Forcing the last bit of fortitude into his voice, Joseph told her, “Close your eyes, sweetie.”
TEN
When Joseph’s senses slowly leaked back into him, he could still smell burning wood. The scent of blood was still in his nose and his stomach was still knotted in the tight grip of panic and rage. Something touched his forehead and when he tried to bat it away, he felt practically every bone in his body cry for mercy.
“Take it easy,” a voice told him. “Lie back and try to—”
But Joseph would have none of it and desperately tried to silence whoever it was that had spoken to him.
“Nick! He’s awake! I need your help!”
The door to the little cabin swung open and heavy steps pounded against the floor. Soon another shape came into Joseph’s view, and it was enough to get him to stop struggling for a second.
Holding Joseph’s arms against the bed, Nick looked down at him and nodded. “He sure is coming around. Feels like he’s got some of his strength back, to boot.”
“Where am I?” Joseph snarled.
“You’re in my home and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to punch my wife.”
Joseph stopped struggling so he could take a better look around. His first glimpse told him he was in a cabin. As his vision cleared, he saw the woman looking over Nick’s shoulder. She was smiling warmly and had her thick black hair tied behind her head.
“Nicolai?” Joseph asked.
“I’m flattered you remember. You can call me Nick. This is my wife, Catherine.”
Looking back to the brunette, Joseph said, “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m just glad you missed.”
All Joseph could manage was a shaky grin, but that only lasted for a heartbeat. He tried to sit up, but couldn’t even get halfway before a flood of pain brought him down again. A gentle hand pressed down upon his chest to keep him from making another attempt.
“Not just yet,” Catherine said.
“How long have I been here?”
“The better part of a week.” Furrowing her brow, Catherine bit on her lower lip. “Actually it’s been just over a week. It sure does feel a lot longer than that since you were brought in here. I stitched you all up, and you didn’t wake up for more than a few minutes of it.”
Joseph slowly brushed his fingers along the most painful spots and reached up to touch his left temple. The moment his fingertip grazed that part of his head, he thought his skull was going to crack open.
“Easy, there,” Catherine said. “That wound’s still a little tender.”
“I…don’t remember how this happened,” Joseph muttered.
“My guess is that was the shot that was supposed to put you down for good. Seems like you had an angel looking over your shoulder who had other plans.”
Gritting his teeth, Joseph lowered his hand said, “Feels like you did a good job on the stitches.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“Nick brought me here?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“Because you were still alive and he wanted you to stay that way. He drove you here on the back of his wagon and we’ve been taking care of you ever since.”
“What about those sons of bitches that…” Joseph couldn’t even finish his question before the rage swelled up to fill the back of his throat.
“They’re gone,” Catherine said gently. Before she could say any more, the front door swung open again and Nick’s voice drifted through the cabin.
“Can you help him sit up?” Nick asked.
Grudgingly, Catherine slid an arm behind Joseph’s shoulders. “You’re going to have to help me a bit,” she said. “I’m almost as tired as you right about now.”
Joseph let out a breath and strained to make her work a bit easier. Even after a pillow was slipped behind him, Joseph barely had enough willpower to open his eyes. “You should have left me where I was.”
“Don’t say that,” Nick told him. “At least, not until you see who I’ve got with me.”
Looking through the slits of his eyes, Joseph saw a small figure stepping around from behind Nick’s tall silhouette. That was all he needed to snap his eyes fully open and nearly get him jumping off the bed. “Sam? Is that you?”
The little boy rushed to his father and hugged him desperately. Despite the pain caused by those slender arms wrapped around him, Joseph was happier than he’d ever thought he could be. Just the smell of the eight- year-old’s hair was enough to make him let out a joyous sigh.
“I thought I wasn’t…I…I’m so glad to see you, son.”
“Me too, Daddy.”
With his son’s face pressed against him, Joseph looked across the room at Nick. Just as he was about to ask a question, he saw Nick shake his head and start to walk away. Joseph was more than glad to spend some time with Sam. It didn’t matter much what else had come before.
Nick stepped outside and shut the door behind him. A few paces away, Catherine leaned against the narrow wagon that carried Nick’s tools when it wasn’t carrying one of the caskets or headstones he’d created. A hot breeze blew stray wisps of hair into her face and she brushed them back.
“What happens to them now?” she asked.
Nick glanced over his shoulder at the cabin as if he could see right through it. It wasn’t as big as some of the houses in town, but it was home and he’d put it together with his own hands. When he turned back around, he saw Catherine and the wagon outlined against the wide stretch of hills.
He shrugged and walked over to her. Placing his hands on her hips, he said, “I don’t really know. To be honest, I was expecting to bury him.”
“Is that why you tried to keep the boy from his bedside?”
“I guess.”
“And here I thought you had some grand design in mind when you dragged him here. You seemed so certain that we didn’t bring a doctor. Was that just so I could practice my sewing skills?”
“Between the two of us, we’ve got more than enough experience with dressing up bullet wounds. Besides, you did a fine job.”
Catherine’s smile lasted for all of two seconds. After that, she fixed him with a glare that was almost enough to back Nick off completely. “That man in there almost died. Could you have that on your conscience?”
“I’ve got a lot worse.”
“What about the law? Shouldn’t they know Mister Van Meter is here?”
“They knew about the men riding to his ranch,” Nick snarled as he pulled himself away from her and braced both arms against the side of the wagon. “And what did they do about it? Not a goddamn thing!”
Catherine scowled and then glared toward the cabin.
Continuing in a lower voice, Nick said, “Those riders came here knowing full well what they were going to do. Those smug bastards took their sweet time in taking that place apart, which might mean they’ve got some of those lawmen in their pocket.
“I went to see Sheriff Stilson after the fire. He told me most of the ranch hands were at The Wheelbarrow that night. They’re the ones who told him that everything was fine and that they didn’t see anyone riding out to Mister Van Meter’s. Even if that does rule out him being crooked, it just means he’s either stupid or gullible. Either way, Stilson’s as useless as tits on a bull.”
“He’s been asking for you, you know.”
“Who has?”
