Chapter Fourteen
"Gone?"
Jess gripped the arms of the rocker he was sitting in. Trent was gone.
"Yeah," Mort said, and Jess heard the scrape of a chair as he pulled it up and sat down. "Only thing I can figure is that kid you told me about, that Timmo, musta come and got his pa's body to bury. I can see he wouldn't care to leave it for the animals to tear up."
" . . . a proper sendoff, not left out in the open for coyotes to find."
Jess's stomach tightened at the memory of the nightmare he'd had coming down out of the hills, of Timmo holding that razor to his throat and reminding him of how his failures had cost so many lives. He made his voice hard, emotionless.
"Then Timmo cut himself loose and got away before you got to the Mitchell place."
"He was gone," Mort said. "What happened there, Jess? I know you told me about them killin' Jim Mitchell and his wife and daughter. You didn't tell me there was blood everywhere."
Jess hadn't pictured that, though why he would have imagined anything else after three people had been mercilessly shot to death, he didn't know. It had been easier to think of the three of them just cold and still.
"That's all I know. I didn't do more'n strap Timmo to a chair with his belt and then give him that razor so he could cut hisself loose pretty quick."
"Yeah," Mort said. "I saw a chair turned over. I just wasn't expecting the blood. I guess I ought to have. I'll have to wire the towns around here to be lookin' out for him."
"Yeah." Jess exhaled. "He was pretty tore up over the whole thing, especially killin' Sally Mitchell. Whatever Trent pulled him into, I could tell he warn't cut out for that."
"You know I have to go after him, Jess. He helped kill those people and who knows who else."
"I don't think there was anybody else," Jess said. "The way it sounded to me, he come out to be with his Pa and got in over his head."
"He's the one who blinded you," Mort reminded him.
"Yeah, but he didn't go to do it. If you'd heard how busted up he was over Sally—"
"He's got to answer for it all the same."
Jess didn't say anything for a long moment, then he pushed back slightly and started the chair slowly rocking. Timmo. Pete. Even Sally. They were all young, all of them caught up in something that didn't end up how they meant it to. If Pete hadn't tried to be a hero— If Sally hadn't fought back— If Timmo hadn't thought being an outlaw was some kind of lark—
If Jess hadn't been too slow that day in the bank where it all started—
"I guess it's not much of a matter of who did it or why anymore," he said finally, thinking this was like having that razor slice into him and not feeling it right away because it was so deep and so sharp and then having the pain come in a sudden rush. "It's done."
He didn't say how bewildered he was. How lost. How terrified. He was blind. Helpless. Useless. Oh, God—
"Jess?"
Mort's steadying hand was on his shoulder.
"Yeah, I know," Jess said, swallowing down the fear and twisting his mouth into a wry grin. "We'll get through it."
"I mean it, boy." Mort had both hands on his shoulders now, briefly kneading the taut muscles and then releasing them with a sturdy pat. "Me and Miss Daisy and even little Mike, we'll be right alongside you whatever happens. And you know Slim will."
"Yeah."
Jess didn't dare say more. He was already pulled tighter than a fiddle string. If he let himself think too much on how they'd all took him in, how they'd all treated him like he mattered, how they'd all made him feel like he'd at last found home, well—
He blinked hard. "I gotta figure out what I'm gonna do now, Mort. Everything I know how to do, shoot, ride, rope, string fence, herd cattle, even change a team, I need to see to do."
"Now just rest easy, Jess." Mort's hand was on his shoulder again. "You don't have to think about that right away. For now, you're home and safe. Take a minute to catch your breath. Let Miss Daisy feed you up and spoil you a little." He chuckled softly. "You know she wants to."
"Yeah," Jess said, forcing a smile. "Sure."
"Now, Jess, it's only been two days."
"Yeah, two days. And how long you think Mike's gonna be able to look after the stock and do all the other chores around the place with me like this and Slim laid up? What about Daisy? She already does too much, more'n we have any right to ask of her. Slim can't pay her enough as it is."
"Jess Harper," Daisy said, bringing into the room with her more of the tantalizing smell of apples and cinnamon that had come from the oven for the past little while, "if you think money is what keeps me on this ranch, you're not as smart as I've always thought you were."
"Guess I've had you fooled all this time," he muttered.
