Two days later I was in my office workin' on the books when Anderson appeared in my doorway. "Got a minute?" he asked.
"For you? Sure. Come on in."
I had ledgers spread out everywhere, but Anderson had no interest in finding a chair. He closed the office door behind him and paced around for a minute before stopping right in front of my desk. "I'm bein' followed."
I didn't even question his statement, just asked him, "How many?"
"Two. I'm pretty sure they're McCook's men."
"Where'd you see 'em?"
"Just outside of town. I rode out to the Maverick house to ask Beau . . . if he'd heard from Charlie. McCook sent men out to my place about ten days ago and when they found it relatively deserted the search began. Couldn't have been too hard to find me; I never made any attempt to hide where I was goin' or what I was doing. I spotted them on the way back here."
"Did they do anything but follow you?"
"Nope, that's all they did. Beauregard wrote out a wire for Charlie before I left and I added to it. Sent it when I got into town. Your father gave him the go-ahead to 'take care of the bastard.' He didn't specify how."
"Look, Anderson, if Pappy says Charlie doesn't do things that way anymore, then he doesn't. Pappy wouldn't lie about somethin' like that. But we gotta get you outta the house now." I'd started closing the ledgers and stacking them on the corner of my desk. Anderson was walking straight for the door, and I got up and followed him. I stopped at the bar to tell Willie I'd be back in an hour and then headed for the batwing doors. Anderson had just opened them when I heard the shot ring out and watched my old friend plummet to the ground.
I glanced quickly at Willie, who was already on his way outside. "Doctor" he called out over his shoulder, and I knew he was going to Simon Petry's office. I waited for another shot, but none came. By the time I got to Anderson, he was bleeding heavily and mumbling something that took me a minute to understand.
"Why didn't . . . you marry . . . Rose?"
It was a reasonable question, but before I could answer it, Willie had returned with Simon in tow. Simon took a quick look at the wound before turning his attention to me. "Help me get him back to my office, would you, Bart? I need to take the bullet out, and I can't do it here."
"Sure, Simon. Come on, Anderson, let's get you up," I proposed as I got on Anderson's uninjured side and helped him to his feet. He draped his good arm over my shoulders, and we began the walk to Simon's office, four doors up the street. Into the exam room, which I'd seen too many times to count, and then out to the waiting room. I sat there for more than an hour before I got any word from Simon. Eventually he walked out of the back room, wiping the blood off his hands with a towel and looking beat to hell.
"Simon?"
He nodded and dropped into the chair next to me. "Got it. Little devil didn't want to cooperate, but I got it. He'll be fine, but it's gonna be a while before he can go anywhere with that shoulder. He's awake. Do you want to see him?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice at that exact moment. I followed Simon back to the exam room; it was startling to see Anderson lying on the exam table. Normally it was a Maverick occupying the space. "How you feelin'?"
He looked up at me, his mouth set in a grim line. "Stupid. I was stupid. I was . . . " and that's all I got out of him before he either passed out or went to sleep. Anderson's coat was hung across a chair, and I went through the pockets until I found the wire. 'Take care of the bastard. Let me know when he's in jail. We're even. Beauregard.'
That sure didn't tell me much. There was one thing for certain, though. Whichever of McCook's men had shot Anderson, he was here in Little Bend. Charlie Black wasn't gonna do anything about him – that left it up to me.
Simon came back into the exam room. He'd changed shirts and looked better than he had when I saw him before. "He didn't stay awake long, Simon."
"Nope, that laudanum gets them every time. He's got to stay here twenty-four hours before you can move him. That is what you wanted to know, isn't it?"
I nodded. "Yep. Then I have to find a place to take him that's safe."
"I thought he was staying with you and Doralice."
"He was, Simon, but he can't come back there. Maudie and Belle, remember?"
We were still standing there when Dave Parker opened the door. "Were you gonna come see me?"
"Eventually," I replied.
"You don't need me here. I've got other work to do." Simon reinforced his words by leaving the room.
