
I managed to talk Sutton’s men into leaving. But
they are coming back.” Will knocked his head back
against the wall of the cave. “I just wish I knew
where I’d slipped up. All that effort trying to keep
my head down and Sutton saw right through me.”

“It’s the town.”
Will sat up. “What?”
John shrugged, a small smile on his face. “You

have no idea, do you? Will, you’re Dead Horse’s
favorite son, the small-time rancher who went on to
be a big-time author. Everyone in this town knows
who you are. Everyone in town has all of your books.
They’re proud of you, Will. I doubt you’d been in
town ten minutes before someone with the best of
intentions told Sutton who you were. I’ve had at
least dozen different people come up to tell me that
the man who wrote the John Anderson novels came
from this town. Most of them asked if you’d ever
interviewed me.”

Will considered that. “Well, fuck.”
“Who would’ve guessed that out of the two of us,

it’d be your notoriety that would cause us problems?”

Will glared at John, who wasn’t doing much to

hide his mirth. “You think this is funny?”

“I think we need to take our humor where we

218

can get it during times like these.” John sobered.
“I know it’s harder for you. You’ve never been in a
situation like this before.”

Will didn’t say so out loud, but even more painful

than being in this situation was the knowledge that
John had experienced such things so many times
that he could find levity in them when Will could
only see death. “So now what do we do? Can you
even win this tournament? Would it be enough?”

John was already shaking his head. “It doesn’t

matter if I win; everyone I’m fighting is just cannon
fodder. The real worry is the Pinkertons.”

“Four men?” Will asked incredulously.
“Six; he keeps a couple more at the ranch. But

Roberta’s seen him going into the telegraph office
several times now.”

Will groaned, feeling painfully weary. “He called

for reinforcements.”

“I suspect so.”
“That’s it, then? He’s beaten us?”
“It goes against everything in my nature to say

this,” John said with a sigh. “But I think it’s time to
call in the law.”

“Break into the telegraph office?” Will guessed. t

probably wouldn’t be too difficult, though Sutton
would be a fool if he didn’t have a man watching it...

John was already shaking his head. “Don’t want

to risk tipping our hand. If Sutton knows they’re
coming, who knows what he might do.”

“Then I’ll ride to River Bend. I head out now, I

can get there before dark.”

John shook his head again. “You should wait for

219

tomorrow. You leave now, you won’t be able to make
it back before nightfall. If Sutton’s men hit the ranch
early, there won’t be anything to stop them.”

“There’ll be Anne,” Will said. “And Mrs. Potter.”
“We can’t risk them finding out about Anne

too early and Mrs. Potter won’t be able to fight off
Sutton’s men by herself.”

“And you think I can?”
“They’re not going to attack while you’re

there,” ohn said. “No one cares if a few ranchers die
out in the middle of nowhere. A nationally famous
author, though – if you get killed, people are going to
want to know what happened. Sutton can’t risk that
kind of scrutiny.”

“Sometimes I forget,” Will admitted. “No one in

Boston seems to care who I am.”

“Must be those high-falutin’ literary circles you

hang around in. Wouldn’t know a good adventure if
one bit them on the ass.”

Will shook his head, smiling despite himself. nder

the circumstances, however, he couldn’t maintain
the expression. “Can we meet tomorrow?”

John sobered quickly. “Can’t take the

risk. houldn’t have met today, except that Sutton
drove you out yesterday before we could compare
notes.”

Will expected John to follow that statement up

with a note of the time; they’d been sitting there
talking long enough for the shadows in the cave to
have shifted with the rising sun. John stayed silent,
though, and Will smiled sadly. “Talk to me.”

“About what?”

220

“Anything,” Will said, leaning over to rest his

head on John’s shoulder. As John shrugged and
launched into an enthusiastic monologue about the
Man in White’s amazing self-cocking pistol and
the boxy slide that covered the barrel and somehow
made the thing work, Will closed his eyes. Silently
he breathed in John’s smell, savoring scents he’d
never thought to focus on before. Eyes still shut, he
let his ears slowly sharpen, paying attention to the
timber of John’s voice, the way it moved faster when
he was talking about new-fangled inventions. He let
his free hand drift out till it was resting on John’s
knee, and he soaked in that tiny patch of warmth
as he memorized John’s smells and sounds. Just in
case.

221

Chapter 17

Will lingered in the cave for a long stretch

after John left, refusing to acknowledge that he
was grieving but still unable to bear the thought
of interacting with other people. By the time he
made his way back to the ranch house, it was after
lunchtime.

As with most afternoons, Mrs. Potter had Katie

sitting down at the table, an open reading primer
sitting in front of her. This time it was a newer book,
one of the primers Mrs. Potter had sent away for
when a younger-than-planned-for boy had been
dropped off at the ranch by a cavalry man who
claimed the boy was the only survivor of an Indian
attack. Apparently Mrs. Potter wasn’t convinced by
the argument, but she’d decided and Will agreed
that it was better to take in a boy with living parents
than to leave him with parents who so clearly didn’t
want him.

Teaching a child to read was always a difficult

task. When the child in question refused to speak, it
made the task next to impossible. Frankly, Will was
glad Mrs. Potter had taken over the job; she wasn’t
as inclined to let Katie out early.

Today, however, he found himself increasingly

antsy as he sat at the table; the same table that he
himself had made when he and Molly had first
moved out west. The same table where he had taught
Tommy to read. The same table where he and John
had spent long evenings together, quietly working

222

on their separate tasks.

“Why don’t we head out to the barn?” Will

suggested abruptly. “You can practice reading to the
horses.”

Katie looked to Mrs. Potter, who crossed her arms

and looked stern. “You still have a half an hour left
to go, young lady. Don’t you try to convince Mr.
Connors into letting you quit early.”

With an expression of angelic innocence and

the utmost solemnity, Katie shook her head. Will
covered his twitching lips with his hand, already
feeling immensely better.

Halfway to the barn, Will put a gentle hand on

Katie’s shoulder, stopping her skipping. “Just want
to take a look at your burn.”

She sighed audibly, but didn’t fight as Will tilted

her chin to the side so that the sunlight could fall
over her wound. With everything else going on, he
hadn’t been keeping as close an eye on the burn
as he had before, but it was healing nicely without
any sign of infection. She’d have a nasty scar, but
much of it would be hidden by her hair, and Will was
pretty sure that a carefully positioned bonnet could
hide what the hair couldn’t. “How does it feel?” Will
asked. “Does it hurt at all?”

Just like every other time he’d asked that

question, Katie shook her head. Will sighed and
patted her shoulder to get her walking again. The
lack of pain was reassuring, but also a little worrying.
A tiny burn from touching a hot stove was painful for
days. How could a burn that was so much worse be
entirely painless?

223

Lacking an answer, Will forced himself to let the

question go. The one that replaced it wasn’t any
more comforting, however. How would Katie ever
find a husband with that disfigurement? Not that
he thought there would be a lack of suitors; his
and John’s money would see to that. But Will had
married for love, and the thought of Katie having to
settle for less was painful.

Clearly this was a day for dark thoughts, Will

thought as he and Katie entered the barn. Not
surprising, with John likely facing down a barrel of
a gun at that moment, but also not very helpful, so
Will did his best to clear his mind while he hauled
over a bale of hay. The physical effort helped; hay
seemed to have gotten a lot heavier in the four years
since he’d left the ranch.

“Okay,” he said, settling down on the bale, being

sure to leave enough room for Katie. “Since it’s just
the two of us, I thought we could try reading out
loud.”

Katie immediately held out the book.
“Actually, I was thinking you could read out loud

to me. And Pony.”

Katie’s horse, hearing the name they’d been

using while waiting for her to pick a real name,
put his nose over the door and grumbled at them.
Will wasn’t sure they were going to have much luck
with renaming the beast; he seemed like the type to
emulate Butterscotch on such matters.

Katie, in a stubbornness league all of her own,

was scowling furiously. Recognizing a tantrum in
the making, Will amended, “Or maybe I could read

224

to the both of you and you can help me. How does
that sound?”

