The Forgotten Outlaw (Preview)

Chapter One

New Mexico Territory, 1885

“Hands up or I’ll kill you!” 

“Please don’t shoot! Don’t—” 

The plea was instantly cut off by a gunshot, and the man opened his eyes. His head throbbed and smoke filled the overturned train car. Bodies were strewn about and blood was everywhere. 

“Hurry up!” the first voice spoke once more, and two more voices answered. 

The man’s mind raced as he tried to make sense of the situation. He had no memory of anything. Where was the train supposed to be going? Why was he there? 

Perhaps the most important question of all: Who was he?

The man dragged himself upright. As he stood, he rose between two seats. With the train car turned entirely on its side, he stood on the window, his boots breaking glass. He gingerly lifted his feet, standing on the frame rather than the glass. 

Screams erupted behind him, followed by more gunshots. The man’s heart raced as he whipped around. 

The back door of the train car had fallen open, revealing other cars still upright on the tracks. He looked toward the front of the car where the other door was also open. He was in the car directly behind the engine, and both his car and the engine itself were on their side. 

“Get the money!” 

“Grab whatever valuables you can!” 

“Where’s Jackson?” 

“It doesn’t matter. Get the gold and let’s go!” 

The voices flooded the man’s ears. He held his breath, pressing himself against the roof of the car—the roof that had now become the side wall. He heard the men walking outside, their boots crunching on the shale beside the tracks. 

As he let out the breath, the train car seemed to spin around him. He felt something wet on the side of his face and realized he’d hit his head hard enough to split open his scalp. Blood trickled freely down the side of his face, and he dragged the back of his hand over his forehead, trying to keep the flow from stinging his eyes. 

Everything hurt. He must have been thrown around quite a bit when the train had fallen onto its side. The repugnant odor of blood and smoke filled his nostrils. The engine was on fire. 

Clearly, the train had been attacked by robbers. He’d counted three different voices belonging to the men who seemed to be robbing the train, which told him they must be part of a gang. 

I suppose I didn’t plan for this. Wherever I was going, I didn’t likely think I’d wind up in this situation. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to die here.

Adrenaline flooded his veins as he held his breath. 

“Is anyone still alive in that car?” one of the voices outside asked. As it spoke, the question was punctuated by a knocking on the side of the car. 

“Didn’t look like it when I walked through,” the second voice answered. “They were thrown around pretty hard when the train crashed.” 

“The engineer’s dead, too,” the first speaker said. “Cuts down on witnesses.” 

“If you want to ensure we don’t have any witnesses,” the second speaker said, “that can be arranged.” 

“That’s a lot of bullets,” the first man said. “But why not?” 

The pair laughed, and the man heard more gunshots. His stomach twisted. He had no idea how large the train was, but the screams ringing out told him there were still quite a few people alive. The thought that these men were going to kill them all made him sick. 

“Burn it down,” the first man called. Other voices told the man there were more than three in the gang, and they all sounded just as bloodthirsty as the first. “Grab whatever valuables you can, then set fire to the rest.”

He held his breath once more, listening. From the gunshots and dropping screams, he guessed the men were doing exactly as they’d been instructed.

The engine was already on fire, but the men were evidently planning to burn the rest of the train as well. He shuddered at the brutality of the robbers. These weren’t men who just wanted money. They were out for blood. 

If he meant to survive, he had to get moving. 

Despite his dizziness and scattered thoughts, the man was able to orient himself enough to get to the front of the car. The smoke billowing out of the back of the engine was thick and suffocating, but the man used it to his advantage. 

The dying screams of other passengers indicated that the gang had moved toward the back of the train, giving him the chance to slip away unnoticed. His heart went out to the others, and he silently prayed he’d been traveling alone. 

He couldn’t stomach the thought that one of those deceased passengers lying around him might have been traveling with him. The thought of leaving behind someone who may have been his friend made him feel like a traitor. But then, everyone else in the car was clearly already gone, and it wouldn’t do them any good for him to stick around. 

The man mustered all the strength he could and heaved himself up into the doorway. He swung one leg over the side, then the other. He landed on the ground with a grunt, rolling onto the rocks and into the sand. 

He was in the desert. 

New Mexico. 

The thought popped into his mind as he started running from the wreckage. The information wasn’t very helpful considering he couldn’t even remember his name, but perhaps more would come with time. 

