As the Liquor Flows

by Angela Christina Archer

  She laid out more gauze and wrap on the tray, pushing the array of tools out of the way. With another flick of her wrist, she yanked a syringe with a long needle on the end from the pocket of her apron.

  “This may sting for a moment, but it will help the pain.”

  She pierced the needle into Henry’s arm.

  He closed his eyes and flinched.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  She gave me a sideways glance, moving her eyes without moving her head and exhaled a deep breath as she turned to leave.

  “The doctor will be in to check on your stitches before I finish dressing your arm. I suggest you sit as still as possible until then.”

  As she yanked the curtain closed behind her, Henry laid his head back against the pillow. His lips paled from blood loss and pain.

  “Is there anything I can get for you?” Some water? Another blanket or a pillow?

  “Nah, I’m all right.”

  I sat down upon the bed beside him. “The doctor said you’ll have to wear a sling for several weeks, but you should regain the full use of your arm.”

  “Yeah, he mentioned that to me, too.”

  “I’m sorry for what happened.”

  “Why? None of it was your fault.”

  “If I hadn’t have left the house . . .”

  “Don’t even say what you are thinking.” He reached up with his free hand and stroked my cheek. “Something would have happened eventually. We couldn’t have hidden our whole lives. At least now, it’s over and done with. No need to hash it out.”

  “I suppose so. I guess it’s all just still running through my mind. The cops have been asking a bunch of questions.” I covered my forehead with the palm of my hand, rubbing my index finger and thumb in to my temples.

  “You should probably get some rest.”

  “Me?” I laughed. “No, if anyone needs rest, it’s you.”

  The curtain drapes shifted behind me and a tall man strode into the room.

  “Agent James?”

  “Sir?” Henry adjusted his weight and groaned in pain.

  “I’d like a word with you . . . alone.”

  I met Henry’s gaze.

  “Evelyn, this is the Special Agent in charge of the case, Agent Craig.”

  “I thought you were in charge.”

  Henry shook his head.

  “Oh. Well, then, I’ll just . . . I’ll just see myself out.”

  I slinked across the floor toward the curtain as the Special Agent tipped his fedora with one hand and then folded his arms across his chest. His indifference waning for only a moment before his gaze returned to Henry.

  Nurses and doctors scurried around me while they checked on and treated other patients. The hustle and bustle of clanking tools challenged for my attention over the conversation I fought to overhear.

  “I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait for reports, sir.” Henry’s tone bordered amusement with a hint of annoyance.

  “I spoke to the doctor, James. He says you should be back to normal in a couple of months.”

  “Just in time to come back from a suspension, right?”

  “Suspension? No, not a suspension.”

  “Then what? Reassignment to a desk job or another city without a case to work for awhile?” Henry paused for a moment. “Or did you come here to take my badge?”

  “Ah, come on James, don’t you dare give me that look. You know damn well you didn’t follow orders.”

  “My orders were to protect my witness.” Henry’s voice boomed throughout the room.

  Doctors, nurses, and even patients stopped what they were doing and turned their attention in the direction of the curtains.

  My eyes focused on the floor, not meeting any of their gawking faces.

  “You busted onto a property without a warrant and shot a man.”

  “Not just a man, but a criminal who had an active case against him for murder, illegally selling alcohol and drugs, and running a brothel.”

  “Look, I’m not here to take your badge, all right? Nevertheless, the Executive Director wants answers I can’t give him and it’s your ass on the line, not mine.” The special agent groaned under his breath and his shadow paced on the other side of the curtain. “Let me see what I can do tomorrow. See if I can make a few calls and pull a few strings.”

  The hospital bed rocked and squeaked as though Henry adjusted his weight.

  “Have you given any more thought to California?” the special agent asked.

  California?

  “San Francisco might be a good place for you to make a fresh start.”

  San Francisco?

  I bit down on my bottom lip.

  “I’ve thought about it, but there’s something I need to consider.”

  “The something wouldn’t have to have blonde curly hair, wouldn’t it?”

  Henry laughed.

  “Well, think about it. The pay is good, and you’ll be the head of the San Francisco police department.”

  “I know. I know.”

  “Well, good opportunity or not, I guess it’s your choice. I’ll wait for you in the lobby. The doctor said it shouldn’t be too long before he releases you.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  The shadow moved toward the curtain and with a sudden jerk, it opened. My body flinched as I cleared my throat and pretended I didn’t just listen to their whole conversation.

  “Ma’am.” The special agent tipped his fedora again and gave a slight nod.

  I watched him until he disappeared behind the hospital room door. Thoughts of California stole my breath and my hands clenched into fists for a moment before I inhaled a deep breath.

  “Evelyn?” Henry called out. “Evelyn, are you out there?”

  “Ye . . . yes.”

  “Can you come here, please?”

  As I tiptoed through the drapes and toward his bed, a smile spread across his lips.

  “I suppose you heard all that, then, huh?”

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  He snorted a laugh through his nose. “I suppose if that’s how you want to play, then, fine. I’ve been offered the position as Chief of Police in San Francisco.”

  “Oh. Well, I suppose congratulations are in order.”

