[Gideon Johann 01.0] Last Stand

by Duane Boehm

  The doctor calmly reached for his shotgun behind the door and blasted Durango Dick into the street before the outlaw even realized what was happening.

  Walking out into the street and standing over the dead man, Doc had said, “You were right. I just treated you with your gun drawn.”

  After word spread of the incident, the doctor found he had gained a completely new respect from the rougher side of society. No one ever showed up at his place with a gun drawn again.

  Ethan greeted the doctor at the door and led the elderly man to the bedroom. Dr. Abram pulled the sheet back on the man and gave him a quick look. “That man has lost a lot of blood. He has no color,” he said.

  “I think it happened yesterday. It looked like he had been there for a while and some of the blood was already dry,” Ethan said.

  “Sarah, would you please get me some hot water? I will need to clean him up again after I get done examining his wounds,” the doctor said.

  Sarah went to heat the water and then started supper while Ethan and Benjamin played checkers at the table. Neither was really concentrating on their game, but it beat sitting and waiting. An occasional groan escaped the bedroom, causing the family to all exchange glances. As Sarah finished preparing the meal, the doctor shuffled out of the bedroom.

  “If there is anything lucky about getting shot all to hell, that cowboy is lucky that the bullets missed his organs and bones and exited clean. He has lost so much blood that I still do not expect him to live, and he could get an infection from going so long without treatment. I dosed the wounds with iodine and I’ll show you what to do” the doctor said.

  “We put an extra plate out for you, Doc. Join us for supper and then you can show Sarah,” Ethan said.

  “I may be old, but I know good food when I smell it,” Doc Abram said as he sat down at the table.

  “I’m much obliged that you came out here, Doc,” Ethan said.

  “You’re good people, but I don’t know why you didn’t just leave him where you found him and go get the sheriff. Maybe the scoundrel would have died by then and the world would be rid of one more heathen,” the doctor said.

  “Doc Abram, how could you say that? All of us have a duty to help those in need. Especially you a doctor,” Sarah admonished.

  “Sarah, I have never turned down a patient, unless you count Durango Dick, I guess. I am just saying that I think you should have handled it differently and not brought who knows what into your home. Over the years, I have patched up plenty like him only to do it again or watch them die.”

  Ethan interjected, “Doc, we do not know a thing about this man. I refuse to suppose the worst until I know differently. He could be a victim like any of us could be.”

  “I suppose, but I doubt it. I just don’t want you folks to be endangered for your good nature,” the doctor said before changing the subject to cattle.

  After the meal and showing Sarah how to treat the wounds, the doctor said his goodbyes and then paused at the door. “Ethan, do you want me to send the sheriff out in the morning to see if he has a poster on your cowboy? You might have some reward money due.”

  “No, we’ll see if he lives before we worry about that. I’ll pray that he does and it is for a higher purpose than going to jail or the gallows,” Ethan said.

  Chapter 2

  The next morning, Ethan awoke before dawn. He had tossed and turned all night, never going into a deep sleep, while managing only to fall into a slumber with wild dreams about the man dying and haunting the cabin. Preacher or not, he did not cherish the thought of waking up with a dead man in his home. He lit a lamp and then dawdled about before finally entering Benjamin’s bedroom. The man was motionless except for the slight movement of his chest with each breath. There did not appear to be any change in his appearance, but his breathing seemed less labored.

  Ethan went to make some coffee and almost tripped over Benjamin asleep on the pallet that they had made for him in the main room of the cabin. After the coffee was ready, he sat at the table, drinking it and watching the sky begin to lighten. Early morning was his favorite time of the day, allowing him to plan his activities before the family was up and demanding his attention. After it was light enough to see, he went out and busied himself with the chores.

  By the time he returned, Sarah was cooking breakfast. The aroma of bacon, eggs, and biscuits filled the room and made his mouth water to the accompaniment of his growling belly. His wife knew how to cook a fine meal. Sitting down at the table, he watched her flutter about and asked, “Have you checked on him?”

  “No, I was afraid he might be dead and I did not want to see that alone,” Sarah said.

  “He was alive when I went to do the chores. I think maybe he was breathing easier.”

  “After breakfast, we can see if he is conscious and treat his wounds.”

  Sarah continued her bee like breakfast preparation until she turned and caught Ethan staring at her backside. “You can forget about that this morning. Rouse Benjamin up, please.”

  Ethan smiled and got up to wake Benjamin, who was still exhausted from the big day he had experienced yesterday. Normally, Benjamin was an easy riser, but Ethan had to shake his son a couple of times and get him talking before being satisfied he was awake.

  Breakfast lacked its usual jovial mood. Except for Benjamin’s inquiry about the cowboy, there was little conversation and they unconsciously rushed their eating to the point that none of them enjoyed the food. Benjamin did not even bother to make his normal production out of bursting his egg yolks before sopping them up with a biscuit. The cowboy was weighing heavily on all their minds.

  After they finished the meal, Benjamin was sent to feed the chickens while Ethan and Sarah took a fresh pitcher of water and a biscuit with them to the room. Sunlight from the window bathed the cowboy, almost giving him the appearance of a peaceful resting guest and making a stark contrast to the condition that they had found him in the previous day.

