by Duane Boehm
After cutting the bodies down from the tree, “Gideon asked, “Do you know of anybody that Theo had problems with?”
“No, Theo wasn’t like most ranch hands. He and Wanda were homebodies. I let him build the cabin to make sure that he didn’t leave me. He’s the best ranch hand I ever had. It’s a shame – never caused anybody any problems. I guess I’ll bury them in our family plot if Theo’s brother doesn’t object. I don’t think Wanda has family in these here parts,” Paul said.
Inside the cabin there were obvious signs of a struggle. Two chairs were turned over and a cup lay shattered on the floor. Finnie found a few drops of blood.
“The murderers got bolder this time,” Gideon said.
“Yeah, it looks like they forced their way in,” Finnie said.
“Sheriff, why do you think this happened?” Paul asked.
“I don’t know. I’ll go talk to Wendell to let him know and see if he has any ideas. Do you need help with the bodies?” Gideon said.
“No, I’ll go get the buckboard and my other men can help me load them. I’ll start making boxes and you can send word on what Wendell wants,” Paul said.
“I’ll do it,” Gideon said before he and Finnie rode away.
After they had covered some ground, Finnie asked, “And what do you make of all this? There seems to be no rhyme or reason to either of these hangings.”
“I know it, but there surely is. Maybe Wendell can shed some light,” Gideon replied.
Wendell Sullenger worked in the feed store. He was a short man bulked up with muscle from years of hoisting sacks of feed. Gideon found him standing behind the counter when he entered the building.
“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” Wendell asked.
“Wendell, I have some bad news. Theo and Wanda have been murdered out on Paul Sellers’ ranch,” Gideon said.
Dropping with a thud into a chair, Wendell asked, “Who would do such a thing, Sheriff?”
“I don’t know, Wendell. I was hoping that maybe you could help me figure that out,” Gideon said.
“Theo didn’t have many friends, but he didn’t have any enemies. He wasn’t that kind of a man,” Wendell said.
“I didn’t think so. Were Theo and Wanda married, by chance?” Gideon asked.
“Nah, they always talked about making it legal but they never did. Theo wasn’t much for that kind of thing,” Wendell said.
“Paul is willing to bury them on his family plot if you don’t object,” Gideon said.
“That’d be fine. I’ll ride out there to pay my respects and let him know,” Wendell said.
Gideon watched Wendell’s expression. The man looked too shocked to even begin to grieve and Gideon wished he knew a way to comfort him. He couldn’t even think of anything else to say. Finally, he walked behind the counter and patted Wendell’s shoulder.
“I’ll be fine, Sheriff. It’s just a little hard to take in right now. You go catch the murderer,” Wendell said.
“I’ll do my best,” Gideon said before he and Finnie walked back to the jail.
After throwing some wood into the stove, Finnie asked, “What are you thinking?”
“I think that it’s no coincidence that both hangings happened before bad weather and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that both couples weren’t married,” Gideon said.
“And considering that we found a cross and already know that there’s trouble in Paradise, pardon the pun, I’d say we have some suspects,” Finnie said.
“Let’s go take a ride after we warm up,” Gideon said.
“In this cold weather? You’re going to freeze my Irish manhood right off. Irish men make for poor eunuchs. We like our pleasures,” Finnie said.
“I always thought that you made for a poor everything. Don’t worry, I’ll see to it that it gets a proper burial,” Gideon said.
“That’ll be a mighty big hole that you’ll have to dig,” Finnie said.
Gideon and Finnie rode into Paradise. The only signs of life were plumes of smoke escaping the chimneys. Climbing down from his horse, Gideon walked briskly into the church before anyone could discover them and come to meet them outdoors. Finnie remained sitting on his horse. Pastor Gordon, Cecil’s father, and three other men sat around a potbelly stove. Their conversation stopped abruptly upon seeing the sheriff.
“Sheriff Johann, have you come to be saved?” Gordon asked.
“Not today. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d check to see if Charlotte had a change of mind,” Gideon said.
“Charlotte is now Mrs. Cecil Hobbs. She is enjoying the bliss of a holy matrimony and no longer will be tempted by the lust of the devil and his treachery. The newlyweds are in their own home,” the pastor said.
