Josh might have kicked himself if his leg hadn’t still been throbbing from where Lee had walloped him during their scuffle. If his brothers could see him now, standing here squared off against this puny kid, he’d be the laughingstock of the Stafford family. It was one thing to be the one making the jokes, but he didn’t like being on the receiving end.
He refocused his thoughts on the boy in front of him. The kid couldn’t be more than five foot four. Lee’s faded blue shirt hung loose, shoulders sagging. The cuffs had been torn off, probably because they would have hung clear past his fingertips otherwise. Ragged dingy blue pants held up with a frayed rope belt dragged on the ground.
The kid had guts all right, but deep in those big brown eyes, Josh recognized fear and vulnerability. He could never shoot this boy.
“Lee, put the rifle down. I told you, I mean you no harm.” With one hand held up in surrender, Josh took a chance and lowered his pistol. “See, I’m gonna put my gun away.”
Just like the mantel clock in the parlor at home, Josh’s heart pounded out the seconds as they ticked by. The creek’s peaceful rippling and the birds singing their cheerful serenade seemed out of place in light of the tense standoff. As Josh lowered his gun into the holster, from somewhere behind him he heard a noise. A human cough.
With a skill earned by years of practice, Josh whipped out the pistol again. He spun around and scanned the area, listening for human sounds. For a full hour, he’d watched the kid from the cliff above and seen no other signs of life, not even a horse. He still didn’t see anything except for a pitiful old mule munching grass in the shadow of a huge oak tree.
“Is everything okay, Ray?”
Josh stiffened at the gravelly voice. There was another person here, maybe two. The man had called for Ray. Squinting, Josh stared into the shaded area next to the cliff. He saw a small lean-to with a man lying inside. He took a step toward the man but stopped suddenly when something jabbed his side.
“You can stop right there,” Lee hissed.
Closing his eyes tightly, Josh berated himself for his carelessness. In all his twenty-one years, he’d never been on the wrong end of a rifle. He could probably wrestle it away from the boy, but he didn’t want to get shot in the process.
“All right, kid, I’m putting my gun down. Just don’t get trigger-happy.”
Josh squatted and laid his revolver on the ground. He stood and slowly turned to face Lee. “Now what?”
“Back up.” Lee jerked the end of the rifle through the air, motioning him back.
When Josh had moved halfway to where the man lay, Lee stepped forward. Never taking his eyes off him, the boy squatted and picked up the gun. Josh narrowed his eyes. This might be his best chance to take the kid since he couldn’t shoot the heavy rifle one-handed and Josh’s revolver was most likely too heavy for him also.
“What’s going on out there? Ray, you okay?” the man’s raspy voice called again.
“Nothing, Grandpa. Everything’s fine.”
Grandpa. So the kid had an old man with him, hurt or sick from the sound of him. What happened? And where were their horses? Josh glanced around but still didn’t see signs of them. Surely they had more sense than to travel cross-country with just that old mule.
“There’s no one else here, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Lee volunteered.
“So, who’s Ray?”
“I am,” the kid said.
Josh narrowed his eyes. “But you said your name was Lee.”
For a fraction of a second, something akin to panic flashed across Lee’s face. His pursed lips and furrowed brow betrayed the inner struggle taking place. Josh wondered what he was hiding.
“Don’t you have two names? Grandpa calls me Ray, but Lee is my middle name. You can call me whatever you want. It doesn’t really matter.”
“Okay, kid. How ’bout I call you Peewee?”
Lee’s eyes flashed with outrage. “Stop grinning like a possum.”
With effort, Josh forced the smile from his face. “So, where are your horses?”
Josh stared at the boy. If he wasn’t mistaken, the kid blushed … or maybe he was flushed from their tussle and all those clothes he wore.
“Gone,” Lee whispered. His lips pursed into a thin line.
“Did you say gone?” To lose your horse in this part of the country could be deadly. Josh bit back his retort when he looked at Lee. The kid seemed to be on the verge of tears. Josh didn’t handle tears well.
“Umm …” Lee sucked in a ragged breath and straightened. “Grandpa’s horse had a run-in with a rattlesnake. Scared her so bad, she reared and threw him, then ran off. I jumped off my horse to check on Grandpa, and mine followed his. The only one I managed to hang on to was our pack mule. I know it’s stupid.” With Josh’s gun in his hand, Lee tapped his hat back down and looked off in the distance. He murmured, “I think Grandpa’s leg is broken.”
The weight of both the gun and rifle was taking its toll on Lee’s thin arms. His head hung down, and he stirred a circle in the dirt with the toe of his holey sock. Every few seconds, Lee would glance up at Josh and raise the rifle as if to hold him back. Then, slowly, the rifle would drift toward the ground again.
Josh’s heart ached for the boy. Coming from a large family, he couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to be stranded out there with only an injured old man for companionship. He wanted to help them, but first he had to gain the kid’s confidence.
“At least you hung on to the most important thing. You managed to save your supplies and your rifle. I’d say that’s rather smart.” Keeping his eye on the rifle, Josh took a deep breath and slowly closed the space between the two of them. He laid his hand on Lee’s shoulder. The kid shrugged it away but not before Josh caught a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Lee,” Josh spoke in a calm, soothing voice, like he’d use on a spooked horse. “I can help you and your grandpa if you let me. You can’t stay out here alone. My family has a big ranch, and we can put you two up ’til your grandpa mends. My grandma’s done a fair share of doctoring in her time. I’m sure she can help your grandpa.”
Lee shook his head, but his expression softened. He was wavering.
“I have a big family, and we’re God-fearing folk. You’ll be safe with us.” The kid’s eyebrows quirked up at his comment. Obviously something he’d said hit home. “Think of your grandpa. If he does have a broken leg, we have medicine for the pain. He’s probably hurtin’ real bad. C’mon, let me help you.”
Biting his bottom lip, the kid looked toward his grandpa for a long moment then back to Josh. His coffee-colored eyes penetrated clear into Josh’s soul, as if searching for some truth to cling to. With a long sigh, he glanced away. When Lee looked back, his face was steeled with resolve. He nodded his head. Once. Barely discernible. Lee lowered his rifle and Josh’s gun.
Josh realized he’d been holding his breath and released a loud sigh. For a moment, he thought he’d have to fight to get the weapons. He plastered his ever-present grin back in place, and Lee’s expression darkened. With a sizzling glare, the kid slammed Josh’s gun back into his hand.
I like your spunk, kid. Josh chuckled to himself and shook his head as he watched Lee snatch up his boots and march toward his grandpa.