Jim grabbed the knife he had buried in the fireplace and held it over Artie's leg. Jim couldn't bring himself to look at his partner, so he just plunged the hot knife into the wound. Artie's scream reverberated throughout the train and could be heard over the raging thunderstorm. Then he slumped and succumbed to the welcoming darkness of unconsciousness. Jim had to run outside where he threw up. When he returned to the room the smell of infection and the burned and charred flesh still hung heavily in the air. He redressed the wound and checked on Artie.
He, at least, was sleeping, if somewhat restlessly. Jim dismissed Collins and pulled a chair up beside the bed. It was going to be a long night. Jim sat his vigil, periodically checking Artie's temperature. He worried about what he would do if the fever didn't break by morning. Jim sat in the chair and rubbed his tired eyes and stretched his tired and aching muscles. Within minutes he was asleep.
The new day dawned gray and overcast. The men made as little noise as they could as they made their way through the train to begin cleaning the tracks again. The torrential rains had stopped for the moment, at least. The men paused by Artie's room. Collins quietly opened the door and peeked in. He pulled his head back out and informed the men in whispered tones that both Mr. West and Mr. Gordon were sleeping soundly. The men smiled and left the train to begin their days work.
Artie slowly woke, willing his eyes to focus on the world around him. He still felt the presence of the fever, but his leg didn't hurt as badly as it had the day before. Artie tested his limbs and discovered the sling. Leave it to Jim to think of a way to make movement nearly impossible, he chuckled. It was then his eyes fell on his sleeping partner. I sure do have a lot to make up to you, James. And I will too. I am going to do my best to be on my best behavior. No one should have to go through what you have, and I will find a way to make it up to you. He stared at the ceiling, resisting the urge to scratch at his wound. He winced and hissed in pain when he tried to shift to a more comfortable position and held his breath when Jim stirred. He needs his sleep, Artie thought, I'll just lie here, I can wait until Jim wakes up to change position.
Sometime later Jim began to stir again. He stretched and rubbed his eyes. He worked his shoulders to loosen them up. Artemus lay there watching him. There had to be something he could do to help him.
"Morning, James. You look like you could use some help. Want me to go make breakfast?"
"I'm fine, Artie. I'm not the one who's stuck in bed. Speaking of which how are you feeling this morning? Do you need anything?"
"I'm doing much better, thanks. I would like it if you could help me into a more comfortable position, my back is getting sore lying flat like this.
"I don't know, Artie. Maybe that's not such a good idea."
"Can't hurt, Jim. And if it hurts too bad I'll have you lay be back down I promise."
"Well, it's against my better judgment but I guess we could try it. As long as you promise to tell me the minute you start to hurt."
"I promise, Jim." Jim glared at his friend.
"Are you sure you're feeling okay, pal?"
"I'm fine, why?"
"Since when does Artemus Gordon take forced incapacitation without causing a ruckus that could be heard around the world?" Jim commented.
"Since I have decided you have been through enough already. I even decided to be a model patient, sleep when you tell me to, eat when you tell me to. You aren't the only one who doesn't want to have to break in a new partner, you know," Artie winked.
"Ah yes, well, speaking of that…I don't know about you but I'm starving. I think I'll go to the galley and whip us up something. Think you want to try some solid food, or would you rather just have some broth?"
"I'd like a steak but I don't think my stomach will tolerate it. Just some broth will be fine."
"All right then. I'll go get us something. I'll be back as quick as I can, why don't you try to rest some more," Jim rose and left the room, leaving Artemus in the deadly quiet.
Jim quietly opened the door and reentered Artie's room about half an hour later with a tray. Artie appeared to be resting. Jim carefully and quietly placed the tray on the bedside table. He removed the bowl of broth and placed it on the fire. He checked his sleeping friend and was somewhat concerned, his fever had gone down some but was still higher than Jim liked. He sat in the chair and ate his meal, keeping a close eye on Artemus as he ate.
Jim was leaned back in his chair drinking a cup of coffee when Artie began to stir. Jim set his cup down, rose and walked to Artemus' bed and gently perched on the edge, taking in his friends red cheeks. Jim hoped it was not the fever, but that Artie was getting his color back.
"Hey, pal, how are you feeling? I was beginning to wonder if you were going to sleep the day away again."
"Sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to fall asleep."
"That's ok, Artie, you need sleep. I kept your broth warm on the fire, let me get it," Jim rose and got the broth.
"Would you like me to help you or do you want to try it yourself?"
"Maybe you better do it, I don't think I could hold my head up and feed myself."
"No problem, pal. Here, let's sit you up a bit more first," Jim eased him into a sitting position, stopping once when Artie tried to suppress a groan.
"Artie, you don't need to hide your pain from me. It's plain even to a blind man that you're hurting. Just let it out, pal. I'm here to help."
"I know, Jim. And I really do appreciate everything you've done. I'm just trying to get a handle on this."
"Well, you just worry about getting better and don't worry about your pain and whether or not to let me see it. We both know you're in a hell of a lot of pain and don't you try to deny it, Artemus Gordon, I can see it in your eyes."
"All right, Jim, you win. I do hurt like hell. I just don't want to sound like a whinny little baby."
"You ARE a whinny little baby, Artie," Jim joked.
"I totally resent that remark, James. I resemble that remark but I still resent it."
Artie sighed and tried to settle back on the pillows. Jim brought the bowl of broth up to his friend and helped him get some of the hot liquid into his mouth. Artie swallowed and smiled, the broth tasted much better than the nasty medicines Jim had been forcing down him lately. Artie ate about a quarter of the bowl when he signaled Jim he had had enough. Jim set the bowl aside, wiped Artie's chin and mouth.
