Stained Snow (8 page)

He watched the boy’s uneven gait as he headed toward the house. He shouldn’t have to deal with this. None of them should.

William twisted around and slammed his fist against a pole of the corral. Startled, the horses ran to the other side of the enclosure. One snorted and shook its head, looking back at him.

William cursed as pain shot through his knuckles and up his arm. When he turned back around, Patrick watched him. He didn’t want to talk to him or hear a lecture, so he headed into the barn. They had time before his mother would have dinner ready. He needed to work some of this anger out of him before he went inside.

#

October 20, 1877

William stepped out of the barn when a horse rode in. He leaned the pitchfork against the barn door and went to stand next to Patrick, who shaded his eyes at the oncoming rider. “Who is it?” William pushed his hat back on his head.

Patrick shook his head. “Not sure.”

William rested his hand on the butt of the pistol at his waist just to be sure. He’d always carried one with him before— it was necessary out on the trail—, but he’d always had it on his saddle. He’d only started wearing it on his hip in the last months. If Thomas ever showed his face, there wouldn’t be anything between him and his gun.

As the rider drew closer, William did recognize him. He’d seen him in the livery barn quite a bit, one of Al’s boys. Patrick stepped forward and said, “Jacob, what are you doing out here? I don’t think I have any business with your pa.”

Jacob shook his head. “No, but he said I should come out here to talk to you.”

“Why? I’m not hiring any hands right now. With winter coming, there’s barely enough work for the ones I have.”

“I’m not here about a job.” He swung down from the saddle. “I’m here to talk to you, Will.”

His words slammed into William. He didn’t have a chance to say anything before Patrick said, “Put your horse in the corral, Jacob. I’ll put some coffee on, and you can come inside.”

Patrick headed for the house as Jacob led his horse down to the corral where he could rest and graze after the ride from town. William felt stuck. He could only think of one reason the hostler’s boy would ride more than an hour from town to talk to him. Al had been one of the people he’d reached out to for help in finding Thomas.

He still stood in the same spot when Jacob returned from the corral. They weren’t far apart in age, and William knew him better than Al’s other boys, but he wouldn’t say they were close. Still, he remembered a few things about the other man. Little things he’d heard and picked up around town.

He hadn’t settled down yet. He didn’t even stay in town all the time, although he worked hard for his father when he was there. He liked cards and usually drifted between games. William’s impression had always been of an easy-going sort. Let trouble and insults roll off him.

He stopped beside William now. “Your pa’s probably right. We should go up to the house.”

“Where is he?”

“Let’s go up to the house. I’ll tell you what I heard.”

William couldn’t go after his brother, no matter how much he wanted to find him. Unless he was close. He’d be willing to leave David for a day if it meant avenging Anna. He felt torn between the two. He wanted Thomas to pay, but he couldn’t handle the guilt of leaving David alone, so he stayed here.

He stepped up onto the porch as the wheels of David’s chair rolled across the floor inside. He closed his eyes for a moment. It wasn’t a good day. There hadn’t been many in the last week. He kept getting weaker and weaker. He barely got himself out of his bed and into the chair to join them in the morning. His mother told him he didn’t come rolling out before midday some days. He never made it through the whole day. He didn’t even attempt to step out of the chair anymore.

His son had been so daring six months ago. Now, he was left with this. Another sin Thomas would have to pay for.

He took a deep breath and stepped inside. His heart shattered at the sight of his son. Paler than the night before and even thinner. Even from here, William heard his shallow breaths.

He was dying, and William couldn’t do anything to stop it.

He walked over to the boy and set his hand on his shoulder, just a knob under his hand. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up for dinner?”

David nodded and rolled away without saying a word. William turned back around and took the cup of coffee Patrick held out for him. He nodded at the table and all three men sat. “What did you hear?” Patrick asked before William even opened his mouth.

Jacob swallowed and glanced between the two men. “I was up in North Fork the day before last for a game.”

William pushed his chair out from the table. North Fork was just south of the Wind River Reservation. They had driven a small herd of horses to Fort Washakie, on the reservation, earlier that month. Only a little more than an hour’s ride from town, closer to two from here.

Jacob reached out for his arm. “Will, wait. He’s not there. I didn’t see him.”

It took William a few deep breaths to calm down enough so he could sit again. “Where is he?” His words came out as nearly a growl, and his mother’s spoon hit against the pot. His teeth ground together, but he forced himself not to react. They’d been dancing around this issue since he’d brought David here. She didn’t believe Thomas did this. He did. They couldn’t find any common ground.

“I asked the men I played with if anyone had seen or heard something about him. One left Rawlins last week. Said he was there, flashing some money around. He’d come in from Colorado on the rails, he wasn’t playing in the game there. This man said he seemed to be getting drunk as fast as he could and getting mean with it.”

Sounded like Thomas. He could be mean even without the alcohol.

“He never did join the game,” Jacob continued. “Kept on drinking in his corner and didn’t talk to anybody. Just took a wh-” He glanced toward where Will’s mother stood stiffly by the fireplace. “He took a woman up. My friend left a little later and didn’t see him again. I don’t know if he’s still there or not, Will.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Will muttered. He couldn’t go. It would take days to even reach the closest rail stop. The train didn’t come up this far north. It would take even longer if he tried to go all the way to Rawlins on horseback. He held his hand out to Jacob. “Thanks for the information. If you hear anything more, let me know.”

“You’re not going after him?”

