Wax nodded toward the fallen man beside the wall to distract her from the letter. “Your work?”
“He had a bow,” she said. “Stone arrowheads. Almost had you from above.”
“Thanks.”
She shrugged, eyes glittering in satisfaction. Those eyes now had lines at the sides of them, weathered by the Roughs’ harsh sunlight. There had been a time when she and Wax had kept a tally of who had saved the other most often. They’d both lost track years ago.
“Cover me,” Wax said softly.
“With what?” she asked. “Paint? Kisses? You’re already covered with dust.”
Wax raised an eyebrow at her.
“Sorry,” she said, grimacing. “I’ve been playing cards too much with Wayne lately.”
He snorted and ran in a crouch to the fallen corpse and rolled it over. The man had been a cruel-faced fellow with several days of stubble on his cheeks; the bullet wound bled out his right side. I think I recognize him, Wax thought to himself as he went through the man’s pockets and came out with a drop of red glass, colored like blood.
He hurried back to the fence.
“Well?” Lessie asked.
“Donal’s crew,” Wax said, holding up the drop of glass.
“Bastards,” Lessie said. “They couldn’t just leave us to it, could they?”
“You did shoot his son, Lessie.”
“And you shot his brother.”
“Mine was self-defense.”
“Mine was too,” she said. “That kid was annoying. Besides, he survived.”
“Missing a toe.”
“You don’t need ten,” she said. “I have a cousin with four. She does just fine.” She raised her revolver, scanning the empty town. “Of course, she does look kind of ridiculous. Cover me.”
“With what?”
She just grinned and ducked out from behind the cover, scrambling across the ground toward the smithy.
Harmony, Wax thought with a smile, I love that woman.
He watched for more gunmen, but Lessie reached the building without any further shots being fired. Wax nodded to her, then dashed across the street toward the hotel. He ducked inside, checking the corners for foes. The taproom was empty, so he took cover beside the doorway, waving toward Lessie. She ran down to the next building on her side of the street and checked it out.
Donal’s crew. Yes, Wax had shot his brother—the man had been robbing a railway car at the time. From what he understood, though, Donal hadn’t ever cared for his brother. No, the only thing that riled Donal was losing money, which was probably why he was here. He’d put a price on Bloody Tan’s head for stealing a shipment of his bendalloy. Donal probably hadn’t expected Wax to come hunting Tan the same day he did, but his men had standing orders to shoot Wax or Lessie if seen.
Wax was half tempted to leave the dead town and let Donal and Tan have at it. The thought of it made his eye twitch, though. He’d promised to bring Tan in. That was that.
Lessie waved from the inside of her building, then pointed toward the back. She was going to go out in that direction and creep along behind the next set of buildings. Wax nodded, then made a curt gesture. He’d try to hook up with Wayne and Barl, who had gone to check the other side of the town.
Lessie vanished, and Wax picked his way through the old hotel toward a side door. He passed old, dirty nests made by both rats and men. The town picked up miscreants the way a dog picked up fleas. He even passed a place where it looked like some wayfarer had made a small firepit on a sheet of metal with a ring of rocks. It was a wonder the fool hadn’t burned the entire building to the ground.
Wax eased open the side door and stepped into an alleyway between the hotel and the store beside it. The gunshots earlier would have been heard, and someone might come looking. Best to stay out of sight.
Wax edged around the back of the store, stepping quietly across the red clay ground. The hillside here was overgrown with weeds except for the entrance to an old cold cellar. Wax wound around it, then paused, eyeing the wood-framed pit.
Maybe …