"That's all, pal? You didn't eat much, how are you feeling? Do you want to lie back down?"
"No, Jim, I'm all right. Just not very hungry right now. I promise I'll try to eat more next time," Artie shifted his leg and groaned.
"That's ok, pal, as long as you eat something. I'd hate for the President to see you just skin and bones," He said laughingly.
"I'm hardly wasting away, James. Just hurting like hell. Do you think any of the headache powders we have left might help? I don't want to sleep just get rid of some of this damned pain."
"That's a good idea, Artie. I have to send a wire to Colonel Richmond. I can get you the powders on my way back or would you rather I just get the powders first?" Jim questioned.
"No, send the wire, I'll be fine."
Jim left the room and went quickly to the main car. He sent a telegram to Colonel Richmond and while he waited for an acknowledgement a thought struck him and he sent another wire. He received an almost instant notification from Fredericksburg, Colonel Richmond had just happened to be in the telegraph office. He wanted an update on Artemus' condition.
Jim shot off a quick reply and asked for an update on the weather and traveling conditions. He grinned broadly at the reply, folded the paper and went to get the headache powders for Artie. He remembered the reply he was waiting for from the doctor and he grabbed the back up telegraph and headed back to his friend, glad that at last he had some good news. In his excitement, Jim didn't bother knocking he just threw the door open and the sight that greeted him shocked and angered him.
"Artie, just what in hell do you think you're doing? Lie back down right this minute. I leave the room for a few minutes and you take leave of your senses."
Jim put the telegraph and medicine on the sideboard and approached the bed. He grabbed Artemus by the shoulders to push him back into the pillows. He glared at him as he checked his forehead but he didn't seem to feel any warmer than he had earlier.
"Well, pal, I'm waiting. Just what did you think you were doing, trying to kill yourself? I thought you said you were going to be a model patient. If this is what you call model I'd hate to see what you call misbehaving," Jim yelled, his expression softened when he saw the look on Artie's face.
"I'm sorry, Jim, really I am. I had to uhm…er…well…I had to use the facilities. But I thought I could get there and back before you got back."
"That's no excuse, Artie. Do you have any idea what it would have done to me if I had found you lying on the floor?"
"I know," came the whispered reply.
"It's all right, Artie. It's just that you scared me. Don't ever do that again. Did you get to the WC?"
"I won't do it again, Jim, I promise. And, no I can't get out of bed on my own. My leg collapsed and I fell back here."
"Well, come on then, let's see if we can get you there and back in one piece."
Jim put Artie's good arm up and over his shoulder and he gentled placed his arm around Artie's waist. He loosened his grip when Artie moaned. Jim paused for a minute, then tried again. This time Artie was ready and braced himself against the pain. They made their way slowly down the hall, which was hard going as they had to walk almost sideways through the narrow aisle.
Stopping frequently for Artie to rest, Jim could tell it was taxing his meager reserves. He let Artie go in by himself and he waited patiently outside. He heard Artie's weak voice call him and he went in and got him. The trip back to Artie's room seemed to take longer and they had to stop more frequently for Artie to rest. Jim told his friend that he would move the chamber pot into his room. He was mildly surprised when Artie readily agreed. By the time they got back to the room Jim's shirt was soaked with Artie's sweat. He also noted that his breathing was becoming labored. Oh man, Artie has a long way to go this time, Jim thought. I can't wait to get to Fredericksburg and onto the trail of those bastards. He gently lowered Artie to the bed.
"Here, pal, Let's get you into some clean bandages and dry clothes."
"Sorry, Jim, I had no idea it would be this hard just to use the facilities."
"It's okay, pal, you aren't heavy you're my brother, I don't mind," Artie just looked at him.
After Artie was seated on the bed Jim decided to check his bandages, much to Artie's chagrin. The shoulder and side wounds seemed to be healing nicely. The incision on Artie's chest seemed to be a bit red but Jim hoped it would continue to improve. He made Artemus lay back so he could check his leg, knowing this would be the wound that caused his friend the most pain. When Jim undid the bandage he grimaced. The wound was still oozing infection and the skin was bright red. Artie tried to lean forward to se but Jim held him back.
"It's all right, pal, you don't want to see anyway. I'm going to leave the bandage off this one for a while and see if maybe getting some air to it will help dry that up."
"Okay, whatever you say, Jim."
"Artie, are you sure you're okay? You are never this agreeable unless you're with a lady and last time I checked I was NO lady," They both chuckled.
"Truth time, James?"
"Truth time, Artemus."
I don't feel good at all. I feel like I want to lose my lunch and a little dizzy. I kind of feel like you look. What about you, Jim, you're looking a little green around the gills yourself."
"Now that you mention it I don't feel all that well." Just then Alex entered the room, breathless.
"Mr. West, we have a situation on our hands. One of the men found a guy pouring kerosene into the water supply. We got him locked up in the crew's quarters. You didn't drink any water today did you?"
"Damn, yes we both did. I made coffee and Artie had some broth."
"Well, here if you both take this you'll be okay by morning," he handed Jim a pitcher of clean water and two small packets of powder.
"Oh no, not more powders," Artie whined.
"Artie, you're whining. Besides, it's better than losing your lunch, which by the way you missed, and with your ribs you'd think that would be the last thing you'd want to be doing."
"You've got a point, James. Bring on the nasty tasting stuff."