Chapter 4

Morris heard the approaching rider before anybody else since he was riding well back from the wagon. He shifted his rifle across his lap and pulled his horse to a stop on the edge of the road. It wasn't as if the rider was trying to sneak up on them, but it paid to be alert and it had saved his life more than once.

He almost swore aloud as he saw who the rider was before nudging his horse into the road, blocking the other horse's path. Joseph recognised the man his uncle often travelled with and heaved a sigh of relief.

"Where's Uncle Ethan?"

Morris narrowed his gaze at the kid. "Just what in tarnation are you doing here?"

"Please, I've gotta warn Uncle Ethan."

Joseph began to push his horse around the obstacle before Morris grasped at his reins.

"Warn him about what?"

Joseph was exhausted and in no mood to be compliant. "Let me go! I need to speak to him, now! He's in danger!"

Morris held the rein tightly and leaned closer to the boy. "You know who I am, don'tcha?"

Joseph nodded and was about to speak when Morris cut him off.

"Good. Then you tell me what's going on and be quick about it."

Reluctantly, Joseph began to relay all that had happened since he'd overheard the threats back in the livery. He was surprised to see the man taking him seriously and even more surprised when he tugged at the reins and started up the road.

"Well c'mon! We've gotta catch up to them."

Ethan was almost ready to head back looking for Morris when he rode into view. The fact there was another rider with him unsettled him and he squinted in the late afternoon sun to make out who it was. He called the wagon to a halt as he waited for them. It took a few minutes for the two horses to get close enough and he felt his heart drop into his stomach as he realised who was riding alongside his friend. Something had to have happened to one of the boys and he silently cursed himself at leaving so soon after they had been so sick. He kicked his horse into a trot and quickly pulled alongside his nephew.

"Joseph! What are you doing here?" He tried to keep the worry out of his voice and failed miserably as he barked the question.

"Uncle Ethan, I've gotta talk to you. Privately." Joseph looked over his uncle's shoulder at the men on horseback and the other two in the wagon and he swallowed down the fear that one or more of them could mean to kill his uncle.

"What?"

"I had to come and warn you."

"Joseph, what are you talking about?"

The story tumbled out in a whispered rush and Ethan stared at the boy as if he'd lost his mind.

"You rode all the way out here to tell me this job might be dangerous!"

"No! Uncle Ethan, those men said they had somebody travelling with you who was going to kill you and make it look like you'd been bushwhacked. They said you'd never make it into Redding alive!"

Ethan heard the fear in the boy's voice and fumbled over how to allay it. There were days he had no idea how to be a parent and this was turning into one of them.

Joe sat easy in the saddle and watched the strange scenario unfolding. He felt his gut churning in warning that something was wrong. He couldn't define what was causing the prickle on his scalp, but he glanced at the other men and noted that Jacob had his rifle in his hand. It seemed an odd thing to do given it was just a boy and he automatically rested his hand on his thigh near his holster.

Soon enough, Ethan turned and rode up towards them with the youngster in tow.

"This is Joseph. He'll be camping with us tonight and heading back home in the morning."

Joseph scowled at his uncle and barely managed to keep his mouth in check. He had no intention of turning tail for home, but his uncle rarely changed his mind once he'd given an order.

Joe kept his thoughts to himself as they began to set up camp for the night. He soon figured who the boy was when he said something to his uncle. What he couldn't figure was why the boy was there at all. He buried down thoughts of his own boy and what he would be doing. His mama would have things well in hand as she always did. Joe felt himself tensing as he tried to shove aside the voice that nagged at him and told him he should be home with them instead of guarding something he had no idea about for a man he barely knew.


Joe paced the perimeter of the camp with his rifle at the ready. He'd drawn the second watch, which suited him just fine. It wasn't like he was going to sleep much anyway. Nagging thoughts kept chewing at him as he had tried to rest and finally he'd gotten up and poured himself yet another mug of coffee. He'd relieved Hank forty minutes earlier than he needed to and the man had grinned at him with a nod of thanks as he headed for his bedroll.

Joe rubbed a hand across his face as he walked. He'd always been light on his feet, but Candy had taught him to move in a manner that was almost soundless. It was how they had first met, all those years ago when Candy walked into their camp and asked for a can of peaches. Joe allowed himself a small smile as he recalled the surprised faces and quick accusations. The fact Candy was an army brat gave him an edge of irreverence that had stirred the beginnings of their friendship.

He paused and looked up at the clouds as they scudded across the moon. He felt a shiver run the length of his spine and he shook himself as if he could shake off the memory of another night under another moon. A dark night that had concealed the men who crept into their camp, aiming to steal from them.

