“We’re gonna have to dig that bullet out,” Huckabee said.
With a groan, Pa pushed forward off the back of the chair. He wavered as he sat there catching his breath, then brought one hand to Nate’s shoulder and weakly tugged him in close. Pa rested his forehead against Nate’s. His eyes were closed, and his face wrinkled with the awful pain he must have been feeling.
Pa’s eyes rolled up, and he straightened a mite and looked into Nate’s teary baby blues. “I ain’t plannin’ on leavin’ ya, boy. I’m just in a bad way right now. Jesse and the marshal will have to fix me up. I can’t ride while leakin’ this much blood.” Pa fell a few inches against the chair back.
Jesse grabbed Pa’s shoulder, keeping him from falling sideways out of his seat.
“Partner, you go on outside while the marshal and I patch up your Pa.” Jesse gave Nate a slight shove toward the door.
Nate didn’t want to leave Pa’s side, but he wouldn’t argue. That would just waste time. Time Pa didn’t look like he had to spend.
Jesse slipped an arm under one of Pa’s shoulders while the marshal did the same on the other side, and they lifted him out of the chair. Pa’s head dangled, his hat fell off, and his feet dragged along the floorboards as they carried him to the bar where, together, they heaved and got him situated lying flat on top.
Nate couldn’t stop staring. His feet had rooted to the floor where Pa’s blood trail started. He now lay like a gray corpse on the bar top, and his arms hung limply over the sides. His feet rested in an outward floppy position, and the rise and fall of his chest could barely be seen. The sight of Pa looking so much like death petrified Nate.
“Jesse!” he wailed.
“Git him outta here!” Wetness glistened in Jesse’s eyes as he snapped at Kristy.
She snatched Nate’s hand, yanking him toward the door. He twisted around in her grip, looking back at Pa as she dragged him outside. She scooped Nate up into her arms and then plopped down on the end of a long bench. The other ladies filed out and sat down one at a time in a row along the same bench where he and Kristy sat.
A blood-curdling yell exploded through the door that Nate recognized as Pa. It jolted them all to their feet. No one took a breath.
“Kristy, git in here. We need help.”
Nate choked, unable to draw air into his lungs.
Kristy threw him at a dark-haired young lady that he didn’t know. “Don’t let him come in.” She ran inside. One of the other ladies followed on her heels.
“I want my pa!” Nate howled.
Pa’s pain-filled holler mercilessly squeezed the air out of Nate once again. He jerked and twisted, but the dark-haired girl wasn’t letting loose. He briefly thought about biting her hand or kicking her a good shot on the shin, but she wasn’t the bad guy. She hadn’t hurt Pa, nor was she really doing any harm to Nate. He just wanted to be held by his father, but that couldn’t happen.
Nate crumpled into a ball and rocked himself.
CHAPTER 20
The woman who’d been holding to him was now standing at the swinging door, peering in over the top. Her face stiffened, and she lost all color. The other lady returned to the bench, and her face was buried in her hands as she cried. Nate felt all alone. The people he loved were inside, and he was stuck outside with strangers. It wasn’t where he wished to be. Though, he was kind of afraid to see what was actually going on in there. Was Pa bleeding out? Did Jesse, Huckabee, or Kristy know enough about bullet wounds to save him?
“Nathanial.” The soft, tender, quivery voice came out of the dark somewhere behind him, and Nate glanced over his shoulder. The pale moonlight cast a haze around Hattie. Her body was shaking, and her eyes were bloodshot.
Nate uncurled, slowing getting to his feet, and they hugged, holding one another tight for a long time. With all the killing and Pa getting shot, he had forgotten about her.
She gently pulled back from him. “What’s going on? Jesse said he’d be back for me, but he never came. I got scared during all that shooting. Then it stopped, but Jesse still didn’t come.”
Nate wiped at his eyes. “Pa got shot. Jesse’s in there tryin’ to save him. Kristy’s inside too, lendin’ a hand.”
Hattie grinned at the news that her big sister was alive. Yet as she studied Nate’s tear-streaked face, she sobered. “I hope your pa will be okay.” She handed Nate’s star back to him.
