stairs. Greg ran to Winn to be lifted into strong arms."Did you get any candy in town?" asked the boy, giving Winn a hug."You bet. Can you help me unload the wagon?"

Greg slid to the floor and puffed out his chest. "Yeah," he said, takingWinn's hand and walking out the door."Where's Mama? Why's the wagon so far from the house?"Winn decided to take one question at a time.

"Help me move the wagon closer."

After the run from Dempsey's place, moving the wagon in the yard didn't seem like too big a problem, especially with Greg to tell him when to stop. When the wagon was close to the back door, Winn climbed down.

"You'll have to help me decide what goes in here and what needs to go to the

bunkhouse."

"Sure," Greg said, climbing into the wagon bed. "You 'member what Mama wanted?"

"Louie told the storekeeper to put your candy in your mama's box."

When the box was sit ting on the kitchen table, Winn and Greg climbed onto the wagon and drove it into the barn.

"We'll take the things to the bunkhouse later. Now you'll have to help me

rub down the horse," Winn said as he climbed down.

"Where's Peter?"

Winn took a deep breath. He had been putting this off and it wasn't getting

any easier.

"He went for a doctor, Greg. Louie's hurt. Your mama's with him in thebunkhouse.""Oh." Greg climbed out of the wagon and slipped his hand into Winn's."How did he get hurt?"Winn knelt to Greg's level and the boy climbed onto his knee."He was shot, Greg.""Like Billy?"Winn wished to G.o.d he could see the child's face. How would he know when he had said enough and

when he was saying too much?

"Yes, but Louie isn't dead." He didn't want to add that Louie could be deadin a very short time, possibly was already.Greg didn't speak or move."Do you understand what I said?" Winn asked.Greg squirmed a little."I want Mama so I can cry," he said in a small choked voice."Son, your mama's doing all she can for Louie and Doc Gordon should be here soon. You know how Peter can ride. But when Peter gets here with thedoctor, he'll be tired and we need to help him by taking care of the horse.He had a run, too, and needs to be fed and watered and rubbed down.

Do you think you can help me? "Greg slid off his knee and took his hand. They were unhitching the horsewhen they heard Peter ride in with the doctor. Winn wanted to go to thebunkhouse to hear what the doctor said, to be with Cynthie whether the newswas good or bad. He knew he needed to stay with Greg instead. In a few minutes, Peter came to the barn. He took care of his own horse and thedoctor's then helped Winn.When they were done Peter went to saddle a fresh horse."I'm to bring Betts in," was all he said.Winn took Greg's hand and they walked to the bunkhouse. They sat on the bench there and waited for word.

"I'm hungry," Greg said after a while.

Winn wasn't sure what to do. Maybe he should take the boy to the house and

see if he could find something to eat. The thought almost made him panic.

"Your mama won't be much longer," he said.

"I want Mama," Greg insisted and Winn realized

that the child was probably scared as well as hungry. He wished he could a.s.sure him that Louie would be all right but he knew that wouldn't be fair.

"I'll see if your mama can come out. You wait here." He patted the boy's

leg and stood, ma king his way to the bunkhouse door.Inside he stopped and listened for a moment. He could hear voices across theroom at Louie's bed. If Gordon was removing the bullet and needed Cynthie'shelp, he didn't want to interrupt. In a moment he heard Cynthie say his name.

' "I didn't mean to bother you but your son is asking for you," he said.

"Go ahead," Gordon told her.

"I'm about done here."

Winn could hear the splash of water as Cynthie washed. In a moment he heard

her shoes tapping across the room. She paused beside him before leaving the

bunkhouse without a word. Winn wanted to go with her but he knew she didn't want him to. He shouldn't have gone to Dempsey's. She had every right to be furious with him. It was his fault Louie was shot and probably dying. He had made her more upset byblaming Dempsey.

He heard the splash of water again."How is he?" he asked.Doc Gordon sighed."He's bad, I won't pretend he isn't, but he might live.I've done what I can. ""Thank you." Winn listened to the doctor as he gathered up his instruments.

