“Yes sir, they do.”
“How long have you lived in Virginia City?”
Since the genial smile was still on Doug’s face, Nick figured he wasn’t a known member of the Committee outside of Virginia City. “A few years now,” he said, to answer the question.
Reflexively, Doug’s eyes went to Nick’s hands and the bloody cloths that were loosely wrapped around them. Although another question obviously gnawed at Doug’s brain, he kept from speaking it out loud.
Nick leaned back and savored the silence, no matter how awkward it was.
Over the next twenty minutes or so, Doug seemed perfectly happy with sitting quietly and letting Nick rest his eyes. A bit later, the front door swung open and several sets of footsteps echoed through the house.
“Sounds like the girls are home,” Doug said.
Sure enough, two little girls with blonde hair poked their faces into the room before being pulled out once more. As soon as they cleared the path, a skinny old man wearing a brown suit came into the bedroom. His egg-shaped head was bald on top with a ring of gray hair around the back.
“Bill Mather, this is Nick Graves,” Doug said in his normal, friendly tone.
Mather squinted down at Nick and said, “Let’s see what the problem is.” After pulling a stool next to the bed, Mather sat down and peeled away the bloody cloths. “Jesus Christ,” he squawked. “What happened to your hands, boy?”
“They were shot,” Nick said through clenched teeth. Just looking at the wounds was enough to re-ignite the rage inside him.
“He’s got other wounds, too, but his hands are the worst,” Doug said.
“Well, we’ll just see about that.”
Mather systematically examined Nick from top to bottom. The only sounds he made were the occasional grunts and mutters to himself. His hands worked quickly and without much concern for Nick’s comfort. It reminded him of stories he’d heard from men who’d fought in the War Between the States. They’d told Nick that the doctors in those field hospitals were sometimes worse than the assholes who’d put the bullet in you.
As much pain as Nick felt, he made less noise than Mather. He moved when he was pushed or pulled in one direction or another and he gritted his teeth through the rest. When he saw the needles come out to stitch him up, Nick picked a spot on the wall and stared at it.
“This is going to hurt,” Mather said. “You want a drink or something to bite down on?”
Nick glanced at the old medic and then shifted his eyes back to the spot he’d picked on the wall. He shook his head and swallowed hard, knowing that Red would love nothing more than to see him squirm right about now. That was all it took for Nick to steel himself.
It took hours for Mather to do what he needed to do. In that time, Nick didn’t make a sound.
It was early evening when Doug walked out of the bedroom. Sue fixed him with an upset look and asked, “Shouldn’t one of us be in there?”
Doug propped the shotgun in a corner and shook his head warily. “That poor young man’s barely able to sit up straight. If he’s strong enough to take a swing at Bill, I think that’s a good sign.”
“Did he try anything like that?”
“No. He just stared at the wall.”
Doug and Sue did the same thing until the bedroom door swung open again. Mather stepped out, wiping his brow, and then took the spectacles from his nose so he could clean them.
“How is he?” Doug asked.
“I’d say the bigger question is who is he,” Mather grumbled. “Did either of you find that out before taking him into your home like a stray?”
Ignoring the look he got from his wife, Doug said, “He was bleeding and lying on the ground. What was I supposed to do? Just let him lie there and die?”
“If he was some killer on the run from the Vigilance Committee, then yes. That’d be the smartest thing to do.”
Sue covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God. Is he a killer?”
“I don’t know, but I do know those wounds are mostly from gunshots. Some of the others looked like the bayonet wounds I saw in the war, but they could have come from a knife. Either way, that young man was in a serious fight. The last time someone was tore up that bad and on the run out of Virginia City, it was from that Committee. Has anyone been looking for him?”
“No,” Doug said. Turning to his wife, he asked, “Did anyone ask about him while you were out?”
Sue shook her head. “No.”
“Then maybe he got clear of whoever shot him up,” Mather offered. “Considering the condition he’s in, they probably think the young man’s dead.”
“His name is Nick Graves,” Doug told him.
“I don’t care if his name is Ulysses Grant. If he’s a killer with other killers after him, it’d be wise for you to be rid of him. Especially since you’ve got the girls to worry about.”
“Thanks, Bill, but we can make that decision.”
“Suit yourself. I cleaned and dressed the wounds as best I could. He needs plenty of rest, but he might just make it. Judging by how he took the stitches and everything else, I’d say it’s nothing but bullheadedness that’s kept him alive this long.”
“What about his hands?” Sue asked with a wince.
“You saw ’em for yourself. They’re shot to hell, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about that. Still, they’re not fatal wounds. By the looks of it, whoever shot him up was either trying to rip him apart or was just one hell of a bad shot. Since there was a knife involved, I’d put my money on the former.”
“What’s a knife got to do with it?” Doug asked.
“You have to get up close for it to work,” Mather replied warily. “Takes a bit more resolve.”
Doug nodded as if he was learning a foreign language. “Right. Of course.”
“So,” Mather said as he headed for the front door, “you want me to ask the marshal about your guest in there?”
Doug looked to his wife, but didn’t get much more than an uncertain shrug in return. Taking a deep breath and letting it out decisively, Doug said, “No. We’ll keep an eye on him until he’s feeling a little better.”
