Chapter 1
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the heat was sweltering on the afternoon that a nearly dead man arrived at the Murphy farm. Sam Jones walked out of the barn to get a drink of water from the pump. Sam was a tall black man with a muscular body earned from spending most of his forty years doing manual labor. He wore worn brown trousers with suspenders and a dirty, white shirt soaked in sweat with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Sam noted, despite the heat, that the air was clean and smelled pleasant. The smell of Molly’s flower garden filled the air. The birds didn’t seem to mind the heat as they carried on singing their summer songs, as usual. Sam smiled, thinking that he was lucky to be alive and healthy on a day this lovely. After a long life of struggling, the Lord was rewarding him for his hard work.
Before Sam reached the pump, he was greeted by his boss and the owner of the farm, Abel Murphy. He was a small man in his late 60’s. His hair and mustache were white, his face lined with age, but his bright blue eyes were still welcoming and friendly. “Sure is a hot one today, huh, Sam?” he said to his farmhand.
“I’ll say!” replied Sam. “I could sure use a drink.” Able raised his eyebrows and gave Sam a mischievous smile. Sam shook his head and laughed. “A drink of water, sir. I was headed to get one now.”
“Just making sure you’re continuing to behave,” Abel replied smiling, knowing he could trust Sam.
“How you coming along, Sam?” he asked.
“Got the animals fed,” Sam replied. “Horses are brushed down. I was about to clean their stables before heading out to the field.”
“Go ahead to the field. I’ll take care of the stables.”
“Sir! I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s the worst job of them all. I’ll take care of it and be done within half an hour.”
“Nonsense. There isn’t much around here that I can still do and that’s one job that I’m still capable of completing. I’ve been cleaning stables since I was ten. It won’t hurt me to do it now. I’ll get started, you get that drink.”
“If you say so, sir. Thanks.”
Sam took a metal cup off the pump, put it under the faucet, and began pumping the handle. While he did this, he looked off into the horizon and took a moment to daydream. He thought of his wife and girls. He wondered what they were up to right now. Were they happy? Were they enjoying this beautiful day? Were they wondering what he was doing?
Sam snapped out of his daydreaming and stopped pumping when he noticed about half a mile away, in the pasture, two horses lazily walking through the pasture with a single rider between them. They didn’t seem to be heading anywhere and didn’t appear to be in a hurry. Sam found this curious because he knew that there weren’t any farms in the direction they would have come from. In that direction was only wilderness and then desert for miles. Sam continued watching the horses and rider for a minute or two to see if their speed or direction changed. They didn’t.
“Mr. Murphy!” Sam shouted in the direction of the stables. Abel rushed out of the stables, taking his gloves off.
“What is it, Sam?”
Sam pointed out to the pasture and the two horses. “Out there, sir. Two horses and a rider. I don’t know where they would have come from, but they appear to be lost.”
Abel squinted looking where Sam pointed. His eyesight not being what it once was, he pulled his glasses out of his shirt pocket and looped them around his ears. Sure enough, Sam was right. This was no shock to Abel as he knew Sam could spot a sparrow in a tree 200 yards away. “Strange,” he muttered to Sam. He pointed to the stable. “Let’s grab a couple horses and ride out to meet him. See what he’s doing.”
“Yes, sir,” said Sam, nodding. “Mr. Murphy?”
“Yeah, Sam?”
“You want I should bring the rifle?”
Abel looked out at the rider again, biting his lip. “Yeah. That would be a good idea. Follow me and stay back.” With that, Abel went to the stable and saddled up two horses. Same went back to the barn to grab a rifle, then headed back to the stable to join Abel.
The two men slowly, cautiously rode out towards the horses, Sam staying about 50 feet back, the rifle at his ready. As Abel got closer, he noticed the rider was slumped over in his saddle, apparently asleep. Abel couldn’t tell for certain because the rider’s hat concealed his features. The horses appeared tired and their mouths foamed with thirst. Their slowness and confusion made sense to Abel now. “Hello there,” he called to the rider, with a friendly tone. As he anticipated, the man made no response. He stayed slumped over. Abel stopped, turned to Sam, and waved him forward. Same caught up with him and Abel whispered, “They don’t look to be in good shape. He must have been riding for a while.” Sam nodded in agreement upon seeing the condition of the horses. “Come with me,” Abel said. “Let’s see if the rider is doing any better than them.”
As they got closer to the two horses, they noticed a strong smell coming from the rider’s direction. It wasn’t just sweat or regular body odor. It was the bitter smell of decay. Flies were buzzing all around the three, but mostly around the rider’s head. They rode up to the horses and both men gasped upon seeing the rider’s face. Anywhere that wasn’t protected by his blonde headband beard was a red, blistered mess. The rest of his body was covered, including gloves over his hands, so they couldn’t tell how much of him was burnt.
“Do you think he’s dead?” Abel asked.
“Hard to say from here.”
“I’m going to head back to the house and fetch Molly. Can you bring him and the horses back?”
Sam nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“If he’s still alive we’ll get him inside and let Molly do what she can. You take care of those horses. Get them some water and food.” Sam nodded again. Abel turned around and rode back to the farmhouse at full speed.
Abel rushed into the farmhouse, the smell of warm bread greeting his nostrils. He headed to the kitchen where a young woman with curly blonde hair was at work, kneading dough for another loaf of bread. She wore a simple blue and white gingham house dress with a white apron over it. She looked up with a smile when Abel entered the kitchen. Her eyes were large and bright blue, just like Abel’s. “Just about done,” she said. “I think these will be enough to last the Elams for quite a …” Her smile disappeared upon seeing the look of panic on Abel’s face.