He wanted to ask how he could help but knew there was no thing he could do.

"Would you send the sheriff out when you get back to town?"

he asked, and Doc agreed.

The door behind Winn opened. He could hear Betts's voice but knew there were two people who entered. Peter, he guessed. Betts hung back near Winnbut Peter crossed the room quickly.

Betts tapped Winn's arm and they left the bunkhouse as the doctor began totell Peter how to care for Louie.

Chapter Fourteen.

Q^nys^Q It was almost dusk. Winn sat on the bench outside the bunkhouse whittling.

The small piece of pine that he stroked so carefully with his knife would bea toy for Greg. He had decided to try something simple, a ball on a stringwith a cup to catch it in. He was working on the handle; it couldn't getmore simple than that. Louie had found the wood for him.

Louie. Louie still hadn't stirred.

He sighed. His attention wasn't on the wood at all. He couldn't helpturning toward the house, listening for sounds, wishing he could see what wasgoing on.

The sheriff had talked with him. Winn told him about the branding irons aswell as everything he had heard from both Ott and Louie. The sheriff had listened but hadn't seemed too eager to act. Winn had to admit that a blind man wouldn't make the best witness.

A young woman named Mary had followed the doctor out from town. She had heard that someone else at the Franklin place had been shot and hurried out,afraid it might be Jeremiah Betts. She stayed and gave Peter furtherinstructions for Louie's care, visited with Cynthie and cooked the eveningmeal. Winn sat outside and whittled.

Cynthie hadn't wanted to talk to him. Or listen to him. He had questionedthe wisdom of bringing Jeremiah in from the herd but she had replied that theherd didn't matter now.

He touched the rough surface of the wood. It was getting smoother. It was too thick yet anyway. He tried to concentrate on the wood and forgeteverything else, but he couldn't.

Dempsey was in the house with Cynthie. He had come in the late afternoon and had been there for an hour, maybe more. Winn didn't think he was a goodjudge of time in a case like this.

He felt a presence at his side and heard Peter say, "Hi."

"Hi, yourself," he said, stilling the knife.

"You're as quiet as an Indian."

Peter sat down beside him and asked, "Dempsey did it, didn't he?"

The question didn't surprise Winn as much as it might have. The boy wasn'tknown for small talk.

"I can't prove it, son," he said, "but that's my guess."

Peter was quiet and Winn resumed his whittling. After several minutes, Petersaid, "Saw Franklin pay Dempsey once. Dempsey said, " If you make this toodifficult, I may decide there are things I want more than your money. "" Blackmail? Winn had never heard Peter put that many words together at onetime. It made him all the more certain the boy was quoting exactly.

"Did you tell anyone about it?"

"Didn't suppose n.o.body'd listen."

Winn thought Louie would have but he kept it to himself. Saying so would only hurt the boy.

Peter spoke again.

"What you reckon he wanted more than Mr. Franklin's money?"

His ranch and his wife, was Winn's best guess. "Whatever it was, do you

think Dempsey killed Franklin to get it?"

"Always wondered," Peter said.

Winn wasn't sure it was the time to ask, but he had to know.

"Peter, how did your father die?"

Peter was silent for a long time.

"Don't know," he said finally.

"Wasn't home."

"But you have an idea," Winn prompted.

"Pa said Franklin wanted to run us off our land. Franklin always sent

Dempsey."Winn thought about it for a moment and shook his head."None of this is proof, Peter.""Not yet." Winn felt, more than heard, the boy leave.Cynthie had been glad for Mary's help. She bustled around the kitchen fixing their supper and baking m.u.f.fins ahead for the next morning.

Cynthie had told her she would understand if Jeremiah wanted to quit.

The job was getting dangerous.

"That'll have to be Jeremiah's decision. I know he's always been proud to

work for you," Mary had said.

"We would like a place of our own sometime, but I don't know when we'll manage that."