Free The Devil's Paintbox by Victoria McKernan Page B

through—”
    “You don't know anything!” The cruel tone was back.
    “No.” Maddy stared at him hard. “I don't know war and men getting exploded and all. But I buried my mother and my father, two brothers, one sister and two little babies. I just spent the whole winter freezing and starving to death and thinking of ways to kill myself so my brother wouldn't have to do it, so don't you dare say what I know or don't about awful!”
    Carlos stared at her, then scrambled away and vomited again. Maddy heard the crunch of boots approaching and fell silent. Joby had returned. He saw Carlos kneeling off in the dirt and helped him back to the campfire.
    “You look much better, Doc,” he said unconvincingly. He handed Maddy the
Atlas of the World.
    “Thank you, Joby” Maddy took the book and roughly yanked it open. “We're going to read about Switzerland now.” Her eyes were full of tears. She brushed them away. “To ease your sickness.”
    She pulled the lantern closer and opened the book on her lap. “ ‘Switzerland abounds in mountains.’ “ She took a deep breath and steadied her voice. “ ‘By reason of which she has become known as the playground of the world. Her scenery— great glaciers and deep, wooded valleys, is unsurpassed by that of any similar area on the face of the globe. …’ “

iden walked a slow patrol around the sleeping camp and went back to Jackson's wagon. The Kansas boys were playing cards by the flickering light of a nail-punch lantern. Buck and the widower leaned against the wagon tailgate, smoking their pipes. Jackson was sound asleep, snoring like a buffalo. Aiden took his canteen off the hook and had a drink of water. He looked toward Doc Carlos's wagon in the distance, where the tiny campfire flickered. Buck followed his gaze.
    “So little sister's taken up with the Spanish doctor, eh?” he said.
    “He's sick. She's tending him.”
    “Tending him,” he snorted. “Oh, ain't that nice.” Buck winked at the other men. “You know, I believe I feel some fever coming on me!” He put his hand on his crotch. “Oh yeah—it's a fever! A bad one! I believe I need some tending!”
    Aiden didn't even think. He just reared back and punched William Buck in the face as hard as he could. Buck stumbled against the tailgate. For a long, slow second, he just stared in disbelief; then he hurled himself at Aiden with a roundhouse punch. Aiden threw up his arm to block the blow, but Buck had a good four inches and sixty pounds on him and knocked him to the ground. Aiden kicked hard at the man's legs. Buck fell. He let out a pained whoosh of breath, but he wasn'twinded for long. He threw himself on top of Aiden with an avalanche of blows.
    “I'll pound you,” Buck snarled. “Then I'll pound your damn sister!”
    Aiden slammed his fist into the man's cheek and felt the skin split beneath his knuckles. He saw the Kansas boys trying to pull Buck off him.
    “You're shit!” Buck spat at him.
    “Cut it the hell out!” Jefferson J. Jackson growled angrily. Aiden rolled over and felt blood pour out his nose. Jackson grabbed Aiden's shirt and hauled him to his feet. “I don't care what this was about!” He glowered at the both of them. “I told you my camp rules, and peacefulness was high up there, was it not?”
    “Yes, sir,” Aiden mumbled.
    “William Buck, you're a goddamn grown man.”
    “He hit me first!”
    “So what? If a kid half your size needs whupping—which I ain't saying he do, necessarily, at this particular nighttime moment, anyway, for God's sake—well, it generally don't take more'n a punch or two. We got a thousand more miles to go. Any more between the two of you and I swear I will leave you both behind and take my own satisfaction out of your sorry-ass hides before I do. Is that clear?”
    Buck and Aiden both nodded.
    “God damn! And I was dreaming something nice.” Jackson stomped back to his bedroll. “All musical and such!” he muttered.
    “Maybe y'all ought