  “I haven’t accepted the position yet.”

  “But you want to.”

  “A part of me does. I mean, it’s a great opportunity. However, I wanted to discuss the matter with you.”

  “With me? Why?”

  He exhaled a deep breath and patted the bed beside him, motioning for me to sit down.

  “Because if I move across the country to a whole new city, it’ll have to be okay with the woman I plan on asking to marry me.”

  Heat flushed my cheeks. I held my breath. My eyes met his, but only for a moment before they dropped to the floor.

  “Evelyn?”

  I met his gaze again.

  “So, do you think you’d want to marry me and move to San Francisco? I mean, I’m sorry this isn’t the most romantic proposal. I guess I should have waited.”

  “No, no. It’s . . . well, it’s quite perfect, actually. Just like you.”

  He sat up, wincing in pain.

  “You should lie still, remember?” I warned.

  He reached for my chin, his fingers tracing along my jaw line before his hand slid up toward my ear, behind my head and he gently drew me into him until our foreheads touched.

  “No, what I should do is ask if you’ll marry me then kiss you after you say yes.”

  “Oh, so you think I’m going to say yes?”

  “Well, aren’t you?”

  I bit my lip and nodded. “Yes. Of course, my answer is yes.”

  His lips pressed against mine.

  “I told you not to move!” the nurse shouted behind me. “You’re going to rip open your stitches for Pete’s sake.”

  I flinched and jerked, nearly falling off the side of the bed. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, she’s
not, and neither am I because this young lady just agreed to marry me. So stitches or no stitches, I’m going to kiss her.”

  The nurse slapped her hands against his chest, shoving him down onto the bed. “I don’t care if the pastor himself was in here and just announced you husband and wife, you lay in that bed until the doctor talks to you, and I can get you wrapped up.”

  As the nurse pulled her tray of tools from the corner over toward the bed, the doctor slipped inside the curtains. “Good day, Mr. James. How are you feeling?”

  “As normal as one would having a gunshot wound, Doctor Miller.”

  The doctor chuckled.

  As I slid from the bed, the doctor adjusted the glasses sitting on his nose and leaned toward Henry, squinting as he checked over Henry’s arm. He pinched the skin a little, inspecting the stitches.

  “Well, it should heal just fine. You’ll need to keep the wound clean and you’ll have to replace the bandages at least twice a day for a couple of weeks. Once we can take the stitches out, then we’ll reevaluate what you’ll need to do.”

  “All right.”

  The doctor nodded to the nurse who dabbed cleaning solution over the wound, patted it dry, and then began wrapping Henry’s arm and shoulder.

  “I assume you’ll be helping him?” She gestured toward me, but refused to meet my gaze.

  “Um, yes, I suppose so.”

  “Well, then, you might want to watch me.” Her wrists moved quickly, unrolling and folding, as she spun the net-like material around and around until she finally snipped the end and tucked it under to seal it closed. My mind dizzied around each pass she looped over his shoulder and under his arm.

  “Think you can handle it?”

  “Well, it’s not like I can say no.” I laughed. She didn’t. “Yes, ma’am, I can handle it.”

  She tossed the rest of the gauze on the tray and secured the arm sling over his shoulder.

  “The receptionist nurse up front will get you a bag of supplies to take when you leave. You’re free to go now.”

  As she slipped though the curtains for the last time, Henry sat up. Pain overwhelmed his eyes.

  “I’m all right. I’m all right,” he said, waving off my concern.

  “Maybe we should see if they’ll let you rest a bit more before we leave.”

  “No, no. What I don’t need is to stay any longer. What I do need is to go home.”

  “To your apartment?”

  “No, to my real home, the one unknown by anyone and everyone.” He slid from the bed and wrapped his good arm around my shoulders, leaning a tiny bit of his weight on me for support. “Besides, I have a surprise for you.”

  “Oh, you do? And what is it?”

  “You’ll see.”

  We ambled toward the doors that lead out into the hospital lobby. Henry halted, released my shoulder, and reached for the doorknob, hesitating for a second.

  “Are you ready?”

  “For the surprise? It’s here?”

  “Yeah, well, go on, go check it out.”

  As I strolled through the doors, I glanced from side to side, scanning the room for something out of place, something that I would instantly recognize.

  Past the reception desk, two men sat in the corner; one was Special Agent Craig and the other was . . .

  “Frank!” My squealed voice raised an octave and bounced through the lobby. I leap toward him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  His tall frame, thinner than I remembered, hugged me, his embrace tight. “Oh thank goodness you’re all right. Eve, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for this whole mess.”

  “I know you are and I know you never meant for any of this to happen.”

  “If I had been able to look into the future and see all of this, I never would have accepted that job.”

  “I know you wouldn’t have, Frank. Believe me, I know.”

  Henry sauntered up behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist.

  “Hey, there, snitch.” He smirked and chuckled, but still held a hint of sympathy for the embarrassed, humble man standing in front of him. “Are you doing all right?”

  Frank nodded then shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants. His shoulders hunched as though the weight of his guilt rested upon them. An emotional burden so powerful, it became physical, and he pretended to kick at an imaginary something on the floor.