  “His color is better. He actually looks more alive than dead this morning,” Sarah commented.

  At the sound of her voice, the man opened his eyes in a vacant stare, revealing a piercing blue color. Ethan, standing at the foot of the bed, reacted by pulling his head and shoulders back as if he were trying to avoid walking into a spider web. The hair on his arms and neck stood up and the goose bumps gave him a chill. For some reason the stranger’s face had given him a jolt of nostalgia. This was the first time that he had really bothered to notice the man’s features.

  “What is it?” Sarah asked.

  “I don’t know. When he opened his eyes it was like I almost recognized him,” Ethan said.

  “Surely you would know if you knew him.”

  “You would think, but those blue eyes and that unruly hair and that Greek nose. Like maybe I knew him a long …” Ethan stopped mid–sentence. Grabbing the sheet, he uncovered the man’s left leg and turned it to see his calf. It had a badly scarred indentation across it from an injury that had occurred years ago.

  “Oh, my God. It’s Gideon. When he was a teenager, a Longhorn turned on him, goring his leg, and killing the horse that he was riding. He limped for a year,” Ethan said before pausing to do a calculation in his head. “I guess it has been eighteen years since I last laid eyes upon him. I sure never thought that this day would happen.”

  Sarah had been hearing stories about Gideon Johann since Ethan and she had been dating. The two men had grown up best friends on neighboring ranches. Gideon had been the free–spirit leader in their mischievous escapades of youth. Ethan had told tales that had left her picturing a light–hearted and funny boy that was hard to reconcile with the unfortunate man lying in the bed. His mother had died when he was seventeen and the next year, in 1861, he and his father had joined the Second Colorado Infantry. Ethan had received letters regularly about his life as a soldier. Gideon had been particularly excited when the infantry had consolidated into the Second Colorado Cavalry. After that, he wrote a grieving letter abou
t his father’s death at the Battle of Little Blue River. Ethan had received one more letter after that and then never heard from him again. After so much time, the letters were still sitting neatly tied in the bottom of the blanket chest. Over the years, rumors of Gideon’s whereabouts would come in, but nobody from the area had ever actually seen or heard from him.

  Ethan had to sit down to take it all in. His body had gone limp on him. He kept staring at the face to keep convincing himself that it really was Gideon. “I just can’t fathom how after all this time, he ends up here like this. I wonder what brought him back and why he was shot,” he remarked.

  “Do you think he is an outlaw?” Sarah asked.

  “I don’t think so. All the rumors had him being a deputy, ranch hand, or gunman. I think we would have heard about it if he were wanted.”

  The bandages had only spots of blood on them when Sarah removed them. She checked the tissue and then poured the iodine into the wounds. There was no pus and the wounds did not look infected to her. With Ethan’s help, she was able to get some water down Gideon, but he never opened his eyes again.

  “I think I will try to get some milk down him later. He is going to have to have some nourishment before long,” Sarah said.

  Lost in thought, Ethan said, “I just can’t believe it. What are the odds our son finds a man barely alive that happens to be the best friend I ever had that has been missing for eighteen years?”

  “I’d say about the same as you deciding to start preaching a couple of years ago,” Sarah said.

  Ethan looked up blankly at her, missing her attempt at humor or any other messages that may have been buried in the statement. She smiled at him to try to get him to come out of his stupor.

  He thought for a moment more and then smiled back. “Yeah, you are right about that. I guess they are both mighty long odds. Maybe there is higher reason for all of this,” he said.

  Ethan had never been an overly religious man, but the family attended church every Sunday and he always listened to the sermon. Over time, he began to read the Bible in the evenings. One night he was reading the Gospel of Mark when passages 12:30 and 12:31, “And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment” and “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these”, spoke to him like nothing he had ever before read. He kept rereading the passages, deciding to become a student of the Bible.

  Eventually, their preacher moved away and the congregation asked Ethan to take his place. It had been shaky going at first, but over time, he had developed into an engaging speaker. His sermons were a far cry from the Hell and Brimstone deliveries of his predecessor, causing some to leave, but the church grew with his gentler message of love and goodness.

  Sometimes, he was conflicted over his Sunday sermons and the fact that out on the ranch, he always took precautions when a stranger showed up, fearful that they might be out to do the family harm. He could never come up with a resolution, knowing that carelessness would get a man killed.

  “Sarah, I am going to ride out and check the cattle. I need some time to think, and I planned to do it yesterday before all the excitement anyway,” Ethan said.

  “Take your time. I have things under control here, but before you go, light a fire under Benjamin or he is going to be late for school,” Sarah told him.

  Ethan walked out to the barn and saddled his favorite horse that he called Pie, a piebald gelding that he had traded for in town. It had once been an Indian pony and was larger than most. He had almost given up on ever getting it to accept a saddle, but with patience, he finally won over the horse. The animal was the surest footed he had ever owned and had the stamina to be ridden all day.

  He put Pie into a lope and headed for Pint Ridge. On the other side of the crest was Sweet Valley. In the spring months, the basin was the first place on his ranch to green up, and the cattle always stayed there until they ate it down and moved on to a new spot.