The man looked over his shoulder as he ran. Four men were throwing lit torches at the train cars, igniting the entire thing. Each had a bandana covering the lower half of his face, as well as a hat pulled low on his brow. The man couldn’t make out any recognizable features. He turned his head away, focusing on what was ahead rather than what was behind. 

He vaguely remembered riding a black horse. Images flashed through his mind almost like a dream he could barely recollect. His knees buckled and he fell, his hands flying instinctively out in front of him. 

He realized then just how cut and bruised his hands were, but he didn’t waste time dragging himself back to his feet. His chest hurt, and he suspected he’d at least cracked a rib. But there was nothing he could do about it so close to the wreckage. 

If he was to survive, he had to put distance between himself and the robbers. 

The man forced himself to run as far as he could, climbing to the top of the nearest sand dune before stumbling over the ledge on the other side. His boots sank into the sand as his face pitched forward, and before he could even register that he was losing his balance, he rolled all the way to the ground. 

He groaned, lying face down in the sand for a few moments before he once again dragged himself to his feet. His throat burned from the smoke inhalation, and his eyes stung from the sand and bright sun. 

The sweltering heat caused his shirt to stick to his back, but the man was determined to get away. His need to survive kept him putting one foot in front of the other as the terrified screams and angry shouts behind him faded away. 

He refused to let himself think about the victims. 

There’s nothing I could have done. I don’t have a weapon. I can barely stand. If I’d stayed and tried to help someone, I would have gotten shot or burned to death myself. This is the only way.

Still, guilt weighed on his shoulders as he continued to push forward. A rocky outcropping rose in the distance, but it was the large cacti dotting the area that drew his attention. Cacti grew all over the desert, but he was encouraged by the number of plants he saw as he drew near. 

That many meant there was likely a water source. Though it was another bit of random information he didn’t know how he remembered, he didn’t question it. At least that was helpful. 

The man forced himself forward, trying to pick up his pace in the loose sand. Having a horse sure would have made the travel easier, but such a thing couldn’t be helped. If he’d been traveling with a horse on the train, it would have been near the back in the stable car. He’d have had to get around the robbers in order to find it. 

A pond came into view, and the man’s heart leaped to his throat. He was so parched, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. It felt thick and furry, and he was desperate for a drink. 

He stumbled forward, not even bothering to look around the pond before he fell to his knees. He cupped his scratched and bloody hands, dipping them into the cool water and lifting them to his lips. His throat worked as he drank greedily, dipping his hands into the water again and again as he tried to quench the thirst. 

At last, he paused. He leaned forward, looking at his reflection in the water. Perhaps if he saw his face it might jostle his memory. 

A bruised and bloody figure stared back at him. The blood came from a gash running down the right side of his temple. He had a short, stubbly beard, as though he normally shaved but hadn’t in a few days. 

His eyes were light enough to indicate they must be blue, and his unkempt hair hung loosely over his forehead, dark enough to tell him it was dark brown. His face was gaunt with a sharp jawline and bushy brows. 

Still, no name came to mind. 

Frustration welled within him and he threw his fists against the water, distorting his reflection as he let out a slew of curse words. Why couldn’t he at least remember his name? If he could only do that much, he might be able to figure out the rest of his life story by asking around. 

But who am I going to ask out here? There’s not another soul in sight. I don’t have any idea where I am or which direction to go. Think. I need to think!

He rose shakily to his feet, holding out his hand to steady himself against a boulder. The singular thought he’d had told him he was in New Mexico Territory, but what good did that do him? He didn’t know which part or how far he was from any sort of town or settlement. 

He might be in the middle of the desert for all he knew. The nearest town could be a hundred miles away. The thought was more than he could take. He refused to believe it. 

But standing and doing nothing was as quick a way to die as anything else. He had to pick a direction and start walking. 

The man took two steps and stopped once again, his entire body tensing. He’d heard something nearby, and his blood ran cold. The grunt came again, and a massive black bear stepped into view. The man’s heart sank. 

The bear lumbered toward the water but didn’t quite reach the edge before it lifted its head and sniffed the air. Seemingly intrigued, it stood on its back legs, tilting its head as it drew in deep breaths. A predator like that could smell blood, and the man was covered in it. He frantically looked around, grabbing the nearest branch. 

“Get out of here!” he screamed at the bear. His voice sounded strange. But then, he wasn’t sure what it was supposed to sound like. 

The bear seemed surprised at first but unbothered. It lowered itself to the ground and charged. 

“Get away from me!” the man screamed again, wildly swinging the branch at the predator. The bear didn’t stop, barreling toward him at full force. The man screamed again, turning just as the bear rose on its hind legs and swiped at him. 

