Outlawed(61)

“No offense,” Agnes Rose added to Lark.

“None taken,” he said. “I’m not stupid.”

“You’re funny,” Agnes Rose said. “Piece of advice: don’t try to be funny with the others. Especially not Cassie. They’re not going to like us bringing you home, and the quieter you are, the better.”

Lark’s wound was smaller than mine—a graze along his left thigh—but I could tell from his face that he was in pain. Texas, who rode ahead of us on Faith, had been against bringing Lark to Hole in the Wall, and had only been persuaded when News had vouched for him. Now Lark rode behind Agnes Rose on Prudence, bleeding into his boot, both of us awaiting the Kid’s final decision on whether he should stay or go.

Through the fog of my injury—my wound had stopped bleeding, but the whiskey, water, and pemmican News had offered me had only partially restored my strength—I could tell that something was troubling Agnes Rose. Her voice was loud with artificial cheer, and her words increased in frequency and decreased in importance as we drew closer to Hole in the Wall, as though she was trying to fill the silence.

Finally, as we rounded the last bend in the road and the bunkhouse came into view, she said, “The Kid’s been a little ill lately.”

“Ill how?” I asked.

“Bloodshot eyes, never sleeping. And then—” She paused. “That’s the main thing. Just not sleeping very much. Maybe you can help.”

I didn’t tell Agnes Rose I had already been helping the Kid sleep, or that her words made the back of my neck prickle with dread. I remembered the story of the Kid’s father, shut away in the house with the curtains drawn until he could preach again.

“There’s something else,” I said.

“Last night,” Agnes Rose said, “the Kid lit a suit on fire.”

I wasn’t sure I understood. “What suit?”

“Well,” said Agnes Rose, “the Kid was wearing a fine woolen suit, and then the Kid lit that suit on fire.”

“Mother Mary,” I said.

“Everyone else had gone to bed, and the Kid started telling me about what we’d do when the job was done. It started out normal enough—like how we’d need to get the people in Fiddleback on our side. But then it got strange. The Kid was talking about how once we took Fiddleback, then we could take Casper, then Telluride, then Chicago. We’d remake America, the Kid said, but we’d do it right, and no Flu or fever would harm us, because we’d be protected by God.”

I tried to be careful, so as not to give the Kid’s secret away.

“That does sound strange,” I said. “Did the Kid say how we were going to accomplish all that?”

“No,” said Agnes Rose. “I asked, and the Kid accused me of doubting. Then the Kid said we’d accomplish it as we accomplished everything, through the power of the infant Lord Jesus. And that if I didn’t believe, perhaps I needed a sign of His favor. And before I could do anything, the Kid simply dipped an arm into the fire.

“I think the point was to show that even flames were powerless against us. But of course, they aren’t. And as soon as the sleeve caught it was like a spell was broken, and the Kid looked at me in absolute terror.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“Luckily I had a blanket about my shoulders. I leapt on the Kid and rolled the arm up until the fire went out. The Kid made me promise not to tell anyone. The burn isn’t bad—I bandaged it myself, though you’ll want to check it for infection. But the rest of it—I’ve seen the Kid do and say a lot of outlandish things, Ada. But I’ve never seen anything like this.”

It was evening when we arrived, and the others were circled around the firepit eating tin cups of stew. As soon as we came into view with a stranger in our midst, Cassie and the Kid rose to meet the horses. Cassie, as Agnes Rose had predicted, looked angry and suspicious, but the Kid seemed strong and at ease, a bandage peeking out of a shirtsleeve the only sign that anything was amiss.

“This is Lark,” I said. “He helped us steal the wagon, and he kept me from bleeding to death when we were in jail. He’s hurt, and he needs rest. Can he stay here a few days with us?”

“Doing a job with him is one thing,” Cassie said, “but bringing him here? News, what were you thinking? We’ve never had a man here before.”

“What does that matter?” News asked. “Out in the world, I’m as much a man as he is. I don’t see you kicking me out.”

“News, you know what I mean,” Cassie said.

“I don’t,” News said. “We needed help, I found someone trustworthy to help us. Now he needs our help, and you’re going to turn him away?”

“Is he really trustworthy?” Cassie asked. “What reason does he have not to lead some sheriff or bounty hunter right to our doorstep as soon as it suits him?”

“You don’t understand—” I said.

But before I could finish the Kid shouted, “Stop!” loudly enough that Lo and Elzy looked up startled from the firepit. I saw fear cross Cassie’s face. But when the Kid spoke again, the words were measured and calm.

“Sir, I want to hear from you,” the Kid said to Lark. “Surely you understand why some of us might have difficulty trusting you. What do you have to say for yourself?”