One Bright Morning

by Duncan, Alice

  “Jubal. Jubal Green.”

  “Green? Well, that’s interesting,” said Maggie, more for conversation than anything else. “He’s Green and you’re Blue. You’re a colorful pair.” She thought about chuckling and decided against it.

  Dan Blue Gully looked at her blankly and then shrugged. “I was born on his place.” He smiled ironically. “Of course, the Greens come to live there a long time after the Blue Gullys, because the Mescalero have been there for centuries, but I figure it ain’t worth fighting about anymore. Anyway, Jubal and me, we sort of raised each other.”

  Maggie only swallowed and nodded.

  Dan had been nimbly working on Jubal Green’s thigh during their conversation. He sprinkled something over the wound and packed it tight, then bandaged it up with the clean, torn linen strips that Maggie had set aside for the purpose.

  “How—how did Mr. Green get shot?”

  “Saving my life.”

  Maggie wondered if she had misunderstood.

  “Did—um—did you say saving your life, Mr. Blue Gully?”

  “Yep. We trade off.” the grin he gave her along with those words was big.

  Maggie felt terribly confused. This Dan Blue Gully didn’t seem to be one to tell a body a whole lot at one time. Then she remembered the wanted poster.

  With a nod toward the table where the blood-soaked broadside yet lay, she asked, “Were the two of you looking for that criminal on the poster?” Since she still cradled the stranger’s thigh in her arms, she couldn’t pick the broadside up.

  Dan Blue Gully looked over to see where Maggie was indicating and nodded.

  “Yep. Kind of.”

  Maggie decided to ignore that “kind of” for the present.

  “Why?”

  The Indian looked at her somberly for a second or two. “French Jack killed Jubal’s family.”

  Maggie’s eyes opened wide at that. “Killed his family?” she whispered. “How terrible.”

  “Yep,” was all he said.

  “He killed his wife and children?” Maggie felt like crying at the thought.

  “Nah. His brother and sister-in-law. They all lived on the spread. In west Texas. Near El Paso. Called Green’s Valley.”

  “Oh.” Maggie still felt sort of sick. “Why did he do that?”

  The Indian shrugged. “It wasn’t personal.”

  Maggie gaped at him. “Not personal?” Although she had never tried before, Maggie didn’t think she could come up with of too many things more personal than somebody killing one’s family.

  “Naw. He’s bein’ paid.”

  “Paid?”

  “Yeah. Another feller wants us dead.”

  Maggie swallowed hard. “Why?”

  Dan shrugged again. “He’s crazy.”

  Just then Maggie heard a crash at the kitchen door.

  “Oh, I think Ozzie’s back.”

  “Maggie!” It was Sadie Phillips shrieking.

  Maggie suddenly wondered if asking for Sadie had been a good idea. Sadie was a very nervous sort of person. It was rather pleasant to be around this stolid Indian who seemed so calm. She sighed.

  “I’d better go talk to Sadie, Mr. Blue Gully. She’s come to help.”

  Dan grunted a “Hmmph.” It didn’t sound like a happy hmmph.

  “I’ll—I’ll get rid of her,” Maggie stammered.

  Dan smiled at her then and nodded. “Good idea.”

  Chapter Two

  “Maggie, what on earth is going on? Ozzie said something about a gunshot cowboy come knockin’ at your door and you took him in and laid him out. Is he dead?” Sadie’s voice was pitched low and throbbed with excitement.

  “No. He isn’t dead.” Maggie eyed Sadie curiously. “Why are you whispering, Sadie?”

  Sadie’s eyes were bright with intrigue. “Why, if you had a dead man in here, I didn’t mean no disrespect.”

  Now Maggie really wished she hadn’t sent for Sadie.

  “No, he isn’t dead yet, Sadie. He’s bad hurt, though. We had to dig two bullets out of him, and he’s unconscious. I know he lost a lot of blood.”

  Maggie remembered the blood-filled boot and shuddered. She figured she’d best take care of that next, before the blood dried and ruined the boot completely.

  Sadie had backed up some and was now looking at Maggie with wide, horrified eyes. Maggie didn’t know what was wrong, but she sure hoped Sadie wouldn’t scream.

  “What’s the matter, Sadie?”

