IN THE SHADOW OF DEATH
CHAPTER 12
For the next few days, Jess slept around the clock, waking only for brief periods of time. Slim or Daisy were always with him and took advantage of his short periods of consciousness to feed him what they could and get him to drink something. With his permission, they gave him regular doses of laudanum to dull his pain. By the end of the week, he was staying awake for longer stretches and could do without the pain killer during the day, taking cat naps when he needed them.
One evening after supper, Daisy and Mike were in the kitchen washing dishes. When Jess fell asleep after Slim fed him a little bit of chicken broth with some well-mashed dumplings in it, the rancher decided he could slip into the office for a minute to check on the mail that had come in on the last stage. On top of the small pile of bills and notices lay Gary Morgan's newspaper, the LARAMIE CHRONICLE. "GUNMEN STILL AT LARGE" was splashed across the front page. Beneath the headline, Morgan retold the violence at the Sherman Ranch in brutally descriptive words.
Slim couldn't read it. He didn't need or want to be reminded of that day. Impelled by an urgent need to make sure Jess was OK, he hurried back to the bedroom. When he got there, Jess seemed to be asleep. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned to go back to the office, but as he did he heard his partner call, "Slim? Is that you?" He walked back to the bed and sat down.
"I thought you were asleep," he said.
"I was 'til a minute ago."
"How're you feeling?"
"Like I could dig up trees," Jess said sarcastically, then caught his breath in pain. "The truth is," he said when he could speak again, "I feel like hell."
"Anything I can do?'
"It's better if I try to ignore it. Just prop me up on some pillows, will ya? There's something I want to ask you about."
"Let me take three guesses and the first two don't count," Slim said, using some sarcasm of his own and gently placing a few pillows behind his partner's back.
"Well, what else have I got to think about!" Jess complained, wanting to talk. "I'm stuck in this bed with nothing to do. And don't tell me to count sheep!"
"That's not a bad idea."
"Instead of givin' me useless advice, how about tellin' me more about those guys who dropped by to say hello the other day. And don't dodge it again! What did they look like?"
Slim sighed, resigned. His partner had asked him repeatedly about this. He was still convinced the men had come looking for him. "They didn't know you, Jess!" Slim said for the umpteenth time.
"How do you know? I got some dark spots you still might not know about. Maybe even I've forgotten 'em."
"I don't think so."
"Damn it - don't rule it out. What did they...look like?" Jess was gasping for breath, but he overrode the pain by concentrating on the conversation with Slim.
Slim studied him, considering how to respond. Jess was doing better. Maybe he could handle more information. It might even help him.
'I can tell you that..."
"Then why ain't you told me before now?" Jess grumbled from his pillows.
"...there are wanted posters out on them…." Slim plowed on.
"They're already known around here?" Jess interrupted again.
"I'll tell you if you simmer down! They weren't known around here before they shot you but since then they've made quite a name for themselves."
"That don't sound good."
"It isn't. The man they met here was named Alexander Owen. He'd escaped from Leavenworth three weeks before."
"Alexander Owen…." Jess looked thoughtful. "That name sounds familiar."
"You might have heard it somewhere. Gary Morgan got the full story on him and published it in the newspaper. He was serving a lifetime prison sentence for raiding some farms and killing some people - and for robbing a Union Pacific train in broad daylight."
"That'll set the law on your trail. But I don't know him. How about the other two? Why did you say they came here to the ranch?"
"The ranch - the Relay Station - is an easy landmark. At first, I thought they were waiting for you. I even said your name out loud before you got home to see if they reacted to it. They didn't know you, Jess. They like killing for the fun of it. From here they went to Pine City and threatened the gunsmith they got the Winchester from. Then they went to Deep River Trading Post and killed old Bud Franklin…"
"They killed Bud?" Jess' forehead crinkled. He knew Bud and liked him. "Why him?"