William cut his gaze to the room David had rolled into. “I can’t,” he said, a harsh edge to his voice.

“Are you going to stay for dinner?” William’s mother asked Jacob even as William turned away.

“No, Ma’am, sorry. I told Pa I’d be back to finish chores tonight. I have to be going.”

William stayed by the table until the hoofbeats retreated from the yard. His hands kept clenching into fists at his side. Finally, he turned and headed for the door. “I have chores to finish myself.” The words felt like glass against his throat. He had to get out.

“Dinner’s about ready, William,” his mother said, her voice still tight.

He wanted to scream she was choosing the wrong son again. Instead he kept walking toward the door. “I’m not hungry right now. I might eat later.” He didn’t care about the chores, they could be finished after dinner.

He couldn’t stay in the house any longer when everything tried suffocating him. Hard work might help get the air back into his lungs.

Chapter 10

Lander, Wyoming Territory

October 27, 1877

William stood in front of another grave. David hadn’t gotten any better. Four days ago he didn’t even try to get out of bed. William checked on him before going out to do chores and check on the herd with Patrick. He’d been breathing but sleeping. When they got back before dinner, his mother said David had slept all day. He’d gone in to try to rouse him to at least eat something and found his skin cold to the touch.

William had hit his knees on the floor beside the bed and pulled his son’s body to him. He held him there until Patrick returned with the doctor. It was too late. Doc thought the bullet shifted and nicked something. He had no idea how long he’d been bleeding inside. The doctor said probably not too long, or he would have died even sooner.

It didn’t matter. He was still gone.

The fog William had been walking through for the last several days finally felt like it lifted. With David buried, nothing held him here any longer. He could find Thomas and make him pay for everything he’d done. He knelt between the two crosses marking his family’s graves. “I’m sorry. It won’t bring you back, but I’m going to get justice. I promise you that.”

He stood up and shoved his hat down on his head. He turned and headed out of the cemetery. He didn’t make it far. His mother came running up to him as he reached the gate and threw herself at him. “Please, William, don’t do it. Don’t go after your brother. You can’t do this to him.”

Her words made his blood run cold. She had always taken up for Thomas, as if he could do no wrong. She never believed it when he did. Even when he attacked William with that knife. She insisted William must have instigated it. It had always been that way.

He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her aside. Patrick stood a little ways down the street, his hands in his pockets. He’d already tried to convince William to go back home with them. “I’m sorry, Ma. You think your other son is perfect, but he killed my family. He destroyed everything good in my life. I can’t let him get away. Not this time. You may not have cared about Anna, but she’s my wife. I know you loved David. I can’t let him get away with this.”

“I did care about her,” she cried, “but you don’t know it was him. It could have been anybody.”

“I do. I should have been there to stop him. I’m going to fix that now.” He let go of her and walked past her.

She cried his name, but he kept walking. He didn’t go to the sheriff’s office, where he’d bunked while making the funeral arrangements. Instead, he walked down the street, toward the livery stable where his horse waited.

The hostler stood in front of the barn when William reached it. “I didn’t figure you’d be stayin’ long.”

William shook his head. “No, Al. I need to be going after him.”

“I understand, Will. Your pa does too. Even if not everyone does.”

“Why did he try to stop me if that’s true?” Will asked, but he was already moving into the barn.

“Because he worries about you, too. He doesn’t want to see you hurt, even if he knows why you must do it.”

“I won’t let anyone stop me, Al. Please don’t try.”

“I won’t. Trust me, Will. In fact,” he said and disappeared into his office. He returned a moment later with a small sack. “I figured this would be your plan and had Mary make up some food for you.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” William said, but took the sack.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Al told him. “I would be doing the same thing in your shoes. This is the least I can do.”

William saddled his horse and led him out of the stable where the sheriff waited for him.

“You can’t do this,” Carl told him.

“I am doing it. You’re not going to stop me.”

“You can’t seek revenge in the name of justice, Will. You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to tarnish that badge you carry.”

“I’m not seeking revenge, Sheriff. I plan on bringing him in if I can. Don’t worry, I won’t tarnish your badge.” He reached into his saddlebag where he kept his deputy’s badge. “You can have this back until I return. Even longer if you wish.”

He held it out until, with a sigh, the sheriff took it from him. He settled into the seat of his saddle and took up the reins. His mother called his name again as he turned the horse toward the edge of town, but he ignored it and kept riding.

#

Barnes Ranch, Colorado

October 29, 1887

Maggie stepped down off the porch and couldn’t stop her gaze from scanning the horizon. It was early, though, and still too dark to see much of anything. She wrapped her arms tight around herself, trying to ward off the chill of the morning. Snow would be coming soon.

She didn’t know why she still looked for him. It had been almost six months since Thomas had ridden away. She should accept he wouldn’t be back.

What if he couldn’t come back?

The thought always nearly took her to her knees. She tried to shove it as far back in her head as she could. He would come back. It might be another year, but she would wait for him. He told her of all those exciting, faraway places. Places she would never get to on her own. He had to come back.

She dropped her gaze and headed for the milk shed. Their two cows would be ready to be milked by now, and she still needed to collect the eggs from the chicken coop before she started breakfast. Pa would be coming in from his morning chores and expecting that to be ready. She didn’t have more time to dawdle.

Still, she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder toward the west, the direction he usually rode in from. Nothing lay out there but the same trees, the same peaks in the distance. The same everything. She wanted something different. Thomas had given her a glimpse of it, but that had gone with him.