Death Has Its Price

Chapter 18 – Perchance to Dream

It was late when she woke and wondered why she'd slept so long. Usually, John came in with a cup of coffee for her but this morning he hadn't appeared. She dressed and made her way downstairs, stopping in the pantry for coffee and a quick 'good morning' with Cora. "Has John gotten up yet?" she asked the long-time housekeeper.

"Haven't seen him," Cora answered, and Amy walked down the hall to his room. The door was still closed so she knocked softly, and when she got no response she knocked louder. Still no answer, so she opened the door and went in. No John.

'Up early and out for a ride?' she wondered, so she slipped out the back door and headed for the barn. As suspected, Noble was gone, but something else caught her attention. John had a habit of early morning rides with Noble bareback, and the horse's saddle was missing. She tried to fight down rising panic as she ran back to his room. He'd been so odd yesterday, almost like he was saying . . . . . . .

She checked the closet, then the drawers in the dresser. Everything he owned was gone. And then she saw it – the piece of paper sitting on the dresser with her name on it. She was shaking so bad by the time she unfolded the letter that she could barely read it.

Dearest Amy – I've never written a goodbye letter before, so I'm not sure how I'll do. You know by now that I'm gone, and I'm not coming back. Please don't look for me, this is hard enough as it is.

With the first shots that were fired in Mountain City I knew I had to leave. What kind of a life would it be for either of us, with me always looking over my shoulder to see who was following us and you always waiting for the knock on the door that wasn't mine. Don't ever doubt my love for you, Amy, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone, and I can tell you that for a fact. Go ahead and hate me if you must, but please know that I will love you for the rest of my life, however long that is.

That's why I have to go; I couldn't bear it if something happened to you. In time this will all feel like a dream, and I'll be nothing more than a memory. I hope it's a good memory, something you can tell your grandchildren when it's time. Yes, you can say, I was once loved by the infamous Doc Holliday. With me he was kind, and gentle, and sweet, and he gave me all he had to give.

I hope you have a beautiful life, filled with love and laughter and lots of children. Remember me when you have your firstborn, and know that the freedom to have that child is the gift I gave you.

My heart will always belong to you, no matter where I am.

John

She screamed and dropped the letter, then dissolved into gut-wrenching sobs. Cora came running and enveloped Amy in her arms until Gage arrived, having stayed close this morning for just such a moment.

She wept for long minutes as Cora retrieved the letter from the floor and handed it to Amy's father. He read it silently and then folded it back up and tightened his grip on his little girl. "He didn't love me!" Amy wailed, and her father let her grieve for a few minutes more before beginning the 'comforting' process.

"Shhh, baby, shhh, yes he did love you. That's why he left, so you wouldn't get hurt by somebody tryin' to kill him. Believe me, he loved you." He held her and rocked her while she slowly cried herself out.

"Y-y-y-you knew, didn't you?" she choked out between hiccups.

Their entire relationship was built on mutual trust, and he wouldn't violate that trust now. "He told me."

"When?" All she could think of was how odd John seemed all day yesterday.

"The morning after the shootings."

"And you didn't tell me."

Gage chuckled softly. "John asked me not to." Then he got serious and tried to determine exactly how to ask her the question he hoped he knew the answer to. "Did you - I mean, did he – I mean, did the two of you – "

She shook her head. She knew exactly what he was asking, and why John had suggested the bottle of wine yesterday. "No, we didn't. We drank wine at lunch and both fell asleep. That's why he wanted me to bring it. You know how I am with your wine. One glass and I'm sleeping."

Gage exhaled slowly. Then he told his beloved daughter just what he'd told the man that loved her, two days ago. "I was wrong about him, Amy. I don't know what he was like before, and I don't know what he'll be like again, but the man that was here with us was a good man. A gentleman, from beginning to end. I've never been so happy to be wrong in my whole life."

Her father's declaration made her smile through her tears. "Yes, he was a good man. A good man who loved me."

XXXXXXXX

He found shelter about twenty miles south of Stanhope Ranch after riding all night. It was time to rest for both him and Noble, and this looked like as good a place as any. He was worn out from the battle raging in his head, with the 'You did the right thing' contingent on one side and the 'You're an idiot for leaving' voices on the other.