"Nothing of the kind." She leaned down to press her cheek to his, and whispered, "You don't fool me one little bit, honey."
He leaned into her. Of course she knew. She always knew.
"Daisy—" He caught a steadying breath at the sound of a horse and buggy pulling up at the house and sat up straight. "Who is it?"
"Dr. Hanson at last," Mort said, and he opened the door. "We'd about given you up!"
"Mrs. Jeffries' baby came three weeks early," the doctor explained with a great deal of rustling of his coat and muffler and gloves. "But I knew I could trust Mrs. Cooper to see to things here."
"Come in, doctor," Daisy said. "I'll get you some coffee to warm you up while you have a look at Slim."
"I'll see to your horse," Mort said, and he went outside.
"Aunt Daisy?" Mike called from the kitchen. "Can I stop peeling potatoes?
"Not yet, dear. I'll be in there in a minute." Daisy lowered her voice. "How is he?"
"Let me have a look here," Dr. Hanson said.
Jess could hear him rummaging in his bag and pulling back the blankets that covered Slim there by the fire. He wished he could see the doctor's face. That always told him more than anything else how serious something like this was. Now he could only listen and wait.
At last the doctor gave a final-sounding sigh.
"How is he?" Daisy asked again.
"Still in a bad way, Mrs. Cooper," Dr. Hanson said. "You've done an excellent job with him, as well as I could have done myself, but I'm concerned about the infection in the wound."
"His fever is down," Daisy told him.
"Very much?"
"No," Daisy admitted. "But he has been conscious off and on. I've been giving him chicken broth and tea. And whiskey when he'll take it."
"Well, I don't know what you need me for, ma'am. You're doing all I could for him. The rest is up to him and the good Lord. Keep him up near the fire and keep it going. At this point, a chill might just carry him off."
"I'll see to it," Daisy said.
"Now, Jess," the doctor said, "let's have a look at you."
"All right," Jess said, not quite able to keep the tremor out of his voice.
Dr. Hanson pressed the back of his head, sending a spike of pain through Jess's skull. Then he pressed Jess's temples and forehead, asking him the whole time what hurt and how much it hurt and if any of it made any difference in what he could see. None of it did.
Jess felt the warmth of the lamp when the doctor brought it close to his face. The fumes from the kerosine and the burning lamp wick stung his eyes, but he saw no light.
"Nothing?" the doctor pressed.
Jess could only shake his head.
"Jess, dear," Daisy murmured, slipping her arm around him.
He had to force himself not to shrug away from her. He knew she meant well. He knew she only wanted to comfort him, but he couldn't take her pity, not just now. Not without making a sobbing fool of himself.
"I have read about cases like yours, Jess," Dr. Hanson said, his voice very gentle as he took hold of Jess's arm. "I don't want you to give up hope. In some of those cases, especially if not much time has passed since the injury, the patient has gotten his sight back, at least partially. It's not something I've come across myself, of course, but it has been documented. It's very early yet, and there's so much we don't know."
He'd been right when he'd said Daisy had already done everything he would have done. She'd already told Jess what to expect.
"I guess I'd best learn how to get along the way I am then," Jess said, lifting his chin. "Maybe there's something I could learn to do in town."
"There's plenty you can do right here, Jess," Daisy said.
"Sure. Wash dishes and clothes and shell peas. Feed the chickens. And you can help Slim round up cattle and bust broncs. And, hey, I bet you'll enjoy doin' the branding."
"Jess," she said, more worry than reproof in her voice.
"No, Daisy, we ought to say it straight out. I can't do ranch work anymore. I gotta find me somethin' else to do. Somewheres I can earn my way."
"There are schools," Dr. Hanson began. "Some good ones in California and back east—"
"No!" Mike ran from the kitchen and straight into Jess's arms. "You can't go away, Jess! You can't!"
Jess pulled him close. "Tiger—"
"Of course he can't," Daisy said firmly.
"Hear me out," the doctor said. "There are schools, very good schools, you could go to. You'd be amazed at what they can do."
"Schools to learn me what?" Jess asked, unable to keep a touch of acid out of his voice. "To string beads or braid leather? Maybe after a few years I could learn to mend harness."
Mike clung to him, hiding his face against Jess's chest.
