Chapter Six
Nathan woke with a start when he heard someone pounding on his door. He sat up and quickly pulled on his pants over his long underwear, and hurried to the door. When he opened it he could see that it was just starting to get light outside, but it was still too early for most folks to be up and about. "Mr. Bailey? Come in, I just need to grab a few things."
"Nadine started hurtin' in the middle of the night, but it was too dark to ride in for you then. Had to wait on the moon to come out." Harry Bailey shuffled from foot to foot and fiddled with the brim of his hat. "Good thing there wasn't any clouds tonight like there was the last couple of nights, or I would have had to wait until daylight."
"Were her pains gettin' very close together when ya left?" the healer asked as he tossed a few things in the bag he carried his supplies in, and pulled on the rest of his clothes.
"Depends on what you mean by close," Harry remarked.
"Think of something that'd take about the same amount of time as there was between the pains," Nathan suggested. When Harry just looked at him blankly, he tried another approach. "It takes about an hour to get here if yer hurryin'. How many pains do ya think she mighta had while ya rode in here?"
"I don't know. Maybe six or seven, but that's hard to say." Harry was getting even more agitated as he waited for Nathan to pull on his boots and coat.
"Will ya go over to the Clarion an' ask Mrs. Travis to keep a watch over Mr. Hurley while I'm gone? I'll get my horse an' meet ya in front of the livery." Jackson did not wait for a response; instead he hurried down the stairs and into the livery to saddle his horse.
Bailey ran to the Clarion and knocked solidly on the door. He paused and then pounded again and again. It seemed like an eternity before the door opened partially and Mary Travis peeked out. "Mrs. Travis, I'm sorry to wake ya, ma'am, but Nathan sent me to ask ya to watch over Mr. Hurley while he comes out to help Nadine."
"Of course I will," Mary answered quickly, suddenly very wide-awake. "Tell, Nathan that I'll go straight over as soon as I get dressed."
"Thank you, ma'am." Harry started to turn to go, but stopped when Mary spoke again.
"Give Nadine my best wishes, and tell her I'll ride out to see her soon." The pretty blonde liked Harry's young wife. This was going to be their first child and Mary new that Nadine was very nervous, and so, apparently, was Harry. "She'll be just fine, Harry. She's in good hands with Nathan." Mary reached out to touch his arm and was rewarded with a feeble attempt at a smile.
Bailey did not trust himself to say much else, but he acknowledged her with a nod, and then managed to promise to pass on Mary's message before he rushed toward the livery.
It did not take long for Mary to get dressed. She stopped by Billy's room before going back downstairs. "Billy," she said as she shook him gently. "Billy, wake up."
The boy groaned and forced open sleepy eyes. "Mama?"
"Are you awake enough to listen to me?" The newspaper woman knew her son all too well. If she did not make him talk to her a little so she could be sure he was hearing her, he would never remember that she had talked to him at all.
"Uh huh?" Billy yawned and batted his eyes in an attempt to keep them open. "Do I gotta get up now?"
"No, you don't have to get up, but I have to go over to Nathan's clinic to take care of Mr. Hurley. When you wake up, you come straight over there and I'll get us all some breakfast from Inez." She watched her son smile at the thought of one of Inez's breakfasts. He was a boy who loved to eat, and he liked Inez's cooking. "Did you hear me?"
"Uh huh." The boy stretched and yawned again.
"All right, you go back to sleep, and I'll see you for breakfast." Mary kissed him on the forehead and went downstairs. It took her a moment to get her coat and hat, and then she hurried out the door to go take care of Nathan's patient.
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Mary hugged her son and kissed him on the cheek. "Good morning, sleepyhead. Are you hungry?"
"Uh huh, I'm starvin'."
"You're always starving." She tousled the boy's hair and grinned at him affectionately. "Why don't you keep Mr. Hurley company while I go get all of us some breakfast?"
Mary left her son sitting and talking to the patient about his busted leg. It really was not all that late. She just liked teasing her son when she got the chance. The inside of the saloon was still fairly dark, but she knew Inez would be up and would have coffee and food started for the early risers.
"Good morning." Inez came out of the kitchen and greeted her customer.
"Good morning. Can I get breakfast for three, please?" Mary watched the young Mexican woman's brows raise in question. "For Billy and me, and I am taking care of Mr. Hurley while Nathan is out of town."
"Mrs. Bailey is having her baby then?"
"Yes. Poor Harry is a nervous wreck," Mary chuckled. "I don't blame him though. First babies always seem to take so long to get here, and he was out there all alone with her when the pains hit. It probably scared him half to death."
"I hope all goes well for them." Inez was genuinely happy for the young couple. "Would you like to come to the back with me while I get your breakfast?"
The two women talked while Inez cooked. Mary's stomach rumbled and her mouth watered but it was not in anticipation of food, at least not in a good way. She swallowed hard, only to have her mouth continue to water.
"Are you all right?" Inez asked for the second time.
Mary nodded and swallowed again. "Yes. I'm fine. There's just something about the smell of the bacon that isn't setting well with me this morning."
"I'm sure it is okay." The young Mexican woman picked up the slab of bacon she had been slicing and sniffed it cautiously, and then took a deeper breath. "It is fine. It isn't spoiled. Do you want to see for yourself?" She held out the meat offering to let Mary check the quality of it herself.
Mary grimaced and shook her head. "No. I'll take your word for it."
"You're sure? I can fix you something else if you want." Inez looked at her quizzically.
'No need for that. I love bacon with breakfast. I've just been kind of unsettled since Ezra left. They've only been gone a couple of days, but I can't seem to shake the feeling that something's wrong." Mary hugged her arms around herself and tried to suppress the light shiver that ran through her.
"They will all come home safe and sound. You'll see." Inez tried to reassure her.
"I know they will. It's silly of me to worry so much, but it seems like every time you turn around one of them is getting hurt." Mary sighed, and looked her friend straight in the eyes. "I don't know if I could handle losing someone else I love."
Inez laid down the fork she was using to turn the bacon, and turned her full attention to her visitor. "There will be none of that kind of talk," she chastised. "Ezra has been through some tough times, and he is still living. He isn't about to do something stupid to get himself killed when he has you and Billy to come home to." She hugged the pretty blonde and was relieved to feel some of the tension leave her.
"Thanks," Mary said with an embarrassed smile. "I needed to hear that."
