Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Sarah and Tessa were both good people, and Bertha, while attached to Zeb, had never offended Ned’s sense of goodness either. A quiet whisper at the back of his mind suggested he might want to leave some of them a note, but there was no doubt in his mind that Tom would be informed of the message. After all, nobody was holding the ladies with the gang by force. Of course they’d wish to preserve whatever freedoms they enjoyed.
So he said nothing and left Cole’s tent, which had been moved beyond the main circle as a sign of contempt. Now, this played in his favor, because the glow of the fire barely penetrated the darkness around it, and he could sneak out unseen. He was relieved by the time he reached the horses, but unease still twisted his guts again when he realized someone was standing by Nugget’s side. No. Feeding him. Ned’s joints stiffened when he recognized the man’s face in the faint illumination of the distant fire, and wondered whether Saul’s presence meant they’d been found out. The man didn’t look his way, but must have heard Ned, because he spoke.
“You don’t feel like drinking?”
Ned’s senses buzzed with nerves. Had Saul noticed something off about Ned’s behavior and expected him to flee tonight? He cleared his throat. “I’d rather stay sharp, just in case.”
The threads of gray in Saul’s hair shone as he looked back, gently pulling his fingers through the stallion’s mane. In the sparse light, with his large nose casting a shadow on the darker half of his face, his features appeared severe. Serious. And while Saul had washed his body in the creek upon their return from Three Stones, Ned knew the hands petting his mount still smelled of gunpowder.
“Then you better keep this on you,” Saul told him, presenting Ned with his father’s razor. Flames engulfed Ned’s throat, but the other man spoke before Ned could have called him out as a thief. “It’s been taken from your tent. But don’t worry, their resentment will pass.”
Ned bit his lips and squeezed the smooth handle. He couldn’t believe some bastard, who now enjoyed his time by the fire had tried to steal Ned’s most important memento. He would have left the camp without it and only found out once it was too late. Sorrow struck as he looked at the razor.
His father would have been in his forties now. Maybe they would have still lived together. Maybe they would have joined Uncle Liam down in the valley after all. Maybe Ned would have had siblings. He’d never know because Butcher Tom and his gang had taken the life Ned could have had.
Saul exhaled. “You have my support in this, you and Cole. It is not right to judge men not on their merit but what they desire.”
Ned’s mouth dried. Saul barely ever spoke to him, unless the situation required, and he’d always been so serious about everything. To know that he, out of all people, sympathized with their plight came as a surprise.
“You were the one who took care of my horse the day after—”
“After Cole lost his cool.”
Despite the horror of their situation, Ned found himself chuckling. “Yes. That time.”
“It’s a dangerous trait, such impatience. You need to curb it in him,” Saul whispered and patted Nugget’s forehead.
Ned took a deep breath, biting his lip. Perhaps he should leave now. Wait for the man to go and ride off, but curiosity won, and he asked, “Why did you help us?”
Saul shrugged, his dark eyes shutting halfway, as if he were glancing into the past. “My younger brother was like you. And he too was judged, because the God my family chose to accept called him sinful. Or rather, his converters did.” The last sentence had been said with so much disdain Ned felt Saul would have ripped the priests’ hearts out with his own teeth if he could.
“What happened?”
“Nothing. He left. Heard he died fighting cavalry, but I don’t know for sure.”
Ned licked his lips, shocked by the conclusion he was drawing from Saul’s words. Did the natives treat men like him and Cole with more understanding? He could barely hear himself when he spoke up again.
“What tribe are you from?”
Saul chuckled, shaking his head as he met Ned’s gaze. “Don’t matter anymore. My family diluted their blood, and now we’re all mongrels here. Me. You. The men from New York. None of us knows where they belong in this crazy world. When you’re my age, you’ll understand everything is in constant change, and you’ll need to carve out the life you want yourself.”
That was what Ned intended to do. To carve a life for himself and Cole, no matter what anyone said. But after the exchange with Saul, he itched to at least share with this man that the law would come for them soon. Could he risk that though? Despite the compassion Saul was showing him now, he still wore a cleaver on his forearm.