Chapter 4

When Eleanor woke up, her mother was no longer beside her in the bed. Warm sunrays fell on her face and she slowly started realizing it was almost noon. The sun couldn't be this warm in the morning, not this time of year. She sat up in bed and listened, afraid the gang had returned and had decided to shoot everybody except her. But she calmed when she heard her mother's demanding voice outside and the water pump being operated. "come on now, put your back into it! A young man like you should know how to handle a little water pump!" it seemed like her mother had decided to put Frank to work. Good, they could use the extra pair of hands.

She got up and dressed, listening to any other sounds. Only grandpa's rocking chair on the front porch gave it's familiar squeak. No sound coming from Butch' room. Fearing he hadn't lasted the night, she peered around his doorway. His position had slightly changed, but not much. One of his legs hung over the side of the bed. He slept in utter silence. She knew it was dangerous to wake him, the gang had warned her about it several times. But he wouldn't survive if he kept sleeping like a hibernating bear.

"Mr. Cavendish?"

No answer, he didn't even stir. She walked up to the bed silently to get a closer look. Simply sleeping, his face looked a lot less menacing and dangerous. His breathing was slightly laboured due to his pained abdomen, she had seen it in worm infected livestock before. She noticed his bedroom window was open, he had probably vomited a couple of more times during the night. She felt a pang of sympathy rising up for the ailing criminal. Now without his gang, vulnerable and at the mercy of people he didn't know.

"You always sleep with your boots on?" she said, more to herself than to him when she noticed he hadn't taken off his boots at all. Carefully, she tried to pull them off, not wanting to wake him right now. The first one went without a reaction, the second one made his eyes twitch a little, as if he was feeling something from beyond the world of dreams and didn't like it. She placed the boots next to the bed and thought about what to do next.

"I know what it's like to feel like you want to sleep forever. It just hurts too much when you're awake" she started, not knowing if he could hear her or not. "but I don't believe your dreams are that much better than reality. After all you've done, all you are, there must be something haunting you when you close your eyes" she continued. He let out a big sigh, but there was no reply to meet her, so she decided to turn and leave.

"dangerous to go and wake sleepin' dogs" she spun around on her heels to the sound of his voice, hoarse and raw from the depths of sleep. He was looking at her with one eye opened. "especially for a gurl like yerself" she got over her shock to see him awake quickly and tried to look defiant in his dangerous state of awareness. "You're no dog, sir. And you cannot expect me to let you sleep in my bedroom until you die of dehydration and starvation" she said and watched as he tried to pull himself in a sitting position, only to fall back down crying out in pain. "Ray!" he yelled, calling out for his sidekick. "Ray! Git over here!"

It was Frank who stormed into the bedroom with a panicked look on his face. He was wearing one of her father's old shirts. Mother had apparently decided to give him some clean clothes before putting him to work on the ranch.

"It's alright, Butch! Ye calm down now, aint nothing to be yellin' about" Frank tried to calm his leader, but to none avail. Butch reached out and grabbed the front of Frank's shirt, pulling him close to his face. "where's Ray?! Git Ray!" he snarled and let go, causing Frank to stumble back. "He aint here, Butch! Ray left with the others last night. They're coming back in a week! Ah..ahm here" he smiled a little, pointing at himself. Butch let the news progress through his clouded, feverish mind. "where did they go?" he asked. Frank shrugged and shook his head, sitting down on the side of the bed, something Butch didn't seem to appreciate.

"Ah don't know. But these here folks aint so bad. They let ye stay till yer all better, aint that nice?" Frank asked, looking slightly hopeful that his leader would settle down in the current situation, but the older man just rolled his eyes and reached up to comb his long hair down. His movements were slow and it was obvious they cost him a lot of effort. "Go git me some water, ye stupid fool" the outlaw grumbled, pushing Frank off the bed. The young man shrieked and fell to the wooden floor. "Yes, Butch. Right away" he said, getting to his feet quickly and stumbling out of the room.

"He was very worried about you. He still is" Eleanor said. Butch looked up at the young woman standing at the foot end of the bed. "you.. you were here last night too. I recognize you. Don't ye have a fellar of yer own to bother late at night?" he sneered, hoping she would be offended and leave, but she simply crossed her arms and tilted her head at him. "I wouldn't have bothered you if you hadn't shattered our water pitcher and thrown up in our water basin" she shot back, but he shook his head. "No, no.. after that. Ye were the one talking, I recognize yer voice now" he explained, gazing at her curiously. "won't ye tell me what that was all about? Ah don't git a lot of ladies like yerself visiting me at night, so I kinda like to know what made ye enter this room" he went on, trying to chuckle, but he stopped when it hurt his abdomen.

