Chapter 43
“Is it really over?” Rachel asked. Her voice came out softly.
Blaze looked at her from where he stood in the dusty street. Kane’s body lay covered by a tarp now, and the deputy had already been taken to the doctor’s office. The townsfolk had begun to drift back into daylight like ghosts returning from hiding.
“It’s over,” Blaze said.
“You’re hurt,” Rachel replied, taking a step back to examine him more closely.
“Just a scratch,” Blaze replied.
“Don’t lie to me.”
Blaze glanced down. The line across his ribs had bled through his shirt. A dark patch was spreading slowly. He hadn’t even noticed until now.
“Guess I’ll live,” he said, shrugging one shoulder.
Rachel’s lip trembled before she caught it. “You scared me half to death.”
“Weren’t exactly my plan,” Blaze said with a small smile.
“I thought I lost you,” Rachel whispered.
“Not yet,” Blaze said. “Not till the good Lord says so.”
Behind them, a low voice said, “Seems we made it just in time.”
Blaze turned to see Marisol walking down the street with her Hawken Plains rifle slung over her shoulder. Graycloud was right beside her.
“Glad to see you two,” Blaze said.
Rachel stepped back, wiping her eyes. “You must be the ones who helped him.”
“That’s right,” Marisol said, smiling faintly. “You must be Rachel.”
Rachel nodded. “I am. And I owe you both more than I can express.”
“No debt between friends,” Marisol said. “We just did what needed doing.”
Graycloud gave a small grunt of agreement. “Your brother fought like a spirit of the storm.”
Rachel smiled, though her eyes still glistened. “He’s always been too stubborn to die.”
“Guess it runs in the family,” Blaze said.
Marisol’s eyes softened. “You should sit. That wound’s bleeding more than you think.”
“I’ll get him to the doctor,” Rachel said quickly.
“He’s patching up the deputy,” Marisol said. “I saw that he was shot in the shoulder, but he’ll live.”
“Brave man,” Blaze said. “Tried to step in, even when he didn’t have to.”
Graycloud folded his arms. “Honor lives in unexpected places.”
“That it does,” Blaze replied.
They started walking toward the doctor’s office, the wooden boardwalk creaking under their boots. The town was coming alive again. Blaze heard the sound of water being tossed from buckets, the murmur of people cleaning broken glass, and the local saloonkeeper sweeping bullet shells into a pan.
“You sure you’re alright?” Rachel asked, glancing at his side.
“I’ll be fine,” Blaze said. “Had worse.”
“Don’t make me prove you wrong,” she muttered.
They reached the doctor’s door just as it opened. The old man wiped his hands on a rag, his spectacles glinting in the afternoon light.
“You again,” he said. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“Is the deputy still breathing?” Blaze asked.
“Stubborn as a mule. He’ll live.” The doctor’s gaze fell to Blaze’s bloodied shirt. “You, on the other hand, might not if you keep standin’ there.”
“I’ve been told that before,” Blaze said.
“Get inside,” he replied.
Rachel followed him in while Marisol and Graycloud lingered near the doorway. The room smelled of whiskey and iodine. Blaze eased onto the cot while the doctor unbuttoned his shirt and inspected the wound.
“Through and through,” the doctor said. “Didn’t hit anything vital.”
“Lucky shot,” Blaze said.
“Luck’s runnin’ thin for you, son,” the doctor said, cleaning the cut. “You might wanna stop making enemies that shoot straight.”
“I’ll think on it,” Blaze replied with a small smile.
He found comfort in the doctor’s words. He knew so little of what he had been through.
Now, life was only supposed to get better. The nightmare was over.
Rachel stood beside the cot with her arms crossed. “You’ll think on it? That’s what you always say.”
“Means I’ll probably do the opposite,” Blaze replied.
She tried to scowl, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “You never change.”
The doctor wrapped the bandage tightly. “There,” he said. “You’ll be sore for a while. No heavy liftin’, no ridin’ hard for a few days.”
“Appreciate it,” Blaze said, getting to his feet.
“You’ll be back, kid,” the doctor said, “if you continue getting yourself into trouble.”
“Hope you’re wrong about that,” Blaze replied.
Outside, the light was softer. The heat was fading as the sun dipped lower behind the ridge. Marisol leaned against the porch rail, her rifle resting beside her. Graycloud was talking quietly with a few townsfolk who had gathered nearby.
Rachel stepped beside him. “You all really went through hell, didn’t you?”
“You could say that,” Blaze replied.