"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Jess. They kill because they like killing. And there's more…"
Slim told him about the trail of senseless violence the three men left in their wake. Hearing about the little girl getting hurt was the hardest part for Jess. His face tightened into the cold mask of the gunfighter. "Somebody's got to get those bastards," he said with deadly quietness.
"Mort and a posse are out there looking for them now, but they're hiding out in the mountains where a pack of bloodhounds couldn't track them. And the wanted posters haven't turned up anything yet."
"Can I see the posters?"
"If you feel up to it."
Jess nodded, his eyes closed. Slim went to his office where he kept the three sheets in a drawer in the desk. Coming back, he hesitated at the bedroom door with the papers hanging from his hand, wondering if this was the right thing to do. He heard Jess coughing, and when he stepped into the room, he saw him digging his right hand into his chest. With a few quick strides, he was at his partner's side.
"Everything OK?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Jess lied, trying not to let his pain show but his heavy breathing betrayed him. "Let me see." When he reached for them, his hand trembled from weakness but he studied the picture of Alexander Owen that was on top. "I know I've seen this guy before, but I don't know where." He squinted his eyes closed a bit, trying to see better. "You sure he hasn't ever been around here?"
"I don't think so. Gary said he was up in the Dakotas before he got caught. There was a wanted poster circulating around offering a reward after he robbed the Union Pacific."
"I remember seein' it now. He's got the kind of face you don't forget." He let the paper slide onto the bedcovers and held the second poster in his right hand so he could look at both drawings at the same time. His face darkened the way the sky does before a thunderstorm. "I've never seen either one of them," he said casually, but there was a dangerous undertone in his voice. "Which one shot me?"
"That one." He tapped Hal's picture. "You owe all this to him. And to me."
"That ain't so, Slim!" Jess frowned fiercely at him. "How come you said that? It ain't true!"
"I think it is. It'll haunt me for the rest of my life," Slim said, tightening his mouth.
"That's crazy talk!"
"If you were in my place you say the same thing." When Slim looked up and saw the strain on Jess' face, he realized he'd forgotten his patient. The posters triggered a lot of bad feelings for both of them. "I'm sorry, Jess," he said, running his fingers through his hair as if he were shaking off the bad thoughts. "Forget it."
"Sometimes I think that bullet did more damage to your brain than it did to my lungs!" There was a sharp edge to his voice, but he wanted to change the subject, too. Talking about it didn't make it better anyway. "That's a pretty big reward those posters are promisin'. Was that your idea?"
"No. People in town did that."
"How come?"
"Maybe they want those guys caught. And maybe they wanted to do something for you because they like you - or because they felt guilty."
"Guilty about what?"
"About how much you've done for them. The mayor said Laramie owes you a lot. He knows you've risked your life more than once for the town. Been wounded more than once, too."
"They shouldn't of done it on my account. Why didn't you stop 'em?"
"Why should I? The mayor got it right. The Overland Company kicked in some money, too. Kellington makes a habit of getting you to ride shotgun, whether he needs one or not. He knows you've more of a sense of responsibility for the stage than he does. You do the dirty work, and he gets the profit."
"A lot of the drivers are friends of mine. I don't like the idea of them gettin' hurt because Kellington's too stingy to pay for a regular guard."
"I know that, but you've done a lot for him. Anyway, it doesn't matter. That much reward money might light a fire under somebody to go after them. They're not going to be easy to bring down. They shoot first and don't care who they kill. They're either totally cold-blooded or crazy."
"Probably both. I'm glad they didn't think about killin' off witnesses when they were here." He stopped for a minute, chilled by the thought. His voice lowered. "I'm glad Mike was in school."
"Yeah," Slim said, looking down.
The rancher hadn't expected Jess to be paying that much attention to him or he might have been more cautious in his reply. Jess caught the evasiveness in his voice. He'd heard it more than once since he'd been wounded, and he already suspected more had gone on that day than Slim was telling him. Now he knew it for sure. Slim was trying to protect him from something, something really bad, something he was afraid would upset him too much.
