The Five Dollar Mail Book 3: The Road Home

33: If I Should Ever Come Back

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Storm by Laura Hollingsworth. All graphics by me.

Book 1: The Green, Book 2: Lynch's Boys, Book 3: The Road Home, and the Riders & Kickers Anthology are available on Amazon under the name Regina Shelley. So if you hate waiting for chapter posts and/or want a more polished read, the finished product is available now.

Storm gave Dev a glance as the two of them stood on the packed earth in front of the scout's cabin. It's felt like a lifetime since I stood here looking at this door. Like it was someone else. I suppose, in a way, it was. He could hear voices inside, and the lilting cadence of his native Absaroka tongue. Nervousness and fond nostalgia surged inside his chest, and he didn't know which was the stronger of the emotions. Dev shrugged, grunting and gesturing at the door.

Storm held up his hand, intending to rap his knuckles on the battered wooden door. It suddenly swung open, and an old Absaroka man stood in the doorway, looking them both over. He wore a threadbare black bowler, and his hair hung in silver braids over his faded flannel shirt.

"I thought that was you," the old man intoned, stepping aside and waving him and Dev inside the cabin. "Makes my heart good to see you, Lights the Storm."

"Many Stars." Storm broke into a broad smile at the sight of the elder. "You're the only thing I have missed about this place."

"Still here." The old man clapped a welcoming hand onto Storm's shoulder as he entered.

"I'm glad." Storm turned and addressed Dev. "This is Many Stars. Many Stars, this is Francis Deveraux. He works with me.

Many Stars nodded, shaking Dev's hand. "This is Wounded," he said, as a sturdy, middle-aged man with grim, sharp features and long, salt-and-pepper hair nodded in greeting. "He replaced you when you left. And this is Lundy Bad Medicine."

The grinning man reaching for his hand was young, and Storm thought he must have been about the same age as he himself was when he left Fort Bridger to go work for Mr. Lynch. There was a ruddy cast to his long, black-brown hair, and his face was spangled with freckles as if he'd been splashed with rusty water. "I heard you used to work here," he said, his eyes laughing. "Why the hell would anyone come back here after they'd managed to get away?"

If I had a son... Storm stopped himself, startled at the unbidden thought that had come to his mind at the sight of Bad Medicine's russet complexion. If I had a son...he might look like this. His parents or grandparents must have... Storm forced himself to relax, to push the thought away. It wasn't a thought he needed to be contemplating here or now. They will know, he thought irrationally. They'll see it. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We don't plan to stay long."

Dev sighed, shaking hi head. "Planned to just fetch our crew and head back. Your Captain's got other plans."

"Yes, he does," Storm said. "He sent us here to bunk with you scouts. We're sorry for the intrusion...we hadn't planned on staying. We can bunk down outside if..."

Wounded shook his head. "You will both stay with us. I know there will be stories of 'how it was before' from you and Many Stars tonight." He chuckled, easing himself down on the bench by the stove.

"Thank you," Dev nodded. "What's going on out here that's got Scarcliff's pants in a twist? I know what he said, but...I'd rather hear it from you. Is it as bad as he says?"

Bad Medicine shrugged. "It's far east for Paiutes. But yeah. There have been stations attacked farther and farther up the trail."

Many Stars gave him a grim look. "Antelope Springs burned."

Dev sat down heavily in a chair, running his fingers through his tangled beard. His wooly brows knitted themselves together across his forehead. "That must have just happened."

"It did." Lundy nodded. "You were most likely on the road here when it was going on."

Storm leaned back against the closed door, rubbing his temples with the heel of his hands. "This is crazy."

"The woman who came here asked us a lot of questions, too," Wounded said. "She knows something's going on."

"She's sharper than she lets on," Many Stars said in agreement. "I spoke plainly to her. Is she your employer's daughter?"

Storm must have reacted. He tried not to, but he knew he must have. He saw Many Stars' eyes on his face, and he fought to remain impassive. "That's Lynch's niece, Fiona Lewis-Smythe."

Many Stars' face remained neutral, but he exchanged a brief glance with Wounded. Storm felt a flush of heat rise through him, and cursed himself. These men have eyes that see through stone.

"She's the most beautiful woman I think I've ever seen," Lundy said. He raised an eyebrow at Storm. "I'd have left here, too, if it meant she'd be cooking my breakfast every morning.."

Storm winced, inwardly cringing. He glanced at Dev, who was picking at something on the front of his shirt and inspecting his nails. No help there. "She can't cook," he muttered, trying to keep his tone light.

Lundy gave a boyish chuckle and sat down. "Neither can the Old Woman in the enlisted mess, but if he looked like that, I'd mind less."

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