He pinned the badge on his shirt. Somehow it made him feel closer to his father. “They won’t let me in to see, and no one’s told me anything about what’s goin’ on in there.” Nate shivered. He couldn’t recall a time when Pa had ever been hurt so badly.
Hattie glanced between the two women. Nate’s gaze followed. The one was still sobbing into her hands, completely oblivious to Hattie’s appearance. The other one’s back was facing them, as she was focused on the grim scene inside.
Pa wasn’t screaming anymore. That could only mean one of two things. He’d passed out or … Nate hated to think that his father might have bled out. Strained voices floated out now and then, but no word came of Pa’s condition. Nate only knew it wasn’t good.
Hattie hastily took his hand, and before he realized what was happening, the two of them slipped into the dark around the side of the building and stood at the back door, which was wide open. From where he stood just outside, Pa’s legs were visible. It didn’t seem that he had moved since Nate had last seen him. Together, Hattie holding his hand, they stepped in but stayed out of the way. Nate didn’t want to be noticed and once again be told to leave. Hattie’s tight grip on his hand made him feel a little bit brave, though not brave enough to stop shaking all over.
There was a pile of blood-soaked rags at Kristy’s feet, and she used long tweezers to fish around inside the hole in Pa. Blood squirted out onto the front of Kristy’s dress, but she kept working and never batted an eye, hands covered in red. Pa must have passed out. He wasn’t fighting the pain, and what Kristy was doing had to hurt.
Nate’s side ached just watching, and he glanced away for a second or two, breathed deeply, then refocused. Even with Pa lying limp, Jesse had his weight over his shoulders, and Huckabee was over his legs. The dark-haired lady who was supposed to be watching him now held a basin of water and sponged the blood away while Kristy did her best to save Pa.
“Got it.” Kristy tossed aside the lead ball.
It rolled over the floorboards and stopped at Nate’s boot toe. He stared at the small, round, bloody hunk of lead. How could something so small and simple-looking be powerful enough to rob a man of his life? He picked up the bullet that had torn into his father and sullenly regarded it.
“Hurry up and get him stitched,” Huckabee snapped.
Nate shoved the lead into his pocket.
Kristy worked feverishly, though her hands were good and steady. A few minutes later, Jesse held Pa under the arms and the marshal took him by the legs, and they carried his limp body slowly up the stairs. Pa never opened his eyes. With all that jostling, although they’d been gentle, he should have come awake.
Nate didn’t care if he got yelled at. He followed.
Pa was eased onto a bed. Jesse stayed knelt beside him, maybe silently praying. It was certainly what Nate was doing. Kristy covered Pa with blankets. Marshal Huckabee flopped down hard into a chair that was stationed in a corner near a tall dresser that held a porcelain water bowl and pitcher. He ran his fingers through his hair, then shoved his hat back down on his head and let out a heavy sigh that they all understood. They had been through the wringer, and not one of them felt good about where this day had ended.
Jesse’s head was bowed. He sniffled, and seeing tears on that tough guy’s cheeks made Nate cry. Nate knelt next to Jesse at Pa’s beside. Together they could fight through anything and would. Pa just had to live. It wasn’t his time to go. Both Nate and Jesse needed him, loved him. They didn’t want to let him go. Pa was a tough man, tough as they came. He’d beat this, and Nate and Jesse would be right there helping h
im.
A shadow fell over Nate. He looked up as the marshal placed a hand on Jesse’s shoulder and gave a squeeze. Jesse looked up.
“Son, I know you’re upset. I am too. But we still have a job to do.” A slow grin spread across Huckabee’s face. “I know Nolan. He’d want you to focus on keepin’ these women safe and seein’ to his boy.”
To Nate, it sounded just like something Pa would say. Jesse must have recognized that too because he wiped a sleeve across his wet face. Nate had never seen Jesse cry that hard. It scared him, and he clung to Jesse’s arm.
Marshal Huckabee fed shells into his revolver. “We don’t know where or to whom these women were to be sold. When they don’t show up, whoever’s in cahoots with the dead fellas downstairs might come huntin’ for trouble.”
At that, Jesse pillared up like a brick wall, inadvertently carrying Nate with him. Jesse followed Huckabee’s lead and reloaded his Winchester. Kristy gasped at the mention of there being more fighting.