Demonstrating a far greater understanding of

compromise than Tommy had ever possessed, Katie
nodded and for the next half hour they read out loud
together. By the time they were done, Will was quite
impressed: though Katie’s voice was so soft that he
had to strain to hear her, she never stumbled over a
single word, not even when he pointed to the longer
words. Tommy had taken months to get this far, and
he’d had the advantage of being able to sound out
the words he didn’t know. Then again, Tommy had
been much younger when they’d first started him on
reading.

When they finished the primer, Will set it aside

with a sigh. “You were there when I first introduced
everyone to John, right?”

Katie nodded cautiously.
“Do you remember what I called him?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. She wouldn’t

meet his eyes, thought, which Will found suspicious.
“Charles,” he said. “Merriweather.”

Katie opened her mouth, then snuck a glance at

him and closed it again. Will narrowed his eyes. The
third.”

Katie giggled.
Will shook his head, but didn’t bother trying to

stop his lips from curving into a smile. He put his
hand on the crown of her head and shook it very
gently. “You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”

Katie’s smile slipped away and she shook her

head, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

225

Will sighed and let his hand slide down from her

head to rest on the point of her shoulder. Gently he
tugged until she curled in at his side. “You don’t like
anyone knowing how smart you are,” he said. t was
obviously true, but Katie’s head didn’t move. n fact,
her whole body was stiff.

As a writer, Will had been fascinated when

he heard that the latest census would include
literacy information, and he’d eagerly awaited the
publishing of the results. Rather surprisingly, in his
eyes, the highest literacy rates were in the middle of
the country, in the north. Less surprisingly was that
the lowest literacy rates were in the south, stretching
all the way from the Atlantic Ocean to the border of
California. He’d seen the evidence of that when he’d
first moved out west; nearly everyone in Philadelphia
could read, while a full quarter of the population of
Dead Horse had been illiterate. Judging from the
census data, the situation was even worse in the
more rural areas.

That might help to solve the question of where

Katie had come from. Certainly it wasn’t Kansas,
where they’d found her. Even if the wagon hadn’t
been a clear sign that they were heading west,
Kansas had the third highest literacy rate in the
country. She didn’t sound like she was from the
South, though; there was a very distinctive drawl to
a Southern accent and, besides, there were Western
trails that went through the southern states. oming
all the way north to Kansas before heading west
would have lengthened their trip considerably.

Taking the literacy rates of the north east into

226

account, and dismissing Rhode Island and Delaware
as being less likely for their tiny size, Will guessed:
“You’re from Maryland, aren’t you?”

Katie’s head snapped up and she stared at him in

open astonishment.

He grinned down at her, feeling ridiculously

pleased. “I’m from just across the border, in
Philadelphia. I had an aunt in Baltimore and we
visited her a couple of times. I always thought
Maryland was a very pretty state.”

As he talked Katie’s tension lessened until she

was leaning comfortably against his side. Will
rubbed her shoulder. “Do you have any relatives in
Maryland?”

After another damning hesitation, Katie shook

he head again. Will considered how thin she’d been
when they’d first found her and the way she seemed
to think that being intelligent was something
shameful. “We won’t give you to your relatives, not if
you don’t want us to.”

Katie slumped in obvious relief.
“But we do need to know who they are,” Will

added. “Just in case something happens to us.”

Like John getting shot. Or Will finding out the

hard way that Sutton had men stationed between
Dead Horse and River Bend to ensure that no one
got through. John had managed to take the overland
route between the two towns, but he was a much
better rider than Will and Butterscotch, when she
felt like behaving, was a much better horse than
Clarence. Will might be able to stay off of the road
in some places, but there was no way he’d be able

227

to avoid it entirely, especially not when it came to
the tiny ridge of mountains that divided their two
valleys.

All of which he’d worry about tomorrow. For now,

he focused his attention on Katie, who’d gone stiff
again. But no matter how much he wheedled, or
demanded, or pleaded, she refused to give him any
information about her other relations. By the time he
gave up, Will was starting to wonder if there wasn’t
more to this than just the relatives’ resumed poverty.
Surely if her relatives were good people she’d at
least want to visit.

Thus it was a worried Will and a watery-eyed

little girl that made their way back to the mess hall,
only to find that the cabin was piled high with what
appeared to be everything of value on the entire
ranch. “Mrs. Potter?” Will asked warily. “What’s
going on?”

“Packing,” she said briskly as she folded a

blanket. “Before those men come back.”

Will opened his mouth, then closed it again. hen

he asked hesitantly, “Don’t you think this is a bit
much?”

She propped her fists on her hips, looking offended.

“Of course not. There’s not much we can do to protect
the buildings, but at least we can take everything we
can carry and hide it in the caves. t’ll be easier to
rebuild if we aren’t starting entirely from scratch.”

Will could hardly argue with that logic. Even if

he could, however, he wouldn’t: work was infinitely
preferable to waiting. “I’ll go saddle up the horses if
you want to get the first load ready to go.”

228

For most of the trips Will and Anne did the hauling,

but later on in the afternoon Mrs. Potter said that she
needed to get out of the cabin and declared that she
was going to take the next trip.

Will didn’t think anything of it until they were

halfway to the cave and Mrs. Potter cleared her
throat. Will stiffened, some instinct inside him telling
him that he wasn’t going to like what she said next.

“Mr. Connors – Will. I have a question, about you

and Mr. Anderson.”

“Yes?” Will asked warily.
“You two are ... intimate, aren’t you? Physically

intimate?”

Will froze for several long moments until Clarence

abruptly danced a step to the side. Will didn’t know
why until he looked down to see that his hands were
clenched into fists, pulling reins back just a little too
tight. With an effort, he relaxed his fingers. “Why do
you say that?” he asked, with what he considered an
admirable level of calm.

“I grew up out west,” Mrs. Potter said, instead

of answering the question, and that just made Will
even more wary. “My daddy’s ranch was about a
hundred miles west of here, near the great canyon.”

“I didn’t know that,” Will said cautiously.
“Lived there till I was sixteen,” Mrs. Potter

said. That’s when Randolph came by selling kitchen
wares out of the back of his wagon. He was handsome
and charming and well-traveled and I loved him the
moment I first saw him.”

Will tried to picture old Mr. Potter as a handsome

229

and charming young man. It wasn’t easy, as the
gentleman in question had been corpulent and prone
to gout and he’d died soon after Will and Molly had
first moved out west. “I imagine your father wasn’t
too happy about that,” he finally said.

“I was the sixth of eight girls,” Mrs. Potter said

wryly. “Daddy practically begged Randolph to take
me off his hands. Even gave him some money to
open the store in Dead Horse. But that’s beside the
point.”

Will, who’d been hoping she’d forgotten her

point, winced.

“Daddy’s ranch was one of the largest in the area

and we had nearly two dozen ranch hands. We were
too far from town to ride in every weekend, so once
or twice a month the hands would put together a
dance as a way to pass the time. Daddy liked the
idea of the dances – he said it was good clean fun,
better than drinking or gambling – and he let all us
girls join in. Still, there wasn’t near enough of us for
all of the men, so the cowboys would draw lots to see
who would wear the molly-strips.”

“The molly-strips?”
“It’s a strip of cloth that is tied around a man’s

upper arm. While he’s wearing it, he plays the
woman’s part in the dance.”

Will blinked. He’d heard about such practices,

but had never actually seen a dance where men
danced with men. “And no one ever thought the less
of them?”

“Of course not,” Mrs. Potter said. “Everyone wore

the strip at some point in time or another.”

230

“Ah,” Will said, now completely at a loss as to

what this had to do with him and John.

“But there were a couple of hands who always

wore the strip. At first they’d trade for it, but
eventually the number of lots were reduced and
those cowboys were just given a strip at the start.”

“Ah,” Will said again, this time in comprehension.

“And did anyone have a problem with those two
hands?”