"He was in school, right?' Jess asked his partner.
"Where else would he be?"
Fear hit Jess in the gut like a physical blow. "Was he at home?"
"Why would he be?"
"Maybe he was home because the teacher was sick - or somethin' like that." The knot in Jess' stomach tightened.
"You got no reason to think that."
Without warning, the knot uncoiled. Jess's hand shot out and grabbed Slim's arm. "He was here, wasn't he?" His fingers sank into the muscles near Slim's wrist. "You can't even look at me," he yelled. "Damn it! Tell me the truth!"
Then the pain from his wound hit him, rolling over his chest like a fireball. He dropped Slim's arm and dug his fist into his shoulder, clenching his teeth and groaning in agony. Slim jumped up to help him, but Jess either overrode the pain or was fueled by it. He snapped his head around to face Slim as furious as only Jess Harper could be, his dark brows drawn together, his eyes narrowed in fury and blazing with anger that struck Slim like a bullet. "Where was he?" Jess said, his voice hoarse with pain and rage.
"Ease off, Jess!" Slim demanded. "Nothing happened to him!"
"Where was he?" Jess repeated, calming down some like he usually did - eventually - when Slim got tough.
Slim took a deep breath. Jess was already so upset that telling him the truth could hardly make it worse.
"Alright, he wasn't at school. He was at home because there was a circus in town and Miss Finch called school off that day so the kids could go to it. He was upstairs when the gang broke in. But he wasn't hurt!"
Jess kept looking at Slim through eyes squeezed nearly shut, his face creased with pain. He had an idea of what Slim was about to tell him.
"He wasn't hurt, Jess," Slim said gently. "He was hiding behind the railings, and the men didn't see him - but he saw everything that happened."
Jess cut his head to the side. Hearing Slim say it out loud was almost too much for him to bear.
Slim put his hand on Jess' arm and held it there. "I didn't want to tell you. I was afraid of what it would do to you."
Jess took a shaky breath. He shot a lightning fast glance at Slim. "Couldn't you have stopped it?"
"No, but I should have. Just like I should've stopped them from shooting you."
"I didn't mean that, Slim! I ain't thinkin' straight!" Jess wiped his hand over his face and through his hair, then looked over at his partner, begging him to understand. "I don't blame you! If you'd tried somethin' it would've made things worse. They could've found Mike. Who knows what could've happened then?"
Slim frowned. "Nice try, Jess, but I got no excuse, and you know it."
Jess was really calming down now. He could see that Slim's broad shoulders were slumped beneath the burden of guilt he was carrying. That hurt Jess as much as everything else had. "Look, partner," he said, his voice low and quiet, filled with enough strength to get Slim's attention, "I don't want you to get yourself all caught up feeling guilty about somethin' that wasn't your fault. If you did, it would eventually wreck things between us. I don't want that to happen - and I don't think you do, either."
Slim scowled, looking down at the floor. It took him a minute to figure out what Jess had just said to him. Then he looked back up at his partner. Their eyes met and held. After a moment, a fragment of a smile flickered in Slim's face and Jess' face softened, too. A current of warmth passed between them. Without another word being said, they understood each other.
Feeling relieved, Jess took as deep a breath as he could and asked, "How's Mike now?"
"I think he's doing OK. Miss Finch is letting him stay at home for a while. He couldn't concentrate in school anyway. We're keeping him busy with chores and Daisy does some lessons with him when she has time." Slim was glad to be able to be more open with Jess about the boy, but he still chose his words carefully. "He cried a lot at first, but now that he knows you're better, he's better, too. When you're in good enough shape, we'll let him come in here to stay with you."
Jess stared down at his bandaged left arm, then he looked back at Slim with a new resolve in his eyes - but there was also an underlying sadness there, too. "I got to get well, Slim," he said. "No matter what it takes. Mike needs me. Do you think I can? What does Doc Higgins think?"
"It doesn't matter what I think or what Doc Higgins thinks. You're going to get well."