  “Your dress,” Sadie said in a low, dramatic whisper. She pointed an artistically quivering finger at Maggie’s shirtwaist.

  Maggie looked down at her bodice and sighed.

  “Oh, yeah. I got some blood on me, I guess. I’ll have to clean it up when I have time.” She shook her head in perturbation. “Blood leaves stains, too. Oh, well, I guess it can’t be helped. I’ll just soak it in cold water and soda powder when I get a chance.”

  “Vinegar might help that, ma’am,” came the deep, rumbling voice of Dan Blue Gully from the bedroom doorway.

  Sadie looked up and then she did shriek.

  Maggie grimaced, recalling her recent headache and hoping it wouldn’t decide to come back for a visit. She didn’t trust shrieks and departed headaches to hang out in the same room without getting together and paying her a call.

  “Please don’t scream, Sadie,” she said in a tight voice. “Stop that noise. You’ll upset the baby. This here is Mr. Dan Blue Gully. He’s the wounded man’s partner, and he’s been helping me. Or I’ve been helping him. Or something.”

  Since Maggie was incurably honest, she didn’t want to usurp any credit due Mr. Blue Gully, but she honestly wasn’t sure exactly how to express their relationship in this instance.

  “He’s an Indian,” came Sadie’s throbbing whisper.

  Maggie wondered if Sadie thought that fact had escaped her attention. “I know, Sadie,” she said acidly.

  “But—but—he’s an Indian.” Sadie was visibly trembling.

  “It’s all right, Sadie. He’s not a wild Indian. Mr. Blue Gully is a friend of the stranger’s. His name is Jubal Green and he’s got a spread near El Paso. Some criminal named French Jack shot him because they were looking for him because he was looking for them and he killed Mr. Green’s family. Not his wife and children, but his sister and brother-in-law.”

  “Brother and sister-in-law,” Dan Blue Gully corrected her conscientiously.

  “Right. Brother and sister-in-law,” amended Maggie, glad for the clarification.

  Sadie just stared at Dan Blue Gully, her normally rather squinched-up brown eyes now opened so wide in terror that they displayed a small halo of white around the pupils.

  “It’s all right, Sadie,” said Maggie again.

  She wondered what on earth to do with the woman now that she was here, and she finally took her by the arm and led her over to Annie. Maybe Sadie could be useful in spite of herself.

  “Would you please watch Annie for me, Sadie? I’ve got to tend to Mr. Green a while longer. All I’ve been able to give the baby for breakfast so far is a couple of biscuits. Maybe you could clean her up some and get a little milk down her from the back porch. If it isn’t froze over.”

  Sadie sat with a thump and stared up at Maggie.

  “Sadie?”

  Maggie hoped she wouldn’t have to slap Sadie’s face if she went into hysterics. She’d heard that happened sometimes with ladies who possessed fine sensibilities. Maggie didn’t figure she herself possessed any sensibilities at all, but she wasn’t sure about Sadie.

  “I—I—”Sadie swallowed hard. “All right,” she said, and turned her attention to Annie.

  Annie said a chipper, toothless, “Ho, Say,” to Sadie.

  That won a delighted smile from her mama, but Sadie didn’t even notice Annie’s perfect sentence of greeting.

  Maggie sighed and turned back to Dan Blue Gully, who was watching the scene with serene brown eyes. He stepped aside so that Maggie could enter the room before
him, and Maggie wondered why all men weren’t that polite.

  She walked with him over to the bed and they both looked down at the unconscious Jubal Green. The gunshot man was quite a specimen, all right, thought Maggie. He surely took the shine out of what she remembered of Kenny. Then she shook her head at her disloyal, wicked thoughts.

  “What should we do now?” she asked.

  Dan didn’t answer her, and she finally noticed that he was looking down at her with a puzzled frown. Then she realized that this was her house and he most likely figured it was up to her to say what happened next. She cleared her throat.

  “I mean,” she started over, “I guess he’ll have to stay here for a while. Will you wait here with him?”

  Dan Blue Gully still didn’t answer immediately, and Maggie wondered if she were making herself clearly understood. This had been such a confusing morning so far. She pressed a hand to her forehead. Maybe she had a fever and this was all some kind of a vision caused by brain waves. Maggie had read about brain waves.

  “You got a man?”