He removed the saddle and Noble tossed his head and whinnied, still trying to figure out just what was going on. Where were they going? Where was home? Why was he wearing that damn saddle?

"Sorry, old man, the saddle has to go with us. I know you don't like it, but for now we're both stuck. Let's get some sleep, huh?"

He made a bed in the shade of the palo verde trees, using the saddle as a pillow, and laid down to rest. He wasn't sure sleep was possible yet, but he hadn't sat that long in the saddle for quite a while and needed a break, whether sleep visited or stayed away.

He was exhausted, whether he knew it or not, and fell asleep quickly. He walked into the strangest dream, and had no idea who the people talked about in it were . . . . . .

He rested his arm on the back of the swing, behind Any's shoulders. After all this time together it still sent a chill up his spine to touch her, and he waited with eager anticipation for that moment. Rebecca and Gage played in the front yard, running and yelling and laughing as loud as any other four-year-olds. Gage threw a pretend stick at his twin and Rebecca threw it right back. No sissy girl was the older of the two; she was a tomboy through and through. "Stop it, Becca!" her mother yelled at her from the porch.

"Aw, let her alone," John responded to his wife. "Somebody has to keep her brother in line – it might as well be her."

"Honestly, John, I think you enjoy the fact that she's never going to grow up to be a lady." Amy was laughing as she said it.

There was a shriek from one of the twins and Gage ran for the porch, crying. "DADDY!" He ran into his father's arms and sobbed. "Becca hit me for real! Make her stop!" John held the little boy close to him while Amy beckoned their daughter over. "Rebecca Jean Holliday! You get over here right now."

Becca scurried over to the porch and laid her head in her mother's lap, right next to where the new baby was growing. She looked up with her mother's big amber eyes and smiled that charming Holliday smile. "I didn't hit him, momma. He's just a big baby, just like Uncle Bret."

John pulled his son away from his shoulder and looked in his eyes. "Is that true, Gage?"

The little boy cast his eyes downward and quietly whispered, "Yes, sir."

John sighed and held him close again, shaking his head all the while. "Why do you tell stories like that, son? Are you trying to get Becca in trouble?"

There was a mischievous gleam in Gage's eyes as he answered honestly, "Yes, daddy."

John laughed again. "Just like your Uncle, aren't you?" He held the wiggling four-year-old high in his arms and continued laughing. "What am I going to do with you?" he wondered out loud.

"Play cards with me, Daddy." The four-year-olds immediate answer.

"Me too," Becca demanded enthusiastically.

"You heard them," Amy offered. "Take them in and play. I'll finish supper."

"Alright, sweet thing," he answered his wife. He set Gage down on the ground and helped Amy to her feet. It wouldn't be long now before the baby was born. His Brother Bret and Lily, his wife, were coming to stay for a while and help with the twins when the newest member of the Holliday clan arrived. The twins ran into the house, ahead of their mother and father. From professional gunslinger to family man and rancher, who would have believed it? Certainly not him, he thought as he followed the love of his life and their almost three children inside . . . . . . .

He woke in a cold sweat, confused and disturbed. Uncle Bret? Who was that? And why would he dream about a brother he didn't have? The part about the twins he understood; in his heart of hearts he'd always wanted a family, even though he knew he should never have one. And Amy . . . . . what sweet thoughts of Amy. His wife, the mother of his children, his angel . . . . .

He'd slept most of the day; it was time to get up and ride again. He needed to get to Tucson, to go back to playing poker and take his mind off things he couldn't or wouldn't change. Noble was restless, sensing his owner's unease and waiting to get up and run somewhere. John built a fire and made coffee, then heated a can of beans and ate, only because his body required nourishment to keep going. The only thing that even began to entice his senses was thoughts of Amy, and those were going to do him no good at all. He drank two quick cups of coffee and poured the rest on the fire to douse it, then got up and repacked his saddlebags.

"You ready, Noble?" The horse whinnied in answer and then snorted his displeasure when John saddled him. The fire was out, the saddlebags were packed, horse and rider were ready to go. He took a quick look north and then forced himself to turn to the southern trail in front of him. Looking back would do no good at all, he needed to focus on the future and whatever lay ahead, rather than the past and the pain in his heart. Another night of riding would bring him that much closer to his new life. He sighed and urged Noble forward towards the southern star.