Chapter Three
"Oh, Slim! No!" Her tears in a continual pour, Daisy pushed her cheek into the broadness of Slim's shoulder. "Jess can't be taken from us. Not now. Not when he's like this!"
"I argued all that I could offer to the doc, Daisy. He's adamant that this is what Jess needs."
"He needs to be here. Right here!"
"I know, Daisy, I know. But as a nurse, try to picture Jess as just another patient."
"That's impossible. Jess isn't another patient. He's family. He's Jess!"
"But as a patient, and in his condition, especially in his current condition, where would that patient belong?"
The knowledge made her quiver. Was Jess, her beloved Jess, really that severely injured? As Slim had slowly given her the list, Daisy mentally pictured each wound. The bullet hole in Jess' arm she easily dismissed, the throat and his muteness, while terrible, Daisy knew could be endured. But envisioning his chest, understanding the hand so much that those very places on her body began to throb—dear God Almighty! It was true. Jess really was that severely injured.
"Daisy?" Slim whispered against her hair. "Please, answer me."
Her sigh was her surrender. "In the hospital."
"Then that's where he's got to be," Slim said, squeezing Daisy even tighter to his frame. "That's where he will be."
"Oh, but can't I go with him?"
"Daisy, I wish we all could go along. I had to pay double for the tickets just to get the proper space for the two of us. I'm sorry, but it's just not possible."
"I knew already in my heart that it wasn't, Slim. But the mother in me had to ask. Besides, I know where my place is. I have to stay here with Mike."
Slim's eyes wandered toward the kitchen door. When he gently woke Daisy, he took her outside so that the breaking of the good woman's heart wouldn't reach the littlest set of ears. He would tell Mike the truth, but Slim knew the words would be delivered softer on his tongue than by Mike overhearing Daisy's sobs. Likely Slim's shirt would have another wet mark before he could button a new one in place. The way he felt, a couple of his own tears just might drip down to his front before the sun made its first peek in the east.
"Slim?"
"Hmm?"
"When does the train depart?"
Slim's eyes jumped to the sky to check the whereabouts of the sliver moon. Since it wasn't sitting high over the hills of home when he left Laramie, it would put the current hour somewhere between three and four. It also put the departing hour way too soon.
He sighed. "Seven-thirty."
"This morning?"
"Yes. It's the only one through town until Friday. I had to take it."
"Of course you did, Dear. Well, we best not dawdle then. I'll be dressed in a few minutes."
Slim's mouth grew into a gape as she walked toward the kitchen door. "What do you mean, Daisy?"
"I want to see him."
Slim caught her arm before her nightdress could swish over the threshold. "He'll be unconscious. Doc wants him out the entire journey."
"That doesn't matter. I want to see him. I must see him before he goes."
Slim didn't know why he returned his gaze to the sky when the determined look on Daisy's face was all that was necessary to make the decision. "All right. Better not take Mike, though. He might not be able to handle seeing Jess like he is. I'll go tell Mike what's going on the easiest way I can and then leave him with the Hallorans while you and I go on into town."
"Thank you, Slim. And Slim. If you don't have hope, there's no way Jess will have any either."
.:.
He had been hurt by so many truths in one night that Slim thought he would be numb to them. He was wrong. Slim had never even voiced his concerns about Jess' hand not holding a gun again, his voice not able to speak again. All he had done was repeat Doctor Sweeney's words to Daisy and left his personal feelings alone. She had seen right through him.
Did he have hope? An answer shouldn't have tarried, but it did. At any other time in their partnership, Slim would have confidently said that Jess would overcome whatever obstacle stood in his way. He would have snapped his fingers and professed, "Just like that." This was different. Another question nagged at Slim's soul, the shortest of them all. How?
Slim knew, but saying it aloud wouldn't come easy. He didn't even want the words to accumulate in his mind. They took up residence there anyway. These weren't merely the kind of wounds that left nothing more than a scar behind. This could be permanent. Maybe it already was.
