Clay tossed the blankets onto the chair he'd slept in. “No, I see little need for it. But if you can point us toward Butte, I’d be much obliged.”
“I can do that, but first,” Eugene said, “How about some breakfast?”
Irma was already at the stove with several frying pans sizzling. The scent of something unfamiliar filled the air. His stomach grumbled, although he wasn’t sure what she was cooking. He’d not eaten since Daisy had shared her honey biscuits with him on the stagecoach the day before, and knew she had to be hungry as well.
“Breakfast sounds like a fine idea.” A light touch to his arm drew his attention. Daisy motioned toward the door with her head. He nodded and said, “We’ll leave as soon as we’ve eaten.”
Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink before she whispered, “I need a moment to myself.”
It took only a second to realize what she meant. It had been too dark the night before to see an outhouse, but he was sure there was one. Eugene confirmed it, and he watched as Daisy left the cabin to go find it. The urge to follow her to make sure she made it safely was strong, but trailing behind a woman when she needed a bit of privacy wasn’t something he thought she’d appreciate, so he stayed where he was.
Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Eugene set it on the small table. Irma placed a plate heaping with scrambled eggs down and was plating up whatever meat she’d fried when Daisy walked back inside. He excused himself to visit the outhouse. The thought of leaving Daisy alone in the house with total strangers had him hurrying around the cabin and up the small hill to take care of his business.
The smell was to be expected when he stepped into the structure, and holding his breath helped. Stepping back outside, he inhaled, his nose wrinkling as a powerful stench was still filling the air, only it wasn’t normal outhouse smells. It took a few moments to realize it was something dead nearby.
He searched the trees for a decaying animal but saw nothing. Scents like the one he was smelling would draw in prey, and Eugene and Irma may not see it until it was too late. Rounding the outhouse, he scanned the trees, looking for the source of the smell, and spotted a pile of—something—not too far away.
Small twigs and limbs cracked under his boots as he made his way to it, his steps slowing when he was close enough to see it. He stopped when his brain registered what it was. Bones. Lots of them. Some were so old the sun had bleached them white. This was where the stench was coming from, only it wasn’t just bones. Flesh still clung to some of them. It was a dumping ground of some sort. Not too unusual. Almost everyone had a spot where they burned trash, but this pile looked different. For one, it wasn’t burned.
A flash of red caught his eye. He stepped closer, inspecting the trash pile. Clothing, weathered and old, was scattered throughout, old boots and shoes, lots of them, and Clay froze when he saw what looked like rotted meat clinging to the bones.
The brain was a funny thing. It played tricks on you and made you see things that weren’t there, and as much as he tried to convince himself that’s what was happening now, logic told him it wasn’t. That really was a human leg bone he was staring at. The boot still attached to the foot told him so.
It took several long minutes to process what he was seeing. It was a trash pile, but not what one would usually find. These were bodies. Old bleached bones, some newer, and as he looked back at the house, the mysterious meat Irma was cooking came to mind. He turned and ran as fast as his battered body let him, nearly tripping over a tree stump in the process to get back to the cabin. He stopped at the porch, trying to collect himself and even out his breathing, before opening the door.
Daisy was at the table, a plate filled with eggs and the mystery meat in front of her. His stomach turned as he watched Eugene and Irma grin at her. Anger made his body go hot, the sensation starting at his feet before climbing up his torso. He gave Eugene a tight smile before reaching for Daisy’s arm to get her attention. She smiled at him, but it fell away when she saw his face.
“I hate you went to so much trouble, Irma, but we can’t stay.” He tugged Daisy up from the table. “We have a train to catch in Butte, and I’m still not sure how far away we are.” Irma glanced at Eugene before standing from the table and crossing the room. Clay took a step back toward the door as Eugene stood.
“Don’t rush off,” Eugene said. “There’s plenty of time to catch the train.”
“We have other business in town,” Clay said. “Besides, we’ve imposed on you folks long enough.” He reached for the door behind him, opening it without looking as Irma turned toward them, a shotgun pointed in their direction.
“Now, don’t run off, boy.” Eugene gave him the same smile he’d been giving them the night before as Irma took a step and lifted the gun.
He didn’t wait. He grabbed Daisy, swung open the door, and ran outside with her, dragging her along with him as he jumped off the porch and headed for the trees. The shotgun blast nearly deafened him as it went off. Daisy never said a word, just held up her skirts and ran as another shot echoed through the trees.
Running as if their lives depended on it, he never stopped to look back. If what he’d seen was what his mind told him it was, their lives depended on them getting away, so neither stopped until their legs wouldn’t carry them any longer and he had a stitch in his side.
Daisy leaned back against a tree when they stopped running, hands on her knees, as she panted for breath. He did the same. It took long minutes for his heart rate to resume a normal beat. When he straightened, Daisy was staring at him, confusion clouding her pretty green eyes.
“Please tell me you didn’t eat anything.”
She shook her head. “No. I was waiting for you.”
“Thank goodness.” He sighed and met her gaze, saying, “I don’t think that was venison Irma was serving us.”
“Do I even want to know?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Probably not.” Looking back the way they came, he searched the tree-line for Eugene but never saw him. If he was right and those two old coots were eating people, then that would explain why the old man had looked for them for over an hour the night before. They must have been low on meat. He shuddered at the thought. “Let’s get out of here before we end up on Eugene and Irma’s supper table.”
Her eyes widened at his words. He ignored her questioning gaze and looked toward the sky. Dark clouds were moving in, but he found the sun. They had been heading west when the bandits stopped them. Logic told him to keep going that way, so, motioning to his left with the tilt of his head, he said, “I think we need to go this way,” before ushering Daisy in that direction. If he were right, they’d run into Butte. If not, then they were truly lost.
Chapter 3
They were lost. They’d been walking for hours, it seemed, and there was no sight of a road or town anywhere. There were only trees and more trees.
Clay glanced over at Daisy. She looked tired. Her steps were getting slower, and it was no wonder. Neither of them had eaten much since the evening before, and that had only been biscuits with honey. They’d found a few nuts and berries and a handful of mushrooms along the way, but it wasn’t enough to be considered a full meal, but it was something.