"That's what friends are for, to talk some sense into you when you need it." Inez released her hold and smiled at Mary. "Now, let's get these plates filled before it isn't fit to eat."
Once the plates were ready and on a cloth-covered tray, Mary thanked her and hurried back to the clinic in an effort to keep the food from getting too cold on the way.
+ + + + + + +
"What in God's name was that?" Josiah rumbled when a loud crash came from outside.
"Don't know, but guess we should go find out." JD was already getting up from his chair.
The two men stepped out onto the boardwalk and surveyed the street in both directions. It was getting very near to full dark, but there was still a trace of light to see by. The man who lit the fires that would light the streets should have been out already, but no fires burned yet, allowing them the concealment the dark could give them. Both men nearly jumped out of their skins when the shot rang out and ended up crouching low to make themselves less visible in the shadows. They had seen the bright flash of the blasts and realized why it had sounded so much louder than usual.
A cowboy struggled to keep his nervous horse under control after the last volley from the twin double-barreled shotguns. He held one in each hand and squeezed off both barrels of both guns at the same time. The resulting sound left their ears ringing. The echo of the shots still rolled through the town as the man let out a wild whoop. "Yeeha!" He wobbled slightly when the horse shifted under him. "Where's the whores? Got me a itch that needs scratchin'." He spun the horse around and peered into the shadows watching for any signs of life. "Come on out. I got good money t'pay." By now he had managed to reload the guns and raised them to shoot again. "Wouldn't want none of ya perty little honeys gettin' yerselves hurt now." He blasted all four barrels again and his horse reared its front legs a couple feet off the ground before easing back to fidget in place as the rider roughly jerked on the reins. The sharp bit was yanked savagely into the horse's tender mouth.
"How do you reckon we should go about gettin' those guns away from him?" JD asked.
"Next time he stops to reload, we can approach him then," Josiah suggested. "In the state he's in, he'd probably shoot us otherwise."
"Yea, I was thinkin' he's drunk too," JD agreed, but then moaned when he saw three other riders heading toward the man on the horse, all equally as drunk and equally as loud and obnoxious.
"Looks like the odds just changed, son." Josiah strained to see in the rapidly fading light, but he still could not be sure that these four were all, or if more would step out of hiding if JD and he broke cover.
"You think you can slip down the street and come at them from the other side?" Josiah asked, his tone barely audible to the younger man even though they stood shoulder to shoulder. "You're smaller and quicker on your feet than I am; you'd stand less chance of being seen."
"Yeah, it'll take me a few minutes to get over there," the young sheriff whispered back. "Where'll you be?"
"I'm gonna create a diversion," the older man explained. "You slip on over away from the saloon, and when I get their attention, you make your move to the other side."
JD nodded in response, not thinking about the fact that Josiah might not be able to see the gesture in the dark. Silently he inched his way down the boardwalk, staying close to the wall in the darkest part of the shadows. When he got to the end of the walk he watched the four men in the street and when he saw all four men looking away at the same instant, he slipped around the corner and into the space between the buildings. Once out of sight, he hurried to the back of the buildings and ran the length of several shops before moving back toward the street. When he reached it, he looked back up the street toward the milling riders, watching for Josiah's diversion.
Josiah had not wasted the time he had to wait for JD to get in place. The big man moved in the opposite direction down the boardwalk and slipped quietly into the narrow passage on the opposite side of the saloon. It took him only a couple minutes to make it around to the back and into the saloon through the back door. He strode purposefully through the large room, snatching a half empty bottle from one of the tables, and stopped just inside the doors. The full doors were closed this time of year to ward off the cold outside. The batwing doors had been latched open and now laid flat against the wall an either side. When Josiah thought enough time had passed, he took a deep breath and let his posture slump as he lurched through the door and onto the boardwalk.
The saloon door flew open and crashed against the outside wall, when the big man staggered outside. The four men in the street were suddenly silent and whirled their horses around facing Josiah.
The ex-priest stumbled a few steps and then sagged against one of the posts supporting the roof. When he tipped back the bottle to take a drink, he heard the men begin to laugh and could not help a little smile to himself.
"Hey, old man. How's about sharin' some of that?" one of the newer arrivals called out to him.
"Ain't 'nough t'share," Josiah slurred his words and took another drink, making it look like he had taken a large gulp instead of a tiny sip.
"That ain't very neighborly," another called out. "Maybe we should jist take it."
Josiah acted like he was thinking about that last comment. "Nah..ya can have it. Too drunk t' fight ya fer it." He had caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye, and took his cue to move. He stepped down onto the top step and staggered off balance. Finally, deciding that he could not maneuver the steps without falling flat on his face in the street, the big man plopped down on the step and scooted forward until his feet could touch the ground. His antics had the men laughing at him, so he exaggerated his movements even more. The whole process of trying to stand back up took a couple of minutes as he first tried to push himself straight up into a standing position. When that failed he tried several other approaches before finally twisting around to land beside the steps on his knees where he could reach the post he had been leaning on earlier, and he used that to pull himself up.
"Come on, old man. We ain't got all night. I got me some whorin' to do," the first rider taunted.
Josiah staggered out into the street until he stood facing the four men on horseback. "Don't reckon you fellas'd let me have just one more lil' drink?" he said as he held up the bottle for them to see.
"Don't reckon we will. Hand it over!" The man with the shotguns spurred his horse forward a couple of steps.
"If that's the way you want it," Josiah spoke up, surprisingly clear for someone who had been slurring his words so badly a moment before.
"Drop the guns, and put your hands up," JD called from the shadows behind them.
In that moment of indecision when the four riders tried to figure out who was back there and if the threat was real, Josiah pulled his gun and had it trained on the men. "I'd do as the sheriff says. He doesn't take kindly to cowpokes coming in here and shooting up his town."
The men looked nervously from one to another, suddenly feeling much more sober than they had a few minutes before. Not sure of how many men had the drop on them, they let common sense rule them instead of the whiskey, and they dropped the guns.
"That was right smart of you boys," Josiah commented. "Now, down off the horses. I think you all need to sleep it off in the jail.”
JD stepped out of the shadows and urged the men forward toward the jail. Once inside, he locked the four men into two cells and tossed the keys on the desk.
"You ain't nothin' but a kid," one of the men jeered at him from behind the bars.
"Yeah? But I'm out here and you’re not," JD tossed back at them. "Can you keep an eye on them while I go gather up all those guns?" JD asked Josiah.
