The Outlaw's Return

Bessie finished checking for broken bones then looked into Augustus’s eyes. She held up three fingers. “How many do you see?”

The boy held up his hand to indicate three.

“Good,” Bessie replied Mary thought of the red-streaked vomit. “I’m worried.” She indicated the bowl. “What about the blood?”

“It’s from the nosebleed.”

Fear drained from her muscles, leaving her limp. “So he’s going to be all right?”

“I’d say so.” Bessie looked at Augustus. “You took quite a beating, young man. I think you fainted from shock. Your ribs are badly bruised, and you’re going to have a black eye. We’ll get ice for that in a minute. I’m also going to bind up your ribs.”

“Th-th-thank—” He bit his lip.

“You’re welcome,” Bessie replied. “You should stay in bed for a few days, then you can move around as much as you’re able.” The nurse patted his skinny shoulder, then left to fetch the wrapping for his ribs.

Mary took Bessie’s place on the chair. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

Her brother looked down at his feet. She’d never seen him look so defeated. Had he been bullied because of his speech? It seemed likely. He’d been teased about his stammering all his life, but people in Frog’s Landing had known him. In Denver, a city populated by strangers, he’d become an outcast.

J.T. crossed the room. When he reached boy’s side, he offered his hand. “Hello, Augustus. We met, but you might not remember. I’m J. T. Quinn.”

“I—I remember.”

Augustus took the man’s hand and shook. Mary had never seen her brother do anything so grown up, or J.T. do anything so kind.

Augustus tried to sit up, but J.T. nudged him flat. “Don’t torture those ribs. I’ve busted mine a couple of times. It hurts a lot.”

The boy nodded vigorously.

J.T. pulled a side chair from the wall and positioned it next to hers at an angle where Augustus could see him. He dropped down on the seat and hunkered forward. “We gotta talk, kid.”

Figuring J.T. didn’t know about the stutter, Mary cringed for her brother. “He has trouble speaking.”

“I know that.”

“You don’t understand,” she continued. “He—”

“He’s fine.” J.T. kept his eyes on Augustus. “All things considered, you handled yourself well.”

In Mary’s experience, her brother turned into jelly when kids bullied him. She looked at J.T., then wished she hadn’t. They were side by side, so close she could smell the bay rum on his newly scraped jaw. When she’d seen him earlier, he’d been unshaven and reeking of whiskey and sweat. Now he looked presentable. More than presentable. Blinking, she recalled the man she’d met backstage in Abilene, the handsome stranger who’d pursued her with a look.

J.T. met her gaze and held it, signaling her with a mild glint to be quiet. She bristled, then realized he knew far more about the episode than she did. She didn’t understand boys at all, and Augustus with his silence presented an even bigger challenge. She knew he needed a man in his life. She’d been asking God to send a grandfatherly sort of man from church, but the prayer had gone unanswered.

When she stayed silent, J.T. turned back to Augustus. His lips tipped into a smile. “There’s nothing I like better than chasing off a bully. Thanks to you, I got to run off three of them.”

When Augustus rolled his eyes, Mary realized J.T. was telling the story for her benefit.

“Yeah, they were big,” he continued. “Mean, too. You’re going to have a glory of a shiner.”

Augustus made a face.

Instead of offering pity, J.T. laughed. “Welcome to the club, kid. You’ll be fine in a few days, but I’ve been wondering… Has this happened before?”

Augustus looked down at his feet. “S-s-sort of.”

Shivers ran down Mary’s spine. “It has to stop. We’ll go to the sheriff.”

J.T. looked exasperated. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“We have to try,” she insisted.

“Fine,” he answered. “But there’s not going to be a deputy in the alley next time Augustus gets waylaid. We need to solve this ourselves.” He’d said we. He didn’t have that right. Her eyes snapped to his profile, but he was looking at her brother. She knew he could feel her gaze. He was dismissing her the way he’d walked out on her in Abilene. She wanted to tell him to leave Swan’s Nest now, but the situation with Augustus complicated everything.

The boy kept his eyes on J.T. “They w-w-ant me to steal from…” he looked at Mary, pleading with her to understand.

She repeated for him. “They want you to steal from…?”

“Y-you!”

“Me?” Her brow wrinkled.

J.T. kept his focus on her brother. “Let me take a stab at this. Those guttersnipes know you’re Mary’s brother, right?”

“Yes,” Augustus managed.

“They know she runs the café.”

The boy nodded.

“They want you to take money out of that cash box she keeps just inside the kitchen.”

Mary frowned at him. “How do you know about that box?”

“I saw it.” His smirk reminded her that he’d ridden with the Carver gang before he’d become a hired gun. J.T. would never steal from her, but he knew how to do it. “You work hard, Mary. Put that box somewhere else.”

“I will.”

He turned back to her brother. “Do you know who these bullies are?”

In fits and starts, he described how they’d cornered him one day when he’d been running an errand. They’d threatened to beat him up unless he brought them five dollars. He refused, and for the past week he’d been afraid to leave the café. Today they’d followed him to Swan’s Nest.

Mary’s heart bled for him. “Sweetie, why didn’t you tell me?”

He jerked his head to the side, but not before she saw hurt in his eyes. She smoothed his hair. “I’ll fix it, Augustus. I promise. I’ll talk to their parents. I’ll—”

“Stay out of it,” J.T. said quietly. “This is your brother’s fight.”

“But he’s so young,” she argued. “And he’s small for his age. He can’t protect himself.”