“You’re in no shape to do that,” Elizabeth said.
He winced as the wounds in his side twinged a little.
“I’m in no shape to fight off whoever wants me dead, either. But if I could make it to Flat Rock and find Sam, he could watch my back.”
“You don’t know if he’s even there. He could have found the trail of those men who attacked you, and it could have led somewhere else.”
She was right about that, Matt realized. His instincts told him there was some connection between the bushwhackers and the settlement, though.
For one thing, the men who’d taken those potshots at him and Sam had been using repeaters. Judging by what he had seen so far, the Navajo didn’t have any rifles except a few old single-shot weapons. Matt was convinced the bushwhackers had been white men.
And where else in these parts would white men be found except in Flat Rock, or on one of the ranches in the area of the settlement?
As he pondered that, he sighed and said, “I won’t leave today. I reckon I’m still not strong enough to do that. But I don’t make any promises about tomorrow.”
“You should come back to my hogan,” she suggested. “I can watch over you and make sure nothing happens.”
Matt wasn’t sure a schoolteacher from Vermont would be able to stop somebody from trying to kill him, and besides ...
“That would just scandalize these folks even more. They’d run us both out of the canyon, and you didn’t want to leave yet.”
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind,” Elizabeth said. “Things are getting too tense here. Normally the Navajo are very peaceful people, but I’m starting to get a feeling that ... well, that there might be trouble.”
Matt looked up and down the canyon. He felt the same way. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and the skin prickled, as if someone was watching them.
Somebody who didn’t have their best interests in mind.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “Tomorrow, if you still feel the same way, we’ll get out of here.”
Elizabeth nodded in agreement.
Now all they had to do was live through the night, Matt thought.
Chapter 22
Mrs. McCormick had told Sam that she served breakfast at six o’clock. What he found waiting for him when he came into the dining room the next morning was worth getting up that early for.
The rich aroma of fresh-brewed coffee filled the room and mingled with other enticing smells, like that of fresh-baked bread and sizzling bacon.
Six men sat at the long table, including Noah Reilly. The little bespectacled clerk lifted a hand in greeting and smiled at Sam.
“Mr. Two Wolves!” he said. “Mrs. McCormick told me that you’d taken a room here. I’m glad to see you.”
“You, too, Noah,” Sam said.
Reilly pulled back the empty chair next to him.
“Here, have a seat.”
The table was already set and had food on it. Sam saw platters full of bacon, biscuits, hotcakes, eggs, and hash brown potatoes. A couple of pots of coffee sat within easy reach, and so did a pitcher of buttermilk. There was gravy and honey for the biscuits, molasses for the hotcakes.
It was classic boardinghouse fare and Sam’s stomach rumbled a little as he sat down next to Reilly, letting him know that he was ready for it.
Mrs. Reilly came in from the kitchen, carrying a tray with several jars of different jams and preserves on it.
“Good morning, Mr. Two Wolves,” she said. “Have you met everyone?”
Sam shook his head.
“No, not really, just Noah here.”
“Let me introduce you to the other fellows,” Reilly said.
He went around the table giving Sam the names and occupations of the other boarders, adding jocular asides about their professions such as “You don’t want to get too well acquainted with Cyrus here. He’s the undertaker!”
Sam filed away the information in his head, knowing that he wouldn’t remember most of it. The townsmen were all pleasant enough, although a couple of them were a little reticent in their greetings. Sam had a hunch that was because of his Cheyenne blood.
Overall, though, it was a pleasant meal, and Sam was stuffed by the time he was finished.
“What are your plans for the day, Sam?” Reilly asked as they walked out of the house after breakfast.
“I don’t really have any,” Sam replied with a shake of his head.
“Are you looking for work?”
“I might be.” He wasn’t, really, but he might have to use that as an excuse to hang around Flat Rock while he continued to search for the bushwhackers.
