Stained Snow (24 page)

“You could,” Adam said, sounding sure of himself and of her. “He can’t ride. I can’t leave you here while I go back for the wagon. What would you have me do?”

“Save him. I don’t care how you do it. Just save him.”

He sighed and dropped down beside her. “I’ll need your help. We have to stop the bleeding. That’s more important than anything else. See if you can find something we can use as bandages.”

Maggie nodded and stood, stepping back from William. When she did, her eyes came to rest on Thomas. She had shot him. Ended his torment of William. Now, William had to make it out of here.

She hurried past the two bodies and the horses to Thomas’ bed roll, where he kept the saddlebags. He hadn’t wanted to chance her getting whatever was in there. Not that she could have, with the way he’d tied her up.

She wasn’t tied up now, she reminded herself. He was dead. It was ridiculous for her heart to race like this as she approached the bed roll. It wasn’t him laying under the blanket. He’d only shaped it that way to trick William into stepping into the trap.

She glanced back toward the two bodies as if to reassure herself Thomas really was dead. He wasn’t moving. She couldn’t even see his chest rising. She’d shot him, but she hadn’t meant to kill him. Adam had tried to get her away, but she couldn’t leave William there. She wouldn’t let him give his life for her.

She had ripped Adam’s gun away from him and run back to the clearing. When she’d seen Thomas standing over William, she feared she was already too late. Her hand shook when she called out to Thomas. He hadn’t even turned, not thinking her a threat. She didn’t have a choice. Tears had run down her face as she pulled the trigger. She hadn’t shot him in the arm, like she’d hoped. Instead it took him right in the back of the head.

Her hands shook and her stomach roiled, but she had to help William right now. She took a deep breath then ripped back the blanket and grabbed the saddlebags. When she returned to William’s side, Adam had taken the wounded man’s shirt off and ripped it into strips.

“Not all of these are bad. The bullet is still in his shoulder, but the bleeding has stopped there already. We’ll have to remove it when we get him back to the ranch. It’s the other two we have to worry about.” He looked up at her, concern lining his face. “One went right through his side. The bleeding is bad, so you need to keep pressure on it. This other one went in right under his ribs. It didn’t come out.”

“Is he going to make it?” She risked a look up at Adam.

His mouth formed a thin line, grim in a face usually light around her. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “Keep pressure on this one, both sides.” He indicated the wads of shirt he held to the front and back of William’s lower side. “I’ll take care of the other two wounds then figure out a way to get him back to the ranch. We’ll get him home for you, Maggie.”

His hand came down to her shoulder, but she ducked her head. She didn’t want to think about what she might have to do when they got home. Didn’t want to think about having to bury her husband. They’d been married for less than three months. She couldn’t let him go already.

She did as Adam instructed and held the two pieces of cloth to the hole in his side. Wetness ran down her cheeks, but she hadn’t even realized she’d started crying. “Please, Will,” she murmured. “Please stay with me. I can’t lose you now.”

She sat there until Adam nudged her aside. He took a long length of cloth and wrapped it tightly around William’s side, keeping the other two cloths against the wound. He finally sat back on his heels. “That’s all I can do for him out here.” Silence fell for a moment. “Get me a blanket. The only way we’ll be able to get him home is to carry him. He can’t ride. Laying him over the saddle will probably kill him too. I can probably rig up a litter to drag behind the horse.”

Maggie stared at him for a moment, and he shrugged. “Pa and I didn’t stay with my mother’s people long after she was gone, but I learned some things. I can do it. Get me that blanket.”

She nodded but didn’t say a word. Adam had worked for her father for several years now. She usually forgot his mother was Shoshone. He never said where she went, just that she was gone. None of it mattered now. The only thing that mattered was getting William home. So he could recover or for her to bury.

That last thought brought a choking sob. She fisted her hand in the blanket Thomas covered her with the night before. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream at even the thought of him.

He never loved her, but she had still fallen for him. Had thought he would be able to take her away from here. Instead, he would have forgotten her if it hadn’t been for his hatred of William. He had used her all along. She fought back the tears as she carried the blanket back to Adam.

She felt his eyes on her but didn’t look up again. “I’m doing what I can, Maggie.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything. Wasn’t sure what she could say right now. She withdrew and let him work. Once he made the litter, she watched as Adam hooked it to the horse then lifted William onto it.

“We’ll have to move slow,” he told her. “Otherwise we could jar him too much.”

She nodded again but let him lift her onto one of the horses. He mounted his own horse and took the reins of the horse dragging William. When his eyes met Maggie’s, they held so much sympathy it nearly broke her. “Come on, Maggie. Let’s get him home.”

Chapter 27

Bailey Ranch, Wyoming Territory

September 10, 1888

Patrick stepped out of the barn and pushed his hat back on his head. He leaned against the outside of the barn for a moment. He was tired and getting too old to deal with this. “Damn it, Will. Why haven’t you come back yet?” He missed the boy. It had been nearly a year since he’d ridden off. They hadn’t heard anything. Didn’t even have any idea if he was still alive.

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened to him. He pushed his hat back down on his head and straightened from the barn.

“Someone’s coming, Boss,” one of his men called.

He glanced up at the man, one of Will’s hands who stayed on with Patrick after the fire. He was glad to have everyone who had stayed. He wished Will would have as well. But, his son would never have been able to live with what he saw as a failure. He shifted his glance to the horse loping toward the yard and squinted, but he still couldn’t tell who it was.

“Get the rifle. We’ll see if they’re friendly.”

They’d been going armed for the last year. There hadn’t been any sign of trouble from Thomas, but they stayed alert. Patrick wasn’t willing to let that man hurt anyone else he cared about.