"Sure." The big man settled into the chair behind the desk.
"Thanks." The younger man went back out into the night and quickly gathered up all the discarded weapons. The horses still stood right where their riders had left them. It did not take long for him to dump the guns at the jail with Josiah and head back out to see to the horses. He gathered up all their reins and led them slowly toward the livery.
"Tiny!" JD called out when he did not see the blacksmith when he stepped inside the large building.
The big hulk of a man came out of his sleeping room, grumbling under his breath about people showing up at this time of the night. "JD," he said with a slight nod. "What do ya need?"
"Can you put these horses up for the night? I got their owners in jail and can't just let them wander around the streets of town," the young sheriff explained.
"Yup, I got room toward the back." He motioned toward four empty stalls near the back wall of the barn. "Need some help beddin' 'em down?"
"I sure could use an extra pair of hands," John Dunne accepted the offer. "Think you could take two and I do the same?"
It took some time, getting the animals fed and bedded down for the night.
"Ain't got no use fer a man that would treat his horse like this." Tiny shook his head and tossed the offending piece of equipment over a peg on the wall of the stall. "Man that'd use a bit like that oughta have t' wear it hisself."
JD looked at it in disgust. "Any man worth a hilla beans around horses oughta know they'll respond better to gentleness than meanness." He patted the horse's neck and ran a hand over its shoulder. The large animal whickered softly and turned its head to look at the young man; to JD it seemed to be saying thank you. A little closer inspection of the horse's mouth showed that it had not suffered any permanent damage this time, but its mouth was bound to be sore.
"A man that'd mistreat his horse, would jist as likely mistreat his woman too." Tiny poured some feed out for the animal and stopped to rub its nose on his way out to go to the next stall. "Yer a good boy," he said to the horse when it nudged at his hand wanting more attention. "Ya don't deserve to belong to a bastard like that." He gave it one final rub and moved on to the next horse.
The two men took extra care with the four horses, and were both relieved to see that only the one had resorted to using a sharp bit and sharp spurs too. When they were all tended to, JD headed back to the jail. He walked slowly in the cold night air, hoping his anger would cool off before he got there. He'd worked in stables back east, and he had learned to despise any man who deliberately hurt a horse.
Josiah looked up when the young sheriff opened the door. "Everything all right?" he asked, when the look on JD's face said very clearly that all was not well.
"Yeah." JD's voice lacked conviction when he spoke. He heaved a heavy sigh and looked the preacher in the eyes. "One of 'em was using a sharp bit and spurs."
"Let me guess, the whoremonger?" Josiah had taken an instant disliking to the man. He thought tomorrow morning might be a good time to give him a sermon that he would not soon forget.
"Yeah, that's the one." JD confirmed the older man's suspicions. "Why don't you go on back to the saloon. I'll keep an eye on things here."
"Sounds good to me. You know where to find me if you need me." Josiah left with his mind already working up just the right sermon, with just the right amount of hellfire and brimstone to scare the beejeezus out of any sane man.
Chapter Seven
Ezra pulled the oilcloth slicker tighter around his neck to keep the icy rain from slipping down under his collar. They had managed to avoid the rain for the first four days, despite the heavy cloud cover. However, it seemed like some higher power was determined to make up for lost chances by hitting them with a deluge today. It hit when they were about three hours out of the last town, so there was no turning back. The plan had been to go on through to the second town before stopping for the night, but that plan was quickly revised. A couple more hours would get them to Cactus Flats and shelter. They would continue on in the morning. The gambler moaned at the thought of two more hours. He felt certain that they would all be soaked to the bone by the time they reached town.
"Whoa! Whoa there!" Chris called out to the team of horses when one of the pair shied sideways, forcing the other to follow suit. The team pranced in place for a few moments and then finally settled down, but the nervous twitch of their ears and wide eyes said they were anything but calm. "Buck! Can you check…"
"Already on it," the ladies' man called back to him before he could finish the question. He urged his horse around the wagon and scanned the area trying to see what could have spooked the horses. "Damned if I can see anything wrong," he called back. "Vin, you see anything?"
"No, but somethin's not right. They've not been skittish this whole time, so somethin's made 'em antsy." The tracker slid off of his horse and bent low to check for any signs that might not have been washed away by the rain yet. He had almost given up when he noticed something under some sagebrush just off the track of the road.
"Think I found somethin'," Tanner called to the others. He moved slowly toward the brush and what was looking suspiciously like fur underneath it. When he leaned down to lift some of the branches out of the way a low growl caught his ear, but nothing moved that he could see. Mustering up his resolve, he carefully lifted the concealing foliage out of the way and found himself looking straight into the eyes of a large wolf. Again the growl rumbled forth, but the animal made no attempt to lunge for him. It continued to lie there panting heavily. Finally, Vin could see why. It had been shot, shot to wound not to kill. When it had become too weak to fight, someone had drug it here. He could barely make out some deep, water filled heel marks near the bush where they had been partially sheltered from the rain.
"What is it?" Chris said from just behind the tracker.
"Wolf," Vin answered and glanced back at Larabee, sending a silent signal to his friend.
"A trap."
"Yup, and we fell right into it," Vin spoke softly and nodded his agreement with Chris’ take on the situation.
"Gentlemen, are we to stand here all day, getting wetter and wetter, while you look at a dead animal?" Ezra grumbled, but stopped short when he saw the wolf was still breathing. "Good Lord." He noticed the heel marks just as a shot rang out from behind a rock outcropping about twenty yards off the road. All four men froze for a moment while they tried to find where their attackers were hiding.
"Drop yer guns if'n ya want t' live," a gravelly voice spoke up, giving the peacekeepers a better idea of the location of their opponent.
"Can't do that," Chris called back. "We've got a job to do and don't intend to let you stop us."
"Mister, ya gotta be the dumbest son-of-a-bitch I ever seen," Grady Corby taunted. "We got ya dead t' rights, and ya ain't takin’ our kin t' no prison."
Vin and Chris exchanged glances, both aware that they did not stand much chance if they could not get the men out in the open. "He ain't the one in charge," Vin tossed back at them. "I can't say that I'm willin' to die to keep those two locked up."
"Tanner!" Larabee roared in anger. "You swore to bring these two in. I'll play hell lettin' you turn them loose."