“What is it, pa?” she asked.
“Out in the pasture. Two horses and a rider. The horses are hungry and dehydrated. The rider, much worse. He’s unconscious, maybe dead and it looks like he’s been sunburned something awful. He must have traveled through the desert to get here. Sam is bringing him back here, in case he’s still alive.”
Molly quickly wiped the flour from her hands onto her apron and took it off. “I’ll get the bed ready in the spare room.”
“Thank you, dear,” Abel said. Molly rushed out of the kitchen.
Abel returned to the front door to see Sam arriving on his horse, pulling the two new ones behind him. Sam dismounted and easily pulled the rider off his horse. “He’s alive,” said Sam. “Barely.” He carried the rider inside. The two men brought him to the guest bedroom where Molly was just finishing up making his bed.
She gasped upon seeing him. “Get those clothes off him,” she directed the men. “But be careful. They could be stuck to him. You don’t want to hurt him any more than what’s been done. I’ll get some towels and start warming up some water.”
The two men set the rider down on the bed as she rushed out of the room. The unconscious man didn’t make a sound or movement. As they began to unbutton his shirt, the smell of infection overwhelmed them and they were both disturbed to see that his burns appeared to cover his entire body. Many of his sores were broken up and bleeding or oozing pus.
Sam looked at Abel, a somber and pessimistic look on his face. “Do you think he has any chance of making it?”
Abel bit his lip and shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen something this bad. But he deserves a chance, at least.”
“I’ve seen worse,” said Sam. “And they sure didn’t make it.
#
That evening, Sam and Abel sat on rocking chairs on the porch, smoking pipes. They hadn’t said a word to each other in nearly half an hour. The only sound came from the choirs of crickets. Abel wore his glasses, attempting to read his bible, but he couldn’t concentrate on the words. Everyone had been quiet over dinner, no one knowing what to say, or think, about their mysterious visitor.
Sam broke the silence after a puff from his pipe, realizing a topic that wasn’t about the man in the spare room. “The horses are doing well.”
Abel nodded, still pretending to read. “Good to hear.”
“Looks like they were taken better care of than he was, which is strange, but there’s something else.”
Abel looked up from his bible and raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
Sam stared off into the night, his brow furrowed. “Both saddles had two different names on them. The black one, the one he was riding, had ‘Masters’. T’other said ‘Pernell’.”
Abel took a thoughtful puff from his pipe. “So our guest is Masters and he was split off from a friend, Pernell. Maybe Pernell didn’t survive the desert.”
Sam shook his head. “If only it were that simple. The hat he was wearing had a name inside, ‘Vick Pernell’.”
“Then our man’s Pernell and he took Master’s better horse. Or he’s still Masters and he took Pernell’s better hat. So we can assume that somewhere out there is a dead Pernell or Masters.”
“Also,” said Sam, “In Master’s saddlebag was a real nice Colt, very well cared for. On the handle, a name: ‘McCallister’.”
Abel tilted his head, then replied. “A third man.”
“Yup.”
“What are you thinking, Sam?”
“I don’t know what I think for sure, Mr. Murphy. But it don’t look good. I got a bad feeling about that stranger.”
“You think he stole someone’s horse and gun?”
Sam’s pipe used up, he tapped it out on his knee. “That’s my first thought. But why is he covered from head to toe in burns? A naked man don’t make a good robber.”
Abel shook his head. “No, he doesn’t. Maybe he’s the one got robbed.” He tapped his own pipe out on his knee. “You’re right, Sam.”
“Sir?”
“This is strange. I guess we’ll wait for Mr. Pernell, Masters, McCallister, or other to wake up and see what he can tell us.” Sam nodded in agreement. “But we’ll be cautious.”
They sat rocking in silence for a moment, then Sam asked, “You want me to go to the marshal in the morning?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary just yet, Sam. Let’s see if he survives the night first. Then we can see where to go from there.”
With that, Molly exited the house, her sleeves rolled up and her hair disheveled. She wiped a hand across her sweaty forehead and exhaled. “It’s nice to get some fresh air out here,” she said, taking in a deep breath through her nose.
Abel closed his bible and took off his glasses. Before he could ask, Molly said, “He still hasn’t come to. But his fever is holding steady, which is good for now, and he certainly smells better now that he’s been thoroughly cleaned.”
Abel said, “Good to hear. Thank you for taking care of him, Molly. I know it’s not how you wanted to spend a day off from the store.”
Molly collapsed into the chair next to him. “It’s okay, Pa. Now that he’s been cleaned and dressed, there’s not much more to do than wait.”
The three sat in silence for a moment, taking in the cool night air and staring off into the clear, black sky, speckled with starlight. Abel broke the silence by asking his daughter, “Molly, do you think we should be concerned about our own safety?”
Molly gave her father a puzzled look. “What would we have to worry about? He’s completely harmless. He will be for days if he lives.”
“Sam says all his property is from three different men.”
“Curious,” said Molly. I don’t know why that would be, but it seems to me that if any wrong’s been done, it’s been done to him. It’s not just the burns he’s suffering from. His face is battered like he’s been beaten. His back is covered in lacerations like he’s been whipped. His legs and chest are torn up and had dirt in the wounds. I think he was dragged.”
“Dear God,” muttered Abel. “ Who could have done this to him?”
Molly shrugged. “Who knows? But the other question is, ‘Where are the people who did this?’”
Sam added. “And are they gonna come looking for him?”