"You're dodging questions again. I need to know the truth. I got a right to it - and I need to know what to tell Mike. I don't want to make promises to him I can't keep."
Slim sucked his cheeks in and rubbed his mouth with his hand, trying to think of the right thing to say. "Jess, Dan doesn't know himself how you're going to be. You got bad internal injuries. You know that. It's a miracle you're still alive." When Jess kept looking at him, waiting for the real answer, Slim said abruptly, "Doc says you have a fifty-fifty chance of making it - but the first time he saw you, he said you didn't have any. Look, I think you're going to make it - you're a hell of a fighter, but if you're worried about Mike, maybe the best thing to do is... don't promise him anything."
Jess's nodded a little, but out of the blue, he started to cough, the kind of choking, gagging cough that would have suffocated him if Slim hadn't quickly lifted him up and held him upright until he expelled the bloody mucus that had accumulated in his lungs. Moaning and struggling for breath, Jess lay exhausted against his partner's chest.
Slim wiped him up with one of the towels from the bedside table. "OK, now?" he asked.
Jess dropped his hand away from his wounded shoulder. "I think so," he gasped.
Slim held him until his breathing eased, then laid him gently down on the pillows. He washed his face again and sat with him in silence, watching him. He knew Jess was very tired, but he could also tell his wounded partner had something on his mind. He'd closed his eyes and he was frowning, clearly thinking about something that bothered him more than physical pain.
Finally, Jess opened his eyes a little and turned to look at him. His face was grave. "Slim, I want to...see Mike." His voice was weak, but it had a determined undertone. "I...I got to talk to him."
"Now?"
"There might not be a later."
"You sure? You look pretty wrung out to me. Why don't you get some rest first?"
"Quit talkin' and get Mike in here," Jess said, frowning again.
Slim sighed. "I hope I don't regret this," he said as he got up.
"Get those posters out of here. I don't want him seein' them."
Slim picked up the scattered posters and looked down at Jess before he turned to leave. "I'll be around if you need me."
"Thanks, partner." Jess closed his eyes, gathering his strength. "Thanks."
Slim reluctantly left the room, not sure about letting Jess talk to Mike. He dropped the papers off in the office and went on to the kitchen. Daisy was finishing up the dishes. She'd sent Mike outside to chop some kindling for the next day. She smiled at Slim when he came in the room.
"Almost finished!" she said, brightly.
Slim hesitated for a moment, not sure how to tell her what Jess wanted. Then he just said it. "Jess wants to talk to Mike.
Daisy put her hand to her mouth. She understood at once what Slim was telling her. "Does he know?"
"I told him everything."
"Oh, Slim. How did he take it?"
"How do you think?" Slim snapped. Then he dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, Daisy. I don't mean to take things out on you."
"I understand." She put her hand on his arm. "Is he up to it?"
"He won't take no for an answer." Slim took a tired breath, his big chest rising and falling. "Maybe it'll do them both good."
Mike came noisily through the back door, a load of kindling in this arms. When he dropped it in the box by the stove, Daisy looked at him thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right," she said.
"Hi, Mike," Slim said. "Come on over here. Jess wants to see you."
"Really?" Mike's face lit up. He hadn't been allowed to see Jess for over a week. "Right now?"
"Right now. But you got to leave the room if I tell you to. OK?"
"Sure!"
"Good." Slim's hand slipped gently over the boy's blonde head. "And, look, Tiger, you got to be careful. You could hurt him, especially on that left side."
"I know," Mike said, sounding older than his years.
Putting a hand on the child's back, Slim steered him toward the room. "Now remember. He's real sick," he said before he let Mike go in.
Mike nodded and gingerly entered the bedroom, walking very carefully to Jess' bedside. Jess had his eyes closed and looked grey and thin. The boy was afraid to speak to him.
Then Jess' eyes opened. He looked up at Mike with a gentle smile and reached for the boy's hand. "I'm not asleep," he said, his voice deep and warm, the way Mike remembered it. "It's OK."