Its claws tore into his shoulder, sending a fresh wave of searing pain through his body. But the man refused to give up. He turned and swung the branch at the bear once again, hitting it in the face. 

He aimed for the eyes and nose, trying to hit it in any tender place to drive it back. As luck would have it, one of the forked branches sticking off his makeshift weapon managed to catch the bear right in the eye. 

The animal roared in pain and fury, but it retreated. 

“That’s right,” the man shouted. “Get out of here!” 

As the bear turned, he bent and picked up rocks, throwing them after the animal to drive his point home. Two of the missiles struck the bear in the rump, encouraging it to move faster. Thankfully, it did. 

It broke into a lumbering run and disappeared around the boulders. The man stood shakily on his feet for a few more minutes before he tentatively walked forward, checking to see that the bear was truly gone. 

To his relief, it was. 

The man threw the branch away, turning back to the pond. His mind still raced as he tried to figure out what to do next, but his feet refused to obey when he tried to take a step forward. The dizziness, which had subsided after he drank the water, came back stronger than ever, and he fell to his knees. 

He looked at his hands, watching as drops of blood fell from the side of his face and landed on his forearms. His breath came in short gasps and though he tried, he couldn’t get back to his feet. 

The man crawled toward the boulders, trying to get out of the sun. His racing thoughts became increasingly incoherent, not even making sense to him. He fell forward, no longer on his hands and knees but rather on his stomach. 

With determination coursing through him, he dragged himself in the sand until he was right up against the base of the boulder. Heat radiated from the sand, but the shade from the stone gave him some relief. 

He closed his eyes, laying his head on his forearm as he tried to summon the strength to get back to his feet. If he could just stand, he could orient himself. At least, that was what he wanted to believe. 

But everything felt heavy. His body was like lead, and even raising his head felt like it would take the strength of ten men. Then, the pain faded. His heart rate spiked as he worried he might be dying, but that, too, faded within seconds. 

He opened his eyes, trying to think. But just as he did, darkness crept into the sides of his vision. The sand just inches from his face became fuzzy, then it went black entirely. 

He fell into nothingness.

Chapter Two

“Ouch! Dad blammit!” Evelyn hissed between clenched teeth. She held up her finger, watching the bead of blood forming at the tip. With a sigh, she laid the shirt she’d been mending to the side before stepping to the kitchen and wiping the blood from her finger with a dishcloth. 

“Are you alright?” Jonah asked quickly. “You know I could do my own mending.” 

“Oh, stop,” she said dismissively. “It’s nothing more than a pinprick. I’ll be fine.” 

“Even still,” he said. “I feel bad having you do things like that for me.” 

“Why?” she asked. “You don’t have a wife to do it. Might as well be me.” 

“Because you’re my sister. It just doesn’t feel like your job,” he said. 

“That’s silly and you know it,” she reprimanded. “Sister is family, and families take care of each other. If we didn’t, then I wouldn’t be here.” 

“And where would you be?” he challenged. 

“How should I know?” she asked with a shrug. “Didn’t seem like Pike much cared where I went, so long as I got off the land.” 

“Pike’s a scoundrel and a monster,” Jonah muttered under his breath. 

Evelyn suspected her brother wanted to use much stronger language, but he was too much of a gentleman to swear in front of a woman, even if that woman was his sister. 

She returned to the rocking chair and resumed the mending. 

He’d always been that way. At thirty-two, he was four years her senior. Yet, he’d filled the shoes of a father figure for as long as she could remember. Their parents had been killed when Evelyn was fourteen, and if it hadn’t been for Jonah, she might well have ended up in an orphanage. 

“Pike’s a lot more than that,” she said, giving her brother a mischievous look that gave him permission to say what was really on his mind. He didn’t take the bait. 

“I still don’t know how he managed to stay out of prison after… what happened,” Jonah said. 

Evelyn’s smirk vanished. “We don’t need to talk about that.” 

“We have to talk about it sometime,” Jonah said. 

“What good will it do?” she asked, growing defensive. “Caleb’s gone, and talking about it won’t bring him back.” 

Tension hung in the air and neither sibling spoke. Evelyn returned to her rocking chair and picked up her brother’s shirt, angrily stitching the tear. 

“Because if Harlan Pike was willing to have your husband killed to get your ranch, who knows what else he’ll do,” Jonah remarked. “I’m afraid just going back to using Carter as your surname won’t be enough to keep you safe.” 

