“When did these dreams about Maw and Sarah start?”
“After I found Maw’s body. She come that night and damned me. Told me I done let her down.” He ground his teeth. “Hell, seems I was always letting her down one way or another. I just never could be the boy she wanted me to be. But that day I found her dying in the house? I knew there wasn’t no forgiving me for nothing after that.”
“I think you wrong her. The woman who raised me wouldn’t condemn you for not being there to be killed when the bushwhackers rode in. She’d have wanted you to rescue Sarah. To live.”
Billy used his good hand to make a fist and prop his chin so he could see Doc better. “Maybe. But things changed when you left. She and Paw went at each other. Not tooth and nail like bobcats in a bag, but cold and hard and silent. Paw moved his bed into the spare room. That’s when she really come down on me. ‘Don’t you become a wastrel like your paw, boy!’ she told me one time when I didn’t get the chicken coop cleaned out.”
He grinned. “Tarnal hell, what’s chicken shit compared to a two-day hunt with John Gritts?”
Doc sighed. “Butler told me that she knew about Paw and Sally Spears. You heard that story?”
“Somehow I missed that one. Reckon it would explain some things, though.”
Philip hesitated. “Tell me about these dreams you have. I understand Maw rising from the grave. But what about the one with Sarah? You said she was naked and raped.”
Billy chewed his lips and frowned. Did he dare tell?
What the hell, you’re already dead and dying.
“You promise me what I tell you is atwixt you and me, and no other? And never, on your holy honor, do you mention a word of this to Sarah?”
“I give you my word.” Doc laid a hand on his heart.
Billy exhaled slowly so as not to hurt his ribs. “I’m laying on my back, buck-assed naked, and Sarah rises up looking like she did at Dewley’s camp. She’s stripped bare. All covered with bites and bruises, and from her privates … well, you can tell she’s been used hard. Her hair’s mussed and blowing like in a wind. She walks over, looks down at me with hell-burning eyes, and reaches down. I can’t stop her when she lays hold of my johnson. And then she lowers herself and…”
Billy swallowed. “Well, hell, Doc. There ain’t no way fittin’ to talk about it. I just wake up shamed and hating myself. Sometimes I go through weeks of it. Dreams of Maw, dreams of Sarah. Sometimes the whores I killed change faces with Sarah. You see, I got the Devil inside, and he tortures me something fierce.”
Doc sat silently, a frown lining his forehead.
Billy made a face. “Devil’s been in me since the day I walked into Dewley’s camp and shot those bastards down.”
“How do you know that?”
“’Cause I could feel him in my chest, Doc. I didn’t have no fear, didn’t have a hesitation. He was there, making sure I done it right. I don’t remember giving him my soul in return for getting Sarah out, but he must have known I’da said yes if he’d a bothered to ask.”
Doc rubbed his face, as if exhausted. “I don’t know that I can stall Marshal Cook, but I have some influential friends. Men who, for a price, can probably get you out of Denver. It will—”
“Thought you give your word to that marshal.”
“You’re my brother, Billy.”
“Fuck that! Did you hear a word I said? I’m tired of hurting all the time. I’ve lived with hell bottled in me for too long now.” He blinked back tears. “There ain’t no happy ending out there. Ain’t no redemption. I want the hurting to stop. I just want it over!”
“Billy, there are places that might be able—”
The bell in the front rang.
“Hold that thought. We’ll pick it up when I get back.”
Billy watched his brother rise and hurry through the door.
Goddamn you, Philip. Last thing I need is some damn hero figuring he’s a-gonna be a fucking saint.
Billy couldn’t hear the words out front, spoken as low as they were. He heard what sounded like a bench being shifted. Some soft thumps. Most likely someone injured being laid out.
He closed his eyes, trying to keep from breathing hard and hurting. All of life had funneled down to a desperate hope that in return for that damn confession, Dave Cook would give him that one shot. It wasn’t such an impossible thing to ask for. Why the hell stretch it out?
He heard Doc coming back, his boots scuffing on the floor.
Billy opened his eyes, staring into someone’s belly: a check-patterned linen vest with brass buttons partially covered with a polished gun belt, the holster empty.
Billy winced as he turned his head, looking up at a stranger. Revolver in hand, the man stared down with hard brown eyes. A mustache flared over wide lips. Homburg-style hat set forward on his head. Then more came flooding in. Maybe ten altogether. Most had bandanas over their faces, some wore bags over their heads with cutouts for eyes.
“Who’er you?” Billy asked.
“Friends of Swede Halverson’s.” The man’s smile carried no humor. “You know why we’re here?”
Billy swallowed hard. “Yep. And if you can’t get this job done right and fast I’m calling you all a bunch of bleeding cunts.”
Someone shoved a wad of cloth into his mouth. Quick hands tied his ankles together. His scream died in the gag as they jerked his arms behind him and bound them.
He would have smiled as the hard hands grabbed onto him, but pain blasted hot and white through his chest and shoulder.
As they carried him to the front, he was relieved to see Philip, hands and feet tied to the bench, a gag in his mouth. His brother’s panicked