All of sudden, the pent up sorrow in Mike welled up and flooded to the surface. He fell on the bed, buried his head in Jess' unwounded shoulder and started crying uncontrollably. Jess' arm tightened around him, but the pain was too much. He couldn't suppress a groan. "Easy, Tiger, not so rough."
It took a few minutes for Mike to make sense of what Jess' was saying. When he did, he pulled back in horror. "I'm hurting you! I didn't mean to! I promised Slim..."
"Take it easy, Tiger." Overriding the pain, he wiped at the tears on Mike's face and let his hand fall on the boy's neck, pulling close again. "I'm hurtin' anyway. It ain't your fault."
Mike dropped his head on Jess' upper arm, clutched at the covers covering him and sobbed. Jess stroked his head and neck and let him cry.
After a while, the tears were spent and the boy lifted his head and wiped his sleeve across his tear streaked face. Sniffing hard, he tilted his head back trying to get his nose to stop running.
"You might try one of those wash rags on the table there," Jess teased him.
Mike brightened a little. Flashing a bashful smile, he grabbed a towel and wiped his face and blew his nose.
"Better?" Jess asked.
Mike nodded. Jess reached out his hand again, and Mike wrapped both of his around it, looking at Jess with tear damp eyes. "Are you...mad at me?"
"Mad at you! What're you talkin' about?"
The boy's face crumpled with embarrassment. "Because… I...was crying…"
"Hey, Tiger," he said gently, "Sometimes it's real good to get things out. Cryin' is just as important as laughin'."
"Are you sure?" This didn't match up with what he'd heard from the boys at school. Besides, he'd never seen Jess or Slim cry.
"Sure as shootin'!"
"I've never seen you or Slim cry," he said, voicing what he was thinking.
"You just ain't been around us enough," Jess said, sadness in the depth of his blue eyes. "Some things are worth cryin' about. I'd cry on the spot if I lost you."
"You would?"
"You know, your cryin' just now showed me how much you care about me."
"It did?" The boy forgot some promises. He gently crawled into the bed next to Jess and carefully snuggled up to him. "I do care about you, Jess. I love you a lot."
"I love you, too, Mike." He savored the boy's closeness. "I love you, too…"
After a while, Mike said timidly, his face hidden against Jess's shoulder, "You're going to get well, aren't you?"
A wave of helpless grief swept over Jess. He couldn't find the breath to answer the question.
"Please, Jess!" Mike cried, pressing closer to him, "Please, promise me you'll get well!"
Jess struggled for control, fighting physical pain and crushing sorrow. He had to do this right. "I can promise I'll stay with you as long as I can," he said slowly.
Mike saw through this with surprising swiftness. "Why not for always? You got to promise me that! Always!"
"I can't promise that," Jess said sadly. "I wish I could."
"Why can't you? You got to!" Mike was crying again.
Jess tightened his arm around the boy, his own face creased with agony. He waited a minute, trying to get his breath, hoping he was going to use the right words. "Because… because, some things ain't up to me, Tiger."
"I don't care! You got to promise!" Mike locked down his grip on Jess, clinging to him with all his might. "You got to!" he sobbed.
Jess gasped. "Mike!" he ground out, "You're... hurtin' me…"
Once more it took a moment for these words to penetrate Mike's grief but when they did he pulled away instantly, still crying but terrified that he'd hurt his foster father. "I...I'm sorry…" he wept. "I...didn't mean...to… I just wanted you to promise.." He fell on the bed again, making sure he only got close enough just to touch Jess' side.
Jess was breathing hard, but he managed to say, "It's...OK...I'm OK…" When the pain eased a little, he rubbed the boy's arm, giving it quick, gentle squeezes, knowing he had to finish what he'd started. "Look, Mike," he said, his voice raspy but clear, "I can't tell the good Lord what to do. I'm goin' to fight hard to stay here with you, as hard as I can, but… I think the Lord knows what he's doin' and no matter what happens, everything will be OK."