“Some did,” Mrs. Potter admitted. “And Daddy

never invited them into the house for dinner, like he
did some of the other ranch hands. But whenever
my sisters or I had to go into town, those were the
men he sent with us. I got to know them fairly well,
especially Mr. Travis. He was always sweet to me. ut
never sweet on me, not even when I was fifteen and
practically throwing myself at him.”

Will considered that, then sighed. “I don’t

think I’m like your Mr. Travis. I loved Molly with
everything in me. I still do, honestly; I can’t imagine
being able to love another woman.”

“But other men?” Mrs. Potter asked delicately.
Will shook his head. “It’s not the same. I could be

intimate with another woman, but John’s the only
man who I can imagine being that way with. f I
hadn’t been so broken up over Molly’s death, I don’t
know that I could have managed it with John. ‘m
still not entirely sure how it happened. So many of
those years after Molly died were such a blur.”

“I remember,” Mrs. Potter said. “For a while there,

we all weren’t sure you were going to survive.”

“I probably wouldn’t have,” Will admitted. “By

231

the time John showed up, I’d stopped caring about
everything but Tommy, and even he was starting to
slip away. Too many miles between us, too many
years since I’d last seen him in person. I’d just about
managed to convince myself that Tommy wouldn’t
even notice if I followed Molly to the great beyond.”

“Will,” Mrs. Potter said chidingly.
“I wasn’t in my right mind. Made it easier for me

to do things I never would have considered before.”

“And now?”
“Now I’m grateful,” Will said, feeling surprisingly

shy, considering the conversation they’d had so far.

“I never would have let John close if I’d been in

my right mind and the thought of missing what I
have now is painful.”

Mrs. Potter stared at him for a few seconds, then

nodded sharply. “I thought it might be something
like that. I am glad you’re happy, Will. You deserve
some happiness in your life.”

Will smiled, feeling his face heat. “Thanks,

Mrs. otter. That means a lot.”

“I’m sure it’ll mean more if we all survive

the week,” she added. “Come on, we’re wasting
daylight.”

With that she kicked Katie’s packhorse into a

canter. Will shook his head fondly, and followed.

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Chapter 18

No one got much sleep that night, but at least

there were no visits from Sutton’s men. The moment
the sky began to lighten, Will gave up on his fruitless
attempts to sleep and went out to the barn.

He was just leading Clarence out into the yard

when Mrs. Potter emerged from the mess hall, a
cloth bundle in her hand. “Food for your trip.”

Will felt a warm rush in his chest. “You didn’t

have to do that.”

“You can’t ride all day without a bite to eat,” she

said pragmatically. “Besides, I couldn’t sleep. A
certain devil child kept me awake all night.”

Will winced. “She still up?”
“Finally dropped off an hour ago.” She considered

him. “How dangerous is this trip, Will?”

“I don’t know,” Will admitted. “How many

townsfolk have made it to River Bend and back since
Sutton got here?”

“Other than the supply deliveries? None.”
Damn. There went his hope that Sutton didn’t

have men watching the road. Nothing to be done for
it now, however, so Will just mounted his horse and
then leaned down to accept the bundle from Mrs.
Potter. “Listen, Mrs. Potter – if anything happens
to John and I – well, we’ve both left our shares of
the ranch to you. Our lawyer in Boston is Daniel
Abernathy; he’ll be able to get everything you need
to transfer the ranch to your name.”

She stared at him. “Oh, Mr. Connors –”

233

“Just promise me you’ll take care of Katie. Her

whole family died not too long ago. If John and I
both die, too, she’ll be in bad shape.”

“Of course I’ll take care of her, but nothing’s going

to happen to you.” From her tone, an unspoken I
forbid it was attached at the end.

Despite everything, Will smiled. “Yes ma’am.” e

dipped his hat to her and kicked Clarence into a
gallop. He didn’t look back.

For the first couple of hours Will rode hard, only

stopping once to water Clarence. As he made his way
into the Rockies, however, the road grew increasingly
steep and he had to slow down. larence was doing
far better than Brownie had the last time Will had
tried to make this trip, but it would be foolish to risk
anything faster than a trot on these mountain trails.

Two-thirds of the way to River Bend, the trail

reached its highest point at a narrow pass between
two towering peaks. Will had been thinking about
that pass ever since he’d set out: if anyone was going
to stage an ambush, that would be the most likely
point. The closer he got to the pass, the more certain
he was that there would be someone waiting for him.

As the trail narrowed, Will pulled Clarence back

to a walk, being careful to avoid loose rock and the
rare bits of dead leaves. Eventually, he slid out of the
saddle and led Clarence forward on foot. opefully all
of this caution was for naught; with any luck the pass
would be completely free of any of Sutton’s men and
all of this sneaking about would prove to be –

Damn, Will thought as he rounded the last curve

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before the pass and saw the campfire. Two men were
sitting next to it, drinking coffee from mugs and
playing cards, with rifles standing up next to them
within easy arm’s reach.

Will pulled his head back, putting out a completely

unnecessary hand to stop Clarence, who’d already
started nosing around the sagebrush and was
nibbling at the silvery leaves. Will smiled despite
himself and patted Clarence on the nose before
carefully sliding his rifle out of his saddlebags.

The previous evening, when everyone was both

anxious and bored, Anne had picked up her rifle, a
bag of bullets, and a deck of cards and wandered
outside. Naturally, everyone else had followed and
for the hour after that Anne had entertained them
all with trick shots. Will couldn’t decide which
impressed him more: when she’d shot all four
corners off of a card from a hundred paces, or when
he threw a small handful of rocks in the air and she
shot them all before they could hit the ground. ither
way, he’d been as entertained as Katie and Mrs.
Potter and he’d been much more confident of Anne’s
ability to play her part on Friday.

Will wasn’t as good with a rifle as Anne, but he’d

always had good eyesight and a steady hand. At
Molly’s insistence, he’d participated in a handful
of shooting competitions and had even won one of
them, when the man expected to win had been too
sick to participate.

Trying to focus his mind on those instances and

not on the fact that it’d been nearly four years since
he’d last fired a rifle, Will balanced the barrel of his

235

rifle onto a rock and took careful aim at the closest
man’s leg. He focused on his senses and the beating
of his heart, hearing each breath drawn in as a high
pitched whine and let out again in a husky rasp. His
heart pumped steadily at the edge of his awareness,
the time between beats seeming to drag out as he
focused on them. Beat, pause, beat, pause, beat –

– he fired the rifle –
–beat. The man was now clutching his leg and

screaming and Will shifted his rifle to the other man,
who had snatched up his own gun and was ducked
down behind a rock.

Will tried to aim again, but it was hard to hear his

heart beating over the sound of the man screaming.
His rifle was slick with sweat now, contrasting with
the papery dryness of this throat, and he had to keep
blinking to wash away drops of stinging salt that
kept falling into his eyes.

A gunshot echoed through the canyon and a chip

of rock suddenly flew off of the small cliff next to
him. A second later he felt something hot and wet
trickling down the edge of his jaw.

Will swore and jerked back to the full shelter of

the canyon wall. “Damn it,” he swore, swiping at the
blood on his face with the cuff of his jacket. Damn
it, damn it, damn it.”

He took a deep breath and peeked out from

behind the cliff again. The man he’d shot in the leg
was gone, though from the trail of blood Will guessed
that he’d just moved around to behind the rocks that
he and his friend had been sitting on. he man who’d
shot at Will was nowhere in sight.

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Will cursed again and looked around for

inspiration. Clarence was gone and the distance to
the next potential hiding place down the road was
too far away for Will to get there before getting shot
in the back. That left just one option, one that he’d
really hoped to be able to avoid.

Between the cliff Will was currently hiding behind

and the shooters was a boulder that Tommy had
always loved playing around back when Will and
Molly would take him to River Bend. The boulder
was big enough to be used as effective cover and it
had a full view of the entire mountain pass, unlike
Will’s present location, which only allowed him to
see half of the pass, the half that didn’t currently
contain any gunmen.