"That old sheriff ain't payin' me enough to risk my neck," Vin shouted back, and chanced a quick glance out of the corner of his eye to where the Corbys hid behind a large rock formation. He turned to face that direction and shouted at the men. "He's got the keys."
"You sorry son-of-a-bitch!" Chris shot back at his friend, fixing him with a hard glare.
"None of ya move." The uncle of the two prisoners slowly edged out from behind his place of concealment, and stepped cautiously toward the four men. The younger man moved out behind him and walked toward them staying several paces behind his uncle.
"Tanner, you're gonna pay for this!" Larabee fumed.
"Maybe, but I'll be alive." Vin sneered back at him.
"Give me the keys." Grady held out a hand to Chris. "Come on, give 'em to me!"
The gunman in him took control, and he started to reach slowly into his pocket. When Chris saw that both men were concentrating on watching him reach for the keys, he changed his course of action. The gun cleared leather in one smooth motion. When the sound of gunfire faded, two men lay wounded and bleeding.
Chris took a deep breath and let it out, relieved that it had been fairly simple to stop these two. "Vin, get their guns." He allowed himself a quick glance toward the tracker. His momentary lapse in vigilance would prove to be a big mistake.
Vern Corby took the chance to grab for his gun, aiming at the man closest to him. He might not be able to get them all, but he'd sure as hell take one of them with him when he died.
The sudden movement pulled Larabee's attention back in time to see the gun pointed squarely at Ezra's chest. "Ezra!" Chris threw himself at the gambler just as the shot rang out, followed immediately by three or four more.
+ + + + + + +
Mary woke and frowned at the slightly queasy feeling she had. For the last couple of days the smell of food had turned her stomach, and she had thought that she must be coming down with something. Now, she had a pretty good idea what that something really was. She thought back to the morning a few days ago when she had dumped the tea out the back door and knew instantly that it could not have been then. Nathan had shown her what to use to make the tea after Vin taught him what he had learned from the old Indian woman. The same tea that saved her life when she lost the first baby, could keep her from getting pregnant again if it was made much stronger, and if she drank it regularly. But, could it hurt her or the baby if she drank it while pregnant? Her eyes grew round with alarm at the thought.
"Oh, no. This can't be happening again. I drank the tea. I can't be pregnant," she said to herself as she tried to convince herself that she must be overreacting and that nothing was wrong at all. Her head spun for a few moments when she first sat up on the edge of the bed, and her stomach threatened to rebel. For now, she was saved the indignity of ending up on her knees retching into the chamber pot.
When she felt it was safe to get up and move around she started pacing around the room, unable to sit still and think. "I drank the tea," she repeated to herself. Mary wracked her brain trying to think of when this could have happened. "Christmas was too soon," she muttered to herself. "Thanksgiving. It had to have been around Thanksgiving."
She had not noticed that her monthly had not come when it should have. She had been a little irregular since losing the first baby. Nathan tried to reassure her that her body would get back to normal in time, but while it recovered she should not get pregnant again.
"Well, it looks like we might be having a wedding sooner than we planned." She sighed heavily and sat back on the bed. Her mind was in turmoil; a jumble of thoughts all vied for a place in her conscious. 'How was Ezra going to react?' 'What would he say?' 'Was the baby all right?'
She needed to talk to Nathan, but he was still out at the Baileys’. It would have been tough, but she could have swallowed her pride and even talked to Vin, since he was the one that taught Nathan about the tea. Maybe he would know if it might hurt anything if she had been drinking it while she was pregnant. But, he was gone with Ezra and the others. Her questions would have to wait.
Resigned to the fact that she could do nothing about any of this at this point, she set about starting her day. Billy would have to deal with oatmeal for breakfast today. Her stomach was cooperating at the moment, but the smell of grease could change all that in a heartbeat.
+ + + + + + +
Maude lay in her bed looking at the wall. She had been awake several times in the night and she was tired, but going back to sleep now was out of the question. Her stomach felt like it was tied in knots, and nothing relieved the pain enough for her to relax enough to go back to sleep. Nothing short of laudanum or a lot of alcohol.
The more she tried to relax, the more she hurt. She pulled her knees up farther and curled herself up into a tight ball. None of the usual things were helping any today. Finally, Maude gave up, and crawled from the bed long enough to retrieve a small bottle from her bag and take a sip of the opiate it contained. She fought the need to resort to taking the laudanum. The last thing she wanted was to add to her problems by becoming dependent on it.
One of her worst memories was seeing someone who had suddenly been deprived of the painkiller. By the second day he had gone almost mad from the sickness and pain of withdrawal. It had been even worse because that someone had been her only son. He had been shot just under his bottom rib by a jealous suitor back when he was first trying to win Julia's attention. Little did the man know that his act of jealousy would end up pushing the two of them closer together, and as soon as Ezra had recovered enough Julia and he had gotten married.
Ezra had come to depend on the drug, certain that he could not get by without it. Each time he tried to stop, the pain came back with a vengeance. It had taken Julia and her both to hold him down at times, when they finally forced him to give it up. Maude thought back to the dark-haired beauty that her son had married a few years before and regretted that she had not made more of an effort to accept her. It had been very difficult for Julia to ask Maude to help her get Ezra off the laudanum, but she would have done anything necessary, because she loved him with all her heart.
They waited until he was sleeping off the effects of the opiate and had Julia's father help them move him to another bedroom, one that they had thoroughly inspected, and they knew had no hidden bottles. The two women had locked themselves in the room with Ezra and waited. Food was carried up to them on trays, as was anything else they needed so they would not need to leave the room.
The first day was not too bad. The worst that they had to deal with was Ezra's anger, but by midday on day two things turned very ugly. When he was not physically fighting them in an attempt to escape the room, he was lying there curled up in pain, sweating, and shaking, until it seemed that he would rattle his own bones loose. It did not take long for the sickness to follow. There had been times that they both feared that he would strangle; the retching was so severe, and at times he would nearly pass out from not being able to breathe.
Those had been three of the worst days of her life, watching her son fight that battle. She would have thought that they would have been the worst days of Ezra's life too, but when it became his turn to watch Julia fight the pain of the tumor that grew deep inside her belly, it was clear that she had been wrong. Ezra stayed by his wife's side through all of the torment, and at the end Maude had watched the life drain out of her son's eyes as the life drained out of Julia's body.