  The question startled Maggie into a little twitch of surprise. She turned her gaze toward Dan Blue Gully’s face, which was still staring down at her, the expression it contained unreadable to her.

  “He—he died,” she stammered.

  Dan uttered a “Hmmm,” that didn’t mean a thing to Maggie.

  Then silence reigned once more. It loomed about them like a huge, palpable thing, so big and scary that Maggie felt as though she were about to smother on it. She had an irresistible impulse to send that overwhelming silence-thing to grass, and began to chatter in reaction. She plucked at Jubal’s bedclothes as her tongue ran on like a locomotive.

  “He died three months ago. Got himself kicked by a horse. Never was much good with horses. He was a fine man, though. His name was Kenny. Kenny Bright. Mr. Kenneth Anthony Bright. He was born in New York, but he moved to the Territory after the war. His whole family came out here, though some of them stopped before they got this far. Don’t say as I blame them much. It’s pretty rough out here. I don’t know if I’d be here if it wasn’t for Kenny. He married me in Indiana and brought me to this farm. It’s real hard living here in the Territory. I never farmed before. I’m not much good at it. And then there’s Annie. I don’t know if it’s good to raise a baby all alone like this. And there’s also a lot of rough types always wandering into Lincoln. But it is pretty here. And the place mine. That counts for a lot.”

  Maggie ran out of breath and stopped talking. Like an engine losing steam, her words just sort of chuffed out and died. She felt her cheeks get hot with embarrassment and hoped it was too dark in the room for Mr. Blue Gully to notice.

  Then Dan said, “I had to cut them britches off Jubal. He won’t be usin’ them no more. Your dead man got any britches he can wear?”

  Maggie wondered if he had heard a word she had said. Then she wondered how he could have avoided hearing them, they had all tumbled out so loud and fast. She swallowed hard.

  “Kenny was a lot smaller than Mr. Green, I’m afraid. I don’t know if they’d fit him.”

  “You any good with a needle and thread?”

  Maggie didn’t answer for a minute as she considered the question. Dan Blue Gully seemed to home right in on the important things. Cut straight down to the nub, he did.

  “Oh,” she said finally. “Oh, sure. I guess I could let some out for him.”

  The man nodded. “That would be right nice if you could, Mrs. Bright,” he said. “Otherwise, Jubal’ll have to ride out to kill French Jack buck naked.”

  Maggie stared up at him in surprise. “You mean, you’re still going after him?”

  Dan just looked at his partner and said, “Yep.”

  “Oh.”

  “Can I leave Jubal to your care for a day or so, ma’am? I think he’ll be all right, if you keep them wounds clean and sprinkle ‘em with this powder.” He dangled a hide bag with a leather drawstring in front of Maggie.

  Maggie gave him a lopsided smile. “Your aunt in Arizona?”

  He didn’t smile back. “Yep.” Then he said, “You got to clean them wounds twice a day and sprinkle this stuff on ‘em. Wash them with warm water. Not hot. Not cold. Just tepid. Sprinkle this stuff on ‘em and bind ‘em tight. Not too tight.”

  “Right,” said Maggie, memorizing the instructions.

  “This here’s some different kind of bark that’s good for fever. Boil it up in some water. Better do that now, because I expect he’ll be feverish before very long.”

  “Right,” Maggie said again, and went to do exactly that. She put the bark in a little pot of water and set it on the stove to boil. Then she returned to the room.

  “Er, Mr. Blue Gully, do I feed him that bark and water like—like tea?”

  Dan Blue Gully considered the man on the bed for a moment before he spoke.

  “Might have to spoon it down him, if the fever’s bad. He might not know enough to drink it.”

  Maggie blinked at the naked man on her bed and felt so inadequate all of a sudden that she almost cried.

  “What about that bark you gave me for my headache? Can I boil a piece of that up for his pain?”

  “Better not do that yet, ma’am. If he don’t hurt, he might move around too much.”

  “Doc Pritchard should be here soon if Ozzie could find him. If Doc’s sober. If Ozzie’s sober.” Maggie was watching Jubal Green with bleak eyes.

  Dan frowned. Maggie looked up in time to catch that frown and it worried her. The man looked fierce when he frowned.