"You think about it," Dr. Hanson said. "They can help you learn to get along on your own."
Jess nodded. "Yeah. I don't want people feelin' like they have to look after me the rest of my life."
The doctor patted his shoulder. "You think about it, Jess. It's nothing you need to decide right now, but you let me know if you want to hear more about it. Mrs. Cooper, you keep doing what you've been doing for both of them. I'll be back in a day or two to see how things are going."
Jess heard the rustle of Daisy's skirts as she and the doctor went to the door and then the sound of the doctor bundling up again. Then with a last goodbye and another blast of winter wind, the doctor was gone.
"Did you finish the potatoes, Mike?" Daisy asked, her voice especially cheerful.
"Not yet," Mike said with a sigh.
"It's all right," Daisy told him. "I'll see to them and to our special surprise. You stay with Jess for now. Jess, I'll be making some fresh coffee for you and for Mort when he comes back in."
"Thanks, Daisy," Jess said.
When she was gone, Mike crawled up into Jess's lap and nestled against him. "I don't want you to go, Jess." There was more than a hint of a sniffle in his voice.
"I don't want to go," Jess admitted. "But I can't let you and Daisy do all the work while I just sit around doin' nothin'. And I can't let Slim pay me for no work. It ain't fair."
"But he would, Jess. I know he would."
"I know," Jess said. "But it ain't fair."
Mike tucked his head under Jess's chin and was quiet for a minute.
"When the Indians got my ma and pa," he said finally, his voice not much more than a whisper, "I was too little to protect 'em."
Jess stroked his hair, trying to comfort him as best he could,
Mike huddled closer and twisted his fingers into Jess's shirt. "I'm bigger now. And I won't let anything happen to you or Slim or Aunt Daisy. Not ever."
"I know you won't, Tiger. I know me and Slim can count on you, no matter what happens, but mostly you gotta watch out for Miss Daisy. She's gonna need your help till Slim is better and when I'm—"
"Please don't go, Jess." Mike sobbed. "Please."
"Shh." Jess wrapped both arms around him. "It ain't for a while yet, whatever happens. And pretty soon Slim'll be all right, and he'll look after you just fine. You'll be all right. I promise."
Mike nodded against his neck and then hiccupped.
"Come on, Tiger," Jess coaxed. "You don't want to upset Miss Daisy, do you? You know how easy ladies cry, and then there's no stoppin' 'em."
That made Mike giggle and hiccup again, and then Jess heard Mort's boots on the porch.
"You'd better go let the sheriff in, Tiger, before he freezes solid out there."
"I'm comin', Sheriff Mort," Mike shouted, scrambling out of Jess's lap, and he ran to the door just as Mort pushed it open.
"I think it's turnin' colder," Mort said, huffing and puffing as he came to the fire to get warm. "I just had the doc's horse unharnessed and put up when he came back out for it. Shoulda known he wouldn't stay long. What'd he say?"
Jess's jaw tightened. "Just that Daisy ought to keep on doin' what she has been. Not much more he could tell. Nothin' more he could do."
Mort was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, Jess. I was hopin' he'd know of something that'd help you."
Jess shrugged.
"Would you like some coffee, sheriff?" Daisy said, coming into the room. "Supper will be ready before long."
"Thank you, Miss Daisy, I'll take the coffee, but I can't stay to supper. I've gotta get back to town before dark. And I need to go by the Dixson place and ask Len and Pete to come help out here when they can."
"They got their own place to worry over," Jess snapped. "They can't be runnin' ours, too."
"And they wouldn't have that place of theirs if it weren't for you and Slim," Mort said patiently. "You know they're happy to help."
Jess huffed but didn't argue.
"You can at least have some of the surprise Mike and I made," Daisy said.
"Before supper?" Mike asked.
"Just this once," Daisy told him. "And I've never noticed apple pie spoiled anyone's appetite around here."
Jess somehow managed to smile.
OOOOO
True to his word, Mort had his pie and coffee and headed back to town. Jess and Mike and Daisy ate dinner and then started to settle in for the night.
"I'll go take care of the horses," Mike said, "and I'll bring in more wood."
Jess patted his shoulder. "Thanks, Tiger. You hurry up. I don't want you turnin' into an icicle out there."
"I'll hurry fast!"
