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)
Back in Beaver Springs, he’d seen stereographic images of the magnificent deserts that stretched as far as the eye could see, imposing mesas, and rocks shaped in ways that suggested the photographer might have tampered with the pictures to make them more appealing. But they were real, and Ned hadn’t been prepared for the rich colors of this land, or for the intensely fresh air that smelled like dust sweetened with sage.
It was a marvel, even if a deadly one to those not prepared for a trek through land sparse in water and rich in dangers. Just last night, they’d shot a pair of coyotes, which had had the audacity to approach their camp, and a couple days earlier a black spider the size of his hand crawled into Tessa’s hair at night. The girl had cried about it the following morning, and Ned didn’t blame her, because the hairy-legged fucker was the stuff of nightmares. Craw had been the hero to kill it with his boot, but Tessa’s hair had still suffered for it. She’d had to endure living with bits of the critter left in her locks until a kind man had let them use his well.
After a month on the road, eating what they could catch bulked up with biscuits and the occasional vegetables bought in tiny settlements they’d passed, the fact that they were closing in on an actual town made his heart soar.
Ned had hoped that getting farther away from civilization would aid him and Cole in stealing time together, but as the plant life got sparser, hiding close to the camp became difficult. Water was hard to come by as well, and even Cole, who followed a rigorous regimen when it came to hygiene, had given up on washing anything but his face and hands, so everyone had enough to drink.
Crossing the desert had a detrimental effect on everyone’s body odor, and while most men didn’t care for cleanliness as much as Ned’s lover, some changed underwear more often than usual while the ladies doused themselves in perfume, which sweetened the stink of sweat and grime rather than making it disappear.
Ned exhaled, still pleasantly cool from the dip in the shallow yet clean stream running through the parched land at his feet. Green cottonwoods had been an unexpected sight in the middle of the desert, but Cole claimed their presence meant water, and he hadn’t been mistaken. They were both glad to now smell themselves less. Ned intended to make use of the advantage being scouts gave them and not only bathe again but perhaps enjoy a nice grope before the rest of their party caught up.
As he reached the edge of the elongated mesa and looked into the far-off distance, he spotted a congregation of irregular shapes that made up the settlement he’d heard so much about. The end of the train line. Rich in provisions that had been hard to come by in the past couple of weeks.
The presence of the railway meant jobs, clean booze, and food, but also rooms one could rent. Maybe he and Cole could steal a night together without the necessity of pulling apart for sleep in case someone entered their tent?
Cole had become an anchor that kept Ned from drifting too far away from his true self. He couldn’t find out some details, but accepted Ned the way he was and seemed to cherish the gentler aspects of his personality, unlike Zeb who kept insinuating Ned wasn’t tough enough. Their relationship came with challenges, and was confusing at times, but gave Ned a sense of joy and belonging he’d never experienced. If he played his cards right, maybe their relationship could survive the fall of the gang?
Cole had had a different upbringing, and the rules he lived by were sometimes the polar opposite of Ned’s moral compass, but he had a bright core and would have grown into an honest man if his life hadn’t been so hard. If he laid down his guns, perhaps there was even a future they could share?
Fueled by hope, Ned had been gently planting the seeds of resentment for Tom, because one day he’d need Cole on his side against the murderous bastard. But that wouldn’t happen unless Cole stopped feeling indebted to the Butcher, stopped treating him as a crooked father figure, and saw him for the monster that he was. Unfortunately, Tom had a way of sneaking under people’s skin—a brute who demanded absolute loyalty yet treated everyone to a whole crate of canned peaches after a week of eating roasted rattlesnakes and salt meat.
If Ned had grown up real poor and in a state of constant threat, the protection of someone as bold as Tom might have been appealing too. The villain had clothed and fed Cole, then put guns in Cole’s hands and taught him all there was to brute survival. Made him a soldier who fulfilled the most difficult orders, not out of obligation but the respect of a son who feared yet loved his father.