“That should give you until tomorrow at least,” Mather said. “He passed out when I was filing down the bone of one of his fingers. Anyone else, I’d say they would be laid up for a while, but that one in there will probably be trying to get up in the morning.”
Although he tried not to squirm at the casual way Mather tossed out those last few sentences, Doug wasn’t able to hide the fact that his face was now white as a sheet. “All right, then. What do I owe you for this?”
“We’ll work something out. Right now, I just want to get some sleep. Talk to you both later.” With that, Mather threw a wave over his shoulder and left.
Both Doug and Sue jumped at the sound of the slamming door.
“What in God’s name do we do now?” Sue asked in a frightened whisper. “That man may be a gun-fighter or an outlaw.”
“He doesn’t have a gun on him,” Doug said as if to comfort himself along with his wife. “And he’s in no shape to harm anyone, even if he…” Suddenly realizing he couldn’t comfort anyone by going along that line of thought, Doug stopped himself. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to think of anything better to say before one of his little girls came running into the room.
The girl wore a cute little blue dress, but was small enough that a potato sack could have covered her just as well. “Does the scary man want my blanket?” she asked.
“No, princess,” Doug said. “He’s sleeping just fine.”
Without another word, she nodded and ran off.
“You’ll keep an eye on him,” Sue said to her husband. “And you’ll have that gun close by when you do it. I’ll fix a plate for him in case he gets hungry during the night.”
And, just like that, the decision was made.
TWENTY
Every time Nick opened his eyes, he didn’t bother checking if it was night or day. Some
times there was light streaming through his window and sometimes there wasn’t. The biggest problem was that he couldn’t get himself to care about where the sun happened to be. Most of the time, he wondered if he would be better off if he simply didn’t wake up at all.
Nick had never been given to self-pity, and he sure as hell hadn’t picked up anything like that from his father. In fact, Stasys’s voice passed through Nick’s mind more often than any other. He felt as though his father was constantly scolding him for the mess his life had become.
The smell of freshly baked bread drifted through the house, causing Nick to stir. No matter what else had happened or what was going through his mind, Nick was always glad to see the Hemphill family. Doug was quick with a joke and kept them coming even though Nick wasn’t in the mood to laugh. Sue always made him feel better, even by doing something as simple as dabbing his face with a wet cloth or rubbing his arm before she left. The children were heard more than seen, but their laughter would drown out the other echoes that drifted through Nick’s mind.
He never realized just how much attention he’d been paying to the sounds inside that house until a new one entered the mix. First, there was the creaking of the front door. Then, there was a rough voice from outside, which grew louder the longer it talked.
“I don’t think the question was too hard, Hemphill. All I asked was—”
“I know what you asked,” Doug cut in.
Nick winced at the angry tone in Doug’s voice. Although most folks sounded angry every now and then, Doug hadn’t raised his voice in such a way the entire time Nick had been there. In fact, it was difficult for Nick to picture what Doug might have looked like if he was angry.
When Doug continued, some of the edge was already missing from his voice. “I wish I could help you, but I just haven’t seen any strangers pass through here. It’s rare we even get to see you.”
“You can bullshit me all you want,” the first voice said, “but there’ve been reports of a man around here fitting this description. He’s wounded and he’s dangerous, so it ain’t a very good combination.”
Nick eased to the edge of the bed and then slowly got to his feet. It was an effort to stand up, but that was only because he’d been content to lie on his back and count the boards in the ceiling until now. He made it across the room and pressed his ear against the door.
“If I see anyone, I’ll let you know. That’s going to have to do for now, Marshal.”
Nick heard the hinges creak, but that sound was interrupted by a solid thump.
“Move your foot, Marshal,” Doug said.
There was a silence and then a lower, growling voice. Nick pressed his ear even harder against the door until he was able to pick out more of the marshal’s words.
“…friends that’re very interested about this fella. If I have to tell them you wouldn’t let me have a look inside, I’ll just have to let them come see for themselves.”
“Then tell them to come back on Sunday,” Doug said cheerily. “Sue’s making a cake.”
Nick waited to hear the marshal’s response, but all he heard was a shuffle and the creak of the door shutting. He opened the bedroom door to take a look out and saw Doug turning around to face him.
“Nick, you’re up!”
“Who was that?” Nick asked.
Doug looked back at the door and shrugged. “Just a neighbor.”
“I heard some of what he said. He said he was looking for a man and he wanted to search this house.”
“Someone must have seen you that day and gotten the wrong impression. Like I said before, you were out of sorts.”
Although he hadn’t meant to, Nick put a vicious snarl in his voice when he asked, “What was his name?”
“Marshal Bagley. Do you know him?”
After a moment, Nick recalled hearing that name once or twice from Red. “He’s the law in a few little towns around here.”
“That’s right. It’s just some bad luck he’s around here right now. Don’t worry, though. He’s just making the rounds.”
“Who were the friends he mentioned?”
Doug chuckled and asked, “Did you have a glass against the wall?” When he saw Nick wasn’t laughing, he added, “Marshal Bagley says he’s on good terms with the Virginia City Vigilance Committee. Most folks around here think that’s just hot air to frighten the troublemakers.”
