Marston picked up the other's hand and pressed it gently. "How do you do,
sir? I've been looking forward to meeting you."
The older man said nothing for a long minute. Then he opened his mouth and breathed out heavily. "Marsss-ton.Sit.down.there." A hand pointed weakly at a chair.
"Dad, we've got to get back to the hotel." Sam pushed herself away from the door and hurried to the bed. The boys stood against the wall, their eyes on their visitor.
"You can...wait.a few minutes." The tone was one of command, as if the speaker did not know that his voice was almost painfully fragile. "Take the boys.out of here."
Marston watched as Sam fought an internal battle. Finally she nodded, her common sense giving way to the older instinct of obedience. She turned to her brothers, taking Conn's hand and Niall's shoulder and pushing them towards the door. Liam stalked ahead with adolescent dignity, disdaining the label of boy.
On the threshold she looked back. Marston nodded in response to her unspoken question. Liam scowled and reached past her to pull the door shut.
Marston turned back to his host. The older man's breathing was harsh in the sudden silence of the room. His eyes were closed but opened when he heard the door.
"We.haven't got much time.." A raspy chuckle escaped him. "No.make that.I haven't...got much time.I can feel." He coughed, the covers shaking with the paroxysm.
Marston reached for the water glass and raised the other's head so he could drink. Flanagan nodded and waved him back.
"I can feel.the next one coming.My hands get shaky." He suddenly looked up and once again Marston saw a younger, stronger man, now a prisoner. "What do you want?" The eyes were fierce and stern. Tension held his body rigid as he waited for the answer.
Marston understood. "I want to marry your daughter. And I am willing to take care of your family."
Flanagan nodded and fell back on his pillows. "Good." His eyes closed again.
"But she's very stubborn and it's going to take some time to win her over." Marston leaned forward to watch the older man. "First of all I want to move you to some place where you can get proper medical care."
Flanagan shook his head. "No.no more time.for me. Very soon now." He waved his hand in the air weakly. "Take them away. Don't let them.see me die."
Marston frowned. This was going to be harder than he thought. "But at a hospital. "
"No! Take them someplace.safe." A hand shot out and gripped his wrist. Marston flinched at the unexpected force. "For God's sake...man.let me die in peace!"
The old man was panting and sweat beaded his face. Marston watched his efforts. Sam would probably be upset but he had no choice. He would make her understand. "Very well. I promise you that I will marry your daughter and I will take your sons out to my ranch where they will be safe. We're days away from the nearest neighbors."
Flanagan opened his eyes again. The brief revival of strength had passed and something mortal looked out at the world. He was right, he didn't have much time; and what he had left was too precious to waste on quarrelling.
Marston continued. "Why is Sam frightened? It's more than just worry."
Flanagan nodded. "Years ago.I let a man go.who should have been hanged for murder. But he was young...and I felt sorry for him." He licked his lips. "The murdered man's brother.found out.threatened to kill me.for it."
Marston frowned. "Has he tried it?"
"A few times.I think. But he's an important man now.Can't be seen with dirty hands." The old man gasped for air. "I've got some papers.can cause him trouble.in my bags. You take care of it.for Sam."
"Leave it to me. Everything will be fine." Marston looked at the door. It was asking too much of Sam to leave them alone for much longer. Any minute now she would be back. "I'll be back tomorrow with all the arrangements made."
"I don't think..I have any other.appointments." A low chuckle wheezed out of him. He sagged back on the bed, almost deflating into sleep.
Marston looked around for the bags the old man had mentioned. The trunk by the foot of the bed seemed the best place to start.
A quick rifling indicated several layers of boys' clothing, mended trousers, darned shirts and knitted socks. Official-looking papers were further down; on one yellowed certificate he caught the words of a marriage license. At the very bottom on one side, there was an oilcloth package that was about half an inch thick. He opened the flap and peered inside. Contracts and legal agreements over several years were folded together and wedged into the interior. He tugged at them but they didn't budge.
He tucked the package into his coat and rearranged the trunk again. The old man slept on, his breathing painfully loud. Marston moved as quietly as he could to the door and opened it.
Sam stood on the other side. She peered around him and scanned the room. Finally she looked up and large tears escaped down her cheeks. Marston held out his arms and she walked into them, shoulders shaking.
He held her tight in the upstairs hallway of a rundown brothel in a harsh frontier town. Inside the room behind them a life was ending.