"I don't want you to die! I don't care what the Lord wants!"
"Some things can be pretty hard to accept, Tiger, but if he calls me home, I guess he's got his reasons."
"You got to tell him you can't come! Then he'll let you stay here with me."
"I ain't the one to tell him that."
"Do you think it would help if I pray? I mean really pray hard for him to let you stay?"
Jess was careful with his answer. "It can't hurt," he said, "but if the Lord don't do what you want him to, I don't want you thinkin' I died because you didn't pray hard enough."
Mike pondered this, not just with his mind but with his heart, too. "I think he's already decided," he said with a quietness that surprised Jess. "You're going to get well."
"I hope you're right, Tiger. But now I'm goin' to ask you to promise me somethin'."
"What?" Mike peeked up him, suspicious.
"Even if I don't make it, even if I die….I want you to go livin' your life. There' a lot more of it for you - whether I'm around or not. Can you promise me that?"
"But I want you!" Mike said, burying his face into Jess' side.
"I know you do. And I'm always goin' to be a part of you, no matter what. And Slim and Daisy'll be here for you. This will always be your home."
"But you're going to try to stay here with me, right? You got to promise me that."
"I promise. I'm goin' to try as hard as I can." His arm around the boy tightened, and he pulled him as close as he could. "You got to trust me, Mike. Everything's goin' to be alright."
They lay side by side for a long time, drawing comfort and strength from each other but the pain in Jess' chest finally got the best of him. Breathing was hell, and he felt like he was about to have another coughing spell.
"You got to go, now, Mike," he said gently. "Maybe you better get Slim or Daisy to come in here…"
Mike raised up to look at him and saw the grimace on Jess' face. "You're hurting, aren't you?"
"Yeah...Go on now. Go get Slim!"
Mike jumped up and ran out of the room, yelling, "Slim! Where are you? Jess needs you!"
Slim strode out of the office and into the bedroom, getting to Jess' side just before he was overcome with violent coughing. Slim pulled him upright and held him as Jess buried his head in his partner's shoulder, gagging and choking until bloody fluid flooded out into the towel Slim was holding beneath his chin.
When the coughing stopped, Jess' right hand dropped to his side. He was too exhausted to hold it up. Slim threw the stained towel aside and, holding Jess up with one hand, used another cloth to wipe his partner's face. Then he laid him down on the bed. "How're you doing?" he asked, deeply concerned.
"It's hurtin' bad, Slim…," he groaned.
"You need to get some rest. Do want some laudanum?"
"It's not that bad," Jess lied. "I...don't like… that stuff. It makes me...feel like I been drinkin' too much."
"At least you could sleep. Sometimes I think you're trying to prove something to yourself," Slim said, irritated that he couldn't get Jess to be sensible and anxious that he couldn't take his pain away.
"That ain't so!" Jess snapped back. "I'd find somethin'...a damn sight...easier...to do that...if I was tryin' to that."
"Alright, but you need to try to get some sleep – now!"
Jess' breathing was easing a little. He nodded, but his eyes were still squeezed tight. "Just don't tell Mike I'm this bad off." He shot a quick look at Slim to make sure he heard him. "OK?"
"Sure, partner...but maybe he's too much for you. We better wait a while before he comes in here again."
"No!" Jess said with all the strength he had. "I need him. And he needs me. I want to spend all the time I can with him."
Slim frowned again. It seemed like he was always having to make hard decisions about what was best for Jess, but being with Mike was clearly important to his partner. "OK, but you got to try to get some rest." He adjusted the pillow beneath Jess' head. "I'll be here if you need anything."
Slim pulled up a chair and leaned back in it, tired and worried. A relapse was always a threat. Jess looked sicker now than he had in the last couple of days and his pain seemed to be getting worse again. The rancher made himself as comfortable as he could and settled down to keep watch. After a while, Jess fell into a restless sleep. With the best of intentions to stay awake, Slim dozed, too.