Pulling the wagon to a stop in front of the doctor's office, the difficult question made a return. Did he have hope? Slim wanted to say that it was there, but the moment Jess was back in front of his eyes, pale and seemingly small in his utter stillness, the strand of hope was too thin to grasp in his hand. But that didn't mean it was altogether gone. At least one member of the Sherman household hadn't let go.
"Thank God, he's alive," said Daisy, rushing to Jess' side. "I know he's in a bad way, but oh, thank God, he's alive!"
"He is alive, at that, Mrs. Cooper." Doctor Sweeney nodded, stepping aside to let the woman have his position beside the bed.
"He is alive." But for what kind of life? Slim's echo might have held the notes of gratitude, but the other? Fortunately the louder chant inside of his mind didn't come out, otherwise Daisy might have needed to offer a scold, when she was really there to do nothing but hold. It was a jealous thought, even a selfish one, but Slim wished Daisy's arms were wrapped around him instead.
"Oh, Jess," Daisy said, cradling Jess' head into her shoulder. "My poor, poor Jess. How could anyone be so cruel to you?"
"There are all kinds of evil in this world," Slim said, hands balling into fists as he visualized Rip and his cohorts all over again. "Some much worse than others. And some will get worse than others, too."
"Revenge isn't in this place right now, Slim. There'll be a time for that. Right now, this is for Jess."
He nodded, watching Daisy's care, yet unable to forget the reason why she was there. Why Jess was lying motionless, why a train was set to carry him away. But while he gripped his hands even tighter, there was a louder emotion in the room. Daisy was right. Thoughts of vengeance couldn't help Jess, but the sharing of hearts could. Thank God Daisy had enough to give for the both of them. If Slim tried, likely all his tongue would produce was a bunch of sputtered nonsense.
"Jess, Dear." Daisy's fingers fluttered around the gouge in his cheek. "You'll get better. All of these marks will just be a memory someday. You'll see."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Cooper. Even though he hasn't awakened at all, I already gave him a full dose of medicine to keep him unconscious for boarding the train. He can't hear you."
"We don't really know that. The human mind is so complex that it's possible it can absorb our feelings, even our words. But if all Jess knows is silent darkness, I'd like to feel that he can hear me anyway."
"It is true that love has no boundaries," Doctor Sweeney said, offering a smile. "And you certainly are sharing that with him."
"I couldn't do anything but, Doctor. How much time do we have, Slim?"
"Ten minutes. Mort's bringing some men to help carry him over. When he knocks, we have to go."
"Ten minutes," she said softly, turning her moist eyes back to Jess' pale skin. "It's kind of hard to fit such an important goodbye into such a short amount of time. At least I know it won't be forever. You will be back, Jess. And you know I'll be right here waiting for you."
Slim stared hard at Jess' face, yearning for even the tiniest flicker of response. Of course he heard what the doc had said. Jess was under the powerful influence of medicine, he wouldn't waken. Yet if there was any hope at all in Slim's core, it was in Jess' ability to brush away the darkest curtain, to part the black sea and give those around him a glimmer of blue.
Through every one of Daisy's murmurs, Slim watched the still lashes. He inwardly begged them to flutter and rise and in doing so, prove that he didn't need to be carted to the train depot, didn't need to spend two weeks or longer in the hospital, didn't need to do anything but come home.
But while Daisy's words tugged and twisted at Slim's heart, they didn't open Jess' eyes. He didn't waken. He didn't even flinch.
The knock on the door sending a chill down his spine, Slim turned toward the slight crack. "Come on in, Mort. We're ready."
"Well, maybe not all of us are ready," Daisy said, trying to smile. "So let me have one more minute."
"Go ahead, Daisy."
"If anyone can win this fight, Jess. It's you. You have my faith, my hope, and all my love." Her lips brushed his cheek, as did a single tear. "Come home soon, Dear. The house will be so empty with you gone. Goodbye, Jess. Goodbye."