The downside was that the boulder was a good

thirty feet away from where he stood, and there was
no cover between him and it. If both of his legs were
strong, the distance wouldn’t be too much to worry
about, but with his bad leg he wasn’t at all confident
he could manage a run, even a run so short as thirty
feet.

On the other hand, if he got shot going toward

the boulder, at least he could die knowing that he’d
gone down fighting.

Closing his eyes, Will took a deep breath and let

it out as slowly as possible. Then he threw himself
around the cliff and started running.

He managed four steps before his bad leg gave

out and he fell to the ground. At the same moment
the high pitched whine of a bullet flew right above
his head and Will stayed on the ground, using his

237

elbows and the knee of his good leg to crawl the
remaining distance to the boulder. He heard a couple
more bullets whistling past, but they were all aimed
too high to hit him and he decided the best way to
increase his chances was to stay on the ground as he
peeked around the side of the boulder, looking for
the gunmen.

There, a flash of movement over by the wall of

the cliff. It was only visible for a second, but it gave
Will something to aim for. Still on the ground, he
used one arm to steady the rifle and used the other
to aim the rifle just over the spot where he’d seen the
movement.

Several long seconds passed before a head

cautiously lifted itself up directly in the line of sight
of Will’s rifle. He didn’t give himself time to think
about what he was doing, just pulled the trigger and
watched the man’s head snap back, a round hole in
the middle of this forehead.

For over a minute Will stayed there behind the

boulder, waiting for some kind of response. When
none came, he forced himself to his feet with a grunt
and leaned against the back of the boulder. nother
interminable minute later, he sighed and limped
forward, keeping his rifle raised as he approached
the gunmen’s hiding place.

Only to find one man dead and the other still

bleeding heavily from the wound in his leg. Will
swallowed hard, but kept his rifle steady. “Throw
away the gun.”

The wounded man threw his pistol away without

hesitation.

238

Will swallowed again, tasting sour bile in the back

of his throat. Out of the corner of his eye, he could
see the growing puddle of blood under the dead man
and the coppery scent of it filled the air.

“You going to shoot me?” the wounded man

asked.

He should. It certainly would be the smart thing

to do, eliminating any potential risk. At the same
time, the man was wounded and unarmed. What
harm could he possibly cause?

Will lowered his rifle with a sigh. “You try to shoot

me in the back, I’ll put a bullet in your head.”

The man nodded quickly, making no movement

at all toward his gun.

Wearily, Will walked away, hoping that Clarence

hadn’t run too far off. As he walked, he had to keep
swallowing the gorge that tried to rise up in his
throat. The face of the man he’d killed was seared
onto the backs of his eyelids and every time he
blinked he was reminded of the fact that he’d killed
a man.

Thankfully, Clarence had not only not run too

far away, but he was apparently attached enough
to Will that he came back. Will found him standing
just around the bend in the road, in almost the exact
same spot Will had been hiding before he’d tried for
the boulder.

Praising the animal with an enthusiasm he didn’t

really feel, Will mounted the horse and rode hard for
River Bend. He’d lost enough time.

The sun was already starting to set as Will opened

239

the southwest gate. He was almost as exhausted
as his horse, whose head was down and feet were
heavy. “Just a couple more miles,” he murmured
to Clarence, who either understood the words or
recognized the area, because his head lifted a bit
and his ears perked up.

By the time they reached the barn, Will was ready

to sleep for a year and he was desperately grateful
that he had one more day before he was expected
back in town. He’d sleep in late in the morning,
then practice with his shotgun for a bit, though he
still hoped he wouldn’t need to use it. utton tended
to sit pretty close to the railing when watching the
fights, so even if Anne was forced to shoot from the
top of one of the opposite buildings, there was a
reasonable chance her angle would be good enough
to see his head under the overhang that shielded the
boardwalk from the sun. It would be even better if
she shot from Roberta’s room; Sutton would have to
be sitting back against the wall to avoid a shot from
there.

“Will!”
Will twisted in his saddle, his hand reaching for

his rifle until he registered the voice. “Jesse?”

Jesse came running up, so fast that he nearly

stumbled over his own feet as he stopped. “Will, we
have a problem.”

240

Chapter 19

“– don’t know what the man said, but after he

talked to Sutton, Sutton came out and announced
that the tournament is going to end tomorrow, with
the last three fights all in a row,” Jesse finished as he
took a long draw of Mrs. Potter’s special coffee.

Will slumped back in his seat. “This is my fault. f

I had just killed that bastard at the pass –”

“Then we’d have to worry an extra day,” Mrs. otter

said pragmatically. “Maybe this is for the best.”

Will just shook his head and turned to

Jesse. There’s no way Sutton’s leaving these last
few fights up to chance. Who’s left to fight?”

Jesse mustered a wry grin. “Three John Andersons

and me. The little guy, the kid, and John, of course.”

“What about the Man in White?” Will asked. And

that fancy new pistol of his?”

“He fought the really big John. Drew a little faster,

too, but the big guy didn’t even seem to notice when
he got shot and before the he could shoot again, big
John shot him dead.”

“You shouldn’t go back,” Mrs. Potter said. “I know

those ... lady-friends of John’s have been helping
you, but there’s only so much they can do.”

Jesse looked affronted. “I’m not a terrible shot,

you know.”

“She’s right,” Will said. “What if they put you

against the midget? There’s no way you can aim
before he shoots you.”

“You don’t know that! None of you know what I

241

can do! None of you have been there the last couple
of days.” He took a deep breath. “Besides, even if I
wanted to back out now, I couldn’t. If I did, Sutton
would know we were up to something.”

Will opened his mouth to protest, and then shut it

again. “You have a point.”

“Sutton already knows we’re up to something,” rs.

Potter protested. “It’s not worth risking Jesse’s life to
protect that.”

“It’s my life,” Jesse said, standing up. “That

makes it my decision. I’m going back.”

“At least wait for dinner,” Mrs. Potter said. “Just

in case.”

“I can’t,” Jesse answered, sounding

regretful. Roberta’s covering for me, and, well –
there’s only so long she can pretend I’m in her
room.”

Mrs. Potter’s lips tightened and she looked

away. ill felt his own lips twitching and tried to stop
them. “Be safe,” he said earnestly. “We’ll be there in
the morning.” Actually, they’d be there well before
morning. Both he and Anne had to find a place to
hide before the sun came up.

Jesse nodded solemnly and moved to the

door. ust before he opened it, Will abruptly added,
“Tell John –” He glanced over at Anne and Mrs.
Potter, who were staring at him. Jesse was staring,
too. ill sighed. “Tell him I’ll see him soon.” And if he
dies in the meantime, Will added to himself, tell him
I’ll kill him.

There was much work to be done after Jesse

left. rs. Potter hurried to put together a filling

242

dinner and portable food for the next day while Will
and Anne loaded the equipment they’d need next
to the saddle hooks for Anne and Katie’s horses.
Despite looking positively exhausted, Clarence
whinnied at them and Will took a second to pat him
on the nose.  Don’t worry, you’ll be coming later,”
he murmured.  Mrs. Potter and Katie are riding in
tomorrow.”  hat had been a compromise: Mrs. Potter
had wanted to stay and keep guard over the ranch
and Will had wanted her to hide in the cave with
Katie and the ranch’s portable belongings.

Katie, who had been in the cellar for Jesse’s visit

and who was now supposed to be helping Mrs. otter
in the kitchen, was making a right nuisance of
herself instead, staying so close to Will’s side that
he’d tripped over her more than once. After nearly
breaking his ankle tripping over her yet again, he
turned on her with the intention of shouting. Her
wide, terrified eyes stopped him cold. “Oh, sweetie,”
he said quietly. He sighed and limped over to a hay
bale, sitting down and holding open his arms. Katie
wasted not a second scrambling onto his lap and
curling up against his chest. Will wrapped his arms
around her. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “I’m not
going to let anything bad happen to you.”

Katie just huddled closer, clearly not convinced.

