Horsepeople

Chapter Twenty-Six

"That's the last if it," Charlie grunted as he jumped down from the wagon, the two Belgians hanging their heads low after a full day of hauling food to the woods.

After the militia had left almost five days ago, Harold had suggested hiding all their winter stores in caches throughout the woods. The townsfolk had nodded unanimously. Then they had set to work building cellars hidden among the pines.

"I think it was the smart thing to do," Jo said, and Charlie nodded. There was a tense moment between them where they wished there was something else to do, some other way to prepare for the encounter that loomed before them. But the setting summer sun dipped below the mountains and Jo sighed.

"I'll get the girls unhitched and put away if you want to catch the end of supper," Jo said and Charlie nodded again, turning towards the Hotel on his long lilting legs.

Jo had lost track of the days since the militia had been there and she felt like she was trapped in a fugue state, but since then it had snowed in the mountains and a bitter cold wind blew across the prairies. It imparted the sense that change was coming; between winter and the militia, she didn't know which change would be greater. All she knew was that it added to the sadness of summer coming to an end, stoking her longing for the short, warm nights and making her heart quicken with anticipation for the fickle season that lay ahead.

After returning the Belgians to their paddock and slipping the halters from their broad faces, Jo turned up Main Street to join everyone in the Hotel. Cricket followed at her side. As Jo reached out a hand to her neck, the mare froze and swivelled her head to look behind them, ears pricked forward.

Through the falling darkness, Jo saw a looming shadow marching up the street. Jo stiffened and started to back away in case it were a bear or moose. As it drew nearer, however, she recognized the roman nose and shining mane of one of the Belgians.

"Goddamn, you gave me a good scare," Jo said, relief washing through her so fast it addled her stomach, which spoke to how wound-up Jo was about the Government. Reaching out a hand, she caught the nose of her gentle giant. "Now, how did you get out of your pen? Hang on, you're one of..."

Before she could finish her sentence, Heinrich slipped down the side of the horse and crumpled to the ground, and Jo managed to catch his shoulders before his head hit the road.

"Heinrich!" Jo tapped his cheek but the man only mumbled, eyes closed. Even in the fading light, she could see the bruising around his mouth, his swollen nose, and the purple under his eyes.

"Okay, Heinrich," Jo muttered, grappling his body off the ground, "We've got to get you to Maryanne. Help me out a bit. Come on, Heinrich!"

Heaving him up, both arms over her shoulders, his head lolling beside hers, Jo hauled him towards to Hotel. Heinrich was a big man and every step she took made the Hotel feel farther away. Finally, Jo kicked open the door and in a breathless voice called for the nurses. Heinrich was soon taken from her shoulders and laid on the bar, where Maryanne started a thorough examination.

Coming in a while after her and hanging his jacket and hat by the door, Will called out without looking around, "So I found one of the Belgians wandering around on the street and put her away. Figure I'll be checking fences tomorrow... Oh, hell." Will sidled over to Jo, who hadn't moved much farther into the room. "What's going on?"

Jo shrugged, but Maryanne had heard him well enough.

"Looks like he took a beating, I'd say two days ago," she said. "Look here"—she waved a hand over Heinrich's lean ribcage—"he's got a few broken ribs for sure. But his lungs sound okay. Doesn't seem to have any serious internal bleeding, but look at this bruising! And he had such a handsome face too."