The moment she stepped backward, Jess' bed was surrounded by six men. The sight jolted Slim's body almost as severely as watching Rip drop a bullet into Jess' chest. There was no coffin. Slim repeated the fact inside of his brain. There was no coffin. And yet, the group of Laramie men with Mort at the head looked so much like a funeral procession as they carried Jess out of the doctor's office that Slim had to look away lest his eyes turn to rivers.
Jess was alive! His inner being screamed, but coming just as loudly, the same fear as before, Slim couldn't stop what followed. But for what kind of life?
He couldn't answer. No one could answer. The only reply was the shrill whistle splitting the morning air. It did more than that. It split more than one heart in half. It was time to leave.
The train now sounding its final warning, Slim pressed against the outside rail of the second to last baggage car and reached for Daisy's hand. "I don't know when I'll be back, Daisy."
"I know. Take care of yourself. Take care of Jess."
"You know I will." His lips coming close, the peck against her cheek was like the one she had given Jess, touched by tears. "Goodbye, Daisy."
The wheels underneath him starting to roll among a cloud of steam, Slim pulled away. Daisy was crying. The constant cacophony that the train produced silenced her sobs, but Slim didn't need to hear her tears. He knew. Her shoulders lifted then fell, her mouth quivered, her eyes, not wanting to close longer than a necessary blink, glittered in the morning light. And her cheeks! Slim could literally watch the steady dripping of Daisy's grief.
The seizure of pain an unbearable hit, Slim almost leapt from his position to race the locomotive down, forcing the engineer to stop. They didn't have to do this, did they? Surely Jess didn't need to be sent so far away. They could take care of him right here, at home where Jess belonged.
But Slim didn't leap from the baggage car's railing and onto the moving ground. Because no matter how much of an argument he made, Slim knew the truth. As Daisy's wave was disappearing with the bend in the tracks, Slim stepped into the rattling contraption that would take them to a hospital, the place where Jess might not have belonged, but really needed to be.
The sight made Slim's boots slide to a halt, and this time the sudden stillness wasn't because of how pitiful Jess' appearance was. The train car barely had room for the two of them. It looked as if someone hurriedly restacked the corner when the telegram reached the last stop, and didn't care that it wasn't performed as the best of jobs. From floor to ceiling, they were surrounded by freight. Not even a chair was left as Slim's seat. It appeared that the only considerate offering from the railroad was a lantern. Since baggage cars were built without any windows, the little flicker at their side was a necessity.
"But a chair isn't?"
Slim tried to stifle his sigh. At least they weren't riding in a cattle car. The way the menace at the train depot had smirked at him, when Slim made the train's approach, he half expected to be escorted to the middle of the line where flies danced with dizzying abandon over the three dung-splattered cattle cars.
Slim looked down at his shirt. Maybe some of the little buzzers would be attracted to him too. He hadn't remembered to change. His brown shirt was still speckled with Jess' blood from where he carried Jess to Doctor Sweeney's office. It wasn't even tucked in all the way around. Any other time that Slim would be riding the rails he would have a ruffled shirt on underneath his best vest with a dark blue jacket and matching pants. While he did stuff the loose tail back underneath his belt, the rest didn't matter. All that mattered was Jess.
Pulling a trunk free, Slim scooted it beside Jess and sat on its curved top. Not much for comfort, not even much for his seventy-five dollars. But at least they were on their way, at least Jess was on the right path to recovery.
"You'll get better, Jess."
Daisy had said it first. It sounded more confident, more easily delivered through Daisy's soft lips. On Slim's mouth, he could detect the underlying tone of doubt. Maybe if he repeated it enough, then it would be backed with belief. But Slim wouldn't say it again, not until Jess could hear it for himself. At least not while gyrating to whatever song the train was playing.
