Kid Cole sat on the corner of the bed in his new room fuming.
He knew the woman was going to sit in there with the wounded man at least until he came to and probably longer. She obviously had little experience with the darker side of life because in her mind, Kid was a notorious outlaw and yet she'd gone with him alone into his hotel room. That worried him because a naïve woman like that was going to find herself in more trouble than she could handle, and he had no idea who the man was that he'd shot, but he was clearly out to make a name for himself by being able to brag that he'd shot and killed Kid Cole in a draw, which didn't exactly recommend himself to being left alone with a pretty lady if he valued human life so little. Gun wound or no gun wound, the man could still be a danger and his conscience wouldn't allow him to ignore the situation as much as he wanted to. His mother had done her job too well in that department.
Reluctantly, he went back to the door of his old room and his fist lingered a few moments before it came down on the wooden door.
It didn't take her any time at all to answer it. Her eyes widened to see him standing there. "I thought you'd done washed your hands of the affair, Mr. Cole."
"I changed my mind," he said, coming into the room and shutting the door behind him, "and I don't think there's any reason to act like we're in some fancy parlor back east. I never was one for all those senseless rules of society. Just call me Kid."
That was one point on which she happened to agree with him though their reasoning may have been different. Family didn't stand on ceremony and to her way of thinking with the heavenly Father as maker of the human race there were no true strangers and no need for fancy titles. "And you can call me Ruth."
"So you do have a name then," he said with the barest hint of a smile.
"Never said I didn't," she said, taking a seat on the one chair the room afforded. She had evidently been reading before he came in as her Bible was open. She picked it up again and all but ignored his presence.
Sure she would say something if he disturbed the rest of her "patient" by taking a seat anywhere on the bed, he took a seat on the stone-cold floor.
He observed her closely. She held the book in her hands as if it were a delicate treasure, reading it intently. The passionate, hunger-filled look as she read made him want to ask her what passage she was reading. His mother had seen to it that their family had read the Bible together daily, but he hadn't gotten from it what Ruth was obviously getting from it. He shifted uncomfortably but not solely because of the floor: watching her lips move was making the room seem very warm. The thoughts and feelings he was having made him uneasy. He tried to chase the uneasiness away by striking up a conversation with her.
"You're not from Santa Fe." He looked over at her satchel. "And you're freshly arrived it looks like. You meeting up with some kinfolk here?"
She looked up at him suspiciously, and on second thought, he realized it did sound like he was fishing for information that a person up to no good would fish for.
"I'm well-taken care of if that's what you're driving at," she answered.
"Don't mean to pry. I was just asking if you got a place to stay. Not that I'm inviting you to stay with me," he added when he saw her jaw drop. "I was just going to say I know of a good boardinghouse."
Her face visibly relaxed. "Well, good. I was on my way to find one before your gunfight broke out. You seem to know your way around here; do you know where I can find me a wagon?"
He cocked his head "What do you want with a wagon?"
"I ain't staying in Santa Fe forever. I'm going to proclaim the Word of the Lord throughout the west. The Lord is coming and there ain't enough people out here that know it. There ain't enough doctors out here either. I want to show fellow believers that having faith in God to take care of their situation can bring the healing they need."
"Ah, so you're one of them fanatics trying to tell everybody you know when Jesus is coming back then."
"Of course not. No man know the hour, but even if He doesn't come in our lifetime, we ain't going to escape the world alive. We need to always be ready to meet our Savior like He was coming today because there's no guarantee of tomorrow."
Not wanting a theological debate, he changed the subject back to the more pressing issue in his mind. "So who's going to proclaim the Word of the Lord with you? You ain't going to go all over this land alone, are you?"
"If I'm in the Lord's will, He'll keep me safe," she said confidently.
"You're plum crazy. The west is crawling with unsavory characters because there's no strong law enforcement out here, not to mention there's Indians just looking to settle the score with the white man, and if the humans don't get you, the wild animals surely will. Do you even carry a gun?"
"I don't want to be put in the position of having to take someone's life. The only weapon I need is the Sword of the Spirit," she said, patting her Bible.
Before he could respond any further to her foolhardiness there was a moan from the bed. The man stirred and they both went over to his bedside. The man suddenly jerked straight up. "Where am I? What happened?"
"You got shot and you're in Mr. Cole's hotel room," Ruth answered him gently.
He seemed to be recalling the events leading up to his injury and then he looked at Kid Cole with a glare. "You trying to finish me off in private?"
"Naw, if I was going to finish you off, I'd want everybody to see it in broad daylight."
"Well, I'm getting out of here," he said, throwing back the covers and standing up though it was obvious his shoulder pained him. He picked up his gun belt that was laying on the small table.
"You ought not to be up for awhile," Ruth said, blocking his path. "You're going to pull your stitches loose."
"Get out of my way, lady, before I push you out of the way," the man snarled.
"This lady here saved your sorry hide," Kid said, grabbing a hold of the man's bloodied collar. "You might have bled to death without her and you ain't even going to thank her for it."
"Thanks," he grumbled in her direction. To Kid Cole, he said, "You ain't heard the last of this."
"I didn't think I had," he said, letting go of his shirt.
The door to the hotel room opened and slammed shut pretty hard for his injury.
"That poor soul," was all she said.
She said it with such sorrow and love that it completely astounded him and he looked at her with a look of frustration. "You been treating me like I'm some kind of villain and he gets to be a poor soul just because I'm faster?"
"Any soul is poor who's not rich in God."
"Spare your pity," he said, feeling disgruntled. "Follow me, and I'll show you the way to the boardinghouse."
She gathered up her satchel and he walked her out to the street and pointed in the direction of the boardinghouse. "Keep going straight and you'll see a church with 2 crosses sitting on the roof. It's on that side, 3rd house from the right. Nice lady by the name of Rosa runs it."
"It's right nice of you helping me out this way. Thank you and thanks for coming back."
She started to move in the direction he had pointed out, but he stopped her by saying, "I could've shot to kill you know." He had no idea why he felt the need to tell her that, but he did.
"I know, but it shouldn't have happened in the first place. If you ask me, men ain't got no business carrying guns. They treat them like toys."
"I suppose we ought to give them over to the womenfolk," he said, making no effort to mask his annoyance.
"Heavens, no. Might be even more dangerous. They're bound to want to shoot the menfolk and then where would the human race be?"
He was stunned until he realized by her grin that she was teasing. He smiled too and then watched her head down the road for a little while. He had to admit he was amused by her and even admired her though they rubbed each other the wrong way more often than not. She wasn't all starch and piety as he'd first assumed. There was a streak of humor in there, raw courage, and there was no denying she had a good heart to care so much for a total stranger and then to keep caring when that stranger had turned out to be totally lacking in respect or gratitude. She was the kind of woman a man could settle down with and the kind of woman he was looking to avoid at all costs. He turned around; glad they were heading in opposite directions.