“That girl’s now my daughter–in–law. Don’t you worry about her. She’s in a fine family now,” the elder Hobbs said.
“She didn’t seem too interested in marriage or being a Hobbs either. I think you all are the ones with the temptation problems,” Gideon said as he scanned the hands of the men. None of them showed any signs of cuts or bruises on their knuckles from what he could see, but Mr. Hobbs clearly had a busted lip.
“You can leave now, Sheriff. Unless you plan to make an arrest you can get out of here,” Gordon said.
“Mr. Hobbs, did Charlotte punch you in the mouth when you tried to welcome her into the family?” Gideon asked.
“Don’t you worry about my lip. I slipped on the ice,” Mr. Hobbs said.
“Leave, Sheriff. I know the law,” Gordon said, his voice rising just short of a yell.
“Good day and stay warm. And don’t slip on any more ice,” Gideon said as he walked out the door.
As they rode away, Gideon said, “They already married off Charlotte. I hoped we’d have some time and maybe get a chance to get her back.”
“Damn it. This is a sad day all around,” Finnie said.
“Her father–in–law has a busted lip. I’d put money on it that Theo Sullenger gave it to him. Our good pastor was wearing a hand carved cross made out of green wood. It looked new enough that it probably still feels wet to the touch. He lost his old one when they killed Roy and Sissy for sure,” Gideon said.
“Mary and I might be next on their list,” Finnie mused.
“I thought of that too,” Gideon said.
“We might have to keep an eye on them the next time bad weather looks to be coming in,” Finnie said.
“That we might. We certainly don’t have anything to arrest them with right now,” Gideon said.
Chapter 21
The scream in the middle of the night startled Finnie so badly that he nearly pissed himself. He felt for the matches on the nightstand and quickly lit the oil lamp. Mary sat up in bed holding her stomach. Her skin looked pale and her face etched in pain.
“Finnie, somethings wrong. My stomach hurts so bad,” Mary said.
“I’m going to go get Doc right now,” Finnie said before jumping out of bed and pulling on his trousers.
Mary threw back the covers, revealing a pool of blood between her legs. “Oh, God, I think I’m losing the baby.”
Finnie ran out of the saloon and across the street. He slipped and fell in the snow, landing hard before gathering himself and jogging down to the doctor’s office. Pounding on the door and hollering, the seconds seemed like hours as he waited. A lamp soon illuminated through the glass and Doc opened the door in his nightshirt.
“Finnie, what is it?” Doc asked as he rubbed his eye and noticed the snow caked on his friend’s clothing.
“Mary’s bad. Her stomach hurts and she’s hemorrhaging. There’s a lot of blood,” Finnie said.
A moment passed as the doctor deciphered what the Irishman had said in his rapid–fire Irish accent. “Oh, good God. Get back to her and I’ll throw some clothes on and get right over.”
Mary lay clutching her stomach and moaning as Doc entered the bedroom. She gazed up at him and her eyes looked glassy.
“Doc, I hurt bad,” she cr
ied out.
“I’m here now. Let me have a look,” the doctor said as he pulled the cover back.
The pool of blood looked significant, but he told himself that he had seen worse. He removed her undergarment, finding a small piece of tissue in the material and that her hemorrhaging still continued.
“Am I losing the baby?” Mary asked.
“I’m sorry, but yes, you are losing the baby. Sometimes nature aborts damaged fetuses. You’re still young and can try again,” Doc said solemnly.
Mary let out a scream of pain. “Why does it hurt so much?” she whimpered.
“Your body is in upheaval and it causes pain. I’m going to give you some laudanum to ease it,” Doc said, reaching into his bag and producing a bottle of the syrup.
After taking two spoonfuls of the drug, Mary asked, “Am I going to die?”
“No, you’re going to be fine. Where would I drink beer and spread gossip if I didn’t have you and the Last Chance?” Doc said.
The laudanum kicked in and Mary’s eyes slowly drifted shut. The doctor grabbed his stethoscope and checked her breathing and heartbeat while she slept. Satisfied that both sounded good, he sat back and waited.
“How bad is it, Doc?” Finnie asked.