  “I’m sorry I caused so many problems.”

  “Nah, you did great. You did exactly as I asked and your help was vital to my case.” Henry put his hand on Frank’s shoulder then patted his back a couple of times. “Thank you.”

  Frank lifted his gaze for a moment and nodded without saying a word. Weeks of confinement brewed in his eyes. His help had come with sacrifice. His help had come with pain. His help had come with the price of a burden that seemed to age him right before my eyes.

  One morning, weeks ago, he had awoken with the hope of finding a job. Unknown to him, just as it was to me, that the job waiting for him would change his whole life.

  And mine, too.

  Henry faced the special agent. “Is all his paperwork in order?”

  “All filed and ready. He’s free to go and everything is taken care of.”

  Henry gave me a fleeting glance, winked, then nodded toward the special agent once more. “If you don’t mind, Sir, I think I will take that Chief position in San Francisco. I think you’re right that it’s a good opportunity for a fresh start.”

  “Very well, I’ll start your transfer paperwork first thing in the morning.” He tipped his fedora and gave us a nod, motioning Henry to follow him.

  As the two men stepped aside for a private moment, I reached for Frank’s hand.

  “Are you sure you’re doing all right?” I asked him.

  “Yeah, I suppose so.”

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through what you did.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Kind of brought it upon myself.”

  “That doesn’t mean you deserved it, Frank.”

  “But it does mean that I messed up. I messed up big time, and I don’t . . . I don’t think I can fix it.”

  “What is there to fix? You’re out of jail. I’m safe and you’re safe. I would say we’re doing pretty good at this point.” I laughed.

  “That’s all well and great, but what are we going to do now?” With his words, he exhaled a deep, troubled breath. “Don’t suppose our hovel is still vacant and I still don’t have a job.”

  I bit my lip and glanced over at Henry, who was still deep in conversation with his boss. “Frank, I’m . . . I’m going to move to San Francisco with Henry. You’re more than welcome to come with us and start over yourself, too. I’m sure he could help you find a job.”

  Frank’s gaze jerked up from the floor and met mine. With one eyebrow raised, his head cocked slightly to the side. “Eve, I told you to trust him, not date him.”

  “Then you probably don’t think I should marry him, either, right?” I mocked.

  His eyes widened and he blinked several times as his head jerked backwards a tiny bit.

  “Well, I suppose I should congratulate you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you happy?”

  “Yes. I am. Extremely happy.”

  He chuckled and nudged me in the arm. “Then, I’m pleased for you and I know Mom and Dad would have been over the moon.”

  Tears stung my eyes. “Yeah, they would have.”

  “Mom would have cried, I’m sure.” He laughed.

  “You’re probably right.”

  Henry sauntered up behind me, and gently wrapped his arm around my waist. “Well, we’re all set. Agent Craig is going to drive us to the house. Are you ready to go home?”

  I nodded.

  “Frank, you know that you’re more than welcome to stay with us for as long as you need and for as long as you want. And you’re more than welcome to come with us to California.”

  Frank’s eyes shifted to the floor and he nodded. “I
appreciate that, thank you.”

  Henry leaned into me with the strength I needed, the strength I longed for, and the strength that I knew could carry me through anything in this life.

  “We should get you home so you can rest,” I whispered.

  “Knowing we’re going to have to be in San Francisco in a week, I’m going to need it, too.”

  Thoughts of my future, no matter how unknown to me, suddenly overshadowed the streets of New York, a city in a world that seemed unfathomable.

  A world of mobsters, guns, and hooch, a world of corruption and murder, all the makings of some mystery crime novel or movie I’d probably never purchase at a book store or watch at the movie theater.

  Those aren’t my kinds of stories.

  Who would have thought I would be forced to live it.

  While a part of me desired to forget, the other part of me didn’t. Surely, I desired to erase the past, but everything that had happened to me was now a piece to my puzzle and a facet of my life that without it, I wouldn’t be me

  And I wouldn’t have Henry.

  THE END

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Angela lives on a ranch with her husband, two daughters,

  and many farm animals. She was born and raised in Nevada,

  and grew up riding and showing horses.

  While she doesn't show anymore,

  she still loves to trail ride her paint horse, Honky.

  In December of 2007, she and her husband moved to Oklahoma.

  From a young age, she always wanted to write a novel.

  However, she never believed she could write anything well enough for a publisher to even consider her.

  Every time the desire flickered, she shoved the thought from my mind until one morning, in 2009,

  she awoke with the

  determination to follow her dream

  VISIT WWW.ANGELACHRISTINAARCHER.COM

  FOR MORE INFORMATION.

  Other Available Titles

  The Woman on the Painted Horse

  Alexandra Monroe is a slave smuggler, smuggling slaves north to Tennessee where they can live as free people. Her crime is sedition and her punishment, if caught, is death. The daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Montgomery, Alexandra lives a life not by her own accord, but a life she willingly accepts for her secret quest to save the lives of slaves. Her ultimate sacrifice is to marry the town’s most eligible bachelor, Thomas Ludlow.