Nate tugged on Jesse’s sleeve. “Why can’t we just take Pa home?” He had seen a wagon near the barn, and he wanted to be where Ma could take care of both him and Pa. He didn’t want to run away anymore.
“If we try to move your pa, it’ll kill him. It’s too far to travel in the shape he’s in. He’ll need at least a few days to rest and heal some before we try,” Jesse said grimly, then turned to follow Huckabee out the door.
Before he could go, Nate caught hold of his hand and held him there.
“I love you.” Nate needed to say those words as much as he suspected Jesse needed to hear them.
Jesse grinned and winked. “Ditto.” He squatted in front of Nate while gently peeling his hands away. “The marshal and I have plannin’ to do, and we need to bury them fellas we killed. You stay here and keep an eye on your pa. I’ll only be a holler away.”
He must have sensed Nate’s insecurity by how tight he’d been holding to him. He didn’t want Jesse out of his sight.
“I won’t let anything happen to ya, partner. You know as well as I do, though, that I got a job to do. Huckabee’s right. Your pa wouldn’t want me to forget my duties.”
Nate nodded.
When Jesse had gone, Nate touched at his badge, thinking of the moment Pa had pinned it on him. He glanced at his father and felt lost without hearing the man’s voice.
Kristy lifted Nate’s chin. “I’ll fetch some water. Let’s see if we can get him to drink something.”
At Kristy’s persistent urging, Pa’s eyes rolled up. Nate hovered, and Pa gave him a weary sort of grin. It was enough to give Nate some confidence that Pa was hanging in there. He drank each time Kristy lifted the cup to his lips. After a few minutes, he closed his eyes and slept.
“Why don’t you try to get some sleep? Hattie’s in the next room if you’d like to go over there,” Kristy said in a motherly tone.
Nate shook his head. He didn’t think he’d sleep at all, too worried about Pa, but he did nod off.
When he opened his eyes and sat up, the pink of morning lit the sky, and Kristy was sponging Pa’s head. Nate was stiff from sleeping on the floor. Kristy or someone had covered him with a blanket, and he pushed it off as he sat up.
A few minutes later, Jesse showed up in the doorway. His gaze fell all over Pa, who was soundly sleeping. The rise and fall of his chest seemed stronger to Nate than it had hours ago before he had fallen asleep.
Jesse went to the window. The trail into town could be clearly seen from there. He and the marshal were cautious men. At the moment, they were responsible for many lives, and probably neither would let his guard down. Not until they had all returned safely to Gray Rock.
Kristy wrung a towel in her hands. “How many do you think will come?” Her voice shook.
None of them knew for sure that anyone would show up, but it made sense that someone would. After all, five men had been killed there. Plus, the man in the red shirt had been killed back at the cabin. Jesse had taken one down during the gun battle in the woods when Nate had rescued Hattie. That was seven dead. Someone would miss them. It was sensible to think it might be the person waiting to buy the girls. Why wouldn’t he come hunting his goods? And who was to say he wouldn’t bring some men willing to fight for a price?
Nate stared at Pa, who needed all his strength for healing. He wasn’t in any shape to fight for anything but his life. Nate sniffled.
Jesse turned and looked at him. “I need your help. Come on.” He headed out the door, and Nate obediently followed.
Pa was asleep, so Nate reckoned he was okay leaving his side. Besides, he needed to do something other than worry.
At the bottom of the stairs at the window stood Marshal Huckabee, eyes circled in darkness. The man obviously hadn’t slept a wink.
“How’s Nolan doin’?” The marshal glanced toward the room upstairs.
“He’s still asleep.” Jesse pushed through the door with Nate on his heels.
They headed into the barn. Chickens, six, seven of them, scratched and pecked around the dirt floor. Jesse grabbed one of the squawking things, pulled his knife, and off flew the bird’s head.
“Get another one.”
Nate did as he’d been told and tackled the bird closest to him. It flogged its wings and pecked the heck out of his hands. The stupid thing screeched, and soon, all the chickens were yelling. Nate fought down the bird’s wings. Feathers flew into the air along with lots of dust off the dirt floor. It took a few minutes of rolling around with the dumb bird and he got a few more hard pecks, but finally, the clucking hen was tucked under one arm like a ball.
