Three Men and a Bounty

by Three Men

  “Lord, what did she do to you?” James ran his palm gently down the animal’s pelt.

  Chris got up on his knees, removing the kerchief from around his neck. He found a tin cup of water that hadn’t been overturned and soaked the kerchief in it before coming back to tend to Troy’s wounded shoulder.

  “She got him really good.”

  “She did.”

  Chris glanced up to catch James’ glance, and James’ hand froze in Troy’s fur. “I knew you’d come for me,” he whispered.

  “Troy found you. Without him locking onto your scent, it would have been a mite harder for me to track you. It would have taken me longer alone, anyway.”

  Chris nodded and bent his head to cradle a cheek against Troy’s pelt as the animal lay on his side as if exhausted. “He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?”

  “Troy’s going to be all right. We all will be now.”

  Epilogue

  Hayden Homestead - Oklahoma Territory – 1877

  Choctaw tribal healer, Miakoda, stood at the edge of the forest, waiting for his prophecy to come to pass.

  When the wagon bearing his old friend Nayati at the helm burst out of the forest edging Nayati’s property, Miakoda remained unsurprised.

  Nayati pulled the wagon to a stop and jumped down from the front seat before the wagon had come to a complete stop.

  “Miakoda!”

  “I had a vision, Nayati.”

  “Lucy and Caesar…?”

  “The woman and man who take care of your home and property are inside awaiting your arrival. I assured them that you would return soon and need the services of my healing skills. They are preparing a room for your friend as I requested.”

  Nayati nodded and ran around to the back of the wagon to help one of the white men down from the buckboard. “This is Troy Barrow, and he was injured out on a hunt.”

  “You do not need to explain. I have seen all I need to know.”

  Nayati and the other young white man held up Troy between them, then wordlessly followed Miakoda into the house and upstairs to the master bedroom where Miakoda’s belongings awaited. Once Nayati and the young white man got Troy situated in bed, Miakoda banished them from the room and closed the door in their faces so that he could concentrate on their friend and begin his work.

  * * * *

  “He was so weak,” Chris whispered, his voice revealing all the hopelessness and fear that James fought to deny. He did not want to think what it would be like to lose one of the men he loved so soon after accepting his feelings.

  “He called you Nayati. Why?”

  “It’s a tribal name. Miakoda gave it to me when I lived with the Choctaw.”

  “What does it mean?”

  James just silently shook his head. It wasn’t important what it meant, not to him, not anymore, because he knew exactly what he wanted and had found it in Chris and Troy.

  He looked at Chris pacing by the fireplace and noticed the dark circles beneath the manchild’s eyes and the welt on his temple. Regret choked his vocal chords that he, his job, had almost been the cause of Chris’ death.

  “You should eat,” he blurted, sounding more like Lucy than himself.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Lucy’ll have my hide if I look like I’m not taking care of you.”

  Chris only smiled.

  “You need to keep up your strength. You’ll feel better after you eat.”

  “I’ll feel better once I know that Troy’s okay.”

  Despite the promise he’d made to Chris back at the cove, James found it increasingly difficult to believe that Troy would recover. He’d witnessed the wolf’s miraculous healing ability, had witnessed Troy healing his wound before they’d started their trek home. He’d insisted on changing to human form for the trip home, though, and the shift had taken a lot out of him. Maybe more than he could spare. James jerked his head up at the sound of a creak on the staircase.

  Miakoda descended the last few steps and stood at the bottom of the landing with both hands folded in front of him. “It is done.”

  Chris came forward, his anxiety rolling off of him in waves. “He’s all right?”

  Miakoda looked at him for a long time before responding, and even then he didn’t do it verbally. Rather, he reached out his hand to rest on Chris’ shoulder and closed his eyes.

  The silence proved deafening until Miakoda opened his eyes and smiled at Chris.

  The sight proved so out of character that James almost gasped.

  “The shifter waits for you.”

  Chris didn’t waste time confirming what Miakoda had inferred with his reassuring actions. He simply ran up the stairs to see Troy.

  Miakoda fixed James with a stare and stopped him with a hand when James made to follow. “You have changed, old friend.”

  “I no longer wrestle.” James knew the truth of it as soon as he said it.

  “You should go. Your men need you.”

  James silently nodded and followed Chris’ path up the stairs to the master bedroom.

  He opened the door to find Troy sitting up in bed, a gauze bandage wrapped around his upper torso from front to back, the whiteness clashing with the olive tint of his skin.

  Chris sat on the bed beside him, clutching one of Troy’s hands in a death grip and smiling. James crossed the floor to the bed, knowing the truth of Miakoda’s words.

  Troy and Chris were his men, and they did need him.

  However, no one in the world could ever know how much he needed and loved the both of them—until now.

  He smiled at both men before sitting on the bed beside Troy, opposite Chris, and taking Troy’s free hand. In that moment, he realized he had found exactly who and what he had been searching for. He had found exactly who and what he needed in his life.

  THE END

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com