They were so close to home that first night and he'd given in to his children's pleas to ride out with them and camp for the night before the herd moved on to the railhead. He knew he was getting past the point of needing or wanting to ride with the herd, but he also knew how he'd yearned to go when he was a kid and his father and brothers rode out. If only he'd been stronger and said no. Then Candy would still be alive and he wouldn't be running from the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him.

Joe was scouting out the area when he heard a single shot ring out in the darkness followed by a strangled cry. He thought for a moment that he had imagined it, but he heard shouts as he raced towards the camp. He could make out men wrestling and trading punches, but against the glare of the fire, he couldn't clearly see who it was. Suddenly a smaller figure sprang up from the ground and he knew without thinking that it had to be Joseph. The boy was kicking at the leg of one of the men while his uncle wrestled against his attacker's grasp around his shoulders, pinning his arms to his side.

Joe surged forward and pulled the boy clear of the fray before turning to help Ethan. He lifted the butt of his rifle to knock the other man down and was satisfied to see him stay down. Across the other side of the fire, Morris had dropped to the ground and was staring into the barrel of a gun when Ethan charged. He threw the other man sideways and slammed him into the wagon before delivering a knockout punch. Morris began to scramble to his feet and rushed to see that Ethan had the man under control.

As Joe turned back to find where Joseph had got to, he noted the first man raising an arm and pointing his pistol towards the boy.

"Damn you, kid."

Joe reacted without thinking and pushed the stunned boy sideways. He felt the bite as a bullet ploughed into his thigh and he stumbled to the ground while trying to swing his rifle into a firing position. Before he could line up for a shot, somebody beat him to it and his attacker dropped like a stone.

"You alright?"

Joe nodded as he tried to pull himself into a more upright position. He felt Morris grasp his shirt and pull him to his feet and his leg almost buckled under him. Morris wrapped an arm under his shoulder and pulled him closer to the fire before settling him on his bedroll.

Joe looked around and for the first time, realised who had attacked them. It made no sense as both Jacob and Matt were sprawled in the dirt. Matt was clearly dead and his father was tied to the wagon wheel by his wrists. Just across from where he was sitting, Joe saw Hank was still in his bedroll. He shuffled across to reach out towards him and was stunned to feel the blanket was wet with blood.

"Joseph!"

Joe looked up at the sound of his name before realising it wasn't him being spoken to.

"Joseph!" Ethan grasped the boy by the shoulders and shook him again.

"Uncle Ethan, I tried to …" His words stuck as he stared at the bodies lying across the camp.

Ethan cupped the side of his face and pulled the boy's gaze back towards him. "It's alright. You're alright, Joseph."

Without warning, Joseph flung himself at his uncle and wrapped his arms around his waist. Ethan leaned down and pulled the boy towards him, acutely aware of just how close he had come to losing him. Finally, he pushed the boy back from him and ran his hands along his arms.

"Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?"

Joseph shook his head and pointed at the body lying on the ground. "He was gonna shoot me, but …"

"But Cartwright here stopped him." Morris was crouched in front of Joe examining his leg. "And took a bullet for his troubles."

Ethan turned back towards them with Joseph tucked against his side. "Thank you."

He pulled the boy away from the body behind them and settled him on his bedroll. Joseph was shaking and Ethan pushed him down and smoothed his hair from his eyes. "Get some sleep. Everything's going to be alright."

Joe clamped his mouth shut as Morris cut away the blood-soaked cloth from his leg and prodded at the hole. He hoped there was another hole to match on the other side, but he saw Morris shake his head.

"That slug needs to come out."

"Figured that already."

"Sorry we haven't got any whiskey for you, but Ethan said this was a dry run. No drinking on the job."

Joe grasped at the man's wrist and nodded towards where Ethan was still crouched over his nephew. "You leave this 'til morning. And you get the kid away from here before you start."

Morris shook his head again. "That bullet needs to come out."

Joe squeezed his wrist harder. "You can't see what you're digging for and this is gonna get messy. The kid doesn't need to see it. Or hear it."

Morris saw the clenched jaw and nodded in begrudging admiration. He was right. The kid had dealt with enough for one night, but the cost was going to be high.

"This could get a whole lot worse for you if we don't dig it out tonight."

"Worse than it could be with you diggin' a hole in the dark?" Joe glared at him as if daring him to try.

By the next morning, Joe was beginning to regret his decision. He'd slept on and off and each time he'd woken, he'd had to clamp down on his glove to keep himself quiet. His leg throbbed as he tried to sit up in his bedroll and he groaned as a hand clamped down on his shoulder. A mug of coffee waved in front of his face and he gratefully took a gulp.

