“Then I plan to wait until he wakes up.”
“I’ll wait with you,” Smoke said.
“We’ll all wait,” Pearlie said. “That is, if it is all right with you, Tom, uh, I mean, Doctor.”
Tom chuckled. “For that entire cattle drive we made together, you called me Tom. I see no reason for you to change, now.”
“I’ll step outside, I’m sure the others will want to know how Cal is doing,” Dalton offered.
When Dalton stepped out front, there were at least a dozen people waiting. Phil was the first person he saw, so it was to him, that he addressed his remarks.
“Phil, I want to thank you for getting help back to us so quickly. I’m happy to say that my deputy, Cal, is going to be just fine,” he said.
Those gathered around the front of the doctor’s office cheered.
* * *
Half an hour later Becca returned to the front, where Smoke, Sally, Pearlie, Dalton, and Marjane were waiting.
“Cal has come out of anesthesia and Tom says that if you would like to come back and visit for a while, you can do so now.”
All five of them followed Becca to the little room at the back of the doctor’s office. Cal was awake.
“Well now,” Cal said, in a weak voice. “I feel like a king or something, with all of you coming to see me like this.”
“How do you feel?” Sally asked, then she chuckled, nervously. “That’s a silly question. You’ve just been shot, how do I expect you to feel?”
“It don’t hurt none too much,” Cal said.
“It d . . .” Sally said, starting to correct his grammar, but she held back. “Good,” she said, instead, “I’m glad the pain isn’t too severe.”
“Wait until the laudanum wears off, then it’ll hurt like the devil,” Sheriff Peabody said with a little chuckle.
“Papa!” Marjane scolded. “You needn’t be so negative.”
“Well, it won’t hurt none for him to know, so he can be ready for it,” Sheriff Peabody said.
“I’ve been shot before, Miss Marjane,” Cal said. “Your papa speaks the truth.”
“Cal, did you see anything?” Smoke asked. “Do you have any idea who shot you?”
“No idea at all,” Cal said. “One minute I was walking toward the Palace Café, thinking about a good meal, and the next thing I remember is lying on my back, wondering why everyone was staring down at me. I don’t even remember getting shot.”
Smoke glanced over at Tom.
“It’s called traumatic amnesia,” Tom said. “Quite common. Some think that it may be the brain’s way of helping by denying the patient’s memory of such things as severe injury.”
“It’s possible that Cal wasn’t even the target,” Sheriff Peabody said. “Everybody knows that Dalton is now the acting sheriff. The shooter, whoever it was, may have been after him.”
“Yes,” Smoke agreed with a nod. “That could be the case.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The next morning the bright sunlight that fell through the window of the Del Rey Hotel pushed away the shadows and awakened Smoke. He looked over at Sally, who was still asleep. She had had a very difficult time getting to sleep last night because she was worried about Cal.
“You heard what Tom said. He said Cal was doing well,” Smoke had told her in an attempt to comfort her.
“I know he did, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying about him.”
“Worry if you must, but try and set it aside at least long enough for you to get some sleep.”
That discussion had taken place at about one in the morning. Smoke had no idea what time it was now, but from the angle of the light, he surmised that it was at least six, and perhaps even a little later than that.
A slight morning breeze filled the muslin curtains and lifted them out over the wide-beamed planking in the floor. Moving quietly, so as not to awaken Sally, Smoke got out of bed. A moment later, standing at the window, he looked out over the town, which was beginning to awaken.
Just down the street he could hear the ring of steel on steel as the blacksmith was already at work. Water was being heated behind the laundry, and boxes were being stacked behind the grocery store. A team of four big horses pulled a fully loaded freight wagon down the main street. From somewhere Smoke could smell bacon frying, and his stomach growled, reminding him that he was hungry.
“Uhmm, I didn’t hear you get up,” Sally said from the bed, her voice thick with sleep.
“I didn’t want you to hear me. I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“You didn’t wake me.” Sally stretched and smiled at Smoke, who was looking over at her. “What are you looking at?”
Smoke chuckled. “Sally, ending a sentence with ’at’? Haven’t you spent all the years of our married life teaching me the perils of ending a sentence with a preposition?”
