Then silence. Too much silence. Rebecca glanced back. The stranger had taken one bite. He wasn't chewing anymore.
He sat motionless on the floor, one knee raised, the bowl held between both enormous hands. His eyes lifted to hers. I've never had anything like this. He said it so quietly she almost thought she had misunderstood him. Rebecca looked at the stew.
It's smoked beef and whatever Mr. Belle forgot he owned. No. The word came softer. His eyes stayed on her.
I mean, Thomas Reed suddenly made a choking sound. The bowl hit the floorboards. The stranger moved instantly. Tom. Rebecca was already beside them.
Thomas's breathing had changed, shorter now. His skin looked pale even in the orange stove light. “Don't lift him,” Rebecca said. The giant froze. “Most men his size,” she thought, would have ignored her.
“He didn't.” “What do you need?” “More blankets, hot water, and wake whoever knows horses best.” Amos frowned. “Horses? If the road clears enough before dawn, someone rides for the doctor. The room came alive. A kettle went onto the stove.
Men began discussing the crossing. Someone found dry cloth. Through it all, the stranger stayed beside Thomas. Rebecca watched him talk to the injured cowboy. Not loudly, not with the hard encouragement men sometimes used when they were frightened.
He leaned close. You're at Miller's Crossing, Tom. Stove's going. You're warm. Just stay here with me.
Thomas's hand moved weakly. The giant took it. Hours passed that way. The storm weakened sometime after 3. By 4, the rain against the roof had softened from a roar to a steady tapping.
Thomas's breathing settled. Amos found a rancher willing to attempt the road at first light and bring the doctor back if the crossing was passable. Rebecca sat against the wall with a cup of bitter station coffee cooling between her palms. Across the stove, the stranger remained on the floor. He looked too large to be tired.
Yet tired he was. His head rested against the wall. His knees were bent because there wasn't room to stretch his legs without blocking the walkway. Rebecca nodded toward Thomas. You did well.
The stranger looked down at the sleeping man. I carried him. That's not what I meant. His eyes returned to her. She could feel him trying to understand.
Rebecca looked at Thomas. Some people get rough when they're frightened. You got gentler. For several seconds, the only sound was rain dripping from the eaves. Then the stranger looked at his own hands.
He's worked with me six years. Rebecca took another sip of coffee. That explains why you carried him. Does it? It ought to.
Something close to a smile touched his mouth. Gone almost immediately. Rebecca noticed. She pretended she hadn't. A faint gray light was beginning to show through the eastern window.