He couldn’t help but glance up at the house. The curtains at a window twitched. His chest hurt. Sarah hadn’t taken William’s leaving well. She was worried and grieving for both sons, figuring they had killed each other. He wished it didn’t come out as anger aimed toward William and him.

He’d taken to spending as much time away from the house as he could. He wanted to heal her pain, but she wouldn’t let him close enough to do it.

He brought his focus back to the rider, who slowed to a trot. A moment later, he recognized the sheriff and relaxed. The horse slowed further, and Patrick stepped forward. From the corner of his eye, he saw the ranch hand lower his own rifle.

“What brings you out here, Carl?”

The man swung down from the saddle and held something out to him. Patrick’s hand shook as he took it. “What’s this?”

“Telegram. From Lay, Colorado.”

His eyes came up to the sheriff. “Where the hell’s that?”

“Just a little ways south. Railroad can take you to Glenwood Springs. It’s about a day’s ride north of there.”

“Why would I take the railroad anywhere? What’s going on?”

“Read it, Patrick. I think you’ll want to go.”

He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand with his name at the top. His eyes scanned down to the next words.

Your boy is here. Injured. You should come.

George Barnes, Lay Colorado

He looked back up at the sheriff, his hand shaking so hard he nearly dropped the paper. “Which boy? Do you know?”

Carl nodded. “I sent a response. It’s Will, Patrick. He’s hurt real bad by what I could gather. This guy thinks it’s important you get there. I’m guessing he doesn’t know if he’ll make it.”

Patrick swallowed past the boulder lodged in his throat, then nodded. “Right. I’ll get Sarah.” He looked back up at him again. “Where can we catch the train?”

“Thayer would be the closest. Shouldn’t take you more than two days to get there.”

He nodded and turned away. His foreman stood right there. “I’ll get a team hitched for you.”

“Thanks, James.” He turned and started for the house. Will was alive. Where had he been for the last year? What about Thomas? Those questions kept circling his head as he stepped up on the porch, almost in a daze, and walked into the house.

He didn’t even have to go looking for Sarah. “What did Carl want? What did he give you?”

He handed her the telegram and waited while she read it. Hope lit her eyes when she looked up. “It’s Will.” That hope dimmed a little. He ground his teeth. “Get some things together. We’re leaving right away.”

“I can’t go.” She turned away.

Patrick clamped his teeth together, afraid of what would come out if he opened his mouth right now. He closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath. He said, “You’re going, Sarah. Will is your son, too.”

“He’s probably killed Tommy.”

Her voice wavered, but she wouldn’t look at him. He wanted to soothe her pain, but it wouldn’t be at the expense of William. “Then, he likely deserved it. Will wouldn’t have done something in malice. He wouldn’t have had a choice.”

“He could have stayed here. He had that choice.”

He moved to her. “You know he couldn’t. He had been dying inside along with David. If he would have stayed after we buried David, he would have been lost to us as well.”

“He has been anyway.”

“Now we can get him back. He’s not lost anymore, Sarah. You still have a son unless you turn from him.”

“He always hated his brother.”

“Thomas hated him. Why won’t you admit it to yourself?”

She shuddered against him. “He’s my boy. How can I say something so vicious about my boy?”

“Will’s your boy, too. That’s something you have to remember. Right now he needs us. I don’t know how bad it is, but Carl made it seem important we get there. We’re catching the train at Thayer. Get your things together so we can get there. He needs us, and I won’t waste more time.”

Her body stilled at the command in his words. He didn’t often lay down the law, but this had gone on long enough. He wouldn’t bend on this matter. She stepped away and nodded. Satisfied, he turned away and went out to check on the wagon before they headed out.

#

Bailey Ranch, Lay, Colorado

September 16, 1888

Maggie leaned against the porch railing, trying to fight back the tears and failing miserably. The doctor had left an hour ago. Said there wasn’t much he could do for William. It had been ten days since he’d been shot. He hadn’t woken up. When Adam had gotten William back here, her father had ridden to town to get the doctor. He said he’d sent a telegram to Will’s parents, too. She didn’t even know if they had gotten it. Would it matter if he died anyway?

She wiped a tear away from her cheek. The doctor had gotten the bullets out, and they’d stopped the bleeding. William hadn’t opened his eyes even once. He seemed to be holding on by a thread. If she could, she’d sew a few more on to bring him back to her. The doctor had given them more laudanum to help ease Will’s pain, but it didn’t do anything to help bring him back.

The baby moved, and she held her hand against her stomach as another sob escaped. Would Will even be around to meet their child? The doc had checked on her before he left. Said the baby seemed strong. Like his pa.

She had to hold onto that, or she would lose all hope. If she lost it, she feared Will would let go as well. She couldn’t let him go.

A cloud of dust rose in the distance, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. She squinted but couldn’t make out much more than an outline of horses. Her fingers tightened on the railing as it came closer.

Her father and Adam stepped out of the barn together, rifles at the ready. There hadn’t been trouble since they’d come back. Daly and Riley had killed one of the rustlers. No one they recognized. The others hadn’t returned, but they stayed prepared.

It never ended.

She stayed where she was, clutching the railing. Her father and Adam moved into the center of the yard, the rifles held in front of them. Her father turned his head to look at Adam, but she couldn’t hear his words. His arm dropped so the rifle was held at his side. Adam lowered his rifle as well and turned to head toward the house.

Her pa held a hand up to the driver of the wagon then grabbed onto the reins as he spoke to him.

“Who is that?” she asked when Adam stepped up onto the porch.