grease and wintergreen to his shoulder wound.
'I still can't figure what happened to Ned Pine,' Frank said.
'Does it matter?' Buck asked.
'Not really, I reckon.'
Conrad spoke up. 'We saw some Indians when Cletus Huling was bringing me into the valley. The funny thing was, they weren't carrying guns.'
'One of them killed Huling with an arrow,' Frank said as Buck began winding strips of cloth around his fevered shoulder. 'But there wasn't any arrow in Ned. I rode up close to where he fell for a good look.'
Karen finished putting salve on Conrad's ear, and put a clean piece of white cloth around his head. 'That should do it,' she said.
'I'm grateful, ma'am,' Conrad replied, standing up near the stove to warm his hands.
Frank put on his shirt, doing it carefully, then sleeved into his mackinaw. Dog sat near his feet, watching everyone in the smoky cabin.
'I made some elk soup,' Karen said. 'Best the both of you have some before you take off.'
'I'm sure as heck hungry,' Conrad said, smiling for the first time since Frank had seen him.
Frank stood up. 'You make some mighty good soup, Karen, only that bark tea made me see things once in a while I was down in the valley.'
'You mean the Indians?'
'I just saw one. Saw him twice.'
'You weren't seeing things. We see them from time to time, but not very often.'
'Then they're real,' Frank said. 'I was told they were ghosts from long ago.'
'They're real enough,' Karen told him, ladling soup into tin cups.
Buck gave his daughter a glance. 'You be quiet, girl,' he said gruffly.
'But why, Pa?'
'Because I said so. They let us live up here because we don't talk about 'em. We don't bother 'em either. They go on about their business, same as us.'
'All Frank asked was if they were real or not. Don't see what's wrong with that.' She handed Conrad and Frank cups of soup.
Frank decided it didn't matter, and dropped the subject. As far as he was concerned, the arrow in Cletus Huling was real enough to kill him. 'We're headed back south. It'll take us a few days to get back to Durango. I want both of you to know how much I appreciate what you've done.'
'That goes for me too,' Conrad said. 'My father told me what you did for him after he was wounded.'
Frank's soup was salty, but delicious. 'We owe you a big debt,' he said.
'You don't owe us nothin',' Buck replied. 'We'd do the same for damn near any stranger who didn't come up here with no bad intentions.'
'Including killing some of the men who were holding his son for ransom?' Karen asked.
'Maybe,' Buck mumbled, turning his back to Frank. 'It would kind'a depend on the man, or the men. That outlaw bunch didn't cause us no trouble.'
Karen came over to Frank and stared into his eyes for a moment.
Frank allowed an uncomfortable silence to pass. 'And a special thanks to you, for the tea and whiskey you made,' he said.
'Pa gathered up the bark. All I did was brew the tea for you.'
'No matter. It must have helped. I feel a lot better already.'
She lowered her voice. 'You come back sometime, Frank Morgan. I'll miss seein' you.'
'And I'll miss seeing you too, Karen. You've got my promise I'll come back one of these days.'
'I hope that's a promise you'll keep.'
'I always keep my word, 'specially to a pretty lady.'
She turned away then and went back to the woodstove to fix Buck a cup of soup.
Frank drained his cup. 'It's time we got going,' he said to Conrad. 'We've got half a day of daylight left and we'll need to find a campsite.'
Conrad picked up a torn woolen blanket he'd taken from the shack in Ghost Valley. 'I hope we won't freeze to death tonight,' he said, shivering in spite of the warmth of the log cabin.
'We'll build a big fire,' Frank said, grinning. 'I've got plenty of coffee and fatback. We'll boil a big pot of beans too.'
Frank went over to shake Buck's hand. 'Thanks again, Buck, for all you did.'
'Wasn't nothin',' Buck answered. He glanced over at Conrad briefly. 'Just glad you got your boy back. That bunch wasn't no outfit to take lightly.'
'How well I know. But they're all dead now, and this is the end of it.'