“God dammit,” Nick growled. “I need a gun.”
“What? There’s no need for that.”
Responding to Doug’s raised voice, Sue stuck her head in the door. “Is the marshal still here? What is Nick doing out of bed?”
“I need a gun,” Nick said to both of them. “Any gun you’ve got.”
“Nick thinks Marshal Bagley intends on doing him some harm,” Doug called over his shoulder to his wife.
“Does the marshal have a reason to do you some harm?” Sue asked.
The way she was staring him down, Nick knew better than to try and lie. “Maybe.”
“You see?” Doug said quickly. “There’s no…what? Maybe? What do you mean, maybe?”
“If that marshal of yours keeps in touch with the Committee,” Nick explained, “there may be a chance that he’s out to put me down.”
“Why?”
Before Nick could answer, Sue interjected, “That damn Committee doesn’t need a reason. They never have. That’s why we left Virginia City, remember?”
“I know plenty about the Committee,” Doug said with some of the anger that Nick had heard in his voice a little while ago. “But I also know they go after some deserving targets as well. Which one are you, Nick? Be honest with me and I’ll stick by you as much as I can.”
Nick found the shotgun propped against a wall and snatched it up before Doug could do a thing about it. Checking to make sure it was loaded, he said, “Neither of you knows a damn thing about me. You don’t know the half of what the Committee is capable of, either.”
“Then tell us what we need to know,” Doug insisted.
“For one, I need to make sure that marshal don’t send word to Virginia City. Once Red hears about someone giving shelter to a wounded man, the Committee will come here looking for me. You don’t want that. Did you tell anyone my name?”
Doug recalled mentioning Nick’s name to his neighbor and cursed under his breath. “Damn it, let me go talk to the marshal. I can tell him you ran away.”
Nick looked at Doug and saw genuine concern in a face that he barely even knew. Although Sue was busy with the girls in another room, she had looked just as concerned when she looked through the doorway at Nick. It should have been easy for him to pick up his things and leave.
It should have been easy for Nick to take the Hemphills’ money as well as a fresh horse and start riding in any direction other than toward Virginia City. A few short months ago, Nick would have done all of those things. Hell, a few days ago he had been entertaining that very notion.
“How many deputies does that marshal have?” Nick asked.
“Don’t worry about that,” Doug said.
Sue came to her husband’s side. When she spoke, there was no uncertainty in her voice. “Three. There may be more, but I’ve only seen three men riding with Marshal Bagley.”
“Were any of them with him today?”
Finally Doug nodded. “Just one.”
Nick tucked the shotgun under his arm and walked into the kitchen. When he came back out, he was buttoning one of Doug’s jackets over him and patting the gun into place. “Hope you don’t mind if I borrow this,” he said.
Doug forced a smile onto his face and said, “Only if you bring it back.”
“You might not see me again,” Nick replied without returning even a fraction of Doug’s smile. “I’ll try to stop by again, but I can’t make any promises.”
“Where are you going?” Sue asked.
By this time, Nick had made it to the front door and was peeking outside. “I’m going to make sure that marshal doesn’t report ba
ck to Red in Virginia City. After that, I’ve got some business of my own to finish.”
Doug reached out to grab hold of Nick’s arm. “You’re in no condition to ride anywhere. You shouldn’t even think about it.”
Nick got the man to release his grip with nothing more than a warning glare. Once Doug stepped back, Nick said, “You’ve done enough already. Whatever happens after this, it’s best that you don’t know about it. Whatever you think you know…forget it. And forget me, too, while you’re at it. It’ll be better all around that way.”
Doug was standing halfway between his wife and the door. His arm was still extended from grabbing Nick’s elbow and he extended it once more with his hand open. Nick paused for a second, and then reached out with one of his bandaged hands. Closing his fingers tentatively, Doug slowly shook Nick’s hand as if he was trying not to break an expensive piece of china.
“If you need to go,” Doug said earnestly, “just go. Take whatever you need. Take the shotgun, but don’t use it on our account. I’ll do my best to make certain news doesn’t spread from here about you.”
“I appreciate the thought,” Nick said, “but I’d be asking way too much.”
Doug smirked, but it was less humorous and more conspiratorial. “Not as much as you think. I work at the telegraph office a mile from here and we get plenty of news before Virginia City does. We also get plenty of notices posted there by the law. Knowing that Committee, they’ll be posting one there, themselves, before long. It’ll be burnt as soon as they leave.”
Knowing it wouldn’t do any good to refuse the man’s help, Nick nodded and shook Doug’s hand in earnest. Although he felt the familiar burning pain shoot through his hand, his grip was stronger than it had been even earlier that same day. “I won’t ever forget you folks,” he said.
“Take care of yourself,” Doug told him.
Sue rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Nick. “Just run,” she whispered into his ear. “That’s all you need to do. Everything else will sort itself out whether you fight for it or not.”
Nick didn’t say anything. He just savored the warmth of her hug and stopped asking himself why the hell these people would do so much for an outlaw they’d scraped off the ground a matter of days ago.
Man From Boot Hill Page 12