Now, the con-woman was afraid, more afraid than she had ever been in her life. She had seen Julia's suffering, and had watched the toll it had taken on her son. The thought of Ezra having to go through that all again broke Maude's heart, and she did not intend to let that happen. She had no control over any future but her own, and she was determined that her baby boy would not have to watch her suffer as he had Julia.
Maude sighed as the drug took effect, and the pain began to ease. She had wanted to see her son, to let him know how much she loved him, and hopefully heal some past hurts. Her plan had been to visit for a couple of weeks and then leave. When she was gone, someone would find the letter in her bag that was addressed to Ezra along with the note asking that it be mailed to her son.
Now, with the news of her son's impending marriage, and his prolonged absence, her plans had changed. She would hold out until she felt that she could no longer hide her condition, and then she would leave. Maude prayed that she would be able to wait long enough to see Ezra married. The visit had started off rocky, when she was caught off-guard with the news of his relationship with Mary, but this time, she intended to embrace his choice of a wife and welcome her into the family with open arms.
Maude drifted back to sleep when the pain finally let go of her. She slept and dreamed of holding her first grandchild, one who had his father's green eyes and dimples. The dream seemed so real that she could almost feel the warm bundle in her arms, and hear the soft coos he made when Ezra bent over them to tickle his tiny toes. In her dreams Maude was truly happy, and in her sleep she smiled.
Chapter Eight
Buck stood frozen in place for a few seconds while his mind took in the scene around him. Grady Corby stared sightlessly at the gray sky above him, unblinking as the rain splattered on his flaccid features. A few yards away Vern moaned and stretched out a hand toward the pistol that had landed several feet out of reach when he fell.
Vin moved first and retrieved the gun from the ground and stuck it in his belt out of reach of the critically wounded man. Pain-glazed eyes, full of hate, followed his every move. The tracker bent over the younger of the two attackers and shook his head sadly. "Didn't have t' be like this." He watched as the fallen man's breathing grew rapid and shallow as he fought to hold onto the last thread of life.
Vern licked dry lips and tried to swallow without much success. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut as the temporary numbness eased and the first pain ripped through his gut. Dark blue eyes seemed to bore holes in the tracker when the dying man finally managed to open his eyes again. A violent shiver ran through him; suddenly he felt very cold. Summoning the last drop of energy left in him, Vern spat dryly at Vin, unable to muster up enough spit to drown a gnat.
"Go to h…" The last sound came out as a rush of air, expelled between a pair of cold lifeless lips.
Certain that the tracker was not in danger of attack, Buck tore his gaze away from him and turned to speak to Chris and Ezra. "Chris!" He hurried to the fallen men. His voice broke as the realization that something was seriously wrong hit him full force. "Ezra!" Heedless of the mud and pooling water, Buck knelt beside his two friends.
The gambler groaned and struggled to open his eyes. Each breath took considerable effort as he fought to pull air into his starved lungs. Awareness of his surroundings crept into his mind and body, and he realized that what he had first thought had to be a horse sitting on his chest, was actually Chris Larabee. Suddenly, Ezra was fully alert and staring at the man who lay sprawled over him. His green eyes were glued to the ribs of the man that had just knocked him out of the way of the gunman's bullet, willing them to expand as his lungs filled with air.
"Chris!" There was no reaction when Buck called out to him again and laid one large hand against the side of their leader's throat searching for any sign of a heartbeat.
Vin's ashen face suddenly appeared in front of Buck, blocking his view of his oldest friend. Tanner could see the fear in Ezra's eyes. "You all right, Ezra?" When he saw the gambler nod, he got hold of Chris’ shoulder to roll him over. "Chris…come on, pard."
Buck nodded and let out a sigh of relief. "He's alive." As Vin moved to unbutton Chris' shirt to expose the ugly holes in the pale flesh, Wilmington rested one hand on Larabee's forehead and gently used his thumb to pull up one eyelid. The eye reacted slightly to the light. "How bad is it?" he asked the tracker.
"Can't say fer sure yet. Looks like it went in here." Tanner indicated the hole just below his ribcage on his side. "And came out here." The jagged exit wound was near where the side actually turned into the chest, low beneath the ribs.
"At least it isn't still inside." Buck looked at the oozing hole in dismay. "I'll see what I can find for a bandage."
"Allow me." Ezra spoke up and rolled to his knees in the mud before trying to stand up. Dizziness washed over him for a moment after having the wind knocked out of him when Chris landed on him. It took only a shrill whistle to bring Chaucer to him where he could dig into his saddlebags for something he could tear up for bandages. He considered each item as he searched for something suitable, but was not sure what would work the best.
"Sometime today, Ezra," Buck growled.
Ezra stopped searching and pulled out one of his clean white shirts and hurried back to where his companions waited. The sound of ripping fabric didn't even make him flinch like it usually would at the thought of one of his best shirts being destroyed. All he could do was stare as Vin and Buck worked on Chris' wound.
"What's goin' on out there?" Carl shouted from the confines of the enclosed prison wagon. "Grady? Vern, get us outta here."
Buck lunged to his feet and stormed around to the back of the wagon. "They can't help you!" he bellowed at the man straining to see out of the one tiny window in the door. "They're dead." A look of pure malice transformed his usually pleasant features, and his voice took on a threatening quality that caused Carl to recoil in fear. "You sorry sack of horse shit! You better start prayin' that Chris don't die or you'll never make it to Yuma alive."
All the color drained from the face in the window. "Ya can't do that. Yer a lawman."
"You ever seen any star pinned to my shirt?" Buck's eyes turned almost black with rage. "You got killed tryin' to escape. We didn't have any choice." He drew back and punched at Carl's face, but missed when the man jerked back from the window.
"Yer plum loco." Joe's voice echoed from the depths of the wagon.
"And don't you forget it," Buck warned. "'Cause 'til we turn you over to the warden, yer life is mine."
A few long strides brought him back to kneel beside his friend. "Chris, come on, buddy. You gotta open yer eyes." He patted Chris' cheek in an attempt to rouse him.
"Probly best that he don't wake up 'til we get him moved," Vin pointed out.
"Yer probably right about that. You ready?"
"Yeah, I've done all I can," the tracker got to his feet and finally looked at the gambler. "You all right, Ezra?"
Standish nodded but remained silent. The cold rain splattered on his face and plastered his hair to his scalp, before running down under his collar to soak his shirt, but he did not notice the cold.
"Then help us get Chris in the wagon."
