CHAPTER SEVEN

OFT GO ASTRAY

FRIDAY LATER

Even though Nick wanted to argue with the sheriff, Heath swung around and faced him. "Don't need you in jail too, so just shut up!"

Nick did.

They waited for the sheriff to put Eugene in a cell and then came back. He took out a form. "What's his name?"

Nick and Heath gave him all the required information.

"What do we need to do to bail him out?" Heath asked.

The sheriff shook his head. "Nothing for twenty-four hours."

"No!" Nick said. "We're in the middle of a drive. We need him back there tonight!"

The sheriff met Nick's eyes. "He's not going anywhere for twenty-four hours."

Nick rubbed his throbbing jaw.

"What do we need to do to get him out tomorrow?" Heath asked.

"First, the bartender will need to submit a bill for damage. You'll have to pay that. Then we'll have to see if anyone wants to file assault charges. If so, he won't be going anywhere. If not, then you'll have to pay a twenty-two dollar fine."

"Anything we can do to hurry that along?" Heath asked.

The sheriff shook his head. "Nope."

"Can we see him?"

"Not until tomorrow."

Heath struggled to keep his frustration down. "I just wanna make sure he's okay. That gorilla knocked him out."

"Looks and smells to me like he passed out from drinking," the sheriff said.

"Can we get a doctor to check on him?" Heath asked.

The sheriff shrugged. "If you want to do that and if you can get a doctor to go along with it, I don't have a problem with that."

Heath released his breath. "Okay. Thanks." He slapped Nick's chest. "C'mon. Let's go." He went out the door.

Nick followed him. "What worries me is that this is Friday. Which means the jail will be filling up with drunks as the day goes on. And when they run out of cells, they'll start doubling 'em up—or tripling." He looked at Heath. "Eugene's just a kid. He can't protect himself from some of the big drunken brutes they might throw in there with him."

Heath nodded.

"We got to get him out of there!"

Heath stopped walking and looked at him. "Are you proposing a jail break?"

"No! But we hafta do something!"

"We are." Heath started walking again.

"Where're we going?"

"We're gonna telegraph Jarrod and see if he can come and get Eugene out of there sooner. And, since we're gonna be tied up tomorrow, maybe he can take charge of Eugene for us then. He's in Stockton, right?"

Nick nodded. "Far as I know."

"It shouldn't take long for him to get here, depending on the train schedule."

"Good thinking."

"Then," Heath continued, "we're gonna find a doctor to make a house call."

"You mean a jail call."

"Yeah. That too." Heath looked around. "Have you seen any telegraph offices?"

"Probably one near the train depot," Nick suggested.

"Oh. Yeah." Heath walked quickly towards the train depot. About halfway there, he looked at Nick. "We probably should've gotten the horses and ridden. Saved some time."

Nick nodded. "Want me to go get 'em and meet you there?"

Heath considered. "Yeah. Just don't get distracted. Come straight to the train depot."

"I will." Nick turned and strode back from where they'd come. At least he'd sobered up.

Heath finally made it to the telegraph office and sent a message to Jarrod, marking it personal and private, and paying extra to have it delivered immediately. Then he stopped in the depot and checked the train schedule. The next train would be leaving Stockton in just under three hours and would arrive before eight. So, Heath went back to the telegraph office and sent another telegram to Jarrod telling him that if he got on the train, to come to the railroad livestock holding area after he'd checked on Eugene.

By the time Heath stepped outside, Nick was waiting with the horses. "I didn't realize Eugene was drinking that much," he said.

"He was."

"I'm sorry I didn't keep a closer eye on him, but, dammit, he should be able to control himself."

Heath looked Nick straight in the eye—and made sure Nick noticed—but didn't say a word.

Nick shrugged. "I'm sober now."

"Yep. And what're you gonna tell the men about Eugene?"

"I ain't telling 'em nuttin'."

"And you know you have a black eye and a good bruise on your chin, right?"

Nick nodded. "Yep. I'm well aware of that. Well aware."

"And how are you gonna explain that?"

"I'm not."

Heath again gave Nick a long look.

Nick shrugged. "Let someone ask. I can stare 'em down better'n you can stare me down."

Heath couldn't help but smile. Nick did have an intimidating stare. "If anyone asks me, I'll just tell 'em to ask you."

"You do that."

"We'll have to check back in a bit to see if Jarrod replies," Heath said. "Let's see if we can find a doctor. Maybe we can get one to say he needs to stay at the doctor's office."

"That might work. Anything to get that kid out of there." Nick mounted his horse. "I'd say to try to find one near the jail."

Heath nodded, and they rode the mile or so back to that end of town. They found a doctor's office near the jail, but the doctor wasn't in. So, they continued looking, finally finding one just a couple of blocks away. The doctor agreed to go if he was paid cash in advance. Nick, who held all of the money he'd won from Gene, paid the fee, and hinted that they'd be happy to pay a large fee if the doctor determined that Eugene needed to be under doctor's care.