“I’m sorry,” Sally said, her smile broadening. “At what are you looking?”
“A beautiful woman who can often be a pain in the ass,” Smoke replied with a little laugh. “But I find myself hopelessly in love with her anyway.”
“I meant out on the street,” Sally said.
“Yes, I meant that as well,” Smoke teased.
“Oh, my, I hope there isn’t a beautiful woman out there who has caught your fancy.”
Smoke looked out onto the street again. “Oh, she’s gone now,” he teased.
“You’re a nut,” Sally said, laughing. “I can smell bacon cooking, and it’s making me hungry.”
“Good, I was hoping you would say that.”
As Sally was getting dressed, Smoke splashed some water in the basin, washed his face and hands, then strapped on his gun, put on his hat, and sat down to wait for Sally to get ready.
* * *
Pearlie had spent the night at the doctor’s office, stretched out on a hard canvas cot, sleeping in the same room as Cal and Sheriff Peabody. When he woke up the next morning, both Cal and the sheriff were snoring.
“You’ll need to keep an eye on the wound, to make certain infection doesn’t set in,” Tom had told him last night. “Look for swelling, redness, red streaks coming from the wound, or drainage of pus from the wound.”
Pearlie examined the wound closely, and found none of the visual signs. Tom also suggested that a fever might be indicative of infection, so he lay the back of his hand on Cal’s cheek.
“Damn, Pearlie, you aren’t planning on kissing me too, are you?” Cal asked before he opened his eyes.
“I’d sooner kiss a mule’s ass,” Pearlie replied. Then he chuckled. “On second thought, that would be about the same thing.”
“So, what about it? Is infection setting in?”
“Aha, so you do know what I was doing.”
“I heard Tom telling you what to look for. How’m I doing?
“From all that I can tell, I’d say you’re doing pretty damn well. You aren’t in a great deal of pain, are you?”
“Well, it does hurt, but I don’t know what you mean by a great deal of pain. I wouldn’t say that.”
“Good! That means I can pronounce you on the way to recovery.”
Cal chuckled. “Thank you, Dr. Pearlie. Now, does the doctor have any idea as to when his patient is going to get something to eat?”
“I’ll bring you some breakfast,” Pearlie promised.
“While you’re doin’ the fetchin’ ’n carryin’, I would be just real grateful if you would bring me some breakfast too,” Sheriff Peabody asked. “Bacon ’n a hard fried egg on a biscuit would suit me just fine.”
“I reckon a couple of those would suit me as well,” Cal said.
“All right, but I plan to eat my own breakfast first,” Pearlie called back to them. He met Tom and Becca just as he was about to leave.
“How are the patients doing?” Tom asked.
“They’re both doin’ all right, I reckon. They slept quiet, that is if you call snoring like a steam-powered saw quiet. And they’re both hungry. I was just goin�
�� for breakfast my ownself. Can I get somethin’ for you two?”
“What did the patients order?” Tom asked
“Bacon and egg on a biscuit.”
“Sounds like it’ll be fine,” Tom replied. “Nurse, would you like to help me with the new dressing?”
“I’ll be glad to, Doctor,” Becca replied.
“Nurse? Doctor? Damn, that sounds like you two don’t even know each other,” Pearlie teased.
“It’s better that way,” Tom replied. “It keeps us professional, when we need to be.”
“Pearlie, what are you doin’ standin’ out there gabbing?” Cal called from the back. “You could have already eaten your own breakfast and had ours back here, by now.”
“Aw, quit your grumbling,” Pearlie called back.
Rebecca laughed. “Doctor, I would say that the patient is doing fine.”
“I do believe you are right,” Tom replied, and as he and Becca started toward the back of the office, Pearlie let himself out.
By the time he reached the Palace Café, Smoke and Sally were already enjoying a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and fried potatoes.
“Pearlie, how’s Cal doing?” Sally asked, anxiously.
“He says it’s sore where the bullet went in, but other than that he’s feeling pretty chipper. Oh, and he’s hungry.”
“Hungry? Oh, that’s a good sign,” Sally said.
