Stained Snow by Fallon Brown Page A

happened? He remembered confronting Thomas outside of town. After that everything went fuzzy and gray.
    Footsteps approached again. Those soft, unsure ones. The girl, Maggie, she said her name was. Heavier footsteps mixed with hers. He tried to bring his hand up to his face to wipe away the tears, but he couldn’t even lift his arm.
    “It’s okay, son,” a deep voice said from beside him. “Relax. You’re going to be all right.”
    “What happened to me?” William asked after licking his still dry lips.
    “You don’t remember?”
    William shook his head, feeling as if he didn’t even have the energy to open his eyes. He’d caught up to Thomas. Had said he was going to take him in. Then, what? His mind couldn’t grab onto the memory. “I almost had him.”
    “Who, son? Do you know who did this to you?”
    “What did he do? It hurts.”
    The man sighed. “He shot you, boy. Twice. I found you laying on the trail on my way back from town. You don’t remember how you got there?”
    Then he did. “He wouldn’t come with me. I was going to take him in, but he wouldn’t come with me.”
    “Are you the law, boy? I didn’t see a badge with you.”
    William shook his head then forced his eyes open again and looked up at the older man. “No. I’m a deputy sometimes in Lander, but not now. He killed my wife. My son. I have to find him.” He struggled up, but George put a hand on his shoulder and easily held him down.
    “Not now, son. You have to rest. He’s gone now anyway. You’ve been here nearly four days. You have to heal before you can make things right.”
    Four days? Another four days had passed with Thomas free. He would never find him now. He collapsed back to the floor, all of his strength gone. George and Maggie spoke to him, but he couldn’t make out their words. He wanted the peace of darkness to take over him again.
    He should have died out there on the trail. Then, he could be with his family again.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 13
     
    November 15, 1887
     
    Maggie carried a bowl of water and roll of bandages down the hall to Henry’s room. No, it wasn’t Henry’s room any longer. Her brother had been gone for nearly ten years. Twelve really, since he hadn’t been home much after joining the Army. It would always be his room, though.
    Right now, it was William’s. That’s the name he’d given; William Bailey. She gave the door a quick knock before opening it. He’d slept in front of the fire for the first week he’d been there. Those first days after he’d woken up, he hadn’t stayed awake long. Only long enough for her to ask his name and see he had the most striking blue eyes. Thomas’ were the same color, but darker. There was something similar and yet so different about the two men.
    He turned his head toward her when she stepped into the room. His eyes filled with grief, and she thought tracks of tears ran down his cheeks. She wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than the spurts of anger she’d seen when her father kept him from getting out of the bed.
    He seemed determined to get himself killed after everything they’d done to save him.
    Of course, he could barely even sit up by himself, so there wasn’t too much risk of that. “Have you come to let me out of here yet?” he asked, his voice rough.
    She set the bowl of water on the table beside the bed. “You’re not imprisoned here, Will. If you could get up out of that bed, we’d let you walk out of here as you are.”
    Color crept up into his cheeks, and he turned his face away again. Maggie sighed and walked over to the edge of the bed. She had more things to do. She couldn’t fight with him all day. When she pulled the blanket down, he jerked it back up.
    “I have to clean and rebandage your wounds, Will. You’ll get an infection if I don’t.” She’d already nursed the man through one fever, she wasn’t about to let modesty make it so she had to through another.
    “Maybe I don’t really care.