The viaduct seemed too frail to carry the weight of the locomotive and several cars, and as the machine started its hurried crossing, Ned stared until it disappeared, its hum eventually replaced by the murmuring river.
The light turned a bright yellow by the time he found his way to the green banks and saw a pair of loons on the water. Less than five minutes later, he stumbled upon a nest and found two speckled eggs. He then filled a bottle with water from the river and made his way back to the camp where Cole was still asleep and up for a pleasant surprise that would warm his bones and stomach. Whether it changed his attitude to Ned into what it used to be before Ned’s foolish attack on Zeb remained to be seen.
He made tiny holes in both shells, then carved little dips in a flat piece of wood and placed the eggs in them, close enough to the fire to roast their contents. He always carried crackers in his saddlebags, but Ned was positive Cole had taken bread and coffee to sustain them until they could rejoin the gang after… whatever they were meant to do out in the wilderness. His gaze settled on the fancy saddle lying under Cole’s head. Cole had put the supply bags nearby for the comfort of sleep, and if Ned were quiet enough, he might just get what he needed and finish off their breakfast.
Heat bloomed in his cheeks as he watched Cole’s serene face, his heart skipping a beat when he realized that clues regarding their purpose might be in those saddlebags too. He sneaked up to the leather satchels at the pace of a fox approaching a bear and scooted by them. When he opened the larger one and unwrapped a package covered in brown canvas, he’d expected provisions not… several sticks of dynamite.
The click of a cocking pistol sent a shiver down his spine. He raised his hands before glancing over his shoulder at Cole’s single eye staring at him from above the saddle, and the steel barrel pointing at him from close to the ground.
“Mornin’…” Ned mumbled.
“You’ve got some nerve to mouse around in my things,” Cole said in a low whisper, rising on one elbow before rolling to his knees, revolver still trained on Ned with the unsettlingly steady hand.
Ned’s stomach twisted, but he forced his voice to remain firm. “Was looking for coffee. Look, I made us eggs.” He pointed to the fire with his chin, wary of making any sudden movements that could lead to him losing an ear. “Found something stronger instead…”
The groan leaving Cole’s throat told Ned he’d blundered yet again, but Cole put back his gun into the holster lying in his bedroll, and stretched his neck with a loud crack. “You know what killed the cat,” he said, cupping his face in both hands before dragging them up his scalp to push back the long hair.
“Eight lives left…” Ned dared to smile, even though it hurt his cheek. Still swollen, it reminded him of the blunder he’d have to make up for, and it had better happen sooner rather than later.
Cole rolled his eyes, which were still swollen from sleep, and draped the blanket across his shoulders, akin to a cloak, as he made his way to Ned’s side. “And there’s ten bullets in my revolvers. Don’t take any more chances,” he grumbled, but instead of pushing Ned away he scooted down on the other side of the saddlebags and opened a compartment, pulling out their small supply of food.
Ned ran his fingers through his hair, realizing he could use a cut in a week or two. “You wanna tell me what those blow-up sticks are for over coffee?” He sat down next to the fire and extended his hands toward the flames.
“No. You do the job I tell you to do, and that’s that,” Cole said, and took a seat all too far away from Ned. He roughly measured out the correct amount of coffee grinds to provide them both with the liquid energy they so very much needed.
Ned sighed to express his displeasure and looked to the orange ribbons of fire in front of them. “Why did you ask me to ride with you then? You’re still mad as a hornet.”
Cole’s gaze pierced him like two bullets. “Because Zeb doesn’t forget so fast. You’re the safest at my side, even though seeing your face makes me wanna punch it.”
Ned exhaled. He needed more than eggs to crack open Cole’s defences, but Cole had just admitted he still cared whether Ned lived or died, so that was something. Ned licked the corner of his lip, searching for something that could appease his friend’s anger, and his gaze stopped on the silver buttons. Cole put a lot of attention into his appearance, so maybe flattery could earn Ned a bit of kindness?