“Have you done that often, lad?” Mac asked.
“Not to myself,” the man said with a bit of a grin, but since his face was so bloody he looked more horrible than pleasant.
“So what happened?” Angus asked as he sat down across from the young man. “And who are you?”
“Matthew Aldredge.” He held out his hand to shake, but it was covered with blood. “Sorry. I’ll clean up when this is done.”
“I could—” Angus began.
“No!” Matthew said. “Really. I’d rather do it myself. Did you see the wagon?”
“Yes,” T.C. said. “And the dead bodies.”
“Poor men,” Matthew said. “They were killed right away.”
“Who did it?” Angus asked.
Matthew made a couple of stitches in his head, then put his hands down to rest them. The needle and thread dangled by his right eye, making him even more grotesque-looking. “I assume I was supposed to think they were Indians, but unless they’ve started speaking French, the men were in disguise. I take it the wagon I was on usually carries gold?”
“There wasn’t any on it?” Angus asked.
“None that the murderers could find,” Matthew said as he got up and went to the river. Bending, he washed his hands in the cool water. “They were angry and they killed all of us.”
At that, T.C. and Naps looked at him with wide eyes.
“You mean that they shot you in the head and thought you were dead,” Angus said.
“Yes. That’s it exactly. I don’t know how long I lay there with my head split open, but it was most of a day. The only thing I can think of to explain why I didn’t bleed to death is that my blood seems to coagulate rapidly.”
“They shot all three of you, then set the wagon on fire?” Mac asked.
“Actually, I was the one who set the wagon on fire. I figured a rescue party was looking for me so I thought I’d send out a signal.”
“You took a big chance,” Angus said.
Matthew sat down and again started sewing his head. “This is easier to do on a cow than on myself.”
The four men gave him a weak smile. He really was quite hideous-looking. How could anyone lose that much blood and still be alive?
“Are you a doctor?” Naps asked.
“No, just a farmer.”
“And you’re here to marry Betsy,” Naps said, anger in his voice.
“Actually, I came here to tell her that I won’t marry her. I thought that was a lot kinder than writing her a letter.”
“But she’s expecting to get married,” Naps said, sounding like he was ready to fight for Betsy’s honor.
“I know,” Matthew said. “It was the oddest thing. When I was with her, she was all I could think about, but after she left, I could barely remember her. We corresponded and... Well, when you read letters written by someone and when you’re not distracted by a pretty face, you see things that you didn’t see before.”
“Like that she’s as dumb as a fence post?” Mac said.
“Exactly!” Matthew answered.
“What did he say?” Naps whispered to T.C.
“That he’s not good enough for a girl like Betsy,” T.C. answered quickly.