The Five Dollar Mail Book 3: The Road Home

4: Uncail

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Wash made of found images by me. 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.

"Mister Monahan." The girl stood just past the doorway of Bender's room. Her eyes darted around at the eclectic mix of curios that cluttered the mantle and writing desk. "Are you sure this is alright? Are you sure he won't mind if I bunk here?"

Wash gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He glanced around Hungerford's bedroom, his gaze lingering on the giant, tooth-like rock holding the books over the fireplace up on one end. The room smelled of wood and leather, and he hoped it would be comforting and cozy until they came up with better lodgings for Rosie. "Aye, lass. He won't mind. If he comes back before all this is sorted he can bunk in the parlor or outside with us. Probably the lasses wouldn't mind if we put you in one of their rooms, either, but it's easier to shift him than it would be to shift them. He can have me own bunk if he wants it." He leaned a shoulder against the door frame, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. "Don't you worry, Miss Burgess. I want you to to feel at home here, so I do." He looked her over, thinking she looked lost and out of place. "And you know, if we're supposed to be cousins...you're going to have to stop calling me 'Mister Monahan.' You can call me Wash like everyone else does, so you can."

She nodded, her face pinched with stress. "I...I suppose you're right. You..." She dropped her gaze to the floor and took a deep breath. "You...look upset. You're having second thoughts about this. I can just go back home...back to my father's house and tell the sheriff I've decided to go..."

"No." Wash stepped towards her, shaking his head. His heart had started to pound. He was afraid. Afraid that she'd submit to being sent east just to spare them trouble. Afraid that he'd drive her off, that maybe she might be afraid of him. Afraid he'd try to save her and bollocks it up. "Lass, listen...if that's what you want, I won't keep you here. But..." He touched her shoulder, encouraging her to look at him. He was pretty sure he might have been shaking inside a little. "I had quite a few thoughts, so I did. Second and third and forty-ninth thoughts as well. And came to the same conclusion each time. We're here for you. All of us. I mean for someone to do right by you for once."

She stepped into the room tentatively, cautiously, looking around before turning to face him. "Why?"

He cocked his head. "Why...?"

"You don't even know me, sir." Her childlike voice was soft and heartbreaking. "Why would you..."

"I know what it's like when family lets you down. He held her gaze, hoping she'd see the truth in his eyes. "I came from back east meself. And not from a good place." He pulled a hand out of his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck. "I canna have you go back there if you don't want to go. Especially since you're in this bind helping us out. We owe you, so we do."

She took a deep breath and let it out. "You're...sure about this?"

Her eyes were puffy and rimmed with red. Wash knew she'd been crying as they'd gone back with Doc Plunkett to get her things from her father's house. He knew she was in an awful state. Burgess might be the worst sort of tosser, but he's still her da. This can't be easy for her. Am I making it worse? Better? Jaysus. I don't know what I'm doing. I know one thing, though. He nodded firmly. She hasn't a soul in the world. "Aye, lass. I'm sure. But here's the important question...are you?"

She looked around again at the room, her head nodding slightly but firmly. "Yes sir." Her watery blue gaze met his again. "But...I'm afraid."

"Aye, lass," he breathed, shoving his hand back down into his pocket again, grasping the lead shot there and worrying it with his fingers. "Aye. Me too."

A tear rolled down her cheek and she hastily wiped it away, smiling in spite of it. "I thought you were a tough, scary gunfighter. I wouldn't think you'd be afraid of anything."

A pang of self-consciousness fluttered through him, memories whispering on the edge of his memory. "Some things, Miss Burgess..." He chuckled, rubbing his eyes. "Only an eedjit wouldn't be scared of."

"You know, Mister...I mean...Wash," she said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "Since we're cousins and all...you're going to have to remember to call me Rosie."

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