Ned needed to drink more to have this conversation, even though he couldn’t offer Cole details. “He froze to death one bad winter,” he lied, pulling his knees up and facing the fire.
“And your mother? You already know mine’s no longer with us,” Cole said with a half-smile.
Ned stayed silent for a long time, and pulled a blanket over his shoulders to fight the chill of a winter from his memory, one worse than all others. He’d never talked about it, despite the truth being no secret at his uncle’s house. The sharp liquid pouring down his throat helped form the words. “Hung herself when I was still a boy. She went through some bad shit, I can’t blame her.”
“Don’t you find comfort in knowing it was her own decision?” Cole asked, shifting toward him again.
After the close encounter with Cole’s knife, and his lips, the quiet conversation felt as soothing as fresh bed linens. “Are you a religious man… Cole?”
Cole snorted and shook his head. “The only heaven or hell we can have is here, I reckon.”
Ned’s shoulders relaxed. He’d never heard anything like it from a person he actually wanted to talk to. “I lost my faith after her death. It all unraveled in my head after that, but yes, I do find comfort in knowing she’s at peace one way or another. She did all she could to protect me and made sure I was safe before taking her life.”
Cole leaned in and gave Ned’s shoulder a squeeze. “That’s the burden of being a mother. She always has to be strong for her children.” He exhaled and glanced at the flames. “Found mine cold in her bed one morning, with her eyes open and speckled red. She also did the best she could to take care of me and died trying.”
Ned passed him the flask that was emptying far too quickly. “How old were you?” he asked, vaguely remembering that when he’d spotted Cole’s eyes from the cupboard all those years ago, the other boy couldn’t have been older than him.
“Twelve. Some bastard choked her to death. I was lucky Tom took me in so soon after. I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” Cole said with a small smile, unaware of the spikes he was pushing into Ned’s heart. “He’s not an easy man to be around sometimes, but he took care of me when no one would, and taught me how to survive. You’ll respect him even if you don’t like him.”
Ned would not. He’d make it so Butcher Tom hanged one day. Cole would hate him for it, but the leader of the Gotham Boys was the kind of man who’d steal the coins from a dead man’s eyes. He couldn’t be allowed to live. It was both that simple, and that complicated.
“Like you said, always good to have someone look out for you. I… I’ve traveled on my own or with people several times, camped out in the wild, but always knew I was going back to the ranch. This—It’s all new to me. I’ll need a friend.” Ned nudged Cole with his elbow. “One friendly enough to suck venom out of my thigh.”
Cole’s next sip was longer, deeper than the ones before, and he must have emptied the flask. “Whenever you need venom sucked out of you, you know where to find me.”
Ned snorted, hardly remembering that he’d feigned the rattlesnake bite in a calculated ruse to bond Cole to him. “I’ll keep that in mind next time one’s after me.”
Cole’s chest expanded, and he slid into his bedroll next to Ned. “It’s getting late. We should have an early start if we want to reach the camp by nightfall.”
Ned lay down in the warmth by the fire, still amazed where the day had taken him. He’d woken up in his uncle’s barn, and now he worked for the Pinkertons, and was on his way to a new life filled with violence.
And yet he didn’t want to go back to the ranch. Nothing awaited him there, while Cole offered him sincere conversation and excitement, so he’d bask in Cole’s attention for as long as the other man cared to give it.
When the owl hooted again, Ned tried to repeat the sound in the same deep voice. They weren't all that far from his old home, and he was already encountering new birds.
Cole opened his eyes, staring at Ned from only a dozen inches away. “Was that you?”
Ned snorted. “Ah. Yes. Sorry. My father taught me to imitate the calls of some birds. I’ve been learning new ones since. Hey, you should try. Maybe you can’t whistle, but you could learn this?”
“Oh, what is she saying?” Cole asked.
“Probably telling other owls this is her territory. Stop right there, partners!”
Cole laughed and rolled to his side, placing his hat atop his cheek. “We shall see whether you can teach me new tricks.”