Redemption

Nine

The morning light found him on the move, walking with an easy stride and alert clear eyes. He’d slept fairly well and woke feeling refreshed and ready for the day. He had a mile-eating gait, serving him well for the last three days and he did not tire easily. In the distance rose the silhouette of buildings and his heart quickened. The settlement.

Rumbling wheels made him turn slightly and he saw a large wagon pulled by oxen approaching. An old man with a large floppy hat over his head managed the reins. He pulled the wagon to a stop when he saw the man on foot.

“You need a lift stranger?”

“I’m going there,” Lane indicated the town. “Are you heading in that direction?”

“Not planning to stop there, but I can drop you.” The old man spat into the dust on the other side of the wagon. “Hop aboard if you’ve a mind to.”

“I have nothing to give you in exchange,” he warned but the old man shrugged.

Climbing up next to the driver he held out his hand. The old man took it, and they shook firmly.

“Chester,” the old man sized up the younger man and cracked a smile. “I hope you’re a talker, mister, or this will be one quiet ride.”

“I do not mind silence,”

The wagon groaned and the wheels creaked as the oxen began moving again. As the sun rose further above the horizon, he watched the buildings far ahead take shape. The old man glanced curiously at him from time to time, but Lane ignored him, keeping a wary eye on the area around them. Harmony had his situation pegged. His enemies knew him.

“Where you from?” The old man spoke after a long while. “Seems like I should know you,”

“I’ve been here and there,” Deliberately vague, he was suddenly alert. “I can’t say you look familiar.”

“Inhospitable territory to be coming out of,” Chester continued. “What were you doing out there all alone?”

“On a journey,” He gave the old man a sideways glance. “Just seeing the country.”

“Walkabout,” Chester grunted softly, “didn’t think you blokes took to those.”

Picking up on that, he kept his expression and tone neutral.

“Who doesn’t?”

“No offense, mister, I just figured you would have stuck a little closer to civilization.”

“Who do you think I am that my being out here should surprise you?”

“None of my business, son.” Chester kept his gaze strictly on the road. “If you like a walkabout, that’s not my affair.”

“You make a man feel careful, Chester.” Bright, hard eyes regarded the cragged face. “Should I be worried about you?”

“Me?” The old man barked out a laugh. “I’m no threat to anyone, son, no one at all. Maybe I ought to be leery of you!”

“Perhaps,” he softened it with a mild grin. “I cannot swear to being a decent fellow.”

“You’re in the right place then,” the old man grinned suddenly. “Australia isn’t a place for proper decent folks.”

“No?” Smile still in place, his nerves were beginning to jump. Intuition? “Then what are you doing here?”

Pulling up the sleeve on his right arm he showed Lane the mottled flesh of his wrist. P-M was branded there, and Chester chuckled at his expression.