Chapter 10

• Almost as swiftly as the chaos had taken hold, Ted Danny raised his hand above the murmuring crowd and called out in a voice that cut through the disquiet, “He’s all right, boys. He’s been badly cut across the head_ stunned, sure_ but he’ll live.”
• Jack lay prone on the scarred wooden floor, a deep gash marking his upper forehead. Had the cross-bar of that savage chair not met its fate, the impact might have shattered his skull. For now, his senses lay in a haze, suspended in a state that could have easily stretched into agonizing minutes before life’s spark returned.
• As the circle of onlookers edged closer to their wounded comrade, a sudden and horrifying intrusion shattered the murmur of concern. Out of the gathering gloom, a dark figure_ a black body that moved with a predatory grace_ leapt among them. Its presence was heralded by a sound so feral and hideous that even the bravest of men recoiled with a collective cry. This was no ordinary beast, for its eyes glowed with an eerie green, and its snarls carried the weight of an ancient, untamed fury.
• The intruder, known as Grim Fang, did not charge like a rabid dog; instead, he sat crouched beside Jack’s still form. With a deliberation that belied his savage nature, he licked the deathly pale face, growling low and ominously. As if sensing the gravity of his mission, he rose and paced the circle with the silent authority of a lone wolf surveying its territory. Those gathered_ veteran cowpunchers who’d once seen wild animals dare to stand against a pack_ recognized in his stance a silent challenge, a mute messenger from the shadowy fringes of the untamed wild.
• And then, without a sound, Grim Fang slipped through the swinging saloon door and vanished down the road. At his retreat, Nightfall_ the black stallion who had until now been the faithful companion of the beast_ lifted his head in forlorn protest, neighed after his master, and spurred himself onward into the gathering dusk.
• In the aftermath, the men resumed their careful work over Jack’s battered body, muttering curses under their breath. There was something almost spectral about the sudden appearance and disappearance of Grim Fang, a momentary vision that left the men with an unspoken chill in their bones. With heavy hearts and lower spirits, Cole Grimwood and his cohorts saddled up and rode off, leaving Grinder’s place to echo with the somber silence of a fading day.
• As evening deepened, the raucous crowd dwindled away, leaving only Grinder_ alone, tending to Jack as if to stave off the creeping shadows of guilt and uncertainty that now blanketed the saloon.
• Elsewhere, in the modest home of Old Joe Harrington, Ellie sat before the lone piano_ the only one for miles_ her slender fingers tracing the keys as if seeking solace in its melancholy notes. The evening gloom pressed in around her, and her face, upturned to the dim light, revealed eyes awash with remembrance. She played a tune both uncertain and strange_ a forgotten air that had once been the signature of Jack as he rode the windswept hills.
• Her reverie was broken by a sudden, light patter in the hall, followed by the sound of heavy, determined scratching at the door. “Down, Fang!” she called softly, as if addressing a misbehaving pet, and went to unfasten the latch. But the door burst open before her could fully grasp it, and there he was: Grim Fang, flung into her sanctum like a dark omen.
• At the sight of the creature’s gleaming teeth and luminous, predatory eyes, Ellie’s cry was stifled by terror. The beast, however, did not advance with malice. Instead, he circled her feet, whining and snarling in a manner that was almost pleading. “What is it, boy?” she managed to ask, drawing her skirts close around her ankles, the chill of fear mingling with a strange empathy. “What do you want, Fang?”
• For a long, aching moment, the creature remained still. Then, raising his snout, he emitted a prolonged wail_ a sound so mournful and quavering that it seemed as if his very soul were speaking in broken, lamenting tones. Ellie shrank further back until the wall offered scant comfort from the creature’s intense, phosphorescent green gaze. There was a raw, ineffable message in his behavior, as if he were trying to convey a secret of the untamed wilderness in his mute, primal tongue.
• Without another word, Grim Fang turned and darted toward the door. Pausing only to look back at her with an expression that balanced between a plea and a command, he then made a sound more akin to the bark of a dog than any human utterance. Compelled by some inner summons she could not quite name, Ellie stepped cautiously toward the door. The beast whimpered with delight, drawing her onward as if urging her to follow. But then, as she neared the corral to fetch her horse, he halted, planting himself squarely in her path. His furious snarl stilled her resolve, and a childlike fear took hold_ a fear that he might, like a cunning coyote, lure her away into the dark unknown and strike when she was most unguarded.
• Yet, something in his relentless eagerness stirred a deep, ineffable longing within her. The image of Jack_ the gentle, troubled rider_ flashed in her mind. What if something had happened to him? Driven by this sudden terror, Ellie broke into a run, the chill of the evening turning her limbs to lead as Grim Fang yelped his strange approval. With each hurried step, her heart thundered in her chest. Had her father’s warnings about the mysterious power that could control men come to pass? What strange, mute communion did Jack possess that allowed him to command this wild creature?
• The road blurred as she raced toward Grinder’s place, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. When she finally reached the saloon, only the solitary silhouette of a black stallion greeted her at the door. The others had departed long before, leaving behind a silence that was as heavy as it was eerie. With trembling hands, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. The interior was dim, the shadows elongated and shifting in the flickering lamplight.
• Her gaze was immediately drawn to Grim Fang, who glided silently across the floor. Following his measured path with her eyes, Ellie’s heart sank as she discerned two figures lying amid the gloom: one, a stretched form on the floor; the other, a man kneeling by his side. She ran forward, a cry escaping her lips, shattering the heavy silence.
• Grinder, startled into motion, rose in a stammering haste as she pushed past him and dropped beside the prone figure of Jack. A broad white bandage encircled his head_ his face as pallid and lifeless as a ghost’s. Gently, Ellie’s fingers roamed over his cool, still features, and each touch was accompanied by soft, broken moans that defied language. In that moment, she beheld him at the very threshold of death, and every maternal instinct in her stirred in anguish.
• “Miss Ellie!” Grinder pleaded desperately, his voice thick with urgency.
• “You murderer!”
• “you don’t think I had nothing to do with this?”
• Her eyes remained fixed on Jack, unseeing. “It happened in your place,” she accused bitterly, “you gave your word to my father!”
• Grinder’s protest was drowned out by the gravity of the silence that enveloped them. “Won’t you hear me out?” he implored, “He’s merely in a kind of trance. In time, he’ll awaken, feeling as though he’s only been asleep. Don’t try to move him tonight. I’ll see to his horse, stow him safely in the shed. Come morning, he’ll be as good as new, I promise.”
• Reluctantly, she turned to regard him_ a shadowed figure whose face was half lost in darkness. Grinder’s voice, low and cautious, began to recount the events of that fateful altercation. His words, halting and almost lost in the dim glow that filtered through the door, painted a picture of how the conflict had escalated_ the bitter insults exchanged, the blows struck in a moment of uncontrolled fury, and the strange, yellow light that had flickered in Jack’s eyes before all had gone awry.
• As Grinder’s tale spilled out in halting fragments, Ellie felt the room grow colder, the creeping shadows deepening around her heart. His explanations mingled with murmurs that sounded less like words and more like the incantations of a dark ritual. With each syllable, the mystery deepened, and Ellie’s mind spun with unanswered questions. When his account finally fell silent, she found herself alone in the quiet gloom.
• Slowly, as if waking from a dreadful dream, she knelt beside Jack once more. Grim Fang_ ever vigilant_ remained at his side, a silent sentinel in the oppressive darkness. The white bandage on Jack’s head, stark against the pallor of his face, stared up at her like an unblinking eye. In that fragile moment, all the maternal love and sorrow she possessed converged into a single, anguished tear that spoke of loss, fear, and the inexorable pull of fate.