Will tried to sleep that night, but even as tired

as he was from previous sleepless nights and from
his ride, he couldn’t keep his eyes shut for more
than a minute or two. When Mrs. Potter knocked on
his door at three in the morning, Will was already

243

dressed and ready. By three-thirty, he and Anne
were riding to town, sticking to a trot in deference to
Katie’s horse, which really wasn’t big enough to seat
a full-grown man.

They arrived in town a little after four and Anne

slipped off with her rifle and her bag of bullets,
disappearing into the shadows. Will took both horses
to the stable, stripped off their gear and hid it behind
a pile of hay in the barn, and let the horses join the
herd in the paddock.

The sky was just barely hinting at the coming dawn

as Will made his way over to the telegraph office. As
he expected, the door was locked. Will considered
breaking one of the panes in the door but he was
afraid that would be too visible from the boardwalk,
so he snuck around the back of the building and tried
the door there. He was fully prepared to break the
lock if necessary, but fortunately the handle opened
without resistance and he slipped inside.

Telegraph offices weren’t terribly common in

towns as small as Dead Horse; if it weren’t for the
brief silver rush that had driven the town to build
four saloons, there probably wouldn’t have been a
telegraph office at all. As it was, the office was tiny,
little more than six feet across and not quite ten feet
back. The room was divided into two by a counter
behind which the telegraph operator had stood. ack
when Will was living in the town, the telegraph itself
had been at the very back of the shop, where only the
operator could touch it. Now, however, the telegraph
was sitting on the front counter, which explained
the open back door. If no one ever used it, they’d

244

probably forgotten it wasn’t locked.

Sliding down behind the counter, Will tucked

himself in the corner. Fortunately, the counter itself
was solid, but if anyone looked over the counter edge
he’d be immediately visible. They were all gambling
on Sutton not having a need to send a telegram
before the day’s duels.

With his life literally on the line, Will had thought

that the next few hours would drag on endlessly. The
long day before and the sleepless night caught up
with him, however, and he’d barely slid to the floor
before he was asleep.

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Chapter 20

He woke to the sounds of yelling. Startling upright,

he managed to jab himself under his own chin with
his shotgun before he realized where he was and
why he was so uncomfortable. And uncomfortable
he was: his back and neck both ached and his bad
leg was teetering on the verge of seizing. If his life
depended on him moving quickly in the next few
hours, he might as well just give up now.

Not that he would give up, of course, because it

wasn’t just his life on the line. That thought in the
front of his head, Will eased himself upright, putting
most of his weight on his good leg as he peered over
the top of the counter through the windows.

The first thing he saw was Sutton, sitting on

his chair with Jacob Landon at his side and six
hulking men surrounding him. Apparently, Sutton
wasn’t taking any chances and had pulled all of his
Pinkertons around him. In some respects that was a
good thing: if they managed survive this fight, Sutton
would be completely finished. On the downside,
they were even more hopelessly outnumbered than
they had anticipated.

He forced that thought aside. Now wasn’t the

time for doubts, not if he had any hope of getting out
of this situation alive.

Looking beyond the Pinkertons, he saw that the

crowd on the opposite side of the street was cheering,
though not as loudly as he would’ve expected.
Maybe they’d lost their taste for killing over the last

246

few days.

Assured that everyone’s focus was on the street

and not on a tiny office that hadn’t been open for
months, Will slid up onto the top of the counter and
eased back down on the other side. He thought he
did fairly well considering his leg, but there was still
a thump at the end and Will stayed crouched down
near the floor, his heart pounding as he waited for
the door to open and one of the Pinkertons to come
investigating.

The door didn’t open. Will let out a shaky

breath and inched like a worm over to the window,
keeping his weight entirely off his bad leg and being
especially careful not to let the shotgun drag across
the floor each time he lifted his right hand to move
it forward.

Finally, finally, he reached the window. This

close the crowd sounded much louder and his heart
skipped a beat as, over the din of the onlookers, he
heard Sutton counting down.

“Seven!”
Will pushed himself up onto his knees, ignoring

the burn in his bad leg.

“Six!”
He tried to look out onto the street, but the damn

Pinks were in the way and he couldn’t see anything
from this angle other than their backs.

“Five! Four!”
It took two precious seconds for Will to struggle

to his feet, only to find that he could only see far
enough down the street to see one of the fighters. It
was Poor John.

247

“Three!”
Who was Poor John fighting? Would it be worse if

it was John or Jesse?

“Two!”
Please, let it not be John. Not John.
“One!”
Two shots rang out. There was a silent hush

as Will stared so hard at Poor John that his eyes
watered, looking for any sign of blood.

The crowd erupted in a roar and flooded out onto

the street. Even the Pinkertons moved forward in
interest, finally allowing Will a glimpse of the other
end of the street, where Little John was lying in the
dust, not moving.

Will flopped back against the wall, out of sight

of anyone looking into the windows. John was
safe. esse was safe. For a moment Will just reveled
in the relief.

Then he realized what was coming next.
The next fifteen minutes were agony as Will

faced the realization that John and Jesse were going
to have to fight each other. John, the man Will loved.
Jesse, a friend of over a decade.

God, he wished they’d never come back to Dead

Horse. The hell with Jesse and Mrs. Potter and the
old sheriff and everyone else who Sutton had under
his thumb. They could have stood up to Sutton. hey
could have fought back. They could have run away.
They could have done many things, but they chose
to stay and wait to be rescued.

Of course, Will could have chosen not to rescue

them. He could have walked away. If he had, he

248

knew John would have come with him and right
now the two of them would be on their way back
to Boston, enjoying the privacy of their own sleeper
car and planning how they would go about finding
Katie’s family.

“One minute!”
Will moaned softly, pressing back against the

wall and lifting his chin up to stare at the ceiling.

What made all of this so much worse was that

Jesse would never be able to beat John in a fair
gunfight. Unless Roberta and Suzie were helping
him again – and Will would bet his last dollar that
neither woman would betray John for Jesse – the
outcome of this fight was predetermined. The horror
was that Will couldn’t even grieve for the outcome. A
choice between John and Jesse was no choice at all.

Sutton began his countdown. Each number out

of Sutton’s mouth was like a blow and Will finally
tucked his face into the corner of the room, not able
to look as his lover killed his friend.

Except that there was no gunshot.
“One!” Sutton said again, sounding annoyed.
Still, no gunshot.
Will frowned and shifted around so he could

see out the window. Apparently the Pinkertons
were much more interested in this fight than the
last, because they were standing near the front of
the boardwalk, giving Will a clear line of sight up
and down the street. John and Jesse were both in
position, staring at each other, but neither one drew
his pistol.

“One!” Sutton roared.

249

John and Jesse continued to stare at each other.
Jesse looked away first. “I withdraw.”
John opened his mouth, but whatever he

was going to say was cut off by Sutton’s howl of
outrage. Withdraw? Withdraw? This isn’t a game,
boy. You can’t just show a yellow belly and walk
away!” He stopped to heave a deep breath; when
he spoke again, his voice was calmer. “No one is
leaving this street until a duel has taken place.”

By the end of Sutton’s speech, Jesse’s face was a

bright, mottled red and as he reached for his gun he
said: “You son of a –”

The Pinkertons lifted their rifles. “Enough

talk,” utton said flatly. “Fight, or my men will kill
you.”

Jesse’s hand hesitated only a moment before it

landed on the handle of his gun. “I don’t take orders
from you,” he snarled and started to draw.

A gunshot rang out and Jesse’s shoulder was

suddenly gushing blood.

Will jerked his head back to look at the Pinkertons,

but none of them had their rifles up to fire. He looked
farther and found John standing in the middle of the
street with his gun drawn. To someone who didn’t
know him, John’s face probably looked like a blank
mask, but Will knew John better than anyone else on
earth and he could see what it cost him to stand his
ground while the doctor ran out to Jesse.

“Thank you,” Sutton said. “It’s good to know we

have at least one professional here.”

Will gritted his teeth and considered the merits of

killing Sutton early. Only the knowledge that Anne

250

might not be prepared stopped him.