The hours crept by. In reality, it could have only been minutes, as the day was stuck in eternal stillness. Slim only became aware of the later hour when the train's whistle performed its slowdown wail. Pushing the door open a couple of notches to see what town was printed on its depot, Slim's eyes widened at the position of the sun. He should have given Jess another dose of laudanum an hour ago.
Bottle and spoon coming out of Slim's vest pocket, he poured until the spoon was full. Another loud whistle, followed by a longer squeal made Slim turn toward the train's front. Were they really ready to roll? He had learned the routine quickly that if there were no passengers boarding or leaving, the wheels began their squeak and puff within a short span. This stop must have been that very kind. He had to hurry or a spill would be inevitable.
Returning his bend over Jess' frame, Slim put the spoon to Jess' mouth. He hated this part, forcing the medicine through Jess' mouth. His thumb brushing Jess' lower lip down, his forefinger tugged at the top. Just as he lowered the spoon, the train's heavy lurch sent the laudanum dribbling over Jess' lips. Had any gone through the slight part? There must have been some, otherwise the blanket that covered him would have a larger stain. But was the amount enough? Doctor Sweeney being strict on the proper dosage, Slim wouldn't give it twice.
Slim patted his partner's shoulder. "Just keep sleeping, Jess."
He yawned. It must have been the word causing the reaction. Slim certainly didn't feel sleepy. What with the constant clickity-clack underneath him driving him crazy, it would have to numb his skull hard enough that he could fall asleep. Surprisingly, that was exactly what happened. His folded hand a support for his chin, Slim's eyes fluttered lower and lower, until there was nothing but a sliver of light that was quick to fall into darkness. But there was another set of lashes that fluttered higher and higher until there wasn't solid darkness, but a sliver of light.
He wished it was pain that had jolted him out of the land of stupor, and while it did come, gripping his body with such severity that the pain alone could have tossed him back under the black line, it was fear. The alarm shooting through his veins was also what kept him awake.
Where was he? The thick shadows showed Jess nothing. The clanking rattle should have been the tell-all, but whatever it was couldn't penetrate through the strange layer surrounding his brain.
Was he alone? Trying to shift his frame proving futile, Jess parted his lips to call out. He was met with silence and with the kind of pain in his throat that it should have pulled a tortured scream from his tongue. Even that was silent.
Eyes beginning to frantically roam, Jess' head began to roll with the fierce back and forth dart of his vision. He wasn't alone. Seeing an outline of a hat bobbing low, Jess moved his chin far enough to view the face underneath the brim.
Slim!
The natural response to reach out with his right hand, Jess bit back the cry of pain. The hard locking of his jaw wasn't necessary. Not even a gasp could escape his lips.
Dadgum! What's wrong with me?
Testing his left side, the hand pulled away from the blanket that covered him. Unable to stretch his fingers far enough to flop Slim's hat to the floor, Jess grabbed the edge of the blanket and flicked it in Slim's direction. The first attempt was a miss, but Jess held the kind of character that never became discouraged by one try.
Every bounce of the train waking him, Slim would pull a deeper draft into his lungs and fling open his eyelids, only to drop them another second later to dip under the line of slumber again. Up and down Slim went, sniffing away a snore only to waken and rub away the tickle of his nose. It was black and then it wasn't. Again he snorted, again he felt the twitch. During the next bout of wakefulness, Slim swatted at his face. That tickle was certainly persistent. He hoped there wasn't a cold coming on. But then as a yawn began to split his mouth apart, the cause of the tickle landed in his mouth.
Startling awake, Slim spit the edge of a blanket from his tongue. "Jess!"
Head away from the pillow to fully stare at Slim, Jess' mouth parted. It was pain's obvious expression, one that Slim had seen countless times before marring his partner's face. Each of those times Jess had sucked in the torture, releasing a grunt, a groan, or a perfectly exclaimed "Dadgum."
Right now Jess couldn't even properly gasp, and the fear that went with the silence made the look on Jess' face so severely etched with pain that Slim wanted to block out the agonizing view by slamming his eyelids shut. But he couldn't. Jess needed him. Jess needed him right now.