The doctor just scowled at him.

Sighing, they followed the doctor back to the jail.

When they got to there, Heath kindly asked the sheriff if he could go with the doctor to Eugene's cell.

The sheriff looked at him. "One of you can. Not both."

"I'll go," Nick said.

Heath raised an eyebrow, but he wasn't going to argue with Nick and have the sheriff change his mind. He just hoped Nick didn't do anything to make matters worse.

Eugene was awake when Nick and Dr. Duvalt arrived in his cell. The doctor examined him. "I don't see any signs of a concussion," he said, "and by the fumes coming out of him, I'd assume if he'd lost consciousness, it was due to overindulgence."

"You don't think he should be under medical supervision?" Nick asked.

"No. He has a good bruise there on his face, but it doesn't appear any bones are broken. He just needs to sleep it off."

"It's Friday night," Nick said. "These cells will fill up and double up. He's just a kid. He doesn't belong in here with those ruffians."

"There's nothing I can do about that. Physically, he'll be fine."

"I hope," Nick said quietly.

"Sorry." Eugene rubbed his head and his jaw. Both ached miserably—on top of his saddle sores that would probably never go away. He just wanted to go to sleep and forget about this day. About this week. He belched—and knew he'd be sick.

"Here." Nick thrust a pan in front of him.

As he vomited, Nick rubbed his shoulders. "You're okay," he kept repeating.

When he finished, Nick gave him a bandana rinsed in cold water.

"Thanks," Gene said.

The sheriff opened the door. "Time to go, Mr. Barkley."

"Can you get me out of here?" Gene asked.

"Nope," Nick answered. "And you're still in trouble with me. You and me will have a discussion about this later."

Gene sighed. Why did he think his brothers would respect him if he got drunk and in a bar fight?

He heard the door slam behind him. His stomach churned again and he grabbed for the pot.

XXXXX

Nick and Heath had a quick meal and then stopped at the telegraph office. A telegram from Jarrod was waiting: "Be there 8p."

"That's one worry off our minds," Heath said.

Nick nodded. "I hope Jarrod can get that kid out of there before that place fills up."

"I doubt it will fill up that early," Heath said. "The bars don't get too wild until after nine. Hopefully, Jarrod will have him out of there by then.

They headed to the holding area. A few of the drovers were back and playing poker.

"Where's your little brother?" Murphy asked.

"Who wants to know?" Nick answered.

Murphy looked away and went back to his game.

Nick sighed. At least Sacramento was large enough that it was possible no one saw them going to the jail.

By the time eight o'clock came, all the drovers—except for Eugene, of course—were back. There wasn't much to do.

Heath had stopped to check on the herd before he arrived, so he was the last one in. "Herd's fine," he reported.

Nick leaned against a tree. "Quiet here without Eugene to pick on."

Heath grinned. "Yeah. Poor kid."

Nick sighed. "I'm not done with him yet. Boy needs to know he can't get by with getting drunk during workin' hours."

Heath stopped and looked at him. "What, exactly, are you planning on doing?"

"I'm gonna dish out a bit of frontier justice."

"Nick, no. Just make him muck out the stalls for a month or something."

Nick's dimples appeared. "I have a plan for that boy tomorrow," he said, "and it's not what you think."

Heath glared at his older brother.

"Relax. It's not that bad."

Heath sighed and laid out his bedroll. Nick had brought a couple of extra ones with the hope Jarrod and Eugene showed up, so Heath laid those out as well. "Figure we better get some sleep while we can."

Nick nodded. "At least that rain brought in some cooler temperatures."

"And a nice breeze. Good night."

"Good night, little brother."

XXXXX

Heath awoke suddenly. Horses. He heard horses. Near the camp. He drew his gun, then leaned over and shook Nick awake. "Horses," he whispered.

"Okay," Nick said and went back to sleep.

He started to shake Nick again, but the horses had stopped near the chuckwagon. Heath quietly crawled out of the bedroll and stepped into the woods. He stealthily walked toward the horses. It was dark, and the light from the campfire didn't help much. The most he could see were shadows. Two men.

He watched them as they walked toward the campfire. They had a familiar gait. Heath smiled and put his gun away. "Jarrod!" he whispered as loudly as he dared.

Jarrod turned.

"This way!" Heath whispered, taking Jarrod and Eugene through the woods. He'd rather not wake up the entire camp.

Once they made it to the far end of camp, Heath pointed out their bedrolls. "Everything go okay?" he whispered.

Jarrod nodded. "Had to sign my life away to get little brother out of jail, but at least I didn't have to offer any bribes."

Heath looked at the silent Eugene, who still smelled like a brewery. "Feeling better?"

"A little."

"I made him eat before we came out here," Jarrod said.

Heath silently hoped Gene would keep the food down. "We'll talk more in the morning," he said. "Thanks for coming, Jarrod."

"My pleasure."

XXXXX