Page 89 of Ransom
Coyote packed both nostrils with something dark, juniper and pine, before moving to the ribs. He pressed along each one and sang, "Doe, rae, mi…Doe, rae, mi…" Then he brought a long strip of cloth, and Ransom helped him sit me up enough to get it under me, and the two of them wrapped my chest firm but not tight.
When the wrap was tight, Coyote retrieved the tea, which hadn't whistled yet, and poured me a cup. "Drink this. It'll taste bitter, but it helps with the pain."
I drank it. It tasted like the ground after a hard rain. He nodded, satisfied when I made a face, and took the cup back.
"You'll sleep in about ten minutes. Don't fight that either."
"Coyote, I need to check on the ranch," Ransom said.
Coyote shook his head. "You need to stay here. Shadows aren't allowed to wander. It's not my rule. It's theirs. So you stay with him. I'm going to ride out for your corpses. I'll pass over the ridge on my way and tell you what I see when I get back. Deal?"
"Deal," Ransom agreed.
He stood and went to the back of the cave. Ransom stayed where he was, on his heels by my hip, and I turned my head toward him carefully and found his face.
His face was still. The blood had dried on his knuckles and gone brown at the edges. He looked like Ransom, the same Ransom who'd sat across a stove in a line shack, the same Ransom who'd eaten Sierra's eggs at the breakfast table at Pae Saco. The killing had come up out of him as easily as pouring a cup of coffee, and then he'd gone right back to being the man who poured it.
"Hey," I said.
"Hey."
"C'mere."
He folded down by the pallet and put his hand back where it had been. I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them.
"You good?" I said.
"I'm here," he said.
"That ain't what I asked."
"I know."
I was too tired to push it. The tea was making me drowsy, and I had the sneaking suspicion there might've been an illegal substance or two in it. It didn't matter. I had what I needed. Ransom was here with me, and that's all I wanted.
I woke up with my mouth tasting like the ground after rain and a dull ache in my ribs. The cave was darker. The fire had burned down and somebody had banked it. Ransom sat against the cave wall by my head, hat off, knees up, one hand loose around the pistol on the ground next to him.
"How long was I out?" My voice was thick.
"Two and change."
"Coyote?"
"Not yet."
I turned my head. The cave was the same. The world had kept going while I'd been under it, and that was a little disappointing.
Hooves came up the wash fast, and I fought to sit up.
Ransom was on his feet before I'd gotten my elbows under me, hat on, hand at the back of his belt where the pistol sat.
"Ransom!" Coyote, from outside, half a shout. "Ransom, get out here."
Ransom looked at me once, then went.
I lay there listening through the cave mouth. I caught most of it. Coyote's voice came too fast and climbed at the ends of his words. The strange, smug calm he'd had on the way in was gone. There was smoke down at the ranch, wrong color and wrong kind. He'd seen it from the rise.
Ransom said something I didn't catch.
