Something moved in the undergrowth beneath the tree.
The cat sprang away as Conn turned and drew his Remington and dropped to one knee, training his weapon on the bushes.
Likewise, Sheffield scampered to one side, grabbing his rifle and pointing it at the same spot.
“Come on out, or we start shooting,” Conn said.
“Please don’t shoot, Mister,” a tiny voice said, and a boy maybe seven years old emerged from the weeds. He was in rough shape, pale and puffy eyed. He stumbled forward then stared in horror at the man on the ground. “Oh, Pa…” he cried.
Conn frowned and took off his coat and draped it gently over the dead man’s face as a kindness to the boy, who was sobbing now.
Conn went to him and crouched down and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders.
The kid flinched and looked at Conn warily. “Are you good men?”
“Yes,” Conn said. “We are good men.”
“You aren’t like those other men?”
“Not at all.”
“They killed my daddy.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And they hurt Mama.”
“Is she around?”
The boy nodded but said no more, looking wary again.
Guessing at the boy’s thoughts, Conn said, “Son, like I told you, we are good men. We are chasing the men who did this. They did the same thing to my family. We are going to find them and make sure they never do this to anyone else. Do you understand?”
The boy nodded. “Yes, sir. You’re going to kill them?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Do you promise?”
“Yes, I do.”
The boy nodded. “That is good.”
“Yes, it is. Now, if you tell me where your mama is, I will try to help both of you.”
The boy hesitated for a second then nodded again and took Conn’s hand and led him across the creek and back into the trees, where a woman in a torn dress sat staring into nothing.
Conn didn’t know how bad she was hurt. Both her eyes were blackened, and he saw bite marks on her neck and where her dress was torn.
“Ma’am,” he said in a soft voice, “my name’s Conn Sullivan, and I am here to help you and your boy.”
She just sat there.
Wanting her to have her dignity, Conn turned to the boy. “Son, do you think you could get your mama’s sweater off? I’mthinking you should put it on her backwards and cover her up where they ripped her dress. That’ll keep her warm.”
“Yes, sir. That’s a good idea.” The boy went to his mother and did as Conn said.
Through it all, she just stared emptily like a life-sized doll.