“Not necessarily. From what I know of Cal, he’ll still be hungry two weeks after he’s dead,” Smoke joked.
“Oh, Smoke, please don’t joke about a thing like that,” Sally said, disquieted by Smoke’s joke.
“You’re right. That was sort of insensitive, wasn’t it? Sorry.”
The waiter approached Pearlie then, holding a small tablet. “Do you wish to order, sir?”
“Yes, I’ll have four eggs, four pieces of bacon, a couple of patties of sausage, a side of grits, two biscuits, and a stack of pancakes. Oh, and four bacon and egg and biscuit sandwiches.”
“Would you like a table in the kitchen next to the cook range, sir? I’m sure it would be much more efficient for you,” the waiter asked.
Smoke laughed. “Don’t ask him that, he may take you up on the offer.”
“Smoke, who do you think shot Cal?” Pearlie asked. “We don’t even know anybody here, so it can’t be someone who is our enemy.”
“We don’t know anybody, but people certainly know about us now,” Smoke said, “especially since the attempted stagecoach robbery that failed. I wouldn’t be surprised if this man, Lanagan, didn’t have something to do with it.”
“You reckon Lanagan came into town just to shoot Cal?”
“Oh, I doubt Lanagan himself came into town. I think there are too many people who would recognize him on sight. But, I’m sure he was behind the attack, perhaps directing one of his people to make the effort.”
“But why Cal?”
“Oh, it wasn’t Cal in particular. It could have been any of us,” Smoke replied. “I’m sure that Cal just happened to be the target of the moment. Whoever did the shooting saw Cal and decided to take advantage of it.”
The waiter brought Pearlie’s order, then spread it out on the table in front of him.
“Oh, I didn’t tell you, keep these four sausage, egg, and biscuit sandwiches warm for me until I leave. I’ll be taking them with me,” Pearlie said.
“Oh, that’s a very good idea, sir,” the waiter replied. “You certainly wouldn’t want to take a chance on getting hungry before lunch, now would you?”
Sally laughed out loud. “Pearlie, I do believe the waiter has figured you out.”
* * *
After breakfast Smoke and Sally accompanied Pearlie back to the doctor’s office to deliver the sausage and egg sandwiches. The two men were sitting on the edge of their beds, with a small table between them.
“What do you say, Sheriff?” Cal asked. “It’s up to you now, are you goin’ to call me, or fold?”
Sheriff Peabody examined the cards in his hand. He and Cal, both recuperating from gunshot wounds, were now engaged in a two-handed game of seven-card stud, the cards laid out on the small table that separated the beds.
“How are you doing, Cal?”
“I’m doing great, I’m about to bankrupt the sheriff here. I’ve already won fifteen cents.”
Smoke chuckled. “It looks to me like you two are in a pretty high-stakes game here.”
“Watch me clean him out with this hand,” Cal said.
Cal had a pair of aces showing, Peabody had a pair of jacks showing, and one of his sevens showing was backed up by another seven in his hold.
“I’m goin’ to raise you by a nickel,” Peabody said.
“You want me to think you have those jacks backed up, do you?” Cal asked as he examined his hole cards again. The pair of aces he had showing represented his entire hand.
“All right, I call. What have you got?”
“Two pair, jacks and sevens,” the sheriff said, turning up his hole card, which was also a seven.
“Damn, you did have them backed up. Beats my aces,” Pearlie replied.
“If you folks are just going to sit around and play cards, you won’t mind if I eat your breakfast,” Pearlie said.
“Don’t even try,” Cal replied. “Bullet wound or no, I’ll come after you.”
Pearlie put the four biscuit sandwiches on the table.
“Cal, when we talked last night you couldn’t remember anything about what happened to you. Has your memory returned?” Smoke asked.
“No, sir, I don’t remember a damn thing,” Cal replied. “Oh, sorry for the cussin’, Miz Sally and Miz Whitman.”
“That’s all right,” Sally said. “After what happened to you, I suppose you have every right to express your frustration in such a way.”
“It was Clete Lanagan,” Sheriff Peabody said.
“How do you know?” Smoke asked.
