Death Has Its Price

Chapter 11 – Love Among the Ruins

It was impossible, and they both knew it, but that didn't stop them. Somehow, someway, over those long months of recovery and time spent together, they'd fallen in love. He never made a move, never even a sly glance her way, until the day she made him feel alive again by buying him clothes and helping him dress. They were hard pressed to stay away from each other after that, and just missed being caught by her father on more than one occasion. He knew they had to discuss the impossible situation they found themselves in, and waited until she'd followed him outside one afternoon and joined him sitting on the porch. Gage was out rounding up strays, and the only one at the ranch beside John and Amy was Cora, the housekeeper.

John had finally traded in the crutch for a cane, and something about the way he held it and used it to walk was familiar. He still wore the sling but had started taking his arm out of it for longer and longer periods, regaining the use slowly after breaking both bones in that arm. He'd started playing poker with Amy and the boys on Friday night and learning to use the arm again was tedious but necessary.

She sat next to him on the porch and watched as he stretched his long legs out their full length. He seemed to be coughing less, she noticed, and had put on a few pounds, though he still qualified as bone thin. Maybe the dry Arizona air was good for him, after all.

His disposition had certainly improved once he was able to get out of bed. When Amy wasn't around or was busy with something else, he'd made friends with most of the ranch hands. Despite his reputation as a hard-nosed killer, everyone seemed to like him and enjoy his company. He was thoughtful and polite, trying to help out whenever he could. Even Gage had fallen under his spell and was charmed by him. At least, as long as he didn't know what was happening between his daughter and the 'reformed' gunman. Thus the long-time-in-coming talk on the porch this afternoon.

"What are we gonna do about this?" John asked, to begin with.

"Continue to enjoy it?" Amy answered.

"You know what I mean, and why I'm asking."

"Why do we have to do something about it?"

He looked over at her, sitting in the chair next to him. God, she was beautiful. Especially when the sun shone on her hair the way it was right now. He couldn't remember another woman in his life as pretty as she was. Maybe that had something to do with having no memory of any other women, maybe not. "Because I'm a man, and you're a woman, and one of these days a few stolen kisses here and there isn't gonna be enough for either one of us. Remember when you asked me about . . . . . fancy ladies, and I told you I didn't?"

"Yes."

"That didn't mean I didn't want to. I just didn't. I'm human, Amy, and sometimes it's sheer torture to hold you and not go any further. What do we do then?"

Amy blushed but answered. "Then we do what we want to do."

He sat silent for long minutes. "I can't marry you."

"I didn't ask you to marry me."

"What kind of life would that be, married to a man who was either gonna die from consumption or in some back alley from a gunslinger's bullet?"

"I didn't bring up the word marriage."

"You're not a fancy lady, Amy, you deserve to be married to someone who loves you."

"I have someone who loves me."

She had an answer for every point he brought up. "But not someone who can marry you."

"I could have gotten married a long time ago, John. I chose not to. I have no problem keeping it that way."

"That's not fair to you."

This arguing with the man who was supposed to be amoral was getting her nowhere. Time to put an end to the discussion. "That's the way I want it."

"Amy - "

"No, John. I want what I want, and what I want is you. This is no one's business but ours."

Before they could go any further Doc Greeley came driving his buggy down the road to the ranch. He pulled up right in front of the porch. "Amy, John. Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"That it is, Doctor. What brings you down this way?"

Amy sat and watched the interplay between the two men. Doc Greeley, who'd been so skeptical of the gunfighter. And Doc Holliday, who'd made it a lifelong commitment to trust no man.

The older man climbed down from the buggy. "I came to have a look at your arm, John. I think it might be time we got rid of the sling for good. Let's go inside so I can see what I'm doin.'"

John stood up and walked into the house with the doctor. Amy was slow to follow. She sat by herself for a few minutes, wondering why it was that men always thought they knew what was best for you. She didn't need someone to protect her, she needed someone to love her. And that someone was John Henry Holliday. She finally got up and went inside, just in time to hear Doc Greeley tell John he was indeed done with the sling.

"I believe you're as close to healed as you're gonna get for a while, John. You need to use that arm, to get some strength back. Funny as this sounds, try target practice. Do something to exercise that arm. Over and over again. Or roping calves. You can rope calves, can't you?"

John laughed and watched her as she walked inside. "I don't know, Doc. I haven't tried it in this life. I suppose we'll find out. Anything else?"

Amy crossed the room to the pantry, to retrieve the coffee pot. John watched every step she took, and Doc Greeley watched John watch her. 'Oh dear,' thought the older man, 'he's in love with her. I was afraid this would happen.'

Amy came back out with cups and the pot. She poured coffee for all three of them, then set the pot down and took a chair. She looked up at John and smiled, and it was written all over her face. She was in love with him, too.

"What are you two gonna do about this?"

"About what, Doc?" Amy asked innocently.

"About being in love?"

XXXXXXXX

Bret packed his bag and sent a telegram to Beau in Silver Creek.

On my way

Hang on, love to Georgia

Cousin Bret

He caught the stage at ten the next morning after extracting another promise from Doc to keep searching for Bart. He wasn't happy about temporarily delaying the hunt for his brother, but he knew how stretched thin Beau was and that Bret was needed to hold things together. And he was comforted by the thought that Bart would want him to be in Montana to support Beau, Georgia, and Jody in any way he could.

Why did he still have the persistent feeling that Bart was alive? Everything he'd found or seen or heard pointed in the direction of a different conclusion. But if Bart was truly gone why hadn't his body been found? And who or what was taken off the mountain the day of the rockslide? Those were the questions that kept Bret Maverick's hope alive, months after it should have died. So he would go 'home' to Montana, to do anything he could to help his cousin and the rest of the family. And he hoped that wherever his brother was, he'd wait for Bret to find him.