Ezra's steps faltered slightly when he bent to help Vin lift Chris. The two of them managed to hand the wounded man up to Buck, who had climbed to the seat of the wagon. The gambler shook his head to clear the last bit of wooziness from being winded when the sudden weight of the unconscious gunman landed on his chest
"Ya all right, Ezra?" The tracker had noticed the slight stumble.
"I assure you, I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me is all." Ezra stood and watched as Buck worked to settle Chris on the seat of the wagon. "How bad is it, really?" He nodded toward the unmoving form of their leader. His mind reeled with the realization that this man had put his life on the line for him.
"Can't really say. Nathan might could tell, but least ways it went clear through. He needs a doctor in a bad way." Vin watched as Buck arranged Chris' oilcloth slicker to keep as much rain off the wounded man as possible. The extended roof that covered the seat would help considerably, but it would not keep all the rain off.
"Vin, would you tie my horse to the back? I'll drive the wagon." Buck turned to settle down where he could pull Chris' legs across his lap.
"Mr. Wilmington, may I ask if you would allow me to drive the wagon?" Pleading green eyes caught and held the ladies' man's dark gaze.
"Ezra, I don't know if that'd be…" His voice trailed off when he saw the look on the younger man's face. He had seen that look before, and here it was again. The gambler was blaming himself. "All right. I'll get your horse, if that devil on hooves will let me near him."
"Buck," Ezra stopped him by placing a hand on his arm. "Thank you."
"Ezra," Buck sighed and looked the smaller man straight in the eyes. "This wasn't your fault. He'd have done the same thing for any of us."
The gambler could not trust himself to speak at the moment and simply nodded. He felt the reassuring pat on the shoulder that Buck gave him before turning away to round up the horses. After clambering up onto the seat and shifting Chris' legs so they rested across his lap, he allowed himself a few moments to reflect on what had happened in the last half-hour. He was jerked out of his reverie by the sound of a gunshot and looked up to see Vin standing near the bush that had concealed the wounded wolf, pistol in hand.
"All right, let's move out," Buck called from the back of the wagon.
"You two go ahead and I'll catch up," Vin told them. "I need to check out the area and find their horses. We can use 'em to haul those two into town." The tracker pointed to the two bodies. He did not wait for an acknowledgement, but mounted his own horse and headed off in the direction he felt sure the two dead men had come from. If he were sure they were unsaddled and could get away on their own, he would not bother. They would be happy to be free, but in good conscience, he could not leave them to the mercy of wild animals and the elements, if they could not fend for themselves. So, he could take care of two things at once; check on the horses and scout the area for any other signs of trouble.
"Okay, Ezra. Let's get goin'." Buck knew that there was more behind Vin's motives for finding the horses than just to use them as pack animals. He understood Tanner's reluctance to leave the animals on their own out there, but he also hoped that they would not encounter any trouble before he caught back up to them.
"Giddup," the gambler called out as he flicked the reins. The wagon creaked into motion. They had been a good two hours from the next town when the ambush occurred, and that was moving at a quicker pace than they could keep now. At this pace, and with the road becoming more of a mire of mud with each passing minute, the trip would take twice that long, at least.
+ + + + + + +
Chris groaned as his body was rocked violently when the wagon wheel dropped into a hole that was hidden by water that covered a large patch of the road. The sudden movement sent pain lacing through his side and forced him out of the dark place he had been resting in.
"Mr. Larabee?"
Ezra's voice sounded strange; it sounded like it was miles away. Chris tried to will himself back into the darkness, the place where pain was not welcome.
"Chris?"
That got the gunman's attention. The gambler hardly ever used his first name. Another groan rose unbidden when he took a deeper breath to try to speak. He struggled to open his eyes but succeeded in opening them only a slit before they drooped shut again.
"Buck!" Ezra called out to the man who rode ahead of the wagon. When the ladies' man reined in and allowed the wagon to overtake him, Ezra waited until they were side by side to speak again. "I do believe he's trying to come around."
"Stop the wagon," Buck insisted, and rode around to the other side to check on his friend.
At first there did not seem to be any improvement, but he could tell that Chris' breathing had changed, and then came the sound of a soft moan. "Chris, come on, you old dog. It's time you woke up and quit shirking your duty."
"Buck…" Larabee's voice was not much above a whisper. "Eat shit."
Wilmington grinned from ear to ear and laughed. "Now is that any way to talk to your oldest friend? Hell, the only friend you got who'd stick around this long?"
"Yup. You’re just like a dog," Chris said through teeth clenched in pain. "Kick him and he still comes back for more."
"Yeah, I reckon I am at that." Buck winked at Ezra whose expression of relief mirrored his own. "How you holdin' up?"
"Been better." Chris licked dry lips and tried to swallow. "Thirsty."
Buck opened his canteen and lifted his friend's head enough to allow him a swallow to wet his mouth. "You just hang in there. We'll have you to town as quick as we can."
All the wounded gunman could manage was a slight nod before he drifted back into the darkness.
"I see you found them," Buck shouted at Vin when he saw him ride up leading the Corbys’ horses.
"Yeah. Good that I did, too. They were tied so tight they would have had a hard time gettin' free. No signs of anyone else out there that I could see. But with all this rain, I can't be sure." The tracker handed the reins of the dead men's horses to Buck to lead for a while and took time to grab a drink from his canteen. "He any better?" He indicated the prone form on the seat of the wagon.
"He came around for a few minutes, but then drifted off again." Buck looked sadly toward his wounded friend and sighed. "We need to get him to town fast, but we can't go any faster with the wagon. There's deep holes in places that we can't see for the water. Last thing we need is to break an axle."
"Ya think he can hold out long enough?"
"I think so," Buck replied, "but I don't know. Ezra says he seems to be breathin' better, not all shallow and gasping like it was to start with."
"That's usually a perty good sign." Vin took a moment to ride over closer to check on Chris before urging his horse ahead of the others. "I'll try t' check the road ahead of ya. Might not find all the holes but could find some of 'em for ya."
+ + + + + + +
Vin reined in at the side of the stream and studied its rolling water. There had never been a bridge there since the water was usually shallow enough to ford easily. He did not have any idea how much deeper than usual the water was, but it was obvious that it was moving a lot faster. "Wait here." He held up a hand to signal for the others to stop.
Cautiously he urged Peso into the swift water. The horse fidgeted, uneasy about moving into the fast current, but he did as his rider wanted him to. In the middle of the stream the water was halfway between the horse's knees and his belly and then it started to get shallower again as he moved out of the water on the other side.