His partner struggling to rise, Slim placed both hands on Jess' shoulders to ease his frame back down. "Lie still, Jess."
Jess opened his mouth, testing, searching, coming up empty. Why was he in so much pain? Slim?
"No, Jess. Don't try to speak. I'm sorry, I was supposed to give you the whole spoonful of laudanum, but I must've missed."
Laudanum? What for?
The way his body was rebelling should have been description enough, but it wasn't. Jess needed a solid answer. He wanted the truth. Seeing Slim's hand disappear into his pocket, Jess narrowed his gaze when Slim fumbled with the cap and grabbed the spoon.
No! Jess silently shouted, blocking the bottle with his left hand. Don't give it to me.
"Jess, I'm sorry, but I'm under Doctor Sweeney's orders."
Forget the doc's orders. What about what I've gotta say? Except it was becoming increasingly clear that Jess couldn't say his part. Couldn't he speak at all? Slim, what's wrong with me?
Jess must have been the most difficult man to read. Maybe just this once, Slim could say it was easy. Jess was terrified. Slim's fingers released their tight grip into his shoulder to give his partner a soothing rub.
"Jess. You've been hurt really bad. Doc wants you in a hospital, so that's where we're going."
A hospital? Dadgummit, I ain't going to no hospital!
The jerk of his frame adding to the all over assault, Jess' eyes darted away from Slim's face to what must have been a ceiling. The constant sway told him they were moving. But it was more than that. They were rolling, something was clacking, persistently clacking, and every second of that noise throbbed inside of his head.
Where are we anyway? What is that irritating sound? A long, high whistle was his answer. A train? Dadgum, I'm on a train! Slim!
Slim eased the panicked frame back down to its cushion. "It's all right, Jess. We're on our way to Denver. Rail was the only safe way to get you there without hurting you even more."
Hurt. Yeah. I can tell I'm hurt, but I wanna know how bad. I can't talk, Slim. Why? And why can't I move my hand? Dadgum, it ain't just my hand but my entire right arm feels like it's made outta lead. Ain't you gonna tell me why? All right, I know, know, you can't read what's going on inside my head. Lemme try to remember on my own. There was a fight. Dadgum, I remember that, even if I don't remember who was on the other side of it. Was I shot? I've definitely had enough bullet holes to know what they feel like. My chest has that kinda ache, all right. My upper arm, too. But what about my hand? What's wrong with my hand? Slim! What's wrong with my hand?
"Jess."
Dadgum. It must be bad if you sound that low, Slim. You look like something's strangled you and I'm the one that don't gotta tongue anymore. How bad is it? Please, tell me how bad off I am.
"Jess, I'm sorry I have to do this. But you'll be better off not knowing."
What? You can't mean that! I gotta know! It's my body that's doing the suffering, not yours!
Slim held the spoon to Jess' mouth. "Let me give you the dose of laudanum, Jess."
Head shaking, Jess clamped his jaw at its tightest. Don't give it to me! I don't care how much it hurts, I wanna stay awake. I wanna understand.
"Open your mouth, Jess. Please don't make me force it again."
You're gonna have to force it!
Slim's fingers resting on Jess' chin, he lifted the stubborn rock up a notch. "Come on, Jess. I know it tastes bad, but it's not that terrible."
Can't you tell I don't want it? You're betraying me.
Slim sighed as the spoon retreated. "Jess, the look in your eyes is impossible to understand."
Well, it shouldn't be. My head's screaming loud enough. Dadgummit! You can't hear me at all and that's the problem. Slim, why can't I talk? Why can't I fight back? Slim!
"Come on, Jess. Take it as if Daisy were offering it. I know you'd swallow then."
I bet you I wouldn't. Daisy'd take my side anyway. Slim, stop!
"I have to, Jess."
The spoon inside of his mouth, he tried to spit the bitterness back out, but it went down. All the way down. Slim, don't do this to me.
"I'm sorry, Jess."
