The Five Dollar Mail Book 3: The Road Home

67: Tall Tales

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Bender by Diego Candia. 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.

Bender was so relieved to see Bari the Former Wanker asleep on the parlor sofa that he almost forgot himself and shouted with relief.

Jersey was safely in her stall, alive and well, and Swagman had clearly been as overjoyed to see her as he was himself. But the fact that Saint's gray mare had returned home safe and sound didn't necessarily mean that her rider had. So the sight of Saint, pale but breathing, gave him a much-needed jolt of hope.

I'm not going to wake the poor bloke. He wouldn't be shirtless in the parlor, sleeping on the sofa if he wasn't still ailing. But he's here, at least. Alive. He decided instead to just take a peek into Lily's room to assure himself that she, too, had gotten home safely. It's not proper to be sticking me head into Miss Lil's room unannounced, but after everything we've been through, bugger that with a broomstick. I'm not waiting till morning to know she's safe, and that's the dinkum oil.

He scrutinized Saint's sleeping face one last time, his eyes flicking over the reassuring rise and fall of blankets across his chest, and the strip of clean gauze looping over his shoulder to hold a bandage to his perforated back. He nodded in tentative satisfaction. You gave us a scare, mate.

Turning away and starting out of the parlor, he froze in the doorway when he heard the creak of a sofa spring and the soft click of the hammer on a Colt revolver being drawn back.

"It's me, mate," he said quickly, holding his hands up and turning around slowly. "It's Hungerford. I'm back."

Saint gasped, air leaving his lungs in a rush that deflated his shoulders. He uncocked the Colt in his hand, letting it dangle from his trigger finger and roaching his rumpled hair back with his free hand. "Merda, am I glad you're here. Where's..." He paused, bracing himself. "Where's Jesse?"

"Alive. The crazy bugger's alright. Miss Lil?"

"Upstairs. We made it back fine." Saint laid the Colt onto the demilune near the sofa.

Bender let himself sink into a chair. He was filthy, and Fiona would probably have quite a bit to say about his dust-covered coat on her fine upholstery. But being back in the sanctuary of the station, in the warmth of the parlor, he felt the steel leave his spine and the dogged strength in his legs fail. His limbs had become sandbags. He relaxed, pulling his hat off and letting his head fall back against the wall behind him. "Why are you still in here, mate? You take sick?"

Saint shook his head, swinging himself around to sit properly on the sofa, the blanket pulled across his lap and over his legs. "No, I'm fine, Bender. Still a little sore. But I'll live...thanks to you." He gave Bender a grim nod, and gestured to the abandoned blankets on the floor near the opposite wall. "Wash must be out back. We're all sleeping in the house right now. A lot's happened since we were gone. Where's Farm Boy?"

"You're not going to believe it. He's..." Bender shook his head, trying to clear it. "Let's get Miss Lil down here before I get all involved in it, yeah? She upstairs?"

Saint frowned, raising a quizzical eyebrow. "Yeah, I'll..."

"Stay put, Mate, I'll call up to her." Bender shifted out of the chair with a groan, his stiff legs protesting against having to support him again. He limped out into the long hall that cut through the house. "Miss Lil?" He called up the stairwell. "It's Bender! Your brother's all apples, love! He's fine. I need to talk to you."

He heard the door to Lily's bedroom jerk open, and she appeared at the top of the stairs, fumbling the remains of her spectacles onto her face. "Jon!" She all but leaped down the risers separating them, her dressing gown swirling around her legs as she threw herself into his arms. "Oh, Jon! Thank God!"

Her light brown hair was in a wild disarray, tickling his face as he held her. His heart twisted inside him, and he felt her tears wetting his shirt. His heart twisted inside him, a wall of emotion threatening to bowl him over. He held her tightly, feeling his eyes start to burn.

"Jon, I was so afraid." She pulled back, looking at him and sweeping his hair back. "I was so afraid I would never see you and Jesse again! Where is..."

He put an arm around her, leading her back into the parlor. "He's well," he assured her, raising an eyebrow at Saint and nodding. "Uh...maybe too well...he's..." Easing Lily onto the couch beside Saint, he paced back to his chair and sat leaning forward, his elbows heavily on his knees. "he's...not here right now."

"What?" Lily's face fell. "Where..."

Bender chose his words carefully. "He stayed with the people who rescued him. He...ran into a spot of trouble on the river."

Saint visibly flinched, tightening his fingers on Lily's shoulder. "He's hurt?"

"No," Bender said quickly. "He was all wet and got in a bad way with the cold. He's in a Sioux camp right now."

Lily's hand went to her mouth. "Are you saying he's a captive?"

"No." Bender shook his head. "No, that's the bugger of it, love. He says he's got to sort something before he comes home."

Lily and Saint were both staring at him, wearing twin looks of bewilderment. He went on, licking his lips. "That's not all...he was dressed like an Indian and speaking Sioux."

Saint cocked his head, his brow furrowing. "This is Farm Boy we're talking about...right?"

"Fair dinkum oil, mate." He got up, flexing his back. "Look, I'll be back down in a few minutes, yeah? I want to get out of..."

"Jon..." Lily said, giving him an apologetic wince. "You can't go up there right now."

"Yeah, sorry, Hungerford," Saint said, shrugging at Bender's questioning look. "Like I said, a lot's happened. There's a little girl sleeping in your bed."

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