“Harlan Pike didn’t hate my husband,” Evelyn said. “He wanted the land. That doesn’t excuse what he did, but I don’t fear he’s going to come after me now.” 

Another silence ensued. Evelyn didn’t know what else to say. What she’d said was true. Harlan Pike had come to her ranch and insisted her husband sell. Of course, Caleb had refused. And why wouldn’t he? They’d worked hard for what they had, and neither had been keen on selling to some rich cattle baron simply because he wanted it. 

But Pike didn’t take no for an answer. It had been that way since he’d descended on the Red Rock Basin, and until someone stood up to him, more folks would wind up the same way her husband had. 

Dead in the ground. 

“You know why I bring this up,” Jonah prompted. 

Evelyn pursed her lips. He was right. She did. But she didn’t want to talk about it any more than she wanted to talk about what happened to Caleb. Jonah believed no good came of “sticking her head in the sand,” as he called it, but she didn’t believe any good came from reliving the worst day of her entire life. 

“What was his offer?” she asked. 

“A thousand,” he said. “For the ranch. For everything.” 

“Seems like a real low offer,” Evelyn remarked. “Considering how much of your life you have wrapped up in this place.” 

“How much we both do,” Jonah reminded her. “This is your home, too.” 

“For now,” she said almost defensively yet again. “I don’t plan to live with you forever.” 

“Even if you don’t,” he said. “You grew up here, same as me.” 

She couldn’t argue that sentiment. The ranch, now Jonah’s, once belonged to their parents. It had been her home right up to the day she’d married Caleb and moved onto his ranch with him. 

“Even still,” she said. “I need to find my own way in life.” 

“And you will, but there’s no harm in staying here.” 

“So long as we still have this place for our own,” Evelyn said. She looked away from her brother, fixing her gaze on the wall. She didn’t want him to see the tears forming. 

“What’s the matter?” Jonah asked, clearly hearing the pain in her tone. 

“Nothing.” 

“Don’t lie to me,” he said. “I’ve known you long enough to know when there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

“I’m worried,” she confessed. “I don’t want to lose—” 

Her voice caught in her throat, and she shook her head. She didn’t want to break down in tears in front of her brother, and she worried that if she kept talking, she would. 

“We’re not going to lose this place,” he finished for her. “I’m not scared of Pike, and I’m not going to let him run us off.” 

“That’s the problem,” she told him, her voice cracking with emotion. “It’s not the ranch I’m scared of losing. Well, it is, but more than that, I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you on top of losing Ma and Pa and… and Caleb.” 

The tears spilled down her cheeks, and she watched the realization spread across Jonah’s features. He rose from where he sat in the chair opposite hers and walked over, putting his hand over hers and lowering her sewing. 

“I’m not afraid of Pike,” he said again. “He talks a lot, but he has yet to do anything threatening to us here.” 

He clearly chose his words carefully. Pike had already killed her husband. He’d proven just how dangerous he could be. But Jonah also had a valid point. For some reason, Pike had yet to do anything directly to Jonah. It was almost as though he was hoping Jonah would take the offer rather than let this escalate to violence. 

“I suppose we’ll wait and see,” she said before pursing her lips once more. 

Jonah released her and took a step back. “It’s going to be alright.” 

“Where are you going?” she asked as he turned and headed for the door. 

“I need to check the perimeter,” he said. “I meant to this morning but got caught up repairing the corral. I’d like to get the perimeter fence checked before another sandstorm comes through and we lose cattle.” 

“They’ll only get lost if the fence is down,” Evelyn said, and Jonah pointed his hat at her before he put it on his head. 

“Exactly, and I’d like to make sure the fence isn’t down anywhere before it becomes a problem.” 

With that, he walked out the door. Evelyn sat right where she was in the rocking chair, thinking over what he’d said. Jonah, while sweet, had always been hotheaded. He didn’t think himself invincible, not exactly, but he did take far more risks than she was comfortable with. 

She sighed, finishing the mending and putting her things away. There were still two more shirts that needed her attention, but those were for a woman in town. Since Caleb’s death, Evelyn had taken on sewing projects to make a little money. 

Jonah didn’t ask her for anything. He’d welcomed her back on the ranch as soon as Pike had forced her off her own. But Evelyn didn’t need charity. She refused to stay anywhere for free, even if the place technically was her home. 

The house felt too quiet with her brother gone. She was unsettled after their conversation and didn’t feel they were any closer to a solution over Pike’s offer. It seemed Jonah was set on turning the man down, but Evelyn didn’t know if that was the right thing to do. 

