Chapter 16
Deadshot was done talking to the kid. There was nothing left to say, and his meat was burning, so he focused his attention on the pan.
He removed it from the fire and flipped the piece of meat.
It was a little crispy on one side, but that was okay.
He liked it that way. Looking up from the pan, he saw that the kid had made no attempt to get up from where he was sitting.
“I’m not gonna help you,” Deadshot stated, just to be clear.
“Please,” the kid begged. “You’re the best. Sheriff Stewart said that he’s never seen or heard of another bounty hunter as good as you.”
Deadshot smiled at that. He wasn’t vain, but it was good to hear, nonetheless. He placed the meat on a plate and sat back in his chair. “Hire more than one,” he suggested. “Get two. Hell, get three or four to work together.”
“I don’t want another bounty hunter. I want you. I trust you.”
Deadshot sucked in his breath and shook his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, kid.”
“You’re my only hope. They’re my only hope.” The kid’s voice was low, and Deadshot wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to hear the last part.
Quincy was a cruel man. Deadshot had heard the stories and seen the aftermath but had never considered going after him.
He wasn’t afraid of him. No, what he had told the kid was true.
If the kid had asked him when he was younger, he would have accepted the offer.
Deadshot had simply never gone after him because he had a long list of outlaws he wanted to capture before he retired, and tracking them all down took a lot of time.
Quincy had only really become infamous in the last couple of years before Deadshot had retired, and by then, Deadshot had already started taking on easier targets.
Deadshot stood up and grabbed the plate. “It’s a long way back home,” he told the kid. “You can stay here tonight. I’ll even share my supper with you, but you have to leave in the morning.”
***
That night, Deadshot did not sleep well.
His dreams were plagued by memories of the day his family was massacred, images of the kid’s ranch being ransacked, and the kid begging him for help.
He kept waking up, and the more it all worked on his mind, the more he wondered if it was possible that the kid’s mother and sister were actually still alive.
The amount of gold that the kid had accidentally stolen from Quincy wasn’t something to be laughed at.
What if Quincy had taken the women with him and was keeping them hostage?
Deadshot had never heard of Quincy doing something like that, but he wouldn’t put it past the man.
Maybe he was just lying low and would later request his gold as ransom.
Deadshot wasn’t sure whether he should share his thoughts with the kid.
Odds were that he was wrong and that their bodies were at the bottom of a lake or river somewhere.
The possibility that they might be alive and in desperate need of help was clawing at his mind, though.
If there was even the slightest chance that they were alive, he had to help them.
Feeling frustrated at the idea, Deadshot got dressed and made his way to the living area that functioned as a kitchen, dining room, and living room. His body felt tense, but his knee was pain-free since he had been resting it. That would soon change.
Deadshot placed his lantern on the table and lit the stove.
He was hungry and in desperate need of coffee.
Once the water was boiling, he started preparing the oats.
It was a filling meal and a good way to start the day.
It didn’t take long, and soon enough, Deadshot placed two bowls of oats and two cups of coffee on the small wooden table.
It was still early, and the kid was sleeping on the couch.
Deadshot had given him a blanket and a pillow after they had eaten and then escaped to his room.
They hadn’t spoken much as they ate, mostly because Deadshot wolfed down his food so that he didn’t have to engage in any more conversation.
The kid tried, though. He was a stubborn boy who refused to give up.
Deadshot couldn’t blame him for wanting to save his mother and sister.
He wished he had somebody to help him when his family had been murdered.
He had been so young, and there had been no way for him to get revenge.
He had endless nightmares after the attack.
The image of the outlaw who had murdered his family was engraved in his mind, but he had never come across him again.
Even during his time as a bounty hunter, he had never seen him or come across a wanted picture with his face on it.
Getting revenge would have eased something inside him, but it simply wasn’t meant to be.
Maybe he could give that to the kid and somehow, in the process, rid himself of some of the guilt he had been carrying around with him all these years for not having been able to save his own family.
Deadshot walked over to the kid and shook his shoulder. “Wake up.”
The kid stirred, groaned, and then sat bolt upright, confusion clear on his face. Deadshot almost laughed at how comical it looked but managed to suppress it.
“Breakfast is on the table,” Deadshot informed him before making his way back to the kitchen and taking a seat. Not even a minute later, the kid joined him.
“Thank you,” the kid said, taking a bite of his oats without complaint.
Deadshot didn’t reply. He wasn’t much of a talker and had no idea what to say to a kid. Sure, he was once that age, but that was a really long time ago.
“I’ll help you,” Deadshot finally said when they were done eating.
The kid’s head whipped up, his eyes big as they landed on Deadshot. “Really?”
Deadshot nodded. “Yeah, guess I had a change of heart.”
“Thank you!” the kid exclaimed as he jumped up and ran to the couch, grabbing the saddlebag. He dashed back to Deadshot and stuffed the bag into his arms. “Thank you so much. You can have the horse, too, or anything I have at the ranch that you want.”
The kid was overexcited and rambling, so Deadshot cut him off. “I don’t want the gold or anything else.”
“I don’t understand.”
Deadshot stood up, handed the bag back to the kid, and started clearing the table.
“It’s really not that complicated,” he pointed out.
“I’m going to track down Quincy, find out what happened to your mother and sister, and I don’t need any payment.
” He hesitated for a second and then added, “I should probably take the gold with me, just in case.”
Deadshot was hoping the kid wouldn’t ask why, and to his relief, the kid didn’t.
“Of course, whatever you need,” the kid agreed immediately. “I’ll just have to go home to pack my things. I don’t even know what to bring. I’ve never gone on a mission like—”
Deadshot held up his hand, cutting him off. “Hold on. You want to come with?”
“I have to,” the kid replied. “I can’t just wait around at home for who knows how long. I’d go insane.”
Deadshot fully understood, but taking the kid with him complicated things significantly.
It was going to be a dangerous journey, and Deadshot would be responsible for keeping the kid safe.
He wanted to refuse and tell the kid that there was no way he was going with him, but instead, he agreed.
It was something that the kid had to do.
“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, voicing his thoughts.
“I’ll try to keep you safe, but I can’t guarantee anything. ”
“It’s all right. I understand,” the kid replied immediately. “I’m old enough to take care of myself.”
Deadshot raised a brow. “Just how old are you exactly?”
“Fourteen,” the kid said. “My birthday is in two months.”
Deadshot could remember being that age. His body was still fresh and young, and it felt like he could do anything. “That’s a good age. Appreciate it while you can.”
The kid nodded. “If you say so.”
“Trust me, when you get to your forties, you’re gonna miss being this young.”
“Maybe.” The kid shrugged, still clutching the gold. “My name’s Rider Ripley, by the way. I don’t think I’ve ever actually introduced myself.”
Like his age, it was a good name, strong and bold. “Well, I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Deadshot replied. “But so far, you’ve brought me nothing but trouble.”
“Don’t forget about the gold. I’ve brought that too,” the kid pointed out.
“Like I said, I don’t want or need the gold.” Deadshot turned on his heels and headed toward his room. “I need to pack. We’ll gather everything we need, go to town for supplies, and then to your ranch to get your things.”
The kid followed after him. “How long do you think it’ll take?”
“No idea,” Deadshot replied. “But I’m guessing it won’t be a quick mission. Finding Quincy isn’t going to be easy.”