Chapter Fourteen

Both men heard their own shot, plus the shot of the other. Those in the street who witnessed the gunfight did not immediately know if either one had been hit.

Bret looked closely at each man's face. Adam's was the epitome of cool and calm. But then Bret thought he might have already made peace with his possible death. He was that kind of man. McCovey's face was blank, but soon began to shimmer with sweat. Bret's conclusion was confirmed when McCovey dropped to his knees. The man never lowered his gun. He never took his eyes off Adam. Even when he fell face first in the dirt of the street, his eyes were open and his hand still gripped his gun. Moving into the street, Bret knelt next to McCovey and pushed him over on his back. Adam's bullet had pierced McCovey's heart.

Very slowly, Adam holstered his gun and raised his right hand to his left arm. He looked at it, and seeing blood spreading down the fabric of his shirt, he allowed a heavy breath to escape.

As Bret approached him, he stopped short, his mouth slightly open. "You're hit?" When Adam nodded, he said, "You didn't even flinch."

"Would you help me get Aubrey's trunk in the buggy?" asked Adam.

After his hand waved and pointed, Bret's men came forward and lifted the trunk into the buggy, then drove it to the side of the Parker House while Bret and Adam walked back inside. The doctor had just arrived, so the two men stood at the bar and quietly sipped whiskey while they waited. Both watched the doctor as he came down the stairs. His introspectiveness as he slowly descended the stairs told both men Aubrey's condition was bad. In reality, it was worse than either of them imagined after seeing what they could of McCovey's handiwork.

As he sipped whiskey from the glass waiting for him on the bar, the doctor spoke to the back wall as Bret and Adam considered the same wall. Without looking at either one of them, the doctor said, "McCovey outdid himself. I cleaned her wounds and set a broken finger. She needs to keep cool cloths on her eyes. Her bruises and abrasions will heal with time, but we'll have to watch for infection. There are some internal injuries that concern me. In the meantime, she needs time, gentlemen, and I mean quiet, peaceful time. I don't want her to do anything but rest for the next few weeks. I'll come by in a few days and check on her."

"How much for your services?" asked Adam.

Setting his empty glass back down on the bar, the doctor moved to Adam's side and looked at his arm. "Shall I take a look at that?"

Shaking his head, Adam said, "It's just a crease."

The doctor shrugged and headed for the door. He didn't stop his progress as he said, "You don't owe me a thing. I should be thanking you for eliminating a blight on this city's female population."

Pouring another glass of whiskey, Adam said, "You have to tell her you don't need the money she earns you. Until you do, she won't leave with me."

Quietly setting his glass on the bar, Bret turned away leaving Adam alone and climbing the stairs.

Adam's head slightly turned at the sound of the door at the top of the stairs opening and closing.

Leaning against the closed door, Bret looked at Aubrey who appeared asleep. His heart ached at the sight of the woman he loved beaten to the point she was almost unrecognizable. That didn't matter to him. She was a beautiful woman, but she was more honest, more genuine that any woman he'd ever known. He'd probably laugh that his assessment of Aubrey was the same as Adam's. But Adam was a younger man, and he lived in paradise whereas all Bret could give her was more of the same. He knew his offer was beneath her.

Quietly moving to the chair at the side of the bed, Bret sat down and took Aubrey's right hand, looking at her broken index finger, an important digit when dealing cards.

She stirred. "Bret…" she coughed, then smiled. "I saw McCovey drop and thought…finally, his campaign against women is over. Adam was still standing. Is he all right?"

"McCovey's bullet creased his left arm. A few inches to the right, and it could've been his heart. But Adam had the better aim. He didn't miss McCovey's."

A long silence was broken by Bret. "I don't need you here. You need to go with Adam when he goes back to the Ponderosa."

She looked away. "Adam doesn't want me to play poker."

"Stop making excuses, Aubrey. I don't need the money you make on the poker table. You've made us both a small fortune, and all you've given me is tucked away in a safe downstairs. I haven't used any of it. I had hoped…" Hanging his head, he said. "It doesn't matter."

Moving to her side to face him, she covered his hand with her good hand. "It does matter. I owe you so much."

"Girl, you need to understand you've paid me many times over. You've played poker since you were a small child." Leaning down to her, Bret kissed her forehead. "It's time for you to let this go and have a normal life."

"I don't know how," she whispered.

"Cartwright knows that. He's a patient man. And he loves you. He can give you the life you deserve." Bret patted her hand and stood. "I'm going to make arrangements for your trunk to be brought up to your suite. I'll put Cartwright up in another room. You'll be here for a while yet before you leave for the Ponderosa."

Slowly going down the stairs, Bret stopped at the bottom and regarded Adam who was still standing at the bar, but was looking at the mirror, his glass suspended just beyond his lips. "I've done all I can, Cartwright. The rest is up to you."

Adam set his glass on the bar without taking a drink and watched Bret's reflection in the mirror as he walked to the back of the big gambling hall where the owner of the Parker House disappeared into the house office. Turning, Adam looked up the stairs, then took a deep breath and climbed them. Very quietly, he knocked on the door.

Her voice sounded much stronger than he expected. "Come in."

He smiled when he opened the door and stepped in. After laying his hat on a dresser, he sat on the chair Bret had previously occupied. Lifting her right hand off the bed, he closely considered it. It appeared McCovey intended to make it difficult for her to deal cards…not enough to stop her, but rather just enough to make the permanence of her injury noticeable.

"Aubrey…"

"I've been here before, Adam. I'll be all right."

Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed it. "McCovey's violation of you changes nothing."

A tear ran down her cheek. "I've been…violated…before, but never as viciously. I wouldn't blame you if you…if I'm not…" Unable to look him in the eye, she turned away.

"Aubrey, this wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it? I seduce men for a living."

"Being a good poker player doesn't make you a harlot. If that were true, McCovey and every other man who plays poker for a living is no better."

"That goes without saying." She smiled. "Dear Adam. You know that is not what proper society believes. Men get to go on with their lives as if nothing happened."

"It doesn't matter what anyone else believes. You and I know society has it wrong."

"Despite that fact, Adam, this will follow us, and it could harm you and your family more than you know."

"Aubrey, there are only a few people who know what happened, and none of them are going to say a word."

"That's not true. There were men watching in a circle…cheering him on. They'll all talk…boast."

Adam knew she was trying to be brave, but by now, her chin was quivering. Gently raising her up into his arms, he held her. The longer he held her, the closer she came to breaking down until finally, he said, "You don't have to be strong. Let it out."

She did, sobbing in his arms as daylight faded in the window.