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Slowly, still crying over his leg, Billy lifted his hands, caked in red, over his head.
"We're going into town, Bill. And I don't want any funny business."
Bill shook his head. "No funny business. Just—" She could see him wince hard. "Let Cathy see to my leg, will ya?"
Thirty Three
Catherine wasn't sure what to think at this point. Why did this have to happen? In less than twelve hours she was going to get Ada from Doc Connelly's place, and until then she should have had a nice quiet night in. A night where the biggest concern she had was a man asking her to marry him.
Now that same man was marching her husband into town. A town with a dirty Sheriff, and the same town where Billy had always played cards. The man was a cheat, but with the way he paid off his debts in the end, some of them would be willing to forgive and forget for old times' sake.
Which meant that, for all intents and purposes, he was walking into a lion's den.
"What's wrong, Mama?"
Catherine leaned down and pulled Cole up into her lap. "Nothing, baby. Mama's fine. Everything's going to be alright."
"Who was the man that was here?"
"That was…" She struggled between her desire to keep things easy, and knowing what the right thing was. Telling him would just hurt his feelings, and it wouldn't change a thing. So she shouldn't tell him, simple as that.
Only it wasn't as simple as that. It never seemed to be. Cole, Grace, they had the right to know who their father was. For that matter, though, could she be sure? Like, really sure?
Catherine sighed. "He was someone Mama used to know, Cole. Nobody any more. Just an old friend."
"How come he didn't come in and say hey?"
"Mama didn't think he should."
"Oh."
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine a world where things went better than she was worrying they would. She could do it, but it was hard. Damn hard.
Glen kept his horse a little ways behind. A busted leg wasn't going to hurt Bill's ability to ride a horse. Glen knew that from past personal experience. So he made the man ride on ahead.
"Come on, Glen. Why don't you let me go?"
"You pulled a gun. You're lucky I didn't shoot you dead where you stood."
"My damn leg, it hurts! Just, let me stay here a while. I won't go back to the ranch. I'll just lay up here a little while, and then I'll be on my way. You could even head on into town, have one of the Sheriff's boys pick me up."
"I don't think I'm going to do that, Bill."
Catherine's former husband wasn't making it hard to believe that he was hurt. In addition to his whimpering in pain, the man was clutching at his leg with one hand, working the reins with the other. The bleeding had stopped by now, but it sure would hurt like seventeen hells. It would have been a mercy to give the man a bottle of something to drink, but there wasn't anything in the house.
Besides that he hadn't earned any mercy. Not in the entire time that Glen had known him, and not in the years before that either if the story were to be believed.
They rode in silence for a while, except for Bill's wordless fussing over the pain in his leg. For a moment, Glen almost thought things were going to be alright. He took his hand off the Spencer for a moment to check the positioning of his pistol anyways.
As he reached for it, a shot rang out, and the horse he was riding fell over. A voice cried out: "GO!"
Bill's leg wasn't stopping him from riding, that much was clear. The other horse took off like a shot. Glen's leg was caught. He pulled on it hard, and it moved maybe a quarter of an inch. The horse was heavy, and it wasn't moving.
Glen managed to roll just enough to get the pistol free, dropped it in the dirt beside him. Then he took the rifle. He was going to have to be ready for anything. But it was a very specific sort of anything, and as luck would have it, he was very good at this one.
Movement in the rocks, off to the south. Glen pressed himself halfway-sitting and then took aim. The shot must not have hit, because a moment later a shot came back. A thankful miss.
There was no reason to waste his ammunition like this. Not when he was at such a disadvantage. Glen needed to find a way to get out from under this horse, and fast. Sooner or later they would find a way over to him, a way that didn't expose them too much to fire. At this distance, he couldn't be sure of a hit.