As much as she hated the idea of losing another ranch to that man, she hated the idea of losing her brother even more. He was all she had left in the world. She needed him. 

She wandered back to the kitchen and looked out the window, her eyes sweeping the hot desert landscape. The chickens pecked about in the yard while Jersey, the brown dairy cow, stood balefully in the corral. The two horses stood in the opposite corner, attempting to make use of what little shade remained on that side of the barn. 

Evelyn pulled on her boots. With the heat of the day nearing its worst, it was time to put the animals back in the barn. Her brother’s ranch didn’t have as many trees as her own had had, and she felt bad leaving the poor animals standing without any relief. 

She opened the front door and was promptly greeted by a heatwave that blew her auburn hair away from her temples, much like when she opened the oven to pull out fresh bread. 

Put on your bonnet or you’ll freckle.

Her mother’s words came to mind. They always did when she left the house without her bonnet. But Evelyn didn’t care for bonnets. She preferred the wide-brimmed hat she’d stolen from her brother. 

And besides, she already had a smattering of freckles dotting her cheeks and nose. Once they were there, they were there for good. So it felt a little too late to worry about more. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she told the horses as she crossed the dusty yard and headed for the barn. She opened the stables first, then she grabbed a lead rope. She walked into the corral with a handful of oats. 

“Come on, Jersey. Oh, don’t be so stubborn!” 

She looped the rope through the cow’s halter, but the animal didn’t budge. Jersey planted all four hooves on the ground and stared at Evelyn with her large brown eyes. 

“Come on,” she said again, bracing herself against the cow. She was no match for the cow’s strength, but she could be persistent. She kept pulling, keeping the pressure steady as she offered the oats with the other hand. 

The horses came over, but Evelyn shooed them away. 

“I’ll come for you next,” she told them. “Move!” 

Neither horse was happy, but Evelyn ignored their snorts as they pranced around the other side of the corral. The heat seemed to make the air ripple, and dust hung heavily in the air. Though she’d only been outside for a few minutes, her dress already stuck to her back with sweat. 

Evelyn ignored it, finally succeeding in getting Jersey to move. 

“There you go,” she said as she patted the cow’s neck. The cow snorted in response, and Evelyn kept her moving. She didn’t want to lose any ground. 

She walked the animal right into the barn, pouring more oats in the bucket in her stall. She then grabbed more oats to take with her to fetch the horses. 

They were both young. Yearlings. Full of energy and spunk, but certainly bribable with the right treat. She didn’t even need the lead rope to get them out of the corral and into the barn, and she fed them more oats before closing them inside their respective stalls. 

“There,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. She took off her hat and dragged the back of her hand against her forehead, feeling her hair stick to her skin from the sweat. It was always hot in Red Rock Basin, but it felt like the past few days had been even warmer than usual. 

She thought of the pond that wasn’t far from the back of their property line. She and Jonah had gone there many times as children, and the thought of swimming there now sounded heavenly. She hadn’t gone swimming in years. 

Her mind was pulled back to the present when one of the chickens loudly protested something around the front of the house. She sighed. Coyotes were prevalent in the desert, and she didn’t want to lose another chicken to them. 

She hurried out of the barn, relieved to see that the cackling appeared to be the result of a fight over a grasshopper. But then she stopped. 

Jonah was riding back to the house, and he was moving quickly. Her heart skipped a beat as worry flooded her brain, but that feeling gave way to confusion and concern when she realized he had a man draped over the back of his horse. 

“What on earth?” she asked. 

“I found him near the old pond,” he told her. “The fence was broken, so I wanted to ride out and make sure none of the cattle escaped. I stopped at the pond to water Lucky and that’s when I saw him passed out next to a boulder.” 

“He’s hurt, bad hurt,” Evelyn gasped when she took a closer look at the man. “Look at that cut on his face!” 

“I don’t know what happened,” Jonah said. “But he’s still alive. For now. This gash on his shoulder says a bear attack, but I don’t know about that cut on his face.” 

“Either way, let’s get him inside,” she said as she struggled to put her hands under the man’s arms. 

“Easy there, let me help,” Jonah said as he hopped out of the saddle. “Come on.” 

He moved around the other side of the horse and grabbed the man’s legs. They flipped him over so his back was to the ground, and they carried him between them. He was in bad shape, but Evelyn couldn’t deny he was a handsome fellow. Muscular yet lean and with striking features. 