“Oh, he may not have been the one who actually shot Cal, but whoever it was that pulled the trigger did so because Lanagan wanted it done.”
“Hmm, that’s just what you were saying, Smoke,” Pearlie said. “It looks like you are right.”
“You saw the shooter?” Sheriff Peabody asked.
“No,” Smoke said. “Like you, I just made a supposition.”
* * *
“I just earned myself five hunnert dollars,” Slater said when he returned to the outlaw camp the next morning.
“What do you mean, you earned yourself five hunnert dollars? What did you do?” Lanagan asked.
“You offered five hunnert dollars apiece for killin’ them two men that was with Smoke Jensen whenever you tried to hold up the stagecoach, didn’t you? Well, sir, I got one of ’em. I shot ’im last night.”
“How do you know he was one of ’em?” Lanagan asked.
“On account of I was in the Blanket and Saddle when the deputy ’n this feller come in. MacMurtry told us that them two that runs with Smoke was called Cal ’n Pearlie, didn’t he? Well sir, the feller I kilt was called Cal by them that was in the saloon. ’N also, they was talkin’ about the stagecoach robbery.”
“You shot ’im there, in the saloon?” Lanagan asked.
“No, I didn’t shoot ’im there. Hell, I didn’t even say nothin’ to ’im there. Mostly what I done is, I just listened to ’em talk, ’n that’s how I learnt that they was goin’ to have their supper down to the Palace Café. So, I just waited halfway between the saloon ’n the café, ’n when him ’n the deputy come by, I shot ’im.”
“Did you shoot the deputy too?” Lanagan asked.
“No, I just shot the Cal feller.”
“You shoulda shot the deputy too.”
“You didn’t say nothin’ ’bout shootin’ the deputy too. ’N you didn’t offer no reward for killin’ him neither. Onliest ones you’ve offered the rewards for is Smoke Jensen, ’n them two fellers, Pearlie and Cal. MacMurtry says he’s goin’ to kill Jensen, ’n me ’n MacMurtry have it worked out t
hat I’m goin’ to kill the other two fellers, Pearlie ’n Cal. ’N I done got a start on that, cause Cal, he’s the one I shot.”
“Did you kill ’im?”
“Yeah, I kilt ’im.”
“How do you know, for sure? Did you stay there ’n check up on ’im?”
“Nah, I didn’t have to. After I shot ’im, I went back to the saloon so’s that nobody would think I’m the one that done it. ’N while I was there, someone come runnin’ into the saloon sayin’ that Cal was kilt. So, after that, I left. Oh, ’n I got some more news for you too.”
“What news would that be?”
“Well, sir, it seems that the deputy in town, the one that’s actin’ as the sheriff now, ain’t been able to raise a posse.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard ’em talkin’ about it in the saloon. He’s been tryin’ to get a posse up, but there won’t nobody go with ’im.”
“Yeah, well, the way them three men that was in the stagecoach handled themselves, that’s more ’n likely all the posse Conyers would need,” Lanagan said.
“That might be so if they was actual three of ’em left. But they ain’t three men no more, seein’ as I kilt one of ’em last night,” Slater said.
“Except you don’t know for sure whether you kilt ’im or not, do you? I mean you said yourself that you didn’t actual see him dead. All you got is that someone come into the saloon ’n said that he had been kilt, but sometimes people just get excited ’n they talk about somethin’ whether they know if it’s true or not.”
“The way he went down when I shot ’im, I’d be willin’ to bet that he’s deader ’n a doornail, now.”
“I would like to know for sure.”
“Hey, Lanagan, maybe a couple of us ought to go to town to see if he really was kilt,” Bo Higgins suggested. “They ain’t nobody in town that’s ever seen me before.”
“Ain’t nobody in town ever seen me before, neither,” Jay Garland said. “Me ’n Higgins could find out for sure, for you.”
“All right, you two go into town ’n see what’s goin’ on,” Lanagan ordered.
Garland and Higgins looked at each other and smiled.
“Yes, sir!” Higgins said.
“But remember, you’re going in town to find out some information, you ain’t going in town to pleasure the women.”
Torture of the Mountain Man Page 22