'Damn,' he whispered, wondering how he could have been so foolish as to let a gunman get behind him.
Buck stirred in a rawhide chair near the potbelly. 'Wasn't your fault, Morgan,' he said.
'How's that?' Frank asked, taking note of the subtle curves beneath Karen's buckskins while she added split wood to the stove.
'It was snowin',' was all Buck said.
'I should have known better.'
'Careless was all you was.'
'Careless can get a man killed,' Frank replied, settling back against a lumpy pillow. 'Men in my profession know that real well.'
'Maybe you shouldn't stay in that gunfightin' profession no longer?'
'I'd quit years ago. If it hadn't been what they did to my wife and my boy...'
Buck snorted softly. 'Don't sound like that son of yours is much good at takin' care of hisself.'
'He isn't,' Frank agreed, feeling the whiskey soften the pain in his shoulder. 'It isn't his fault. It's a long story that doesn't need telling, but I never got the chance to raise him proper.'
'Maybe I'm just bein' nosy, but how's that?'
'Be quiet, Dad,' Karen said. 'He doesn't want to talk about it now.'
'Sorry,' Buck mumbled, returning to his sweetened coffee as snowflakes fell softly on the cabin roof.
'I was forced to leave my wife before the boy was born.' Frank said it with anger thickening his voice. 'I didn't see him at all until he was a grown man.'
'There!' Karen snapped. 'I told you not to pry into it, Dad.'
'You've got my apologies again,' Buck said.
Frank closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the past he wanted to forget. 'It's okay. I've learned to live with it over the years.'
Karen came over to him. 'Do you want more soup? Or some coffee?'
'No, ma'am,' he replied, noticing that Dog had come over to the cot to lick his hand. 'I might be able to use more of that whiskey.'
'Good squeeze, ain't it?' Buck asked, grinning.
'I've never tasted any better. As soon as I'm strong enough I'll need my horse ... and my guns.'
'I figure I know why,' Buck said.
'I came all this way for a reason. I'll feel better in a little bit.'
'It'll be dark soon,' Buck said. 'No sense gettin' out in this cold when a man can't see. Whatever you aim to do to them fellers, it can wait till mornin'.'
'I'm not much on waiting.'
'You'll need your strength,' Karen said, offering him the clay jug. 'If you go out in this weather, it'll drain you something awful.'
'She's right,' Buck said. 'Wait fer sunrise. The men you're after will be easier to see. Right now, I'm guessin' they figure they got you, even though they ain't found your body. In the snow back yonder you left a hell of a puddle of red, an' they'll think it's the end of you.'
'I'm wasting time here,' Frank said, swallowing more of the whiskey while he looked steadily into Karen's soft brown eyes. 'I need to be on the move.'
'Shape you're in,' Buck said, 'you won't be able to move very damn far.'
Dog whimpered softly and licked Frank's hand again.
'You see?' Karen said with a smile. 'Even your dog agrees with us.'
'Dog never was all that smart,' Frank told her, reaching for the dog's forehead to give it a rub.
'Is that his name?' Karen asked.
'I couldn't think of one much better at the time,' he explained.
The woman giggled.
'What's so funny?' Frank asked.
'The name. I'm afraid to ask what name you gave to your horse.'
'Mostly, I just call him Horse ... when I'm not mad at him over something.'
Karen put the jug beside him on the mattress and walked over to the stove, warming her hands.
'Gonna get cold tonight,' Buck announced. 'I'll give that horse of yours an' my pinto a little extra corn. It's late in the year for a squall like this.'
Buck got up and headed for the cabin door, hesitating when he reached for the latch string. 'Maybe you brung all this bad weather with you, Morgan?'