And in the days ahead of them a new life would begin.
The older man said nothing for a long minute. Then he opened his mouth and breathed out heavily. "Marsss-ton.Sit.down.there." A hand pointed weakly at a chair.
"Dad, we've got to get back to the hotel." Sam pushed herself away from the door and hurried to the bed. The boys stood against the wall, their eyes on their visitor.
"You can...wait.a few minutes." The tone was one of command, as if the speaker did not know that his voice was almost painfully fragile. "Take the boys.out of here."
Marston watched as Sam fought an internal battle. Finally she nodded, her common sense giving way to the older instinct of obedience. She turned to her brothers, taking Conn's hand and Niall's shoulder and pushing them towards the door. Liam stalked ahead with adolescent dignity, disdaining the label of boy.
On the threshold she looked back. Marston nodded in response to her unspoken question. Liam scowled and reached past her to pull the door shut.
Marston turned back to his host. The older man's breathing was harsh in the sudden silence of the room. His eyes were closed but opened when he heard the door.
"We.haven't got much time.." A raspy chuckle escaped him. "No.make that.I haven't...got much time.I can feel." He coughed, the covers shaking with the paroxysm.
Marston reached for the water glass and raised the other's head so he could drink. Flanagan nodded and waved him back.
"I can feel.the next one coming.My hands get shaky." He suddenly looked up and once again Marston saw a younger, stronger man, now a prisoner. "What do you want?" The eyes were fierce and stern. Tension held his body rigid as he waited for the answer.
Marston understood. "I want to marry your daughter. And I am willing to take care of your family."
Flanagan nodded and fell back on his pillows. "Good." His eyes closed again.
"But she's very stubborn and it's going to take some time to win her over." Marston leaned forward to watch the older man. "First of all I want to move you to some place where you can get proper medical care."
Flanagan shook his head. "No.no more time.for me. Very soon now." He waved his hand in the air weakly. "Take them away. Don't let them.see me die."
Marston frowned. This was going to be harder than he thought. "But at a hospital. "
"No! Take them someplace.safe." A hand shot out and gripped his wrist. Marston flinched at the unexpected force. "For God's sake...man.let me die in peace!"
The old man was panting and sweat beaded his face. Marston watched his efforts. Sam would probably be upset but he had no choice. He would make her understand. "Very well. I promise you that I will marry your daughter and I will take your sons out to my ranch where they will be safe. We're days away from the nearest neighbors."
Flanagan opened his eyes again. The brief revival of strength had passed and something mortal looked out at the world. He was right, he didn't have much time; and what he had left was too precious to waste on quarrelling.
Marston continued. "Why is Sam frightened? It's more than just worry."
Flanagan nodded. "Years ago.I let a man go.who should have been hanged for murder. But he was young...and I felt sorry for him." He licked his lips. "The murdered man's brother.found out.threatened to kill me.for it."
Marston frowned. "Has he tried it?"
"A few times.I think. But he's an important man now.Can't be seen with dirty hands." The old man gasped for air. "I've got some papers.can cause him trouble.in my bags. You take care of it.for Sam."
"Leave it to me. Everything will be fine." Marston looked at the door. It was asking too much of Sam to leave them alone for much longer. Any minute now she would be back. "I'll be back tomorrow with all the arrangements made."
"I don't think..I have any other.appointments." A low chuckle wheezed out of him. He sagged back on the bed, almost deflating into sleep.
Marston looked around for the bags the old man had mentioned. The trunk by the foot of the bed seemed the best place to start.
A quick rifling indicated several layers of boys' clothing, mended trousers, darned shirts and knitted socks. Official-looking papers were further down; on one yellowed certificate he caught the words of a marriage license. At the very bottom on one side, there was an oilcloth package that was about half an inch thick. He opened the flap and peered inside. Contracts and legal agreements over several years were folded together and wedged into the interior. He tugged at them but they didn't budge.
He tucked the package into his coat and rearranged the trunk again. The old man slept on, his breathing painfully loud. Marston moved as quietly as he could to the door and opened it.
Sam stood on the other side. She peered around him and scanned the room. Finally she looked up and large tears escaped down her cheeks. Marston held out his arms and she walked into them, shoulders shaking.
He held her tight in the upstairs hallway of a rundown brothel in a harsh frontier town. Inside the room behind them a life was ending.
And in the days ahead of them a new life would begin.