About one o'clock in the morning, Jess' restlessness got worse, and he started groaning. All of a sudden, he sat straight up in bed as if startled out of a very bad dream. Then he fell back on his left side and doubled up in agony, rolling his upper body half way off the bed and fighting for breath. He tried to call for his partner, but his cry for help was muffled by a choking gurgle in his throat.
Slim heard him and woke up like he'd been stung by a scorpion. He was at Jess' side in one long stride and caught him before he fell on the floor. As gently as he could, he propped up on the pillows.
"Slim…" Jess moaned. His whole face seemed to have contracted in pain. With his eyes tightly shut, he reached out into the void, seeking contact with his partner.
"I'm here," Slim said and grabbed his hand. "It's OK. Take it easy, Jess. You're only going to make it worse moving around."
"It hurts... so much! Oh, God, it hurts, Slim!" he cried.
"Hold on. I'll get the painkiller." Slim filled the glass on the bedside table with water and dribbled an extra amount of laudanum into it. "Here," he said, lifting him up so he could drink, "this will help."
After he lay back down on the pillows, Jess stared up at Slim with bloodshot eyes. He didn't seem fully conscious. Another wave of agony hit him and he choked on a scream, clinging frantically to Slim's arm. He lay back panting. The laudanum was taking effect, but it wasn't enough to put him to sleep. He grimaced as the fire in his chest shot through him again. When it passed, he lay gasping for air, but trying to talk.
"I...was dreamin'...," he slurred out the words, "…about...Laura..."
"About Laura?" Slim asked, breathing hard. Wrestling with Jess' sickness was testing the big man's strength, and he didn't like the way Jess was talking. It sounded like a premonition of death. "Jess, she's been gone for a long time."
"It...it didn't start out with her. It was that man with the black cloak. I saw his face...a skull...he's after me…" Jess seemed to drift off for a moment, but then he said, "He was standing...on a ...rock...but that rock...fell apart... A black hole...was under it. That devil was reachin' for me…" His voice tightened with fear. "He was...tryin' to pull me into that hole… then he turned into Laura… There was...a little gap...between us… She called out to me… I wanted to jump over that gap." He stopped, and his eyes opened. He looked at Slim with a mixture of sadness and awe. "...but I heard Mike callin' me… I couldn't jump." He reached for Slim's hand again. "Then she changed back...back to that devil…. He grabbed me and pulled me over, down into that hole. I fell… and fell… and I heard Mike screamin' and Laura screamin', too. And Death was laughin' and laughin'..."
With his free hand, Slim used a damp cloth to wipe beads of sweat from Jess' forehead. "You sure don't need a dream like that, partner. And you shouldn't pay too much attention to it. It's just a dream."
Jess broke out into another fit of coughing and gagging. He couldn't get enough oxygen. Gasping and panting and feeling panicked, he clung to his partner. Slim was in despair, unable to help him.
"I need...some... more of that stuff..." Jess choked out.
Slim hurriedly filled another glass with water and put a liberal amount of painkiller in it. No side effect of the medicine could be worse than what Jess was going through. He helped Jess get it down and held him in his arms until the numbing effect kicked in. The pain finally eased, and Jess' heavy breathing quieted. As his tense body relaxed, his head slowly sagged against Slim's chest, and he slept.
Slim settled him on the bed once more, but when he started to pull the bed covers over him, he discovered to his horror a blood stain on the sheet the size of a man's hand. The wound had broken open. Slim knew there was a good chance there was internal bleeding, too. No wonder Jess had been in such pain. The rancher made an instantaneous decision. There was nothing more he could do here to help Jess. He had to ride to town for Doc Higgins. Slim finished covering Jess up and strode out of the room.
In the living room, he grabbed his gun belt and buckled it on, then hurried to his office and got Jess' gun out of one of the desk drawers. He made sure it was loaded, stuck it in his waist band, ran up the stairs and knocked at Daisy's door. He saw the light of her lamp at the bottom of the door just before she opened it, still pulling on her robe.