The doctor looked up. “He’ll be fine.”
That was obviously a blatant lie; a cowboy wasn’t

much use without his shoulder. Still, he would live
and for that Will was immensely grateful, even if it
did put more pressure on Will and Anne; if Sutton
survived the day, Will was quite sure that Jesse
wouldn’t live through the night.

Sutton shouted something about the final

showdown, but Will ignored it as he sank down to the
floor on weak knees. Jesse would make it, and John
– John was safe. Poor John might be a dangerous
fighter but Will knew that there was no gunman as
good as John, as long as John was willing to fight.

That didn’t mean that this fight was over. There

was still Sutton and his men to consider. Will took
a deep breath and cracked his shotgun open, being
careful to be as silent as possible, though the crowd
was still wandering about outside and making quite
a bit of noise. Apparently there wasn’t going to be a
long wait till the next fight.

Just like the last time he checked, the shotgun

was loaded with a shell in each of its two barrels. aid
barrels had been shortened to the point that the
entire gun looked more like a large pistol than a real
shotgun. According to Mrs. Potter, that meant the
shot would scatter wide, making aim less important
than speed. He’d only get two shots, though, so he’d
have to make them count.

The cheering outside picked up. Will snapped the

gun shut and eased up to look out the windows. esse
was gone, with no sign of his presence but a large

251

puddle of blood on the ground. Standing just a
couple of feet back from the puddle was Poor John.
Opposite him was the real John; as far as Will could
tell, he hadn’t moved an inch since he’d shot Jesse.

“You’re early,” Sutton called from his throne.
“Don’t see much point in waiting,” John said

flatly.

Poor John shrugged. “I’m ready.”
Sutton looked out over the crowd. Will did

the same, and was interested to see a much more
subdued group than at Jesse’s fight. He felt a little
bit better to know that they’d been cheering for a
townsman to win, rather than just cheering for
bloodshed.

Still, they made enough noise to make Sutton

happy. “I am your servant,” he said and he pulled
out his watch.

Will scowled and tightened his grip on the

shotgun. It did no one any good if he jumped out
early and got himself killed.

Apparently, the time had just passed a minute

because Sutton announced, “Fifty seconds.”

Will winced and distracted himself by taking in the

logistics of Sutton and his men. Sutton himself was
sitting farther back than he was before; far enough
back that someone sitting on top of a building on
the opposite side of the street probably couldn’t hit
him. Someone shooting from Roberta’s room could
possibly pull it off, but there was no way for Will to
tell exactly where Anne was. Frankly, he’d be happy
if she was already in her perch; it was a good forty
minutes before they’d planned to be ready.

252

If she was on top of a building, she’d probably

do better with the Pinkertons. All six of them had
shifted to line the railing of the boardwalk, either
because they had sensed the changing mood of the
crowd or because they wanted a better view. Either
way, they’d be easy pickings for a sharpshooter.

That meant that Will had to focus on Sutton. e’d

planned on shooting the first shot through the
window, being prepared to fire the second shot if the
glass deflected the pellets too far, but as Sutton called
the fifteen second mark, Will noticed that the lock
of the office was merely a latch that could easily be
lifted from the inside. He snuck a quick glance at the
Pinkertons, all of whom appeared to be completely
engrossed in the coming fight and decided to risk it.
As Sutton called out “ten!”, Will twisted the latch on
the door and eased it open just enough so the latch
wouldn’t re-lock the door. A second later, he realized
that hiding behind the door made him essentially
blind so, after a moment of indecision, he opened the
door just far enough that he could see out into the
street. The angle of the door meant that all he could
see was the tiny patch of dirt where John stood, the
door framing his tall, fine figure. Will’s heart lurched
and he had to fight down an overwhelming wave of
affection.

“Three!”
Will started and dragged his attention back to the

situation at hand. He locked his eyes on John, ready
to move forward the moment John pulled his gun.

“Two!”
First shot, Sutton. Second shot, the Pinkerton

253

closest to Jacob. If Anne hadn’t already brought
down the rest, use the rifle as a club and –

“One!”
John’s head exploded in a spray of blood.
For one long, endless moment, Will just stood

there, frozen. No. No. John could not, could not be
dead. It just wasn’t possible. Look, he was still on his
feet, a gun in his hand. That meant he would be –

John crumpled to the ground.
Will slammed the door open and strode out,

heading for the street. He barely looked at Sutton
as he pointed the shotgun at his head and blew him
away. The second shot went to the last standing
Pinkerton; the rest were already in the process of
falling. That was good, because Will had already
dropped the gun and was jumping to the dirt of the
street, limping as fast as he could in John’s direction.

His mind raced as he ran, busily working up

plans. They already had their wills written up, of
course, but it would be easier for everyone if Will
transferred the ranch and the endowment over to
Mrs. Potter as soon as possible. She could take care
of Jacob and, no matter how much she protested,
Will was sure she’d be willing to take Katie in the
end. The house would be sold and the rest of his
assets liquidated for Tommy, who would hopefully
be back from his Canadian trip so that Will could
say goodbye, though of course Will would have to be
careful to not make Tommy suspicious –

“You son of a bitch,” Will breathed, almost sobbed,

as he fell to his knees at John’s side. Close up, the
damage didn’t look as bad; John’s head was still

254

intact, if nothing else, though blood was pumping
out of it at such a rate that the skull’s integrity
seemed like a small blessing.

A person knelt down next to him and tried to move

his hands away. Will was about to lash out when at
the last second he recognized the doctor and pulled
his punch to the side. “What are you doing?”

“Saving his life, I hope,” the doctor said.
Will’s eyes burned. “He got shot in the head, doc.

I don’t think there’s anything you can do.”

“Sometimes men get lucky,” the doctor said,

pressing a white cloth to John’s wound. “Hold this.”

Will held the cloth tight and gripped John’s

shoulder with his free hand. “Lucky?”

“If the bullet hits at just the right angle, it

sometimes deflects off the skull.” The doctor pulled
out a syringe and injected something into John’s
neck. “Okay, let’s get him up and into my office
before he bleeds out here in the street.”

Will immediately put his arms under John’s

shoulders and tried to stand up, but his leg had had
a very bad couple of days and decided that now was
the time to stop working. Will cursed in frustration
as he fell back, only to watch several people, people
from town that he once knew, step forward to pick
John up and carry him away.

His view of John’s departing body was interrupted

by a hand held out in front of him. Will frowned and
his eyes followed the hand up the arm to a familiar
face. “Come on, Will. Let’s get you up.”

“Roberta?”
“That’s right. Come on, now.”

255

Roberta helped Will to his feet. He twisted a

bit in the process, which often happened when he
tried to stand up on just one leg, and he ended up
facing down the street away from the doctor’s office.
There was a body lying there in the dirt. “Is that Poor
John?”

“If you mean is that the guy John just beat, then

yes. It was an amazing shot. They fired at exactly the
same time.”

Will nodded, but long before she’d finished

speaking his attention had turned away. He vaguely
heard Roberta sigh. “Come on,” she said. Let’s get
you to John.”

The doctor’s office was in the same place as Doc

Smithson’s office had been. The inside was very
different, however: the giant tank of leeches was
gone, as were the hand-knitted afghans draped over
the sitting room chairs and the bowl of boiled candies
on the counter. The furniture was familiar though,
and while the room looked a little bare without the
amenities, everything was spotlessly clean and well-
maintained. “I think John’s in the back,” Roberta
said gently.

Will immediately went for the back door, not

bothering to see if Roberta was following him. The
door was not locked – which was fortunate as if it
had been, Will would have had to break it down – nd
the space beyond was much as Will had remembered
it from the time or two that he’d brought Tommy and
Molly in. To the left was the exam and surgical room,
with its high table and large windows covered with
netting that let in light but retained the patient’s

256

privacy. Like the office area, the exam room was
devoid of Smithson’s personal touches and looked
far cleaner than it had in the past.

To the right was the recovery area, with three

beds. Each bed was covered with a quilt that looked
like the basic quilts that the local women sold in the
general store. All three beds were occupied.