The Irishman had been sitting so quietly in the corner that the doctor had forgotten about him. Doc looked over and for the first time since he met Finnie, his friend looked vulnerable and helpless. A lump formed in the doctor’s throat and he walked over and placed his hand on Finnie’s shoulder.
“She’s still strong, but I tell you, she’s losing too much blood. To be honest, I’m concerned,” Doc said.
“Doc, you’ve got to save her. She’s all I got,” Finnie said.
“I’m doing my best. You know that. We’re a long ways from that,” Doc said.
By three o’clock in the morning, the doctor decided he needed to take action. The bleeding had failed to slow. Mary still slept and he awakened her to give her two more spoonfuls of laudanum. She seemed to be in a fog and said nothing as the doctor explained what he intended to do to her.
Waiting until Mary fell back to sleep, Doc removed two dilators and a curette from his bag along with carbolic acid and a clean towel. First, he washed his hands with the acid and then liberally doused the instruments with the same. Inserting the smaller of the dilators into her, he worked to open her cervix wider. After he completed this procedure, he manipulated the larger dilator into place until satisfied that the opening to the cervix was expanded to his satisfaction. Mary’s only physical reaction was to rapidly blink her eyes. Picking up the curette, he looked the instrument over and inhaled a large breath before beginning his task. Maneuvering the instrument into the uterus, he carefully scraped the walls clean. Mary opened her eyes, but appeared oblivious to the intrusion to her body. As Doc removed the curette, tissue and thick blood oozed out with the tool.
Finnie started gagging and ran out into the hall to catch his breath. He eventually returned, pale in color, and dropped into a chair and as if exhausted.
“Finnie, I’ve done all I can do. The bleeding needs to coagulate or she’s going to bleed to death. All we can do now is keep her comfortable and wait,” Doc said and sat down beside the Irishman.
“How grave is it right now?” Finnie asked.
“I’ll know more in a little while. We’ll see if the procedure begins to help,” Doc said.
“Why would this happen to Mary? She has a heart bigger than us two put together,” Finnie lamented.
A little while later, Doc checked Mary’s breathing and heart again before checking the bleeding. “She’s holding her own and the bleeding might be a little slower,” he said. “We might as well get some rest for a couple of hours.”
The two men dozed off in chairs set side by side and slept for the next couple of hours until awakened by Mary calling out her dead husband’s name.
“Eugene, Eugene, where are you?” Mary called out.
Finnie jumped up and leaned over his wife–to–be. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Eugene, I wondered where you were. Where’s our baby?” she asked.
“It’s asleep in the other room. You need to rest before you hold it,” Finnie said.
“Her name is Claire. Quit calling her an it,” Mary chided.
Doc stood beside Finnie watching Mary. Her eyes had gone from glassy to dull and lifeless and she was clearly delusional.
“Mary, I need to listen to your heart and breathing,” Doc said as he placed his stethoscope on her chest.
After he finished, he pulled the blankets back to examine her.
“You just want a free peek at my privates. Back in my whoring days, I always wondered if you were too cheap or too old to have a go with me,” Mary said.
The doctor smiled at her, but said nothing. She quickly drifted back to sleep and he walked to the window and looked out as dawn settled onto the town.
Finnie walked up beside the doctor. “How is she?’ he asked.
“She’s still bleeding too much and her breathing and heart have begun to weaken. She’s not good. Finnie, this is your decision, but I think if I were you I would go find Gideon as soon as he gets in and have him go get Ethan, Sarah, and Abby. Mary needs all the friends that she has right now,” Doc said.
“You think she’s going to die, don’t you?” Finnie asked.
The doctor took a big breath and rubbed his chin. “I never give up on one of my patients until they’ve breathed their last breath, but if that bleeding does not stop, she is in real trouble.”
Tears spilled out of the eyes of the stout Irishman and he bit his lip as silent sobs racked his body, shaking his whole frame. Doc put his arm around Finnie’s shoulders, but could think of nothing to say. They stayed standing there until the doctor’s exhaustion got the better of him and he sat down in a chair. Finnie remained stationed at the window until he saw Gideon ride by a half–hour later. Grabbing his hat and coat, he walked out of the room.
