Part 1 (2/2)

Winn lay very still. He was aware of the smell of moist earth and a strangebuzzing in his ears. He opened his eyes and saw blades of fresh green gra.s.s.Something hard and cold was pressed against his face. A rock, he realized,sticky with his blood. He tried to raise his head, but it was too heavy.

He groaned, at first in defeat and then in pain as he felt himself beingrolled onto his back. His vision went hazy for a second then focused on MikeGrady.

' ”Slim?” he asked, remembering only that the boy was in trouble.”Boss went to pick him up. They're on their way,” Mike said.Winn tried to sort out what must have happened but he couldn't seem to remember. The sound of running hooves came up through the ground and thundered in his head.

”Rosie?”

Mike laughed.

”Naw. She'll be dinner tonight.”

A jolt of pain shot from his head clear through his body and left him gasping for breath.

”I'm sorry, Winn.” Mike's voice sounded far away.”This bleeding's got to stop.”In a moment, the pain became concentrated in his head. Mike was pressing a handkerchief against his forehead. That must have been why he couldn't see

anything; he was trying to focus around the edges of a red bandanna.”How bad is he, Mike?” Winn recognized the voice of the Double M's trailboss. Mike had lifted the handkerchief, but Winn still seemed to be loo kingthrough it. Everything was rimmed with red. There must be some blood in hiseyes, Winn decided.

He didn't see Mike's shrug. Some distant sound was trying to make its wayaround the pain. Concentrating on it made his vision blur.

”Lullaby,” he heard himself whisper.

”Slim, his horse is still tied to that dead cow. Cut her loose,” the boss ordered.

”Take her into camp and send the cook out here with a butch erin' crew.”

”Yes, sir.” The boy's voice was shaky. Winn wanted to volunteer to gethis own horse. He tried to rise, but Mike easily pushed him back to theground.

”You best tie him to a horse and head for Wichita,” he heard the boss say.

”You think that's wise?”

”Well, the wagon'd be as rough a ride and a lot slower. You can't just camphere.”

The sun had come up and was s.h.i.+ning behind the boss. Winn could see the silhouette of the horse and rider. Boss surveyed the area, a familiar habitwhen he was about to make a decision.

”I'll send Slim back with provisions and an extra horse. It's a cinch Sut-ton's not up to handling that crazy mare. She'll cause you both no end oftrouble if you try to take her along.” He wheeled his mount around to head for camp then spoke over his shoulder to Mike.

”You two see that Sutton's cared for, then high-tail it back to the herd. I don't have riders to spare!”

Hooves beat the ground again. They faded away into the pulse of pain inWinn's head. He had no notion of the pa.s.sage of time before the pulse becamethe throb of the earth and the thunder of approaching horses.

Mike began lifting him to his feet.

”Give us a hand, boy,” he said.

”There's blood running in his beard again.” Slim's voice sounded very young.

”It ain't his beard that worries me,” was Mike's response.

Winn pa.s.sed out while they were lifting him onto the horse. He came to on a Double M gelding known for his smooth gait. He found that he could raise his head without much pain. Strange, though, that a morning that had startedout so clear had now turned hazy, he mused.

Mike noticed he was awake and pulled up to rest. ”You ma king it all right?”he asked as he handed Winn a canteen.

”Yeah, I guess. Am I still bleeding?” Blood must be running in his eyes, hethought; the haze was tinted slightly red. He raised his hand to his forehead and felt a lump under a sticky piece of cloth.

”Not much,” Mike said.

”We could stop and eat if you want.”

The thought of food made Winn feel sick.

”How much farther?” he asked.

”Not more than ten miles. I was thin king you might sleep the whole trip.”

”I wish I had.” Winn's head was throbbing and the haze seemed to be gettingdeeper. Slim rode up beside him and straightened him in the saddle before herealized that he had started to lean. Slim looked very pale. It seemed odd,since everything else was turning red. Maybe it was sunset, but he couldfeel the warmth of the sun on his shoulders. Winn closed his eyes, hoping tolessen the pain.

He was aware of the horse moving, aware of the sounds of horses breathing,creaking leather and sometimes startled birds. Time didn't seem to pa.s.s likeit normally did. Surely they were near Wichita by now.

He thought he could hear a strange sort of distorted music. He opened hiseyes to look around and knew he had been dreaming. He was on a dimly litstreet.

There seemed to be a lot of activity for this time of night. Mike was getting directions to the doctor's.

Suddenly he felt foolish for being tied to his horse. He remembered the wound on his forehead; he had forgotten it for a moment. Anyone who saw thathe was tied to the horse could also see that he was hurt.

Slim didn't seem to be having trouble seeing in the dark. He flicked a flyaway from Winn's face.

”It's those buffalo hides that attract the flies,”

Slim said. ”Saw a bunch of them stretched to dry just outside of town.”

”Bet that's what I smell.” Winn had been busy trying to sort out sounds inthe dark, and only now became aware of the pungent smell of drying meat andleather.

As Mike led the way to the doctor, a strange orange blaze became visiblebetween the buildings. Winn stared at it for a moment, though it made hiseyes ache. What kind of fire would make a light like that in the distance?

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