Dave looked at me. "Tell me what happened." So I explained everything but the Charlie Black part of the story and when I was finished, the sheriff asked me, "Did you see anybody?"
"Nope," I answered truthfully. "But Anderson got a look at the two men that were followin' him. I suspect the shootin' was a warning, not an attempt to actually kill him."
"Sounds like it. Alright, I'll need to question him when he's awake. Come get me, would ya?"
"Sure, sheriff. Until then I'll just stand here and do nothing."
Dave didn't appreciate my humor today. "Don't give me a bad time, Bart. I can't look for somebody until I know who I'm lookin' for."
In just a minute I was standin' in the office by myself again. I went to find Simon, who was in the waiting room staring out the door. "Were they after him or you?"
"Not me this time. I have to do something. Can you stay with him until I get back?"
Simon nodded, and I took my leave. "Thanks, Simon."
I ran up the street until I reached our house, then went in and explained everything to Doralice. "Is Anderson gonna be alright?"
"Eventually, just not for a while. And he can't stay here any longer for obvious reasons – you and the girls. I gotta go talk to Pappy and see if I can take him out there until we find the shooter."
"All the way out to Beauregard's? Bring him back to the house, and I'll move the girls to Maude's. She won't be back in town for at least ten days. That's gotta be easier."
"You sure? I'm not worried about easier; you and the twins have to be safe."
"As long as we're not here, I can't see how we'd be in any danger. Then you know where Anderson is and what's going on. I'll have Maria Elena pack some clothes for the three of us, and we can leave. Will Simon let you bring Anderson back here?"
I shook my head. "Not for twenty-four hours." I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her close. "You really are somethin' special, blue-eyes. I don't know . . . " 'how I got along without you' is what I was gonna say, but her kiss stopped me mid-sentence. "I wish I could stay here with you . . . but I need to see Dave Parker, then go back to the saloon. And somebody is comin' in after five o'clock today to talk about the Floor Manager position."
"Who's with Anderson?"
"Simon, right now." I had to get back to Simon's office, too. I couldn't leave Anderson there by himself. And that's when Doralice made the suggestion.
"I'll have Maria Elena take the girls to Maude's, and I'll go sit with him for a while. That'll give you a break."
"Darlin', you don't know what a big help that'd be. As long as you keep the exam room door locked. Just for a couple hours, then you can join the girls at Maude's." I didn't want her to be by herself for too long; I'd worry the whole time.
"I can do that," my beautiful wife assured me. "Maria Elena," Doralice called out. "I've got a job for you." When she was ready I walked her down to Simon's office. I was probably being too protective; there was no reason for her to be at risk. But I wasn't gonna take any chances.
Just a few minutes later I was at the sheriff's. Dave had wired the marshal in Carson City and gotten two names from him – Lee Ellsworth and Sammy Travis, McCook's men that were suspiciously absent. We could put the names together with descriptions once Anderson was awake. I thanked Dave and headed back towards the saloon.
Willie had scrubbed Anderson's blood from the floor, but I could still see exactly where he fell after he was shot. Don't get me wrong . . . the stain was gone from the floorboards. But I knew where Anderson lay while he bled . . . and I couldn't help feeling guilty. If only we'd been able to think of something besides Charlie Black . . . Speaking of Willie, I heard him call me and I joined him at the bar. "You had an appointment at five o'clock, boss. He's early. Blondish fella, well-dressed, sittin' at the back table drinkin' coffee and waitin' for you. I told him you'd be along before five o'clock. Soft-spoken and polite, and he's tall. That's all I got, boss."
I made my way around the end of the bar and headed for the back of the saloon. Willie's description was accurate; my appointment was easy to spot. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't put my finger on just what it was. "I'm Bart Maverick. I understand you're here to see me." I extended my hand and he stood and grabbed it, and before he spoke a word I made the connection and knew who he was. Billy Sunday, a one-time resident of Silver Creek, Montana. Had my long silent 'sister' unknowingly sent me an early Christmas present?