Jesse handed Nate his knife. Nate hesitated, though not because he was afraid of killing the chicken. At home, he used a stump, then chopped the head off with a hatchet. He’d just watched Jesse slice a throat with one swipe of his blade. Nate still wasn’t so sure he could do it that way. He had a pocket flip blade that Pa had given him, but it wasn’t as long or sharp as this pig sticker of Jesse’s.
“Lay the chicken on the floor, but keep your knee pressed into him so he can’t get away.”
Nate intently listened and did precisely as instructed, though the chicken was not cooperating very well and Nate was getting scratched.
“Now, stretch his neck out and give it a hard whack with that knife.” Jesse didn’t move to help. He was teaching him how it was done. Nate was expected to try. If he failed, then Jesse would show him exactly how and finish the job.
Nate swung his arm and hacked down on the chicken’s neck, cutting off its squawking.
Jesse picked up the dead bird, holding both headless hens by their skinny legs. Blood dripped out of their necks. “You look around for eggs. I’ll gut these.”
Nate rooted in the hay and looked everywhere inside the barn that he thought a chicken might lay. After ten minutes of hunting around, he ended up emptyhanded. He found Jesse outside, cleaning the birds.
“Here.” Jesse handed him the raw meat still covered with feathers. “Take those inside to the ladies. I’ll be in shortly.”
“Where ya goin’?” Some sense was telling Nate that Jesse was leaving. He was going after the fight before it came to them. Pa had done that a few times, and Jesse was too much like him.
Jesse spun Nate around toward the building everyone else was holed up in and gave him a hard swat on the bottom to go on. “Don’t you follow me. I’ll whip the hide right off your behind.”
Nate shot off running, his face burning red. Pa was near death, and now Jesse was going to go off hunting trouble. The kind of trouble that could get him killed. Nate burst through the swinging doors.
The marshal caught him by the arm. “What’s wrong?”
“I think Jesse’s gonna go searchin’ for whoever’s waitin’ for these women to show up. You gotta stop him.” It was bad enough that Nate might lose Pa. He couldn’t lose Jesse too. What if there were a lot of bad guys?
The marshal straightened, then looked out the window at Jesse who was on his horse. Huckabee n
odded. Jesse tipped his hat, spurred his horse, and left along the same path that Nate had come into town only last evening, which felt like a lifetime ago. So many things had changed since then, and not for the better. Nate didn’t want anything else bad to happen, especially to Jesse.
“You shouldn’t have let him go!” Nate was about to pitch a fit. He hoofed a chair, which rocked for a second or two.
Two of the ladies were standing at a potbelly stove in the corner opposite the bar. One was wiping out a frying pan. The other was stuffing the stove with kindling. Hattie and the third lady were playing a solemn game of cards, in which neither looked all that interested. Everyone stopped and stared all wide-eyed at him, so he kicked the chair again. This time, it fell over.
He didn’t care what any of them thought. His father might not live another hour, and Jesse, who was the next best thing to that man lying in the bed upstairs, had left Nate. Not that the marshal couldn’t take care of things there, but that wasn’t who Nate wanted.
“You’re the marshal, the boss. You could have ordered him to stay!” With one mighty swing, Nate chucked those chickens across the room.
Hattie and the lady with her ducked in their seats as the birds whipped by.
“Nathanial! What are you doing?” Kristy stood on the steps with her hands fisted on her hips, looking too much like Ma. “Go pick up those birds.”
He stomped a foot and stood his ground.
The marshal cleared his throat. “Boy, do as the young lady says. I know your pa wouldn’t put up with this kind of behavior, and I doubt he’d mind if I give ya a lickin’.”
Nate marched over to where the headless chickens lay and begrudgingly snatched them off the floor. Huckabee raised his chin toward the ladies at the stove. Nate handed over the birds, then headed for the stairs to go check on Pa.
Huckabee stepped in front of him. Nate looked up. The marshal didn’t look happy, and Nate had an awful feeling he was about to get that licking.
“We need to have a talk.” The marshal jerked his head toward the door. Nate went with the marshal, mean tears in his eyes. “Have a seat,” Huckabee barked.
Nathanial Page 17
