Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Clara was kind enough to offer him a slice of the pound cake for the journey, so he bid a warm goodbye to both her and the doll before leaving the homestead.
Dr. Dawson’s home was a fifteen-minute ride away from Three Stones, but with the sun having lost some of its heat, it was far more pleasant than that initial journey into town. Ned was dreading Scotch’s company, especially since in the hour from their parting, he’d surely managed to get himself into even more of a state, and it would be up to Ned to get him home. No matter how much he wanted the dirty-mouthed bastard to rot in the gutter instead.
It was getting dark when Ned approached the dusty town. Buildings stood to attention on either side of the only street, like soldiers saluting the sun, which had already descended behind the station building at the very end. In the twilight, the long tunnel of dirt, wood, and sky smelled of overcooked vegetables and smoke, with a serving of rancid meat. If it weren’t for the persistent buzz of flies, Ned might have ridden past the coffin standing upright against a whitewashed wall without noticing the dead man inside.
He budged Nugget with his heels and approached it in the last of the daylight, shocked to see the body on display, out where it could be pecked on by birds and insects. It wouldn’t have been unusual for an undertaker to show off his wares in the open, but this simple wooden coffin was occupied by a man who had gaping holes instead of eyes, and no lips.
“The hell…?” Ned muttered under his breath and strained his eyes to read the announcement nailed to the wall of the building, above the poor sod. Three Stones - a town of Tough Justice where good people sleep well.
Under the pale face, on a neck that bore dark lines around the throat hung a wooden plaque marking the victim as a horse tief. Proper education clearly wasn’t required in order to participate in policing around there.
Ned wondered whether this town was a good place to stay near to after all, but maybe Tom knew something he didn’t. Folks had lit lanterns at house fronts, and their weak glow transformed the stark, unfriendly silhouettes from earlier into a place to rest one’s tired body and mind. The dusky illumination obscured all the grime and cracks, making glass shine in the windows as if this weren’t a mean settlement where men outnumbered women by a rate of ten to one.
As he rode forward, on the lookout for the Red Lily, and too embarrassed to ask regular folk for directions, his gaze swept over a brown-haired boy carrying a sandwich board advertising a world-renowned choice of pocket watches. The one Ned had gotten from Cole was a constant reminder of the affection they shared, and now warmed his flesh from inside his pocket. On an impulse, Ned rode up to the child struggling with the huge sign that covered him from neck to the toes, and hitched his horse at a post nearby.
“You still open?”
The boy must have decided Ned was worth the attention and turned toward him, gathering dust with one side of the board. “If you’re buying,” he said, his lips twitching as he gestured to a store on the other side of the street.
Ned swallowed, knowing that the fitting Cole had given to some of Ned’s clothes made him look more respectable. When he’d lived on the ranch, such things were trifles, and any clothes Ned had gotten were too large, so he could grow into them, even the hand-me-downs from his older cousins. Earlier that day, he’d forgotten about how much care and time Cole dedicated to helping Ned feel more confident in the few outfits he owned. He deserved a reward and a token of Ned’s own affection.
This way, they’d both enjoy one another’s invisible touch when the real thing was out of the question.
Fifteen minutes later, he made his purchase and walked to the general store where he bought some necessities, including raisins, which were Cole’s favorite snack. By the time he emerged, it had gotten so dark that the pock marks on people’s faces could no longer be spotted, but the dead man on the entryway and the wooden gallows to the left reminded everyone of the harsh law in Three Stones. Kerosene lamps could not disperse the gloom enough to transform the shabby town into something it wasn’t.
Ned saw suspicion in some people’s eyes, but for most of the men who spent their day toiling at the mine it was too early for brawls with strangers. He made sure to tip his hat in greeting whenever he spotted a friendly smile, and didn’t have to ask about the Red Lily in the end, because in the dark, its red lanterns stood out from afar.