"What wrong?" she asked, alarmed.
Slim briefly explained the situation, and she ran down the steps with him to Jess' room. She quickly checked the wounded man out and agreed with Slim that the only thing to do was go to town for Doc Higgins. Before he turned to leave, Slim pulled Jess' revolver from his waistband and handed it to her.
"I don't think that gang is anywhere around here but just in case…" he said.
She nodded. "I know where the rifle is, too. You go on now. We'll be fine."
It was nearly dawn when Slim got back with the doctor. Higgins examined Jess thoroughly, listening intently through his stethoscope to his lungs. He removed the blood soaked bandage from the oozing wound and seemed relieved.
"It looks worse than it is," he said. "There's a lot of noise in his lungs I don't like, but there's no indication that there's internal bleeding."
"Thank God!" Daisy exclaimed.
"Are you sure about that?" Slim asked. It was hard for him to believe something else wasn't wrong. Jess had been in too much pain.
"I would have to cut him open to be sure. He wouldn't survive that."
Slim eased off. He knew the truth of what Higgins said.
With quick efficiency, the doctor, with Daisy's help, rewrapped a perfectly fitted bandage around Jess' chest, shoulder and arm. Thanks to the laudanum, Jess went through everything without moving or making a sound. His breathing was calm and steady, and if not that of a healthy person, at least he was free of the horrible rattling of the coughing attacks. His pulse was relatively stable, too. Listening through the stethoscope, the doctor felt some satisfaction that Jess' heartbeat was strong, even though it was faster than it should be. He took off the instrument and put it back in his medical bag.
"No matter what he went through earlier," he said, turning to face Slim, "at the moment he's doing relatively well. This wasn't exactly harmless, but it wasn't life-threatening either. Thankfully, it seems to have been only external."
"You got an idea why it happened?" Slim asked, wanting to confirm what he already suspected.
"It looks like a tear from too much moving around or moving too quickly. What's he been doing today?"
After Slim described the evening's events, Dan was medically indignant. "You shouldn't have told him about Mike. Or let the boy see him. No wonder that affected his physical condition. It was too soon."
"It's hard to say no to him, Doc. He knew I wasn't telling him everything. I can't lie to him. And he woke up after a nightmare about Laura. That's when it got really bad."
"Laura? That's the wife that died, right? From what I know that was a long time ago."
"She was pretty real to him in the dream. He's been having nightmares of some kind of devil with a black cloak. He thinks he's death and that he's coming after him. He was real upset and hurting - as bad as I've ever seen. I was afraid the coughing was going to kill him."
"Well," Dan said, "there's risk in everything right now. Jess is a long way from being over the hump, and we can't be sure of anything for a long time to come."
"I gave him a lot of laudanum. When I see him sleeping so hard, I wonder if it was too much. I...I wonder if he'll wake up."
"Don't worry. He's just heavily sedated. He'll sleep for at least twenty-four hours, maybe more."
"You think he'll have any bad effects from the high dose?"
"I don't believe so."
"Jess doesn't like that stuff. He's afraid he'll get so he needs all the time."
"That's not a danger for Jess," Higgins said. "He's too strong-willed. I want him to take it when he needs it instead of waiting until he needs a double dose. He should be glad it makes the pain more bearable."
"You know Jess."
"Yes, I'm afraid I do." The doctor took his patient's pulse again and felt his forehead to see if his fever had risen. "Everything seems to be holding steady," he said, relieved. He gathered his things, and Daisy walked with him to the front door.
The sun had risen and the doctor still had a long day ahead of him, but his horse knew the way back to Laramie. Dan gave him his head and slept as best as he could, his arms wrapped around the reins and locked together for balance as the buggy bounced toward town.
Jess slept through the day and the following night. Even that morning he had trouble waking up, but the long rest proved to be a more effective medicine than anything Doc Higgins could have prescribed.
END OF CHAPTER 12