  The air was cool, but with the clear sky, the sun was already taking the edge off the chill. As he got into the rhythm of the horse’s movement, he started to relax and feel like himself again even if he still could not imagine anything that could have been more shocking than the turn of events that morning. He needed this ride to think and come to terms with things. His mind was still having trouble grasping that a man that years ago, he had given up on ever seeing again was lying in his house barely alive. In some ways, he wished it did not matter to him anymore, but the feeling of getting punched in the gut once he realized that the man was Gideon told him otherwise.

  Both of them had been the brother that the other never had. Gideon was an only child and Ethan had four sisters to drive him crazy. They had become friends when they were seven years old starting out in school. Over the course of their youth, they had been constant companions, always hunting, fishing, and helping out on both ranches.

  Ethan had been there the day the bull gored Gideon’s horse and his leg in the process. Gideon and he had been driving the herd to the other side of the ranch where the grass was better. They were going at a leisurely pace, riding close enough together to be able to carry on a conversation. The young bull was in front of Gideon when it planted its front legs and kicked its rear around before charging. It happened so quickly that there was not even time to shout. Ethan could still remember the pain and shock on Gideon’s face when it gored them. The bull stood there with its horn stuck in the horse’s side as the animal slowly sunk to the ground while Gideon managed to slide off before it pinned him. He was barely able to stand and helpless as the bull stomped its foot and freed its horn. Ethan had spurred his horse, locked arms with Gideon, and swung him on behind while on a dead run before the bull had time to attack. He thought Gideon was going to bleed to death that time too. His horse almost gave out carrying the two riders into town in a run. Gideon was badly hurt, but Dr. Abram managed to save his leg.

  They had never talked about that day. Gideon had said, “Thank you. You saved my life, partner.” After that, the subject never came up again.

  After Gideon started courting Abigail Schone a couple of years before he joined the war, Ethan found himself the odd man out a lot of the time. They still managed to hunt and fish together, but it was obvious that Gideon was head over hills in love. After Gideon volunteered for the infantry, Ethan tried to talk his father into letting him join also, but his pa would not hear of it, and being a loner, he continued to fish and hunt by himself, but the fun was all gone from it. Most of his time was spent looking at one end of a cow or the other. The letters helped some, though the things described in them left him anxious for Gideon’s safety. After the notes abruptly stopped, he actually mourned, fearing that Gideon had died. In time, he came to accept it as the death of a friendship.

  Now there were so many questions to be answered. Was he in trouble with the law? Why did he come back now after all this time? Where had he been all these years? On and on and on, but most of all – what happened and why did he not stay in touch?

  He reached the top of Pint Ridge and pulled Pie up to look into the valley. Below him, he could see his herd scattered about grazing on the new grass with several newborn calves nursing on their mommas. Spring was his favorite time of the year. The ranch renewed itself all green again and there were all the new calves to check.

  He put the horse into a walk headed towards the herd. The calves made him think about the spring that Benjamin had been born when he and Sarah got into a big fight over what to name him. He had wanted to name him Gideon. Sarah had been adamant that it was silly to name a child after someone that did not care enough about him to stay in touch all those years. Her words had stung, but he knew that she was right. They eventually decided to name him after Ethan’s father who had died the previous year.

  Riding through the herd, he counted seven new calves. They were the first this spring and all had been born sinc
e he had checked the herd three days ago. The births were a good start to the season and he did not see any cows that looked as if they had lost their calf.

  Once he was clear of the herd, he put Pie into a run and headed for home. The horse needed the exercise and he wanted to just focus on riding and not think anymore. He had to hold his hat down to keep it from flying off as they charged up the ridge. Sometimes from lack of necessity, he forgot how much Pie loved to run. It seemed as if they might take off in flight when they hit the peak and he let out a whoop of joy as they headed down the other side. Nothing had been resolved with his ride, but he felt better and ready to meet whatever was ahead.

  Ethan was surprised to see Doc Abram’s buggy in front of the cabin. He did not expect the doctor to check on the patient again so soon considering his low opinion of the situation.

  Doc was listening to Gideon’s chest with a stethoscope and Sarah was in the corner cutting up some new bandages when Ethan entered the room. He noticed that neither of their faces showed the strain of yesterday in treating their patient.

  “I got some milk down him while you were gone. He still has not opened his eyes again though,” Sarah said when she saw Ethan come in.

  “Good. Glad to hear it,” Ethan said.

  “Your cowboy here is better. His heart is stronger and he has more color, but he needs to wake up so he can start eating,” Doc said.

  “Do you think he has a head injury?” Sarah asked.

  “No, I think that it is shock and the loss of blood. The milk will help some. Give him as much as you can,” the doctor told her.

  “Did you tell Doc?” Ethan asked Sarah.

  “No, I thought I would let you.”

  Doc looked up at Ethan. “Tell me what?”

  “Look at his left calf, Doc.”

  The doctor moved the sheet to have a look and then did a quick glance at the face. “Well, I’ll be damn. That’s Gideon Johann,” he said.