Twenty Two

Excerpt from Ch 21 "

"Yes, sir," Peter took the reins Nick handed him and hurried down the street while Nick led his horse towards the sheriff's office; the sheriff walked alongside Nick though neither one said a word.

~oOo~

Nick and the deputy stepped out of the sheriff's office; Nick was determined more than ever to bring Macklin down. He might not have been only, while he was talking with the sheriff, a messenger from the telegraph office had barged in. The lanky, sandy haired fourteen-year-old boy reminded Nick a lot of Gene when Gene was that age. Not knowing if Gene would live or die due to the actions of the man who had worked with Macklin, made it so Nick was seeing a dozen shades of red. Turning towards the saloon, Nick and the lawman started walking towards the establishment.

"We saw Macklin enter the saloon not thirty minutes ago." The sheriff's words rang in Nick's ears. "But, I would appreciate it if my deputy could go along with you, even if you are wearing a badge." Nick didn't argue as, if Gene had just waited for back up, he might not be fighting for his life at the moment.

"He's not going to just up and admit he's crooked, probably say the papers are fake and say he's being framed." The deputy told Nick as they drew closer to the saloon.

Nick wanted to roll his eyes at the statement. There was no need for the lawman to tell him the obvious. "I don't expect him too." Nick said as he made sure his vest was secured shut; he didn't want Macklin to see the badge right away. "You said you often drop in at the saloon to check things out and talk to its owner. Why don't you go in there first and strike up a conversation with the bartender? I'll make sure this badge," Nick said pointing to the star on his chest, "isn't showing and then come in a few minutes later. He's going to be shocked to see me here as it is; there's no reason to tell him we're working together."

The deputy started grinning wide. He liked this man's way of thinking. "No problem," Mr. Long said as he started up the few steps that led to the saloon's brown swinging doors while Nick moved up onto the boardwalk, but stayed away from the window. If the idea was to surprise Macklin with his appearance, there was no reason to let himself be seen too early. Soon the deputy had disappeared into the saloon.

~oOo~

While Heath sat near the back door and Henry kept an eye on the front one, Jarrod stood at the side of the bed watching the doctor. The salt and peppered haired gentleman by the name of Bradley Thayer, who was pushing fifty, shook his head as he removed the bullet that had injured Gene and then began stitching him back up.

"How is he?" Jarrod, who had helped the doctor where he could, asked; the great concern he felt for Eugene could be seen in his worried eyes and anxious voice. The looks in Heath's and Henry's eyes were the exact same as Jarrod's, and silently asked the same question.

How was his patient? That was one question that the doctor wished he could give a positive answer to every time he was asked that question. As it was, he had learned over the years to never guarantee anything. Life was an expert at proving mankind wrong. "He's lost a lot of blood and the bullet actually nicked the spine; a part of it was still touching it. If it weren't for the years I spent as a surgeon in the San Francisco hospital, I never would have attempted to remove it." The doctor answered as he began putting away his instruments; he'd have to wash and sterilize them the moment he got back to his office. "Will he live? Did the bullet actually do any damage by nicking his spine?" Dr. Thayer shrugged his shoulders and looked at the three men in the room. Inwardly, the good doctor let out a long drawn out sigh. Times like this made him wish he could see the future only he couldn't; none one could. "I can't answer those questions. What I can tell you is he absolutely cannot be moved at the moment." He closed his bag and headed for the door. "I'll talk to the sheriff the moment I get back into town. He needs to know about this place."

"Thanks for everything." Jarrod said as the doctor opened the door. Then, due to the lateness of the hour, he added, "You could simply sleep on one of the cots. I mean, only one of us will be lying down at a time." Jarrod said as he looked at Heath and at Henry. Both nodded in agreement. There was no way either of them wanted to find another one of Macklin's men entering the shack without someone being prepared to take care of him.

The doctor hesitated, and then gave in. Since his wife had died two years ago, and his children all had homes of their own; it was not like he had to hurry home to ease anyone's minds. "Might not be a bad idea," Dr. Thayer answered. "But, since I'm staying, I might as well wash my instruments up right now."

"I can do that." Jarrod, who wanted the doctor well rested if they needed him again, said as he stepped away from the bed and held his hand out for the bag. "Go ahead and get some sleep."

Once again, the doctor hesitated before giving in and handing his black bag over to the eldest Barkley brother. "I must admit, I am tired. Thank you." He said as he headed for the second cot. Soon Jarrod was washing the doctor's tools while Dr. Thayer lay down. Henry said nothing as he kept his eye on the front door, and Heath did his best to keep an eye on the back door and his injured brother at the same time.