  “I don’t know that I want no white doctor messin’ with my friend, ma’am,” he said stolidly after a moment or two.

  Maggie took a breath to protest, but was suddenly assailed by the recollection of Doc Pritchard reeling down the street in Lincoln and shut her mouth. She wondered if Mr. Blue Gully might not have a point after all.

  “Well,” she said diplomatically, “I don’t suppose Doc Pritchard is any worse than most doctors.”

  Dan peered down at Jubal Green thoughtfully. Then he turned somber eyes on Maggie.

  “You see, Miz Bright, Jubal Green and me is more than just friends. We grew up together. We were kind of like each other’s family. We’re almost sort of like brothers. Like kin. I don’t know as I want anybody dealin’ with him unless I trust him. I trust you. I don’t know who this Doc Pritchard is, but if you’re ‘feard he’s drunk, I don’t know as I want him messin’ with Jubal. You understand me, ma’am?”

  Maggie understood him. She nodded. “Yes.”

  Neither one of them spoke for a few moments.

  “I’ll tend him,” Maggie said at last. “I won’t let Doc Pritchard touch him. I promise.”

  Dan smiled. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”

  “What will you do?” Maggie asked.

  “Got to keep track of French Jack,” he said. “I don’t suppose he’s gone far.”

  Maggie’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Don’t you think he’d try to get away from the scene of his crime?”

  Dan Blue gully shook his head. “French Jack’s bein’ paid by a man who hates Jubal Green worse than anything else in the world. French Jack will want to make sure he’s dead so’s he can collect his pay. He won’t go far.”

  That information entered Maggie’s brain and settled like sour milk. The more she thought about it, the more it didn’t make her feel particularly good. Her brow crinkled up.

  “Mr. Blue Gully,” she ventured tentatively.

  He grunted.

  “If this French Jack person is after Mr. Green, do you really think it’s a good idea to leave him here? I mean, with me? Alone? With nobody around?”

  The Indian looked at her with a level gaze. “You worried, ma’am?” he asked.

  Maggie swallowed. “Well, yes. Yes, I guess I am worried, Mr. Blue Gully. I mean, if this crazy man is after your partner and he’s here and you’re not and he’s gunshot and unconscious, don’t you think that might be a lit
tle dangerous for us? For all of us? For my daughter and me? And Mr. Green, too?”

  “Don’t worry, ma’am,” Dan Blue Gully said. “I’ll be watchin’.”

  Maggie looked at him with dismay. He’d be watching? She cast a glance at Jubal Green and sighed. Well, he sure wasn’t going anywhere; that was for certain. He’d be lucky to survive.

  Ozzie came back shortly before Dan Blue Gully left. He barged right in the back door without knocking. Not that Maggie expected politeness from Ozzie. Still, it always irritated her that he didn’t knock. She spoke sharply to him when he lurched into the kitchen.

  “Will you ever learn to knock, you useless bum? And you took your sweet time, didn’t you, Ozzie?”

  Ozzie looked hurt. Ozzie often looked hurt. That irritated Maggie, too. If he weren’t such a no-good loafer, he wouldn’t have so much to look hurt about.

  “Well, now, Miss Maggie, I told Sadie Phillips you needed help, like you told me.”

  “You did that, all right.”

  Sadie and Annie were still keeping each other company. They were now in Annie’s room where Sadie was dressing the baby and Annie was laughing.

  Maggie was trying to clean up after the various operations that been performed in her own bedroom. Jubal Green was sleeping—or unconscious—in her bed, and she and Dan Blue Gully had managed to get one of Kenny’s old night shirts over his head, so he was at least decent.

  She had covered him with two quilts, and promised Dan that she would watch very carefully for fever and do precisely what he told her to do in case fever struck. Maggie decided that anybody who could cure one of her headaches was a person whose advice was worth following when it came to medical matters.

  Now, as she washed out rags and bandages and Ozzie lounged at the kitchen table, Dan Blue Gully was checking his friend over one last time before he left to search for French Jack.

  “Did you find Doc Prichard, Ozzie?”

  She felt just a tiny bit guilty for sending Ozzie after a doctor whom she now no longer needed. Then she decided she had nothing to feel guilty about. After all, she hadn’t known that an Indian would show up and take over the show when she sent Ozzie out earlier.