Sorry? I'd sorry your hide if I could just get outta this blamed bed. Tell me what's wrong!
"Jess."
No, don't put on the soft soap, don't try to hide it. Tell me straight. I can take it. I'm taking the pain, ain't I?
But the pain was starting to numb. While the sharp stabs were being replaced with a duller throb, there was still a strong sense telling Jess that something had to be very wrong with him. His hand. The worse had to be about his hand.
Don't, Slim. Please. I gotta know. I gotta… I… Slim. But it was too late. The medicine taking full effect, Jess' lashes began to lower and once the drop was complete, Jess melted into the laudanum's warm embrace. Slim…
"I'm sorry, Pard," Slim said, his hand slow from pulling away from Jess' shoulder. "Rest easy now, Jess. This time, it'll take you all the way to the Denver station."
.:.
Slim had feared Jess' waking when the train made its final stop. The horn screaming for several long shots as it made its slow, chugging approach, Slim studied Jess' eyelashes until he was convinced they wouldn't rise. He continued to watch his partner's face during the wagon ride to the hospital.
Stepping into the brightly-lit front hall, Slim's eyes immediately fell on the nurse making her approach. "I'm Slim Sherman. My friend is Jess Harper. You're supposed to be expecting us."
"Oh yes, we've been waiting for you." Her hand rising, she gave a loud finger snap. "Orderlies! Exam room three."
"Yes'm," said one of the pair of white-clad men that took up the litter's top and bottom and then Jess was whisked away down a hall.
"Jess…" Slim started to follow, but then a hand pressed into his shirt.
"Nuh-uh."
He looked down at the nurse's cap and frowned. "You mean I can't go with him?"
"This is a hospital, Mr. Sherman," she answered, tapping his chest.
"I know."
"Then you should know that it's a place for sick people, not the healthy. And you definitely look healthy to me."
"Then I can't stay with him?"
Through her exaggeratedly long head shake, Slim looked at the woman. She must have been sixty, maybe half a dozen years more. The severe knot to her gray hair that sat just below her cap seemed to be pulling her wrinkles tighter, but Slim could count enough lines to know her years, and experience, must have been long. Strange that he couldn't respect that. But it wasn't strange it all. They had taken Jess from him, and since this cousin to a bat was keeping him from following, she had become an immediate enemy.
Ire roused, Slim hardened his stance. "Look, Ma'am, I want to go with my friend."
"Well, you can't. He's being examined by Doctor Ingram right now."
"I was with him when Doctor Sweeney operated on him. What could possibly be any different?"
"You're not in a small down doctor's office anymore, Mr. Sherman. You're in a hospital. And in case I need to point it out further, that is a major difference."
"But I want to be with him."
"You can visit him during the allotted hours, but there is no room for you in this hospital."
"But I…"
"You have been told what's what, Mr. Sherman. Repeating it would only be a waste of time for you and I. As it is, I should have already completed ten pages of paperwork while I've been dusting your shirt. When was the last time you changed it anyway?"
"But Ma'am…"
"The name's Nurse Mueller, not Ma'am. Got it?"
"Yes, Ma… I mean, Nurse Mueller. When can I see him?"
"After Doctor Ingram finishes his exam, Mr. Harper will be given a room. Then you can go in."
"What'll I do until then?"
She pointed to the row of chairs against the wall. "Wait."
"Wait?"
"Now that you get the picture, put yourself inside the frame. I've got to get back to my work."
With nothing else to do, Slim sat. And here Slim thought that torture only included bullet blasts and fist slaps. Waiting was its own kind of suffering. It was also growing worse by the minute, as the span had already reached the definition of being extremely long. First Slim studied the white ceiling, then the left wall, also white, then the corridor off to his right and finally the floor, the whitest of them all. It was during this long stare that Slim's lashes started going in the direction of his head. Through the quietness that defined hospitals as an eerie place, Slim's chin was able to land on his shoulder and he slept.