“Take him into the spare room,” Jonah grunted as they pushed through the front door. She couldn’t speak with the exertion, but she nodded, struggling to get the man into the spare room and onto the bed. 

“He looks like an outlaw,” she commented, taking in his black clothing and overall rough look. 

“That’s impossible to say,” her brother replied as he headed to the kitchen to get a bowl of warm water and a washcloth. “He could be a bounty hunter, or perhaps a marshal. Though I didn’t find any paperwork on him.” 

She took the bowl of water from her brother and gently dabbed at the blood on the side of the man’s face. As hard as he looked, there was something peaceful about him as he lay motionless on the bed. 

It was wrong to assume he was an outlaw, but she couldn’t ignore how weathered he looked. This was a man who spent a lot of time outdoors. And the clothing was right for someone who was on the right side of the law. He was dressed like Pike’s men. 

“Maybe so,” she said softly, still working gently at the wound. “Either way, let’s get him cleaned up. He can tell us who he is when he wakes up.” 

Her brother grunted his response, pulling off the man’s boots. Evelyn kept cleaning his wounds as her brother worked, but question after question flooded her mind. Yet, even with how much she wanted to know, one thought stood out from the rest. 

Who was this man?

Chapter Three

Darkness continued. Along with it came chills and dizziness, only broken by the sensation of a cool hand or washcloth being pressed against the man’s forehead. 

Voices swirled in the air. One was deeper, a man’s. The other was lighter, sweeter. He heard the feminine voice more often than the masculine, but he couldn’t make sense of either one. 

The man would try to turn his head away from the cool washcloth. Though it brought some relief, it also made the pain and discomfort more intense. It only remained cool for a short while, then he felt he was being suffocated by the heat. 

The man wondered if he was dying. Part of him hoped that he was. Yet the feminine voice remained persistent, coming to find him and pull him out of the darkness if only for a short time. 

Eventually, a new sound reached his ears. 

The man slowly blinked, forcing his eyes open for the first time in what felt like ages. At first, he couldn’t quite pinpoint what he was hearing. Then it dawned on him. 

Chickens were outside his open window, pecking and squabbling out in the yard. 

As he listened, he could identify more sounds drifting inside. A cow was mooing somewhere not too far off, and he heard a horse whinny. He thought he heard pigs as well, though that may have been his imagination. 

I’m on a farm. How did I get on a farm? Last I remember… 

His mind went blank. It seemed every time he tried specifically to remember something, only darkness greeted him. 

“Hello!” 

A woman’s voice cut into his thoughts, and the man froze. His entire body tensed and his heart raced, but he wasn’t sure why he had such a strong response. Then he remembered the train robbery. 

“Jonah! Come here! He’s awake!” 

The woman stepped forward, a bowl of water in her hand. She pulled out the washcloth and wrung out the extra water, then she pressed it gently to his forehead. He groaned and tried to turn his head, and the woman stopped. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “What hurts?” 

“Everything,” the man grumbled. 

“He’s awake?” The man who must be called Jonah appeared in the doorway. 

“Yes,” the woman said. She looked back at the man on the bed. “My name is Evelyn Carter, and this is my brother, Jonah Carter.” 

“Nice to meet you,” the man grumbled. 

They both stared at him as though they expected him to continue, but he just turned his head back toward the window. 

“What’s your name?” Evelyn prompted after a few minutes of silence. 

The man turned his face back toward her. He wished he had an answer, but her question only served as a greater reminder that he couldn’t remember anything. 

“I… I don’t know,” he said at last. 

“What happened to you?” Jonah asked. 

Before the man had the chance to answer, Evelyn spoke up. “My brother found you lying next to a pond just past the back of our property line. Our fence was broken, and he was checking for loose cattle when he saw you lying at the base of a boulder.” 

The man remembered how he’d run from the train wreck, and he nodded. 

“I was on a train heading for… I don’t know where,” he said. “It was robbed. When I woke, the engine was completely turned on its side, and so was the car I was in. I can’t remember anything before that.” 

Jonah nodded along with what the man was saying. 

“We heard about the train wreck,” he said. “The robbers put dynamite on the track and lit the fuse just as the train drew near. It blew the whole thing to smithereens.” 

The man’s eyes widened. He’d wondered how the men had managed to get the train on its side, and that made sense. 

“Did you see who did it?” Evelyn asked. “Apparently they have their suspicions but no solid leads.” 

“The men I saw all had their faces mostly covered,” the man said. “So no, I can’t say for sure who they were.” 