Gideon stood lighting the stove in the jail. “Good morning my sawed–off little –,” he said before stopping. “What’s the matter?”
“Mary lost the baby and she’s bad. Doc thought that I should ask you to go get Ethan, Sarah, and Abby. He says she needs all the friends that she has,” Finnie said.
Finnie stood in front of Gideon looking smaller than normal and as helpless as a little boy lost in the woods. At a loss on how to comfort his friend, Gideon stood awkwardly frozen in place. Thoughts of losing Mary made him physically weak and he wanted to take a seat.
“I’m sorry, Finnie. Don’t give up. Mary’s a fighter,” Gideon said as he walked over and placed a hand on Finnie’s shoulder.
“Life’s not fair, and for people like Mary, they bear more than their fair share of the burden,” Finnie said.
“I know. I’m going to get going so that I can get back,” Gideon said.
Riding first to see Joann, Gideon dispatched her to go watch Chance. He then headed to Ethan’s cabin. Upon hearing the news, Ethan and Sarah left immediately for town. Zack would remain behind to be on hand for Benjamin’s return from school. Finally, Gideon rode to his cabin. Abby had already saddled her horse after Joann had arrived with the news and the couple rode to town.
Ethan and Sarah stood at the foot of the bed with Finnie standing between them as Gideon and Abby entered the bedroom. Finnie looked as if he would melt away if not for the two people standing shoulder to shoulder against him to prop him up. Doc sat in a chair at Mary’s bedside taking her pulse. She had just gone back to sleep after having given a lively talk interspersed with lucid thoughts and moments of shear confusion. Gideon looked down at Mary and could not get over the fact that she looked so young and helpless. She didn’t look much older than Joann did. All of the spirit that had marched her on through a tragic life looked to be fading away.
“How is she?” Gideon asked as he pulled off his hat.
“The hemorrhaging won’t stop and she’s getting weaker.
She’s in God’s hands now. There’s nothing more that I can do,” Doc answered.
Ethan cleared his throat. “Why don’t we make a semi–circle around her and hold hands while I say a prayer.”
The group of six surrounded the bed and grasped hands.
“Dear Father in Heaven, Mary lies before us sick and in need of your blessings. She is one of the people that makes Last Stand the special place that it is. She may even be the heart of Last Stand and her friends and Finnie are not ready to turn her over to you. We ask that you restore her health and let her live to bring her joy to this world. I know that Heaven would be a richer place with her, but we need this angel in Last Stand. Dear God, I beg you to restore Mary’s health. Amen,” Ethan said.
Mary’s eyes opened and she trained them on Gideon. “Gideon, what are you doing in my bedroom? You’d better not be here for a poke. We can’t do that anymore. You know that you broke my heart, but it’s okay now. I came to realize that we were just supposed to be friends. You and Abby were meant to be together and I don’t know why, but somehow, someway, Finnie and I were meant to be together too. I love that little Irishman,” she said before fading back to sleep.
A mournful sound of grief escaped from Gideon and he looked around the room in embarrassment. A flood of sorrow washed over him so great that he could not contain it and he ran from the room as uncontrollable crying broke free.
Abby followed him out of the room. Her husband had his face smashed against the hall wall and he pounded it with his fists like a toddler throwing a fit as he blubbered indecipherably. In all the years that she had known Gideon, she had never witnessed such an outbreak of shear grief from him. Deciding that it was best to let him get it all out, she waited patiently for him to release all of the pent–up emotion exploding from him.
Gideon finally turned around, using the wall for support to keep himself propped up. He gulped large breaths of air as if suffocating and his finger tingled from hyperventilating. Once able to speak, he said, “Abby, you know that you’re the love of my life. I need you more than anything, but I need Mary in my life too. Back when I returned to Last Stand all shot up and mad at the world, everybody here that cared for me, cared for me because of who I once was except for Sarah and Mary. Those two cared for me even at my worst and because of who they thought I could be without ever having known the old me. I can’t tell you how much that meant to me. Here were two people that probably should have thought that I was a lost cause, but they didn’t. They gave me a reason to believe in myself again. To this day, they make me want to be a better man. I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t have Mary there.”