Mike put on his coat and scampered out the door, and Daisy came over to check on Slim.
"How is he?" Jess asked.
Daisy sighed. "About the same."
"I want you to sleep tonight," Jess told her, taking hold of her hand. "In your bed."
"I'd better not, dear. Slim might need something in the night."
"I'll sit up with him. I don't expect I'll be sleepin' much anyway. And if he needs somethin' I can't handle, I'll come get you."
"All right." She brushed the hair off his forehead with her free hand and then caressed his face. "I'd do anything to make you well again, Jess. I truly would."
"I know, Daisy." He brought her hand to his lips and then leaned his cheek against it. "That's the worst part of this. I can't look after you and Mike and even Slim anymore. I can't provide for you or protect you. I don't have any reason to even be around now."
"That's not true," she told him. "It's not true. You've saved all of us at one time or another, more than once. It's our time to help you now. Just for a while. Just until you get through this."
"You heard the doctor, Daisy. You know it yourself. I might never get through this."
"Yes, you will," Daisy said firmly. "I don't know if you'll see again. I pray God you will, but if you don't, you'll still get through this. You'll get through this because you always do. Even if it hurts, even if you don't think there's a way out, you never quit until you make a way."
She stroked back his hair again, and he knew she was looking deeply into his eyes with that sweet faith and trust she somehow always had in him and with her tender love.
"Daisy," he murmured, turning his face away.
"I know you, Jess Harper. You haven't changed just because you're hurt. I know you're afraid and unsure about what's going to happen now. Who wouldn't be? But I know you'll face it, and I know you'll make it through. And I know we'll all do everything we can to help you, because we couldn't do without you. This place wouldn't be home without you." Her voice broke. "Our family wouldn't be complete without you."
She hugged him close and he ducked his head against her shoulder, squeezing his eyes tight shut.
"Dadgum, Daisy," he said, trying to laugh as he pulled away. "You'd better not let Slim hear you sayin' all that. He'd be raggin' me over it all the way till next Christmas."
She sniffed and then laughed softly. "I won't tell him, but I'm sure he knows. And he'd tell you the same thing."
Now Jess laughed in earnest.
"Well," Daisy said, "maybe not in so many words. And you know Mike feels the same way."
"Shouldn't Mike be gettin' back inside by now?" Jess asked. "It couldn't have taken him this long to feed the horses and bring in some wood. Maybe I'd better go help him."
"Now, you'll do no such thing. I'll bring you some more coffee, and then I'll go get him. You stay here and look after Slim."
He huffed. "Yes, ma'am."
He spent several minutes drinking the coffee she brought him, turning over her words in his mind, trying to think what was best for her and for Mike and Slim. He'd given this place, this family, everything he had to give. He couldn't imagine leaving. But he'd never been one to take charity either. Helpless as he was now, what could he possibly do that would be of any use to any of them?
He'd have to think. There'd be time for that, at least a little time. Now he just needed to put it all aside. There'd be time enough to think on it tomorrow or the next day. When Slim was better, they could talk it over, maybe with Mort, too. He didn't have to decide anything right this minute.
He sat listening to the crackle of the fire and the tick of the clock. He listened to Slim's deep, even breathing and felt his too-warm forehead. Daisy and Mike ought to have come back by now. Maybe Mike had hurt himself in the barn. Maybe one of the horses had stepped on him, or maybe he'd fallen from the hayloft or cut himself somehow.
Jess felt around and found the long walkingstick Mike had brought him. He found his coat and hat, too, and put on his gloves. Then he found the door and stepped out into the cold. Little sprinkles of snow landed on his face and he ducked his head against the moaning wind.
As familiar as he was with the yard, he still managed to walk into the corral fence instead of the barn door he'd aimed for. Still, it was nothing to feel his way along the fence until he reached the barn and stepped into the relative warmth inside.
"Mike?" he called. "Daisy?"
There was only silence.
"Daisy, you there?" He turned at the rustle of straw. "Mike?"
There was a sudden rush of heavy footsteps and someone seized him from behind and clasped a suffocating hand over his mouth.
"Hello, Harper."
He was supposed to be dead. Trent was supposed to be dead.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, Jess wasn't expecting him! I'd love to know what you think now. Happy New Year!