Micah came into Doc Burrage's back bedroom with a smile on his face, but Luke could see the anguish in his eyes. "Thanks for coming."
The marshal pulled up a chair. "You don't look so bad."
"Except for this I feel fine." Luke rubbed his injured arm. "So far, anyway. Doc told you?"
The false smile dropped from the marshal's face and suddenly he looked like a very old man. "Yes, Lucas boy, he told me. I want you to know you don't have to worry about Mark. I'll take care of him."
The big man looked relieved. "You're a good friend, Micah. One of the best I've ever had. I'm depending on you to...well, just help him through this. We all owe God a death but I thought I'd have more time. And Mark...it's going to be hard for him to accept this."
"Not just him," said the marshal softly.
"I know." Luke was sitting on the bed and now he got up and took a turn about the room, stopping at the window to stare out at the street. "Maybe you can help each other."
"Maybe we can." Micah joined Luke at the window. "Are you sure? You couldn't be mistaken about the dog?"
"I'm sure," said Luke grimly. "It was foaming at the mouth and it attacked me for no reason. Can you think of anything that could be other than rabies?"
"I suppose not." Micah sighed. "I'd better get back to the office. I need to get everything in order for the interim marshal." He nodded at the look on his friend's face. "That's right, Lucas boy. I'm going with you and Mark to Denver."
"Now wait a minute, Micah…"
"I already sent a telegram to the territorial governor," said the marshal placidly. "I'll deputize Nils, and when my replacement gets here he'll stay until I get back. You don't really want the boy to be alone on the trip home, do you?"
Luke's eyes stung. "No."
"Then it's settled. We'll go to Denver together. Might even have time to take in some of the sights before…" Micah cleared his throat noisily. "Before I bring Mark home. All right, Lucas boy?"
The big man managed a smile. "Thanks, Micah."