Will shifted his attention back to the surgical

room and, without bothering to ask permission,
strode in the open door. The doctor barely looked
up from where he was stitching the gash on John’s
head. “I’d tell you to go away, but the last time I tried
that the gentleman threatened to shoot me.”

“I’m not going to shoot you,” Will said. “But I’m

not leaving.”

The doctor just nodded and went back to his

sewing.

“Is he awake?”
“No, but that’s to be expected between the

morphine and the brain contusion. For now we wait.
If he doesn’t wake up in a few hours, we’ll have
to consider other options.” The doctor tied off the
last stitch and carefully applied a gauze pad to the
wound, though he didn’t use anything to tie it down.
“For now, someone should stay with him –”

“I will,” Will said immediately.
“I thought you’d say that,” the doc said dryly.
“There’s a chair in the corner. You can talk to him,

but don’t touch the gauze. I’m going to check on my
other patients.”

Will nodded absently, only keeping track of the

doctor’s movements to the extent that he waited till

257

the man was out of the room before taking John’s
hand in his own. “Hey, John,” he murmured. “I’m
here.”

“So’m I.”
Will tensed, then relaxed. “Hey Roberta,” he

said, without turning around. It hardly mattered, as
Roberta came around to the other side of the table
and took John’s free hand in both of hers.

“I won’t stay long,” she said, speaking to Will,

but looking at John. For a moment Will thought he
caught a glimpse of intense longing on her face, but
a second later it was gone and he decided that it’d
just been his imagination.

Roberta squeezed John’s hand tightly, then let

go. “I just wanted to tell you that Mrs. Potter is
telling anyone who’ll listen that John here is Charles
Merriweather.”

“The third,” Will murmured, blinking rapidly.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” Will said, louder. “What about Jacob

Landon?”

“I don’t know,” Roberta admitted. “He wasn’t

among the bodies, but I don’t know where he is
now.”

Will sighed, but didn’t let go of John’s hand.
“Mrs. Potter will find him.”
“I’m sure she will,” Roberta said wryly. “She

seems to be the keeper of traumatized children
today.”

“Katie’s safe?”
“She is, as are Suzie and Anne. Anne’s already

gone, though; she went back to the ranch.”

259

Chapter 21

In fact, it took the law nearly three more days to

reach Dead Horse. By that point, John was awake,
though he was prone to long naps that ate up the
majority of each day and he was sleeping though the
night as well.

In those first few anxious hours before John woke

for the first time, Will had gone into the recovery
room to check on Jesse. Jesse had been pale but
awake, and in surprisingly good spirits. Thank John
for me, when he wakes up.”

“For shooting you?” Will asked.
“For saving my life.”
Will smiled, and nodded. “What did the doc say

about your shoulder?”

“That I’m damn lucky,” Jesse said wryly. “The

bullet went through without hitting bone. Few weeks
and I’ll be good as new.” He cleared his throat.
“Thank John for that, too, will you?”

“Of course,” Will said. “If he ever wakes up.”
“He will,” Jesse said with comforting

confidence. He’s a stubborn bastard.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Roberta said.
Will looked over his shoulder to find Roberta

looking at Jesse with a small smile on her face and a
light expression in her eyes. Will smothered a smile
of his own and went back to watch over John.

There he found Mrs. Potter and Katie waiting for

him. Katie had launched herself at Will and he’d
scooped her right up into a bear hug. “I’m so glad to

260

see you, sweetie.”

He felt a tiny head nodding against his neck,

and his shoulder got suspiciously damp as Katie
clung to him with surprising force for a child her
age. Eventually he shifted over to sit on the chair,
holding Katie the entire time. “She was frantic,” rs.
Potter said, which was unnecessary but still tugged
at Will’s heartstrings. “I promised her she could
visit for a few minutes while I tell you what’s been
happening in town.”

Will’s attention jerked away from Katie. “What’s

been happening in town?”

“First of all, as Roberta told you, the town believes

that John is Charles Merriweather and that Katie is
his niece. Charles heard that his niece was the only
survivor of a wagon fire and came to pick her up and
the two of you decided that if you’d come this far,
you might as well visit the ranch that he founded.
When you arrived, you heard about the tournament
and Charles, having always wanted to try a duel,
signed up. Since he wanted to be anonymous and
since there were already five people signed up as
John Anderson, he did so as well.”

Will stared at her, impressed. “And Sutton and his

men?”

“Shot by an unnamed Mexican who immediately

left town. Folks think that he might have been
related to the Mexican brothers who died earlier in
the tournament. As for the Pinkertons, one was killed
by the Mexican. The rest were killed by a man with
a rifle from across the street. Fortunately I saw the
man and would be able to describe him, if necessary.

261

He looked remarkably like the Smith brothers who
both died in the tournament.

“A bit of a coincidence that both men decided to

strike at the same time,” Will murmured.

“They were waiting for the tournament to end,” rs.

Potter assured him. “And I have two women who can
corroborate my story, a couple of prostitutes that the
Mexican and Mr. Smith availed themselves of before
their attack on the sheriff and his men.”

“What about the bodies?”
“Already being buried in a mass grave outside

of town.” Off Will’s appalled look, she added, “We
didn’t have room for them in the cemetery and we
couldn’t risk leaving them in town. As anyone from
the surrounding area could tell you, we’ve recently
overcome an outbreak of typhoid fever.”

“You are amazing,” Will said, awed. “Have you

ever considered running for mayor?”

“Oh, come now,” Mrs. Potter said, sounding

flustered. “Who would ever think to vote for a woman
mayor?”

“Apparently a town in Kansas,” Will said. Twenty

years ago. I remember there being a fuss about it
when Molly and I first came west.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Potter said again, in a different

tone. But what about the ranch?”

Will sighed. “I don’t know. The boys are all gone

and, for all we know, the buildings as well. esse’s
hurt and I don’t care what the doc says, I don’t know
that his shoulder’s going to be up for ranch work.
And I don’t even know what’s going to happen to
Grady’s ranch, but from what you’ve told me it’s

262

bigger than ever. I wouldn’t be surprised if the new
owner starts pushing you to sell.”

Mrs. Potter considered that. “Who’s to say

the new owner of the Grady ranch might not be
Mr. erriweather?”

Will just buried his face in Katie’s hair and

laughed.

It was the middle of the night when John finally

awoke. Mrs. Potter and Katie had long since left to
find accommodations at the hotel for the night and
Will was attempting to find a comfortable enough
position in his chair for sleep when he heard the
moan. Instantly he was on his feet by the bed. John?”

“Will?”
Will’s eyes welled up and this time he didn’t try to

blink the tears away as he took John’s hand in both
of his own. “It’s so good to hear your voice.”

John blinked at his captured hand, then

slowly turned his eyes about the room. Blearily he
asked, What happened?”

“You were shot,” Will said, with a slightly

hysterical laugh. “In the head.”

There was a long pause. “In the head?”
“Yeah. But don’t worry, the doc said you’ll be

fine.”

John blinked some more, stared at Will for a few

seconds, then closed his eyes again. His breath
immediately evened out into the slow, familiar
rhythms of his sleep and Will stumbled back to his
chair, exhausted but feeling lighter in spirit than he
had in weeks.

263

“This is healing quite well,” the doctor – whose

name was apparently Dr. Daniels, but who was
permanently named Doc in Will’s mind – said as he
peered at Katie’s scar.

Katie stoically endured the touch, though she

was shooting glares in Will’s direction. Will stuck his
tongue out at her in return and she surprised all of
them – possibly even herself – by giggling.

Doc smiled down at her and released the hair

that he’d been holding back. It fell forward again,
covering a chunk of the scar. “Pity you weren’t
close enough to a hospital for immediate treatment,
though – a skin graft might’ve reduced the scarring
for the second degree burns around the edges.”

“Skin graft?” John asked from his bed in the

recovery room. He was the only one left in the room,
with Jesse having gone back to the ranch the day
before. Roberta and Mrs. Potter had gone with him,
presumably to do their best to mother hen him to
death.

