It didn’t.
Lancaster leaned over and patted the horse’s neck
“You and me are gonna get along fine.”
The horse’s head went up and down, as if in agreement.
“Now let’s see if you can walk.”
He gigged the horse with his sore feet and the animal did indeed begin to walk. Granted, he walked very slowly, but at least they were moving, and in the right direction.
“You know where the river is, too, don’t you?” Lancaster asked.
The horse just kept walking.
“Well, if you and me are gonna spend some time together,” Lancaster said, “and depend on each other, I think I need to be able to call you something other than horse.”
They rode for a while, Lancaster trying to come up with a likely name. Finally he did, but it was chancy.
“You might throw me when I tell you this,” he said, “but I think I’m gonna call you Crow Bait.”
He tensed, but nothing happened. The horse just kept walking.
“Okay, then,” Lancaster said, “Crow Bait it is.”
Five
Crow Bait walked until morning, and would have walked farther if Lancaster had allowed him.
“Where are you getting this from?” Lancaster asked the horse, stroking his neck. “You’re a bag of skin and bones, and yet you keep going.”
Lancaster didn’t dare get down off the horse. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get back up again. He had drifted off a couple of times during the night, either to sleep or unconsciousness, he wasn’t sure which. But he had awakened in time to keep himself from slipping off Crow Bait’s back.
The sun was coming up, and while there were still a few Joshua trees around, they did not afford much in the way of shade. There was no point in stopping. He and the horse might not have been able to start again.
“I don’t mean to ride you to death, boy,” he said apologetically, “but I don’t have much choice. And you look like you’re pretty near death, anyway.”
But as near death as he might have been, the horse went on.
If Lancaster had been a religious man, he might have thought that this animal was something supernatural sent to him to save him. But he wasn’t religious—not ever, and he didn’t intend to start now.
“But whoever sent you to me,” he said to Crow Bait, “I’d sure like to thank them in person someday. That is, if you and me manage to get out of this alive.”
Lancaster opened his eyes and squinted as the sun burned into them. He’d done it again, fallen asleep or lost consciousness. His mouth was dry, and his skin felt like sand.
He pulled his hat down low on his head to shield his eyes and then tried opening them again. He was still on the horse, and Crow Bait was still walking.
“Headin’ toward water, boy?” he asked. His throat was so dry he didn’t think the words had come out. He’d just heard them in his head.
Only the smell of water could have kept Crow Bait walking the way he was. As long as he didn’t fall off the horse’s back during one of his blackouts, if Crow Bait made it to water, so would he.
He hoped he’d be awake when they got there.
Six
Lancaster opened his eyes and flinched at the expected glare of the sun, only it wasn’t there. He frowned, stared straight up. There was no sun, and no sky. He was staring at a ceiling.
And he was lying on something soft and smooth.
He moved his hands in front of his eyes, to make sure he was seeing right. He flexed his fingers, then touched his face.
“Oh, good,” somebody said, “you’re awake.”
“Wha—” he said, but the word wouldn’t come out. He turned his head and saw a woman standing in a doorway. Then he looked around, saw that he was in a room with walls, and a ceiling and furniture. He put his hands down, felt the sheets and the bed beneath him.
“I—I—” He tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.
“How about some water?” the woman said. She came to the bed, held his head, and tipped a glass to his dry lips. The water trickled down his throat and felt good.
“There,” the woman said, setting his head back on the pillow.
“I—is this real?” he asked, his voice raspy.
“Oh yes,” she said, “this is very real. You’re in my house, and you’re safe.”
He took a deep breath, looked around again, and looked at her. She was somewhere between a woman and a girl—midtwenties, maybe.
“Your house?”
“My family’s house,” she said. “My brothers and me.”
“How—when—”
“Just relax,” she said. “Your horse came walkin’ up to the house with you unconscious on its back. My brothers caught you as you fell off, and we brought you inside. You’re safe.”
“How—what kind of shape—”
“Are you in?” she finished. “Well, your feet have cuts and blisters on them, and you were kinda dried out from being in the sun. Also, somebody seems to have put the boots to you. Your body’s a mass of bruises, and your face. But other than that, nothin’ seems to be broke.”
“Tha-that’s good,” he stammered, “but I was going to ask you about my—my horse.”
“Oh, the horse?” she asked, laughing. “That wasn’t much of a horse, mister. It’s amazing he got you here. My older brother, Ben, wanted to put a bullet between the poor animal’s eyes, but—”
“No!” Lancaster said. “He can’t!” He tried to sit up, but she stopped him.
“No, no, it’s okay,” she said. “I didn’t let him. The horse is fine. He’s in the barn. Just…lie back.”
Lancaster allowed her to push him back down.
“You need some more water,” she said, “and you need some food.”
“How long have I been here?” he asked.
“Since yesterday.” She held the water for him again, and he took more this time.
“My horse,” he said. “Water…did you give him water…feed…?”
“He’s been watered, fed, rubbed down, and fed again,” she said. “Don’t worry.”
“That animal saved my life,” he said. “I was on foot, and then he was there…”
“Mister, nobody’s gonna hurt your horse, I promise.”
“Okay,” he said, “okay.” He took a deep breath.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Actually,” he said, “now that I think about it…yes.”
“I’m makin’ dinner for me and my brothers,” she said. “I can bring a tray in here—unless you think you can walk?”
“Uh, I don’t know,” he said. “I could try.”
“Well,” she said, “why don’t we try standin’ first, and go from there?”
“Why not?” Lancaster said.
She removed the sheet and blanket to allow him to stand. He swung his legs around, put his feet down, and hesitated. Someone—presumably the woman—had bandaged the cuts and blisters on his feet.
“Go ahead,” she said. “Try.”
He nodded, put his weight on his feet for a moment, and stood up.
“Whoa,” she said as he swayed. “Dizzy?”
