“How will I ever get married and have my own children,” she asked, “if I can’t get away from here? Unless…” She grabbed his arm again.
“I’m a little old for you, Kimmie,” he said, “and I’m not the marrying kind.”
“I guess I’m stuck here, then.”
“Why don’t you just insist that your brothers take you along next time they go to town?” he asked. “Maybe when they take me in?”
“I suppose I could try to insist,” she said, “but Zack always says somebody has to stay home.”
“Well, you’ve got a couple of days,” Lancaster said. “Work on him.”
Nine
After a good night’s sleep and an even better breakfast the next morning, Lancaster pulled on the borrowed boots that used to belong to Kimmie’s father. He stood up, found that they fit pretty well, even though his feet still hurt a bit. The shirt and trousers she had given him were a little small, but not noticeably.
Lancaster left the house and walked over to the barn. He hadn’t gotten much out of Kimmie’s brothers that morning, except some borderline hostile look from Zack. But Kimmie appeared to have gotten her way, and the brothers were prepared to take him to Laughlin in two or three days.
In the barn he found Crow Bait standing easily, chewing on some hay. As he entered, the animal turned his head and gave him a stare, then looked away.
There were four other horses in the barn—two saddle mounts and a team to pull the buckboard. They were all eight years old or more, but sound.
Lancaster was shocked at Crow Bait’s appearance. He’d forgotten how truly bad he looked.
“Wow,” he said, touching the animal’s flank, “you really do look like crow bait.”
He examined the horse, running his hands over him. Aside from seeming frail and knock-kneed, the legs seemed sound enough. His neck seemed too long for his body, and too slender to carry a large head. Lancaster figured that a few weeks of eating regularly would fill that out, make the head and neck look more in proportion. The same with all the bones that seemed to be sticking out here and there. Some extra flesh would smooth them out.
He brushed Crow Bait while the horse continued to chew. His coat was spotty, seemingly worn away in some places, but the flesh beneath seemed unmarked. They could have been just bald spots, and he wondered if the hair there would grow back. Likewise, the tail was thin and ragged. He didn’t know if that would fill back in or not with a steady diet.
“You saved my life,” Lancaster said, stroking the horse’s neck, “so I’m gonna see that you get to live yours.”
By checking the horse’s mouth and teeth, he surmised him to be five or six years old.
“You’ve got plenty of life ahead of you, boy,” Lancaster said. “You’re gonna be well taken care of.”
Crow Bait, unconcerned with his appearance, continued to feed.
Ten
At supper the night before they were to take Lancaster to Laughlin Kimmie said, “Zack, I wanna come with you tomorrow.”
“No.”
“You can’t just say no,” she said.
“Why do you want to go to town?” he asked. “You ain’t never been to town.”
“I been when I was a little girl, but I ain’t been in a long time, and I wanna go.”
“You gotta stay here,” Zack said.
“Why?”
“Somebody’s gotta stay home,” he said.
“Why?” she asked again.
Zack gave Lancaster a hard stare.
“This your doin’?” he demanded.
“Me? I’ve got nothing to do with it.”
“Don’t you dare blame him,” Kimmie said, her eyes flashing. “I’m tired of just stayin’ here all the time, alone, while you and Ryan go off and do God knows what.”
“We’re workin’ when we go away,” Zack said. “You think we’re out there havin’ fun?”
“You can’t be workin’ all the time!” she argued. “You got to be havin’ fun sometime.”
She looked at Ryan, who ducked his head and looked away.
“What if some other drifter drags his ass here lookin’ for help?” Zack asked.
“He’ll hafta help himself,” Kimmie said. “I’m comin’ to town!”
Zack stared at her. He must have seen something in her face that made him say, “Fine, you can come.”
“I can?”
“You ain’t gonna gimme a minute’s peace until I say yes, right?” Zack asked.
“Right.”
“Then get me some more supper and we can stop talkin’ about it.”
She went to the stove happily, while Zack continued to stare at Lancaster unhappily.
“I’m telling you, I had nothing to do with this,” he said again.
Ryan found it funny, but Zack continued to scowl as Kimmie gave him a second helping.
The next morning the brothers hooked the team up to the buckboard, then saddled their mounts. Lancaster and Kimmie climbed into the seat of the buckboard, and—with Crow Bait tied to the back of the buckboard—they left for Laughlin.
Laughlin was bustling when they arrived. There were ruts in the road from the constant traffic. A couple of times the buckboard wheels got crossways of a rut and rattled Lancaster’s ribs.
“Sorry,” Kimmie said.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m gonna drop you in front of the doctor’s office,” she said. “That is, if it’s where I remember it bein’.”
“I don’t have the money to pay a doctor,” he said. “Just drop me in front of the hotel.”
“If you can’t pay the doc, how do you plan to pay for a hotel room?”
“I’m supposed to have a job waiting here for me,” Lancaster said. “I’m late, but maybe it’s still waiting. I can get an advance.”
“Then you can see Doc,” she said. “He’s a nice old fella who comes out by us a lot. He’ll wait for his money. And we’ll drop your horse at the livery for ya.”
“Okay, then,” Lancaster said. “The doctor’s.”
“Ribs ain’t broke,” Dr. Murphy said, “but they’re sure as hell sore. Put your shirt back on.”
As Lancaster donned his borrowed shirt, the doctor looked at his feet.
“Cuts and blisters. The cut over your eye may scar, but somebody cleaned ’em real well.”
“A girl named Kimmie.”
“Kimmie Castle?” the doctor said.
“I guess,” Lancaster said. “Is there another girl with two brothers named Ryan and Zack?”
“Nope,” the doctor said, “them’s the Castle family, all right.”
“Well, my horse carried me to their ranch, and they took me in for a few days.”
The doctor chuckled. “Bet Zack wasn’t happy about that.”
“He wasn’t, but Kimmie got her way.”
The doctor laughed again, shaking his head. “She usually does.”
The doctor looked into Lancaster’s eyes.
“Kicks to the head don’t seem to have done much damage,” he said. “You got a hard head, boy?”
“Pretty hard.”
“Guess that saved ya,” the older man said. “You seem okay to me. Pull your boots back on and come into my office.”
Lancaster pulled on the boots and got to his feet, limped a bit as he walked into the doctor’s office.
“What about my memory?” he asked the doctor.
“It’s patchy, right?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s from being kicked in the head,” Murphy said. “It should come back.”
“Should?”
“Might.”
“I liked should better.”
“We don’t know that much about these kinds of injuries, Mr. Lancaster,” the doctor said. “Your memory of the incident should return.”