Jonah and Evelyn exchanged a look but said nothing. The man had questions, but it quickly became clear that the siblings did, too. 

“You can’t remember your name or anything?” Evelyn asked. “How is that possible?” 

“It can happen,” Jonah said, answering for the man. “If someone hits their head hard enough, they can get amnesia. You might not be old enough to remember, but that happened to our neighbor when we were children.” 

Evelyn shook her head, indicating she didn’t remember. The man said nothing. He didn’t much care why he couldn’t remember anything. It was the fact he couldn’t remember anything that was the problem. 

“How long have I been here?” he asked. “It feels like forever.” 

“Two days,” Evelyn told him cheerfully. “Two days ago was when my brother found you, and we put you in bed directly. You haven’t moved since.” 

The man grunted in response. Then he turned his attention from Evelyn to Jonah. 

“Thanks for bringing me in,” he said. “Don’t think I would have survived out there on my own.” 

“I should say not,” Jonah said. 

“You not only have that cut on the side of your face,” she said, “but it looks like you got cut up by a bear, too.” 

The man nodded as the images of that black bear came back to his mind. “I think I surprised it when I just showed up at the pond. Everything is such a blur from that day.” 

“At least it’s blurry and not forgotten entirely,” Evelyn said gently. 

“With time, your memories ought to return,” Jonah chimed in. “That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.” 

He didn’t elaborate on whether his neighbor was able to remember things eventually, and neither the man nor Evelyn asked. 

“I think the most important thing now is to figure out what’s next,” Evelyn said as she pulled the washcloth from the man’s forehead and dipped it back in the cool water. She once again squeezed out the excess before placing it back on his forehead. 

He wanted to ask her to stop, but seeing what a kind, gentle woman she was made him hesitate. She was beautiful, too. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a tight bun right at the nape of her neck. A smattering of dark freckles stood starkly out from her pale skin. 

Her eyes were such a brilliant green, they looked like the grass in the middle of spring. He’d guessed himself to be in his early thirties from looking at his reflection the day before, and she didn’t look much younger. 

He didn’t mind being cared for by such a pretty lady, even if he found her methods annoying.

Silence lingered, then he spoke. “Do you have any suggestions?” 

She smiled. “For now, I think it’s pretty clear that you ought to stay here until you’re able to be on your feet again.” 

“I’m sure I can walk just fine,” he grumbled. “I made it away from the train and to that pond.” 

“That’s not what I mean,” she said. “You have such a nasty bump on your head, and I want to make sure those scratches on your shoulder and the gash on the side of your face don’t get infected.” 

“Gashes would be more accurate for his shoulder,” Jonah said from where he remained in the doorway. 

“Either way,” Evelyn said, “my point stands. Your clothes were all ripped and dirty, so we took the liberty of discarding them.” 

The man then looked down. He realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt and wondered if he had anything on at all. 

“You’re about the same size as my late husband,” Evelyn said. “I’ve got a few of his things if you’d like.” 

“I’d be much obliged,” he said, looking up into her enchanting gaze. 

“I’ll be right back,” she told him. 

She headed for the door and Jonah moved out of the way, letting her pass. He didn’t stay, instead following his sister up the hall. The man stole a look under the sheets, seeing that he had been undressed down to his undershorts. 

His body was riddled with scrapes and cuts, but none were as bad as what had happened to his shoulder. He vaguely recalled seeing the gash on the side of his face in the reflection in the pond, but even that didn’t hurt nearly as bad as his shoulder. 

Every move he made caused it to burn. He gritted his teeth as he adjusted himself on the bed. 

“Here we are,” Evelyn said as she reappeared in the doorway. She held a small box in her arms and promptly dropped it on the floor with a thud. “Now, I’m sure you’ll still be in bed for another day or so, but once you do get up, these ought to suit you fine.” 

As she spoke, she held up a few shirts and two pairs of pants. They looked old and used, but they had plenty of wear left. 

“Much obliged,” he said. 

He didn’t know what else to say, now knowing that they’d come from her late husband. But it was a kindness that he needed, and he appreciated her generosity. 

“Are you hungry?” Jonah asked. “There’s stew.” 

“You really should eat something,” Evelyn chimed in before the man had the chance to answer. “It’s been two days since we brought you here, like we said. You haven’t eaten anything in that time.” 

“It was hard enough to get water into you,” Jonah informed him. “There wasn’t a chance you’d get anything else.” 

“Stew would be fine, thanks,” the man said. 