“It’s really quite fascinating,” Doc said

enthusiastically. “You start with very thin strips of
animal skin, preferably from some place close to the
bone, like a chicken’s wing –”

John listened avidly as Doc explained the process.

Will and Katie exchanged a glance and, without a
word, headed for the door. “Ready for lunch?” Will
asked her once they reached the boardwalk.

Katie shook her head vigorously.
“Yeah, me either,” Will said with a wrinkled nose.

“Let’s go check on Suzie, then.”

264

Suzie was the last remaining member of their

conspiracy still in town, with the rest, including
Jacob Landon, having returned to the thankfully
still-standing ranch. Jacob was a bit of a touchy
subject for everyone in town, as far as Will could see,
with half of the town horrified for him and feeling
guilty for not having done anything to save him, and
the other half angered and bitter at the way Jacob
had been so obviously favored by Sutton and the
undeniable fact that Sutton had killed the Landon
family just to get his hands on him. The end result
was such a conflicting, ugly mess of tensions that
when the US Marshals had finally ridden into
town, the only story they didn’t seem to buy was the
completely true one of what happened to the Landon
family and to Jacob Landon. In the end, however,
no one was accusing Jacob of personally hurting
his family and everyone else who might’ve been
involved in the killings was dead and the Marshals
let the entire matter go. ruth be told, they seemed
far more interested in the actions of the Pinkertons;
Will had gotten the distinct impression that there
was bad blood there.

Much of this information had come from Suzie

herself; she’d opted to continue plying her trade even
after the law came to town and had been their eyes
and ears into the subsequent investigation. ill was
grateful for the information, but was equally grateful
when Suzie agreed to retire once the Marshals had
gone. These days, she spent most of her time in
Herrod’s, somehow managing to win extravagantly
at faro without making enemies.

265

In the end, everything had turned out as well

as it could have. Dead Horse was free and was,
in Will’s opinion, very likely to be electing a new
female mayor in the next few weeks. John and Jesse
were both on the mend and the doc was confident
that both would have full recoveries. atie and
Jacob were alternating between being each other’s
greatest friend and worst enemy, which was highly
entertaining to everyone except Mrs. otter, who
was completely exasperated at them both. Roberta
and Suzie were both more open and happier than
Will had ever seen before, and Roberta was flirting
shamelessly with Jesse. That might be a problem,
except for the fact that both of them knew that she’d
be leaving town soon. They seemed to be making
the most of the time they had left.

As for Will, now that it was all over and everyone

had survived, he had come around enough to be
glad that they had undertaken this trip. Still, as he
and Katie walked down a boardwalk still stained
with blood, he made a private vow to himself that he
and his would never, ever step foot in Dead Horse
again.

266

Epilogue

“Wow,” Davy said, his eyes wide as he looked

through the window into the garage. “What’s it
called?”

“An Oldsmobile,” Billy said expertly. He smirked

at Tim and Joey. “I got to ride in it once.”

Davy looked suitably impressed. “Do you think I

can ride in it someday?”

Billy scoffed. “You’ve only been in the

neighborhood for a week! Why would they let you
ride in it?”

Davy nodded wistfully. “It’s real pretty, though.”
“You should hear it when it runs,” Billy said. “It’s

noisy.”

All four boys sighed and pressed their noses to

the windows.

“Back, I see.”
The boys jumped back to see a tall, lanky man

with smiling green eyes. Billy recovered first. “Hi,
Mr. Connors. I was just showing Davy the car.”

“Very kind of you, I’m sure,” Mr. Connors said

dryly. He shifted to the side, revealing a girl wearing
a white dress, with her hands hidden behind her
back. She was maybe a year or two older than Billy,
but it was hard to tell with the way she hunched
her shoulders like that. “I’d like you to meet Mr.
Merriweather’s niece, Katie. She’ll be staying with
us from now on.”

The boys stared at her. “Hi,” Joey offered.
The girl stayed silent. “Say hello, Katie,”

267

Mr. onnors said gently.

The girl lifted her head a fraction. “Hello,” she

said softly, but none of the boys noticed.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Tim asked. Billy

looked over at him with a mixture of exasperation
and awe.

“Hey –” Mr. Connors started to say, but before he

could say anything further, the girl pulled one hand
forward from behind her back and flung the contents
of that hand right into Tim’s face.

Everyone stared at the now mud-splattered

Tim. r. Connors looked especially shocked. “Katie!”

“What’s wrong with your face?” she jeered at Tim.
Mr. Connors gaped at her.
Tim wiped at the mud, more spreading it around

than wiping it away. He grinned. “I’m so going
to get you for that.” With a war cry, he launched
himself after her. She shrieked and ran away, though
somehow she never got so far away that Tim didn’t
have any chance of catching her. Billy exchanged
looks with the other boys, then started after her as
well.

Will stared at the children, completely

flabbergasted. When the four boys caught Katie,
he stepped forward to intervene, but stopped again
when she kicked one of them in the shin, pulled her
arm away from the other and started running again,
laughing.

She was laughing.
Will swallowed past a suddenly thick throat.
“Billy,” he called out.
The boy stopped and looked over questioningly.

268

“No blood, no broken bones, and no playing in

the streets.”

Billy just nodded and ran after Katie again.
Will shook his head and watched for a moment

longer before forcing himself to turn around and
head back into the house. As he walked, he thought
about the small pile of bones they’d seen in the
smoking remains of Katie’s family’s wagon. aybe
she’d had a little brother.

He found John waiting anxiously by the

door. How’d it go?”

“They asked her what was wrong with her

face,” ill said helplessly. “At which point, she threw
mud at one of them and asked what was wrong with
his face.”

“She spoke?” John asked, wistfully.
Will felt a pang and reached out to grip John’s

shoulder. “I think it’s easier for her around other
children.” She’d gotten along well with Jacob
Landon, too.

“Maybe,” John said. He sighed, then made a

visible effort to cheer up. “She threw mud at them?”

“Right in the face,” Will said. “I’m starting to fear

what Roberta’s teaching those girls at her school.”

“You teach at that school!”
“Only math,” Will said defensively. “I’m only

over there three hours a week. I think Anne spends
more time teaching them how to shoot than I spend
teaching them their sums.”

“I think Anne just wants to spend as much time

away from the brothel as possible, now that Suzie’s
hired a bodyguard.”

269

“I’m surprised she didn’t hire one sooner,” Will

commented. “It’s not like she couldn’t afford it.”

“I’m sure there was a reason. Suzie’s far better at

business than you or I’ll ever be.”

Will acknowledged that statement, then

awkwardly cleared his throat. “Are you still ...”

“Visiting Suzie in the brothel?” John asked dryly.
“Yes. Though all we’ve done is had coffee and

cookies in her bedroom.”

“I know,” Will said quickly. “I just wish you didn’t

have to keep up the pretense.”

“It’s better than courting random society women,”
John said with a shrug. “Though Roberta’s

pushing me to squire her around. She seems to think
she’ll have more luck drumming up funding for a
forward-thinking girls’ school if she has a man on
her arm.”

“If she’d just stop being so stubborn, we could

fund that school.”

“Keep telling her that, Will. Maybe someday

you’ll get her to listen.”

Will glared at him, but without much heat

and after a moment he turned to peek out the
window. atie and the boys still seemed to be having
fun. You know,” he said thoughtfully, “Mrs. Bowden
has the day off.”

John stilled. “Mrs. Dora is out doing the

shopping.”

“Katie’s occupied for the time being.”
They looked at each other with twitching lips. “I

bet I can beat you to the bedroom,” John said.

“Sucker’s bet,” Will said, but he ran for the

271

About the Author

Jane Elliot has been writing novels, short stories,

and screenplays for fifteen years and has been
published in several US magazines. She believes
that fiction can help promote understanding and
acceptance of alternative and marginalized societal
groups and most of her writing is focused on
relationships, be they platonic or romantic, between
individuals from all walks of life.

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