"Ya can make it, but take it easy." The tracker waved the others forward.
"You are certain the wagon can get through?" Ezra called out.
"Nothin's certain, 'cept that ya won't get through if ya wait too much longer." Vin could see the hesitation in the gambler even from that distance, and he nudged his horse, urging him back into the muddy water. Once he was close enough he grabbed the bridle of the horse closest to him and tugged.
Ezra steeled himself for the crossing and said a quick prayer that the tracker was right. He flicked the reins. "Giddup!"
The wagon lurched forward and Vin pulled harder, urging the horses to move a little quicker. They were a little more than halfway through when the wagon suddenly rocked violently sideways, threatening to topple over in the roiling water. For long moments it stood precariously on two wheels before it finally settled back down flat. However, no amount of effort could get the wagon moving again.
Buck quickly tied off the horses he had been leading and rode back into the current to untie the two animals that had been tied to the back of the wagon. Once they were secure he joined Vin back in the stream, as he tried to figure out what was keeping the wagon from moving.
"Maybe it's in a hole," Buck offered.
"Don't think so." Vin nodded toward the wagon. "It's settin' too level. One corner'd be lower if it was in a hole. No, somethin's holdin' it." He handed Peso's reins to Buck and slipped off his back into the fast moving water. Clinging to the harnesses of the horses, he worked his way around to the upstream side of the wagon, where the water would press him into the wagon instead of sweeping him away. He felt around the front wheel, but it was clear. Cautiously he repeated this at the back wheel. Still nothing there. Whatever it was it was on the downstream side. Sighing heavily he worked his way around the back of the wagon.
"Git us outta here," Carl bellowed out of the small window in the door when he heard Tanner outside. "Ya can't leave us in here t' drown if this turns over." When he got no response to his plea he pressed his face into the tiny opening and yelled again. "Ya hear me? Ya can't leave us trapped in here."
"Mister, you'd better be mighty glad yer in there and not out here." Tanner glared at the man and continued to inch his way around the wagon. His footing was precarious on the slippery rocks and the press of the water against his legs threatened to sweep his feet out from under him. He was not too worried about the prospect of drowning, since it was not too deep yet, but he didn't relish the idea of an all over soaking in this cold weather. His legs were already going numb from the cold. The dampness from all the rain was chilling too much for his liking. "'Cause if ya were out here, then that'd mean I'd have to kill ya."
Carl paled and backed away from the window. "Yer just as loco as the other one."
"No, I'm not." Vin's expression was deadly serious. "I'm worse."
Finally, he managed to get around to the other side and started feeling around with his foot. It hit something hard and a little investigation told him it was piece of a tree limb. He kicked at it with his foot but he couldn't get enough leverage to knock it loose. There was no other recourse left to him. He reached down into the churning water to grab at the nub of a branch and jerked with all his strength. At first it didn't budge, but then came loose suddenly, sending Vin sprawling backward into the icy water.
"Vin!" Buck watched from the bank as the tracker was suddenly immersed in water. He leapt off his horse and was almost at the water's edge when Vin surfaced and struggled to his feet several yards downstream. The water level was slowly rising and the current threatened to take him down again, but he managed to inch his way out of the deeper water where he could get out on his own without the need for Buck taking a drenching too.
"Get the wagon out of there!" Tanner called when he had reached shallower water. "The water's comin' up.!"
Buck stopped in his tracks and reversed course to go help Ezra. He swung quickly into the saddle and kicked his horse, urging it back into the water where he could reach one of the team's harnesses. "Come on! Yah!” He pulled the frantic animal as the gambler slapped the reins against their backs and shouted.
"Giddup!" Ezra struggled to stay calm as the water rose steadily higher. A few more inches and it would be pressing against the side of the wagon and would undoubtedly end up pushing it over. "Giddup! Move!"
Finally their combined efforts paid off. The horses lunged forward, and the wagon jolted into motion. Once everyone was safely on the bank of the stream, they all took time to breathe.
"I must say that is an experience I hope to never have again," Ezra grumbled. He kept his hands against his legs to still their shaking and hide the tremors from the others. One of his biggest fears was drowning. That was something he had never told anyone, but after a childhood accident, fast moving water always scared him.
"Me either," Vin added through chattering teeth.
"Mr. Tanner, we must find a way to get you dry and warm." Ezra could see the blue tinge to the tracker's lips and see the shivers that shook his thin frame.
"Fat chance of that out here," Vin pointed out. "In case ya haven't notice, there's water every where. Let's get movin'. We should make it t' town in another hour or so."
Ezra opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut again when Buck shook his head no. "Let it go. He's right. There's no way to get dry out here. The best thing is to get to town as soon as we can, for him and for Chris."
Standish watched Buck ride slightly ahead and then snapped the reins urging the team into motion. The wagon jerked, causing its injured passenger to moan when the sudden movement sent more pain shooting through his side.
"Chris," the gambler said as he passed all the reins to his left hand so he could use the other hand to check on Larabee. "It shouldn't be much longer now. Vin says perhaps only an hour more to reach town."
Chris Larabee forced open heavy, gritty eyelids and blinked at the light. "Could use a drink."
"Give me a moment to secure the reins, and I'll get my canteen." Standish wrapped the reins around the brake handle of the moving wagon so he would not lose them while he tended to the wounded man. But, when he started to take the stopper out of the canteen he could see Chris shaking his head no.
"A drink," Larabee insisted.
"I see." The gambler understood what his passenger wanted and reached into his inside pocket for the silver flask he kept stashed there. "I believe I will be able to oblige." Cautiously, he stood and leaned over the stricken man. Ezra lifted Chris' head with one hand while he held the bottle to his lips with the other. At first he allowed only a small swallow until he could be sure Larabee would not choke on it, and then he allowed him a few larger gulps, knowing the alcohol would help dull the pain.
Chris laid his head back again, panting heavily from the exertion. When he caught his breath he reached out weakly and patted the hand Ezra still had resting on his shoulder. "Thanks."
"If you need more, you need only ask." The gambler gave the gunman's shoulder a gentle squeeze before maneuvering around to get back into his seat. It took a couple of minutes to get situated again, with Larabee's legs lying on his lap and the reins all back in hand.
