Chapter 20
The kid might not have known much about the world outside of his ranch, but he was doing okay.
It didn’t take him too long to collect all the wood, and he carried the branches in big bunches, showing that he wasn’t too weak.
He also managed to get the fire started pretty quickly, and soon enough, Deadshot had a pot of water boiling on the fire so that they could have coffee with their supper.
Coffee always made things better, and Deadshot was looking forward to a warm cup of bitter liquid to ease his worries.
Supper was a simple meal made up of tinned meat and cornbread.
Bread wasn’t always easily accessible while traveling, so when they had it, it was a luxury.
Deadshot had no idea what the kid had been eating for the last few weeks or where he had been staying for that matter.
None of that mattered. What Deadshot did know was that the kid was going to have to get used to living off the bare minimum, and that soon enough, they were going to have to start hunting.
Meat was a great source of protein and strength, and they were going to need all the strength they could get.
Deadshot dished up some of the dried meat, which he had warmed up, along with the cornbread and some beans, and handed it to the kid.
“Thanks,” the kid mumbled as he started wolfing down the food.
“You hungry?” Deadshot asked, raising a brow. The kid was eating like he hadn’t had a proper meal in a long time.
“Yeah,” the kid replied. “Haven’t been eating much while I was searching.”
Deadshot had heard that boys his age needed a lot of food to sustain their growing bodies.
When he was that age, he was still living with his aunt, uncle, nephews, and nieces.
Food was not something he had to worry about.
His aunt always made sure that there was a decent meal on the table every night.
She was the kind of woman who spent her days in the kitchen baking biscuits and cakes.
They never went without, and hunger wasn’t really something that Deadshot ever thought about.
“I made you breakfast this morning and shared my supper with you last night,” Deadshot pointed out.
The kid shrugged. “I’m always hungry. Ma always laughed because I ate more than any of them, but still didn’t put on weight.”
Deadshot gave the kid a once-over. Now that he really looked, he had to admit that the kid was skinny.
If he didn’t know better, he would say that the kid had lived on the street, but sometimes people just stayed skinny no matter how much they ate.
The kid was also still very young, so maybe he would gain some weight as he grew older.
“I’ll feed you,” Deadshot assured him. “But we’re going to have to do some hunting if you want three filling meals a day.”
“I’ve never hunted before,” the kid replied between bites.
“Figured as much. It’s not that complicated. As long as your aim is true, you’ll be fine.”
The kid frowned. “Then it’s probably best you do the shooting.”
Well, at least the kid was being honest. If there was one thing that Deadshot did not like, it was people who pretended to be something they’re not.
He’d rather take an honest person who admitted their mistakes and shortcomings over somebody who claimed that they could do something and then failed miserably.
“You’re gonna have to learn to be self-sufficient,” Deadshot stated. “I’m not planning on dying, but if something happened to me, you need to be able to take care of yourself.”
The kid looked terrified at the idea, but being scared was a good thing. It would motivate him to learn.
“I can take care of myself,” the kid argued half-heartedly. “This is just all very new to me.”
“Of course you can,” Deadshot stated, raising a brow as if to challenge him.
“I’ll have you know that I’ve been living by myself these last few weeks, and I haven’t died yet. I even fixed the house.”
At fourteen, the kid was technically old enough to be living by himself and surviving, but he was still young and shouldn’t really have to. “Don’t you have family who you can live with?”
“No.” The kid shook his head. “There are people in town who offered for me to come stay with them, but I don’t belong with them. I belong at my house with my family.”
Deadshot’s stomach contracted. Losing people you love wasn’t easy.
He had gone through that once before, and he vowed never to go through it again.
It was easier not to love than to love and lose somebody.
That was one of the reasons why he never settled down and never married.
He preferred being on his own. That way, he had nothing to lose and nothing to fear.
“You shouldn’t be living alone at your age,” Deadshot pointed out. “When this is all over and done with, you should take one of those families up on their offer.”
“Hopefully, when this is over, I won’t have to.”
Deadshot had come to the realization that maybe the kid’s mother and sister were actually still alive, but he didn’t want to share that realization with the kid just yet.
He didn’t want to give him any false hope.
If they were alive out there somewhere, he would find them and rescue them, but if they weren’t, it was better for the kid to be prepared.
Deadshot shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“You really don’t think they’re alive?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think,” Deadshot stated. “We’ll find Quincy, and if they are alive, we’ll find them. Whichever way, you’ll learn what happened and get closure. That’s all I can offer you.”
The kid was quiet for a long time after that, looking deep in thought. Deadshot did not ask him what he was thinking about. It didn’t matter to him, and he was grateful for the silence. All the talking had given him a headache. They ate in silence, and then Deadshot poured them some coffee.
“Why did you agree to help me?” the kid asked after a while.
“Don’t know,” Deadshot replied with a grunt.
“You were determined not to. I really thought I was going to have to find somebody else, but then you suddenly changed your mind. Something must have happened.”
Deadshot did not want to tell the kid about his dream or the realization that he had—about Quincy not killing his mother and sister because of the horse and the gold.
“I guess I just needed one last adventure,” Deadshot said.
It wasn’t true at all. He would much rather have stayed at home than gone searching for Quincy.
It wasn’t that Deadshot didn’t miss being out on the road tracking criminals and bringing them to justice, but he knew that his body couldn’t handle it anymore.
He had come to accept that he couldn’t do the things he used to do when he was younger.
His body simply didn’t allow it anymore.
In fact, he was hoping that he would be able to get home in one piece, but he wasn’t so sure that it was a possibility.
That was why he was so worried about the boy being self-sufficient.
He didn’t know the kid, but he had agreed to help him, and because of that, Deadshot felt responsible for the kid.
Deadshot never gave up, and he would use the last ounce of his strength to find Quincy, find out the truth about the kid’s mother and sister, and bring them all back home safely if it was possible.
Deadshot shifted where he sat, and his left knee protested in pain, reminding him just how broken his body really was. All the years of bounty hunting had eased his soul, but they had taken a toll on his body. He did not regret it for a moment, though.
The kid was full of questions, but Deadshot had talked enough for one day.
He needed to rest, and in all honesty, he wasn’t sure what to tell the kid.
Should he be completely honest with him?
Or should he try to ease the kid’s mind and make him feel hopeful?
Deadshot always preferred the truth, but not everybody could handle it.
Sighing, he lay down and closed his eyes. “It’s time to sleep,” he stated, cutting off the kid’s rambling.
“Oh, all right.”
There were some shuffling noises, and when Deadshot opened his eyes again, the kid was lying on his bedroll, staring up at the night sky.
“It’s beautiful,” he whispered.
“It sure is,” Deadshot agreed. “Now get some sleep; we’re heading out early tomorrow morning.”