“Wilder’s gone?” she asked.
“Gone,” Blaze said. “I shot him . . . and then the mine collapsed on him. I saw it. He got what was coming.”
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then Rachel said softly, “Good.”
“You sure about that?” Blaze asked, looking at her.
She swallowed. “He deserved worse. For what he did. For what he tried to do.”
Blaze nodded. “Yeah.”
Marisol looked between them, sensing what remained unspoken. “You both deserve peace now.”
“Peace,” Blaze said. “Ain’t heard that word in a long time. Might be hard, thanks to Pa.”
Rachel’s brow furrowed. “What did they tell you?”
Blaze reached into his coat and pulled out a worn, folded wanted poster. He handed it to her. “That.”
She unfolded it slowly. The sketch was rough but recognizable—their father’s face with a different name scrawled beneath it. Rachel’s eyes widened as she stared at it.
“It’s him,” she said, her breath catching.
“Yeah,” Blaze said. “Seems he rode with men like Wilder once. Maybe even Kane. Guess I was wrong about the kind of man he was.”
Rachel stared at the paper for a long time before folding it again. “Maybe he did bad things,” she said finally. “But that doesn’t mean he stayed bad.”
Blaze looked at her. “You believe that?”
“I have to,” she said. “Because if he couldn’t change, then none of us could.”
Blaze smiled faintly. “You always were the smart one.”
“She’s right,” Marisol said, stepping closer. “A man’s past ain’t all he is. It’s what he does afterward that matters.”
Graycloud nodded once. “A man is measured by what he protects, not by what he destroys.”
Blaze let out a long breath. “Then maybe there’s hope for me yet.”
“There’s more than hope,” Rachel said. “There’s family. And that’s enough.”
Blaze reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve gotten wise since I left.”
“Had to,” she said. “Someone had to keep things running while you were off saving the world.”
He chuckled. “Didn’t do much saving. Just stopped folks from making it worse.”
“That’s good enough,” she said.
Down the street, a bell rang faintly. It was the church bell, calling for evening prayer. The sound drifted softly over the town, echoing through the calm that followed the chaos.
Blaze looked out across Red Rock Crossing. The town was scarred but alive. Lanterns glowed in windows, and the faint hum of conversation rose as life slowly returned to normal.
“Feels strange,” he said quietly. “Like everything’s still and moving at the same time.”
Marisol smiled. “That’s what peace sounds like.”
Graycloud adjusted his hat. “We should rest. The fight is done.”
“Maybe for now,” Blaze said.
Rachel looked at him. “What happens next?”
“Don’t know,” he said. “But we’ll figure it out.”
“Together?” she asked.
“Together,” Blaze said.
The doctor’s door opened again, and Deputy Miles stepped out with his arm in a sling.
“Guess I still got one good shoulder left, kid,” he said with a grin.
“You did fine, Deputy,” Blaze said.
“Couldn’t just stand there and let that snake shoot you,” Deputy Miles replied.
“Well, next time, let me handle the snakes,” Blaze said.
The deputy chuckled. “You handled him plenty.” He turned to Rachel and tipped his hat. “Miss.”
“Thank you for trying,” she said softly.
“Just doing my job.”
He nodded to Blaze again before heading down the street, slower than before but walking tall. The light faded to gold.
Blaze walked over to the doctor’s office and sat down on the steps of the porch, the weight of the day finally pressing down. Rachel sat beside him. Marisol leaned on the rail, watching the horizon. Meanwhile, Graycloud stood quiet as stone, his gaze turned toward the far hills.
“Strange thing,” Blaze said after a while. “You fight so long, then when it’s over, you don’t quite know what to do with yourself.”
Rachel smiled faintly. “Then maybe it’s time to stop fighting.”
“Maybe,” he replied.
Marisol turned. “You’ll find somethin’ worth building again. That’s what comes after the dust settles.”
Blaze met her eyes. “You sound like you’ve been there before.”
“I have,” she said. “And it’s a long road back.”
He nodded slowly. “Then I reckon I’ll start walking.”
The street had gone quiet again. It felt earned. For the first time in a long while, Blaze believed there might be something left to rebuild.
“Come on,” Rachel said softly. “Let’s go and get some food. I don’t think Mrs. Albright would mind.”
Blaze looked at her, then at Marisol and Graycloud. “Yeah,” he said. “That sounds good.”
The four of them straightened and walked into the fading light. It would take a while for things to get back to normal, but Blaze was ready for it.