Blood Gold Read Free

to their admonishments, and replied with sullen agreements. But Rusty’s treachery had taken root in his mind and was thrusting revengeful tendrils into every fibre of his being.
    When his two carers eventually trusted him enough to leave him, he lay back and stared at the ceiling. But he’d started counting.
    When he judged that thirty minutes had passed, he pushed back the blanket and swung his legs to the floor.
    He sat a moment, willing the dizziness to depart, then rolled forward. On his feet, he straightened as much as he could then tottered back and forth, but his legs supported him. Smiling now, he shuffled across the floor to the window and peered outside, confirming that he was on the first floor.
    The sun was high and other than a row of horses tethered outside the saloon, Destitution’s only road was deserted.
    He shuffled to the door, levered it open an inch, and peered through the gap. Nobody was in the corridor. Only subdued chatter from the saloon drifted up the stairs.
    Then, having completed the maximum he thought he could achieve for his first real foray out of bed, he rolled back into bed.
    Each half-hour, he repeated this exercise, andeach time he was quicker, the dizziness was less, his stride was more confident and, best of all, he learned how to avoid damaging his chest. The wound only throbbed with a dull ache.
    On his fourth journey he rummaged through the drawers, finding his clothing in one and a cudgel in another. He grinned and secreted the weapon beneath his bedclothes beside his right leg.
    Late in the afternoon, Gideon looked in on him.
    ‘You’re looking brighter,’ he said.
    Patrick nodded. ‘I feel brighter.’
    ‘In that case you can answer a question.’ Gideon slammed his hands on his hips. ‘What in tarnation did you think you were doing attacking Rusty?’
    Patrick jutted his chin. ‘That ain’t your concern.’
    ‘Rusty saved your life, but you tried to strangle him.’
    ‘It’s between him and me.’ Patrick took a deep breath and fingered the cudgel. He forced his shoulders to slump and provided his most disarming smile. ‘But I get hot-headed sometimes. And I’ve thought things through. Perhaps if Rusty still wants to see me, I’ll be more reasonable.’
    ‘Glad to hear it. But you won’t get the chance. Rusty just left town. He left you this.’ Gideon extracted a wad of bills from his pocket and held them out to Patrick, but as Patrick just glared at them, he dropped them on the bed. ‘I’ve already taken a cut for your care.’
    Patrick released his grip on the cudgel and with an outstretched finger, riffled through the bills, counting over fifty dollars.
    ‘Where did he get this? Jack left us with nothing.’
    ‘He didn’t say.’
    ‘Thanks, I suppose.’ Patrick slotted the cash under the pillow. ‘Suppose he’s going after Jack Wolf. As will I as soon as you stop doctoring me.’
    ‘In your state you can’t take on the likes of that bandit.’
    Patrick furrowed his brow and leaned forward as far as his encased chest would allow.
    ‘How come you know about him?’
    ‘Last week Jack rested up in Destitution. He got into a fight with another lowlife, Salvador Milano. He’d have killed Salvador if that varmint hadn’t have got himself some sense and run. Then Jack headed north, where he met you when you were unlucky enough to be heading south. I didn’t see him, but from what I heard, he isn’t someone I’d risk arguing with, however much gold he stole from me.’
    ‘Ain’t looking for your advice.’ Patrick lay back and closed his eyes.
    Gideon stood over him a moment, tutting, then left the room.
    Patrick listened to Gideon’s footsteps recede down the corridor, then threw back the blanket.
    He shuffled to the drawers and removed his clothes. With care he dressed, discovering that he had to stay hunched to avoid the painful results of stretching.
    He edged to the door and outside, keeping his back to the wall as he sidled down the