Eleanor was confused, besides from giving him laudanum and getting a gun pointed at her, she hadn't spent any time with him in this room. "I wasn't here. I left after you pulled your gun out" she said. He narrowed his eyes and thought for a moment, he could have sworn she was there whispering in his ear, though he couldn't remember what she had said. He reached up and rubbed his tired eyes. "Ahm ailing, hallucinating like ah was bitten by a rattlesnake" he grumbled. "It's the fever, Mr. Cavendish, it does that. Once your fever breaks, the hallucinations disappear too" she told him, not wanting him to think he was losing his mind. "Oh, mah head" he complained, his arm over his eyes to block the light.

At that moment Frank entered the room holding a cup of water and a bowl of soup. "ah got yer water, Butch. And yer lunch. Mom made it fer you so ye better eat it, or yer in trouble" he chuckled nervously and placed the tray on his side table. "mom?" Butch asked, not removing his arm from his stinging eyes. "the hell yer talkin' about, Frank" Frank gulped and looked up at Eleanor for help, but she looked just as surprised. "well ah don't know what else te call her! And she don't correct me er nuthin'. So I just call Mrs. Mary Angela Hartley mom" the young man explained in exasperation. "Knucklehead" Butch mumbled, causing Frank to look rather offended.

"Frank! Are you done in there?! I need help with them cows!" Eleanor looked up when she heard her mother's demanding voice. Demanding enough to send Frank stumbling out of the room without saying anything else to his gang leader "comin' mom!" an awkward silence followed in the small bedroom. "got any more laudanum?" Butch asked eventually.

"After you've eaten, I'll get you some more" Eleanor said, picking up the tray and placing it on his legs, eventhough he was still laying down. "Ahm not hungry" she rolled her eyes, he was like a stubborn child. "Someone of your age should know you have to eat in order to get better, Mr. Cavendish. It's only chicken broth, it smells good" she said, stirring the bowl. He swallowed thickly, feeling nauseous enough without the bowl of chicken broth on his lap. "ah don't want to smell it either" he grumbled. "if you hold your breath you won't taste or smell it" Eleanor suggested. He removed his arm from his eyes to give her a dangerous glare and very gingerly pulled himself into a sitting position. Sweat trickled down his face as he leaned back against the headboard and looked around for a moment, catching his breath. She gave him a sympathetic look when their eyes met.

"You really don't feel good, do you? I would have hoped you'd feel a little better today" she said. He reached out with a trembling hand to pick up the glass of water and drank a few careful sips. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was. She listened to the sounds of his upset stomach and hoped he would keep this water down. He needed to get some fluids into his system and preferable something nutritious too. "you think you can handle the broth?" she asked. He eyed the bowl suspiciously, not sure if he could keep it down. "I promise to give you something for the pain and let you sleep after this" she urged. He reached out and pulled the tray closer, grabbing the spoon. "ye better hold on to that promise" he grumbled and took a small spoonful of broth. The noises in his stomach intensified and he closed his eyes momentarily when he felt it sting, but nothing came back up and so he kept eating.

It was a small victory for Eleanor. The sooner he'd get better, the sooner he'd leave. And she didn't think the gang would take it lightly if they returned after a week to find their leader in a coffin either. He had to get better, one way or the other, to keep her family and herself safe and the ranch intact. He worked his way through the broth bravely and finished the both with slight difficulty and placed the empty bowl back on the tray, giving her a wary look. "Now git me that laudanum" he growled. She smiled and got up from the bed, proud of her patient. She went into her mother's room to open her medicine box and pulled out the bottle of laudanum. For a moment she was distracted by the view from the window. Her mother teaching Frank how to properly scrub down a pig. She chuckled at the sight of Frank chasing one of their squealing young hogs with a brush. It had been a while since she had heard her mother laugh that hard.

When she entered Butch' room, he had dozed off, snoring lightly like some men do after they had a good meal. In some strange way, it was an endearing sight and she decided not to disturb him. she placed the vial of medication on his side table, covered him with a quilt laying on the bed and left the room quietly.