There was so much going on in Ezra's mind that he was afraid to try to speak to Chris about any of it now. It just was not the time to get the wounded man all worked up, or to have him expend his meager energy talking to him. Standish decided talk could wait until their leader had received some medical care and had gotten some rest. But, as soon as the blond was stronger, there were questions that needed answers. Ezra hung his head, deep in thought, guilt eating away at him.
Chris watched from beneath lowered lids, and he could read the gambler's face like a book. The very fact that Ezra was letting this much emotion play on his features was an indication of just how deeply the gambler felt, and even wounded and weakened as he was, Larabee could tell it was guilt the younger man felt.
"Ezra." Chris' voice wasn't far above a whisper.
Standish jerked his head up, startled by hearing his name. He thought Chris had already drifted back to sleep. "Yes, Mr. Larabee?"
"I like Chris better." He sighed and mustered his energy. "You weren't to blame."
"That would be a matter of perspective wouldn't it? By my account you would not be lying there in such a condition if you had not been protecting me." Ezra swallowed hard and looked away from the penetrating green eyes.
"Not your fault…" Larabee's voice trailed off as he let the darkness reclaim him again.
+ + + + + + +
"You the sheriff?" Buck looked at the older man behind the desk, sizing him up.
"Yup, who wants to know?" Jake McCann looked up at the big man who stood towering over him.
"Buck Wilmington. We're transporting prisoners to Yuma for Judge Travis, and we need to lock 'em in your jail for a spell, while we tend to our injured. This town gotta doctor?" He glanced quickly around the small room, thinking if this was all there was to the jail, it could not be much of a town either.
"No doctor, but ya can use the cell. Closest doctor is over at Sandy Creek. That's 'bout a three hour ride on a good day." McCann hauled his ample body out of the chair and dug the key to the cell door out of the desk drawer. "How many ya haulin'?"
"Two." Buck gave the older man a moment to grab his coat and then followed him out the door.
"Sheriff says there isn't a doc in town. One of us will need to ride to Sandy Creek t' see if we can get the doctor there." Wilmington pulled his gun as they headed toward the back of the wagon. "Ezra, come help us get these two locked up then we can tend to Chris properly."
Standish eased himself out from under Chris’ legs and tied off the reins. He moved quickly to the back with his own gun drawn. Vin joined them with his scattergun.
"Must be some tough hombres." Jake looked curiously at the locked wagon door. "Who're the dead men?" He nodded to the bodies slung over the backs of two of the horses.
"Not tough enough, but not takin' any chances with them. Already had these two try to bust 'em out. They," he nodded to the bodies, "were some of their kin."
When he was sure everyone was in place, he stepped forward to unlock the door. "Come on outta there, real easy."
The two Corby brothers stepped out of the back of the wagon, their feet and hands in shackles. Almost immediately their eyes were drawn to the bodies and their eyes grew wide and enraged. "Ya bastards! Ya didn't have to kill 'em." Carl snarled and then spat at Buck.
"Corby, yer about two seconds from feelin' my fist in your face," Buck warned.
When Wilmington waved his gun at him, Carl decided it was not the best time to antagonize the man, and wisely shut his yap. He trudged sullenly into the small jail just ahead of his brother and flinched slightly when the door clanged shut and the key turned in the door.
"Vin, keep an eye on them while Ezra and I see to Chris." Buck turned to the sheriff next. "You have any extra blankets or can you get some?"
"Sure, but wouldn't ya rather take him over to one of the rooms at the saloon? It's a sight more comfortable than in here." McCann went to a storage chest and pulled out a couple blankets.
"Might be, but we bunk at the jail when we're hauling prisoners." Buck accepted the blankets and folded one double before laying it on the floor near the stove. He signaled to Ezra and the two went out after Chris.
"You take his legs," Wilmington instructed and got hold of Larabee's shoulders. As gently as possible, he pulled his old friend out of the wagon, pausing for Ezra to secure a hold on their leader's legs, and the two of them carried Chris to the blanket inside.
Larabee groaned when he was laid on the floor, but he did not awaken fully. Buck knelt and quickly checked Chris’ wounds and was glad to see that they had not started bleeding hard again. They oozed in a couple spots but so far the scabbing that had begun to form stayed intact.
Vin watched the proceedings with concern. "I'll head out for Sandy Creek." The thought of thee more hours shivering in wet clothes was not high on his list of things he wanted to do today, but Chris was too close of a friend for him to let his own discomfort matter.
"Like hell you will." Buck looked the tracker straight in the eye. "Yer frozen to the bone. I'll go. I just need five minutes to pull on some drier clothes since the rain has stopped, and to swallow some coffee."
Vin edged nearer and leaned in close to speak to Wilmington in low tones. "I'd really rather go. What if he recognizes me?"
"I'll see if I can get Ezra to keep the sheriff distracted, but you have to rest and warm up. We don't have time for you to go gettin' sick on top of Chris gettin' shot. Once he's settled, you and me will have to take the Corbys the rest of the way on our own." Buck paused a moment to take another swallow of the coffee Ezra had handed him.
"I caught just a portion of what you were saying," Standish offered. "I will do my utmost to make sure Mr. Tanner is not recognized while you procure the doctor, but might I ask what I will be doing while you two go to Yuma?"
"Someone's gotta tend t' Chris, and the logical one is you." Buck had to smile when Ezra's eyebrow climbed toward his hairline at hearing the ladies' man use a word like logical. "Vin and I are more accustomed to hard travel." He held up his hand to stop the gambler's protest. "I'm not saying you can't handle it. I'm sure you can. But you're just the best one for what needs to be done here."
Standish nodded and turned back to the stove to get himself a cup of coffee. It was not that he wanted the coffee so much, although it would help to warm him some, it was to keep them from seeing the disappointment on his face. He knew someone should stay with Chris, but he felt that the only reason he was the logical one to stay was so he would not be the cause of someone else getting hurt.
Now dry, and much warmer, wearing a borrowed coat and carrying a borrowed slicker, Buck Wilmington mounted his horse again. "You two keep a close watch on things until I get back. It will be full dark by the time I get there. I might not be able to convince the doc to come out until it gets daylight, but I sure aim to try."
"Don't worry. Everyone will still be here and breathin' when ya get back," Vin promised.
"Gonna hold you to that." Buck started to turn his horse toward the street, but paused and nodded to Ezra who had just walked up behind Tanner. "I'm countin' on you both." He turned the horse's head away from the hitching rail, nudged the large animal in the ribs, and headed out of town without looking back.