An untold amount of minutes later, a hand pushed against the slouched shoulder. "Excuse me, are you Mr. Sherman?"
Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Slim saw a younger, nicer version of Nurse Mueller and smiled. "Yes?"
"You need to sign some papers, Mr. Sherman."
Taking the offered stack, Slim ran his eyes down the petite figure. "And what's your name?"
"I'm Nurse Patterson, with administration."
"Oh, I see. Nurse Mueller doesn't do everything then."
The peachy-pink lips twitched. "Almost, Mr. Sherman, but not everything."
"Good to hear. So what do I need to sign?"
"Since Mr. Harper can't sign them on his own, you'll have to do it for him. If you'll read through all of the pages, you'll find the line at the bottom of every sheet that you'll need to sign."
Quickly reading through the list, Slim's finger paused on a number, a particularly large number. "What does this mean?"
Her eyes narrowed to the line. "Oh. That's an estimate of how much Mr. Harper's care will cost."
A trickle of sweat wandered down Slim's cheek. Another dribble was coursing down his spine. Were there really three zeroes? Somehow he was able to make his dry tongue work. "And this one?"
"Oh. That's an estimate of how long Mr. Harper will be in our care."
Four weeks. No wonder there were three zeroes. The sweat droplets forgotten, Slim shook with a sudden chill, a frightening freeze.
Four weeks could cost him a thousand dollars. The first part didn't surprise him. Doctor Sweeney warned that Jess' stay could stretch out that long. It was the latter number that put a spear through Slim's heart. While there had been plenty of time to sort out his immediate future, Slim hadn't thought much on what he would do while Jess was in the hospital. Now it was quite clear. Nurse Mueller loudly pointed out that Slim couldn't stay at the hospital, but the sheet of paper had an even louder voice. Slim couldn't even stay in Denver. With the amount of cash needed to cover Jess' bill, Slim would need to return home to build it.
He swallowed hard, but even if he'd had a bottle of whiskey to go along with it, Slim would never be able to get the sorrowful lump down. He had to leave Jess in the hospital. Alone.
"Mr. Sherman?"
The feminine prompt working through the torment of his mind, Slim signed his name everywhere instructed and then let the papers, ink and its well fall back into Nurse Patterson's hands. When her soft step was gone, Slim tried to ease his head into the wall but the solid structure couldn't hold him. Nothing could hold down his rapidly running emotions. It was a wonder that when Slim stood up, his legs didn't follow the same pattern. Instead he walked, up and down the hallways, back and forth in each corridor, until he met an angry woodpecker, dressed in solid white.
It was Nurse Mueller's toe tapping, not her beak, yet it still felt as if every thrum against the floor was a solid kick, or maybe it really was a peck, into Slim's skull. "I told you to sit and wait."
"Yeah, well I needed to pace."
"Hospital corridors are not for anyone outside of the profession. What if there was need for a doctor to quickly get to his patient and a wanderer was in his way?"
"I'm sorry, Nurse Mueller. Did you need me to sign something else or was I just breaking too many rules?"
Her hard mouth grew even harder. "You can see Mr. Harper now."
Relief flooded away the bitterness from his soul. "Great! Where is he?"
"Room Ninety. Far end of the south wing."
"Thanks."
"Wait."
Slim's boots skidded against the shiny floor. "What now?"
"Five minutes, Mr. Sherman," she said, splaying her hand wide.
"That's all?"
Nurse Mueller nodded. "That's all. Mr. Harper's a sick man. He doesn't need to fill his day with broody companions."
"But a moody nurse is all right?"
"Four minutes now, Mr. Sherman."
He turned away without an added retort and then slowly opened the door to room ninety. Wanting every part of his body to enter as silently as possible, Slim held his breath as he stepped into the room. It almost rushed back out in the form of a whistle. And he thought the waiting room was bad. This was well beyond the word.