“Just a bit to start,” Evelyn called after her brother as he left the room. “We don’t want to put in too much too soon and make him sick.” 

Jonah’s voice came from the other room, but the man couldn’t make out what he’d said. He settled into the pillows, relaxing as best he could despite the pain still coursing through him. 

“Where are we?” he asked. 

New Mexico. 

The thought ran through his mind as soon as the question left his lips, but he ignored it. New Mexico Territory was massive. He could be just about anywhere. 

“Red Rock Basin,” Evelyn told him. “Not far from Texas. Maybe that’s where you’re from?” 

He started to shake his head, but then he shrugged. He couldn’t tell her whether that was where he was from. He couldn’t remember. 

“Maybe I was heading there,” he mused. 

“No.” She shook her head. “The train was coming from that direction, not going there.” 

“Fair enough,” he acknowledged. 

Jonah returned with the stew, and Evelyn sat on the edge of the bed. “Would you like help?” 

“I can manage,” he said as he took the steaming saucer from her brother. 

She nodded but seemed a bit disappointed, as though she’d wanted him to need her help. Perhaps she was the sort who enjoyed helping those around her. She had a gentleness about her, which made that feel likely. 

“You don’t remember anything at all?” Jonah prompted. “Not where you’re from? Your name? Someone who might be looking for you?” 

“I have a few fleeting memories of riding on a black horse, that’s it,” the man said. “I remembered being in New Mexico Territory, but again, that’s it. I can’t remember names of anything. Not my own, not where I’m from. Nothing.” 

“We ought to come up with a new name, then,” Evelyn said without hesitation. Both the man and Jonah looked at her like she’d grown a second head. 

“Just any name?” Jonah asked. 

“Well, no,” Evelyn replied. “Something that suits him.” 

“Don’t see why we need that,” the man grumbled. 

He picked at his stew. The food was delicious, but his stomach protested having anything solid after the few days of only water. Still, he considered some of the pain he felt was because he was so hungry, so he pushed himself to eat a few bites at a time. 

Evelyn watched him like a hawk. There was something tender about her that moved the man, and though he couldn’t remember a thing about his past, he felt he’d never been cared for the way she was taking care of him just then. 

“So we know what to call you,” Evelyn insisted. “Everyone deserves to be someone. Even if you can’t remember who you really are, you ought to have a name while we wait for you to remember.” 

Though the man didn’t much care what he was called in that moment, he nodded anyway. There was something about this woman that made him want to see her smile. He’d already deduced that she smiled often, but he wanted to be the reason for it. 

“Any suggestions?” Jonah asked. 

He looked from his sister to the man on the bed blankly, as though this entire idea was absurd. 

“I think he looks like an Ezekiel,” Evelyn said with a smile. “What do you think?”

The man wasn’t sure whether she was asking him or her brother, but Jonah only shrugged in response. 

“You’re the one who’s going by the name,” he said to the man. “It’s your decision.” 

“Fine by me,” the man said. 

“Ezekiel it is, then,” Evelyn said as she clasped her hands together. 

She rose from the bed, offering to take his now-empty saucer. He handed it to her, but she didn’t offer to bring more. 

“Good, you ate,” she said. “I think we’ll give you an hour or so to see if you’re able to get more inside you.” 

He nodded his agreement. 

“I’m going out to do the chores,” Jonah announced, turning and disappearing into the hall. 

“I best go help him,” Evelyn said. She smoothed down the front of her skirts, and her body language said she didn’t want to go. “Now you just stay put, Ezekiel. I’ll come check on you as soon as I get back inside.” 

“Much obliged,” Ezekiel said for what felt like the hundredth time. 

Evelyn flashed him one of her beautiful smiles before she walked to the doorway. She remained for a moment, looking like she wanted to say something else. But she only patted the doorframe as she seemingly dismissed the idea from her head and left, leaving the man alone with his thoughts. 

Ezekiel? I suppose that’s as good a name as any. I don’t know who I am—or who I was, rather. Might as well take the name and start anew. 

He looked out the window, watching as the siblings made their way to the barn. He didn’t know what to think. As he looked at his hands, he couldn’t deny they were weathered. He must spend a lot of time outdoors. 

An uneasy feeling welled up within him. Maybe it was good he couldn’t remember his past. He didn’t know why he felt that way, but he couldn’t ignore the gravity of the realization, either. 

Maybe starting over is a good idea. I don’t know what I’m starting over from, but then, maybe that’s a good thing, too.