Zeke flung himself off Mrs Hartman’s horse, threw the reins off and hurled towards Jude’s open door.
‘Jesus Christ,’ he hissed at the sight of blood on the floor. There was a trail under his feet. Another trail was headed in the opposite direction out the back door. Then he saw the knife. His brother’s boning knife, dull under red smears.
Jude? Where—
A cough. Out the back door. Then he heard a voice, wheezing, ‘Dammit.’
‘Jude, it’s me, Zeke,’ he called out, sidestepping the drying blood. He edged to the back wall, now not sure it was his brother outside, and not sure if whoever it was had a gun. Just then his boot landed on something soft. He’d squashed a pie of some sort. ‘Judah?’ Taking a breath, he sidled into the doorway and chanced a look outside.
Slumped with his back against the wall, there was Jude; his face was white but he was alive. He was breathing. There wasn’t any more blood streaming from him.
‘Took your time.’
‘I just knew you’d say that.’ Zeke dropped to his knees. ‘Where’s the cut?’
‘On this side, lower back,’ Jude said between breaths. ‘Hope he didn’t nick anything important. Bled like a bastard.’
Zeke eased an arm behind Jude’s shoulders and pulled him forward. ‘Mrs Hartman strap you up?’ He could see the blood had stopped running, and that the patch of cloth, while soaked, had also begun to dry off.
Jude nodded. ‘Fine job. Nice pies, too.’ He held an uneaten pie on his lap.
‘Naught wrong with you if you’re thinking of your stomach.’ Zeke studied the cloth stuffed against the wound and the belt wrapped around his brother’s waist. It should stay there until Giff brought Dr Smith. ‘What are you doing outside?’ He helped settle his brother as comfortably as he could, then slid down against the wall until he was on his arse beside him.
‘Didn’t want to stay sat in me own blood. Managed it, bit weak, but I feel all right.’
‘Like I’m convinced of that. Giff’s gone for the doc.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You know who did it?’ Zeke asked, swiping a forearm under his nose.
‘The dead boy’s pa.’
‘Curtis Goody?’
‘That’s him,’ Jude wheezed. ‘Bastard came back, crept up on me sayin’ he knows George had money and papers that belonged to the family. He said he was gonna go look for George’s belongings, that maybe they’d been hid somewhere. Accused me of stealin’.’
Christ. He’s looking for something? Zeke had already taken Goody to where George was buried. On his own property … Would he want to go there again?
It’d have to wait. Zeke wouldn’t leave Judah, not at least until the doctor had come. Still, he’d left his two younger kids at his place, on their own with Lily. But if Giff got the doc, it wouldn’t be long before they’d be here. Maybe a half-hour at the most. He checked the sky. Still plenty of daylight, three or more hours. As soon as his boy arrived, and the doctor reckoned Jude was all right for an hour or two, he and Giff would head home.
First thing Zeke’d do was notify the troopers. Wrong. Second thing. The first was making sure his kids were all right. After the troopers, then he’d go after this bastard himself. Jesus, what was the rest of the family like if this was the father? But he hadn’t picked up anything nasty about them from George: not about his father and especially not about one of his sisters from the way the lad had sobbed for her. Zeke wished he’d caught her name properly.
He checked Jude again. He was trying to raise his arm to take a bite of the pie. Zeke took the pie, broke off a piece and angled it into his brother’s mouth. Jude chewed slowly.
Zeke asked, ‘So what happened?’ He sat the remainder of the pie in Jude’s lap.
‘Don’t really know. I told him I knew nothin’ about whatever the lad had with him, that I was still away when my brother found him, and to get the hell off my land.’ Jude stopped to catch his breath.
Jude had just told Curtis Goody that he’d been away when George was found. At the gravesite Zeke had told Goody that his brother had found George. Wouldn’t take a genius to figure out there was a third brother, or that possibly someone was lying. Either way, Zeke would have to find Nebo before this madman did. George had touched them all.
Jude was staring at the little pie in his lap. ‘What was Lily Hartman doing here?’
Zeke glanced at him. ‘She tends your girls’ graves when you go off on your little wanderings.’
Jude let out a deep sigh, closed his eyes. ‘Was she all right when she got to you?’
‘Out of breath. Unhappy. Why?’ Zeke jolted upright. ‘Was she here when—’
‘No, but next thing after I got the knife in me back, he’s headed up the track to where the graves are.’ Jude looked at Zeke. ‘Then I’m waked up by Lily who’s standing over me. If she was at the graves, she mighta seen him.’
So, Mrs Hartman, as well, might be in his sights. Zeke tapped his thigh, thought of Gifford. Come on, lad. Come on. Hurry up. He leaned over and peered at his brother’s side. No fresh blood. But move that swabbing and who knows what’d happen. Sweat broke over his forehead. He took off his hat and sat it on his brother’s head. ‘Wait there.’
Jude gave an amused grunt. ‘Funny.’
Zeke tramped inside, found Jude’s hat on the hook behind the door. He stared out the window in the direction he knew Giff would be coming. Dust was rising from the track. That’d be his boy, for sure. Back outside, he replaced Jude’s hat for his and clamped on his own. ‘You could have picked a shady spot.’
‘Could have. Meant to build that lean-to, but never got ’round to it.’
‘Never did.’ Zeke squatted again. ‘We’ll get it done the next few months. My kids are keen for it.’
‘They’re good kids. Those boys are a chip off your block. And that Gracie, mind of her own, that one.’ Jude sucked in air, winced. ‘Hold ’em close, Zeke. There’s nothin’ more important. Once they’re gone, there’s no gettin’ them back.’
Zeke’s chest expanded and tears sprang. ‘I know it, Jude.’ He pressed a hand to his brother’s shoulder. He swallowed down the pressure in his throat. ‘Nothing comes before my kids.’ Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he aimed a thumb over his own shoulder. ‘And I reckon that’s Giff coming up the track not a mile off. Not long to go now, old mate. Then we’ll clean up here, get you home to mine.’ He stared at his brother whose eyes had closed, and his heart gave a solid thump. ‘Jude?’