"All right. Ethan's gonna take the kid out of sight and you and me are gonna have a go at that leg."

Joe looked around the camp and noted that Hank and his bedroll were gone. Morris saw where he was looking and he thumbed over his shoulder. "Ethan buried him last night. Didn't want the kid waking up to two dead bodies."

As he looked across the fire, Joe saw Ethan crouched down in front of Jacob who was still firmly tied to the wagon wheel. Even from that distance, Joe could see the side of the man's face was a mass of swollen and bruised flesh and he winced.

"Easy there. Ethan sent me looking for some flowers at first light. Says he made some kind of Indian brew he reckons will take the edge off when we get started on this leg. Not a proper anaesthetic, mind you, but it will help. John Taylor's full of useful remedies like that."

"John Taylor?" Joe's head was just catching up with the rest of him as he swirled the remains of his coffee in the mug before ditching the dregs in the dirt.

"Indian friend of Ethan's. Lives up the hills above Paradise. At least, I think he does."

Joe watched as Morris pushed the blade of a knife into the flames and laid some strips of bandaging on a rock beside him. He heard Ethan say something to Morris about the need to get moving and he closed his eyes against what he knew was coming.

Joseph's feet felt like lead as his uncle directed him away from the camp. Ethan had his rifle laid across his arm in a way that looked casual enough to an observer, but Joseph knew better. His uncle was tensed, ready for action and he wondered if there was another threat.

Before he could ask any questions, he heard the man's muffled scream and then silence. Ethan had a firm grasp on his shoulder and he flinched as the sound carried again.

"Uncle Ethan." Joseph sucked in a sharp breath as he paused.

"Yes, Joseph."

"Is he gonna be okay?" Joseph felt tears welling in his eyes as he wondered if the man who'd saved his life was going to pay for it with his own.

"He'll be fine. Morris just needs to get that bullet out and he'll be fine."

"Have you … have you ever been shot?" It wasn't like the boy didn't know his uncle's former profession, but he stared up at the man who seemed invincible.

Ethan nodded at him and then looked back towards the camp. Too many times to want to recall.

It would be another twenty minutes before Ethan deemed it was safe to return to camp and he was relieved to see Morris give him a tight smile when he spotted them. Joe was out cold, but that didn't surprise him. Morris wasn't a doctor and that knife wasn't a scalpel. Still, the bandage wrapped tightly around Joe's leg only had a small bloodstain where it had seeped through already and he hoped that would be good news.

Morris stood up and glanced at Joseph as if weighing his words. "He should be okay to travel if we lay him out in the back of the wagon. You can put Jacob on a horse and I'll drive the wagon."

Ethan nodded in agreement. He didn't want to be moving the injured man so soon, but they couldn't afford to delay by sitting in the middle of the valley floor. Based on what Jacob had told him, the marshal in Redding was waiting for them and could easily send out men to find them and finish the job he'd started. He needed to get them there before that happened.

Joe barely stirred as the two men lifted him into the bed of the wagon and wrapped a blanket over him. It would be another couple of hours before he woke up and felt the raw ache in his leg. He looked up at the cloudless sky overhead and felt the sway of the wagon beneath him and groaned as he tried to sit up.

"Stay still." The voice floated over his head and Joe frowned as he tried to figure who was driving the wagon. It took a few minutes before Morris pulled up the team and climbed over into the wagon towards him. "How are you doin' there?"

"Seen better days," Joe winced as he tried again to sit up. His leg screamed at him in protest and before he knew it, Morris pressed a mug filled with some more of the foul-smelling liquid towards his mouth.

"Drink this. Trust me, it stinks, but it works."

Joe eyed him suspiciously as he nodded in encouragement. He swallowed the liquid and burped as it almost came back up on him.

"Yep. It does that to me too."

"Smells like something Hop Sing would have once made up to punish me with."

"Hop Sing?"

Joe closed his eyes as a wave of nausea rushed over him. He wasn't sure if it was the foul brew or the depth of memory that threatened to engulf him. He felt Morris' hand on his shoulder as he pushed it all back down.

Ethan pulled his horse in alongside the wagon and studied Joe's face. He'd once talked of a Chinese man who cared for him and his family. Almost as if he was family. So how did he end up out here, so far from that family he'd talked so much about?

Morris eased Joe back down and climbed back over into the driver's seat. Ethan pulled around next to him as they began to move out again. "How's he doing?"

"He'll live. Not sure we've got enough of that stuff of John Taylor's to last us to Redding, but I can ration it out."

Ethan frowned as he looked at the road ahead. They were still a long way from where he wanted to be, having lost so much time the day before.