Everything around him was white. The walls, the floor, the linens, the window curtain, everything was white. Painfully white. And there Jess lay in the middle of that single-toned room, his cheeks a perfect match to what surrounded him. His dark hair against the pillowcase was the only color there. No. There was one more shade to see.
Jess' lashes fluttering wide, Slim met the blue with his own, praying that whatever was inside of his gaze showed something other than fear, other than his sorrow, other than the inevitable goodbye. "Hi, Pard. It's good to see you."
Jess parted his lips, but at the silence, he slowly closed his mouth. Good to see you, too. Where've you been?
"No, Jess," said Slim, putting his hand on Jess' shoulder as he leaned close. "You mustn't try to speak. Besides, there's really nothing on your end to say, anyway. You never could say that word."
Confusion turned Jess' brows into a knot. Was Slim really there for goodbye, when a second before, he had said hello? His left hand rose, searching for Slim's, yet when he felt the clasp, Jess still didn't understand what was on the other side of his partner's touch.
Slim?
He nodded, hoping that his answer was the right one. "I can't stay here, Pard. The hospital has rules. Sure, there's visiting hours, but they won't let me lay my bedroll on the floor. I'm going to have to go back home."
Home? You're leaving me here alone?
"Besides, I've got to put my back into bank. I'm not going to burden you with how much this is going to cost, but it's going to add up to more than what I brought along. It shouldn't be too hard, though. Right now I figure I'll round up the yearling steers for a quick sale. Sure they'd get more money in a month or two, but now's not all that wrong of time to sell them. Pa used to say as long as they're over five hundred pounds they'll fill a smokehouse with enough meat for a buyer to drool over. I'd imagine most of them beeves sit at six to seven, so they'll do all right. And then there's the offer Parson made to rebuild his revival hall. I doubt anyone's going to take him up on it, so the job should still be open for me to take. I know it won't pay much, but if Parson's good for anything, it's his word. He'll pay up when I finish, and then you know Parson, if he burns down this next meeting place, I could build another one and get paid double. Daisy can start selling eggs. Without you there to eat them, there should be enough for the store. And…"
Slim…
Feeling the tug on his hand, Slim grew quiet. He knew he had been babbling. While the list he had started in his head to get some quick money was important, in reality, it was merely a symptom of putting off the unavoidable finale. But when the unavoidable couldn't be put off, what else could he say? Slim knew. Goodbye.
Jess pulled again on Slim's hand. Slim?
He leaned toward the troubled brows. "What is it, Pard?"
Do you gotta go?
"I'm sorry, Jess. I sure wish I could read your mind."
That might get both of us in a lotta trouble.
"I'll try anyway. Yes, Jess. I have to go."
Dadgum. I reckon you ain't all that bad at this guessing game after all.
"After all, Daisy does need me at the ranch. I can't expect Mike to do the heavy work. Plus he has to go to school. So it's up to me. You understand?"
Yeah. I'd probably kick you straight on back to Laramie if I thought Daisy was gonna have a hard time without you there. So you might as well get before I make my foot sore by bruising your backend.
"This is harder than I thought it'd be."
Goodbyes ain't easy, Slim. Why do you think I never say them?
"Will you be all right, Jess?"
No, but I reckon complaining about it ain't gonna fix me up none.
"Then I guess I should be going. This time I'll head out on the next stagecoach north. I figure the Overland company might even wave the fee." If only the hospital would do the same. Slim held in his sigh and offered Jess a small smile. "Take it easy, Pard. So long."
Yeah. I know. You ain't even gonna get that outta me. Seems all my goodbyes are kinda permanent, so I reckon I won't even think it. But I shouldn't fear that, though. You will get me outta here sometime, won't you, Slim? Won't you, Slim?
"Goodbye, Jess."
Wait, Slim…
But he was gone. And at the closing of the door, Jess felt the coldest wave of loneliness he had ever felt pass through his body. He hated goodbyes, but this one, it carried such a foreboding weight that Jess couldn't help but wonder if the departure really was a permanent one.