The Return of Elliott Eastman

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The Return of Elliott Eastman Page 25

by Ryan, Ignatius


  “You don’t want to turn them in?”

  “Nope, that’ll just be more unwanted publicity.”

  Gordon poured a little water from his canteen on the faces of the prone men and nudged them with the toe of his boot. They slowly came around.

  “Greer, you alright?” Elliott asked.

  “Aside from being lonely and half blind, I’m fine.”

  Elliott laughed out loud. “Sorry, Greer, I beg your forgiveness.”

  “You’re forgiven. I’ll head back to the ranch and get the Jeep to pick you up, Mr. E.”

  “Thank you Greer.”

  Elliott watched as the three assassins removed their boots and began to hobble away through the dirt.

  “Do you gents want to come back to the house for a drink?” Elliott asked.

  “That sounds downright outstanding,” Jim responded instantly.

  The four men had several nightcaps and then Jim said, “We’d better get moving. We’re gonna break camp and be out of here tomorrow. We’re heading back to the big city. I can’t imagine they’ll try anything else.”

  “I doubt it,” Elliott said and shook hands with both men. “Have a safe trip and thanks again. Greer and I owe you. See you later.”

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Exasperation didn’t describe half of what Stephanie was feeling. First her flight was delayed six hours and then after they were in flight they were diverted around a sizable storm cell and landed in Akron, Ohio to wait it out. Ten hours later they were finally in the air again. She tried to read her book, but couldn’t focus. Her thoughts kept returning to Elliott. She knew something was terribly wrong. He was one of the most honest and honorable men she’d ever known and yet he had lied to her. He’d promised to call when he was in DC and hadn’t. And if he was giving a speech of that magnitude, one witnessed by millions across the nation and around the globe, he had to have known weeks in advance and could have called her if he wished to do so. She knew he still loved her. A woman sensed these things. His voice softened noticeably when he spoke to her and he would listen intently to the least important little thing she might have to say. Smiling she folded the page in her book, closed it and set it in her lap thinking back on their first night together. They’d eaten dinner and were working late at his office on the first draft of a bill when she reached across the table and squeezed his hand. He looked up and she said, “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll call it a night, but it’s snowing quite heavily out there. Would you mind giving me a ride home?”

  “No problem,” Elliott said.

  The drive was difficult with a number of cars spun out along the road. When they finally reached her condo he walked her to the door, shook her hand and was turning to go when she said, “Elliott?”

  He turned back to face her and she boldly stepped closer to him, took his face in her hands and kissed him full on the mouth. It was a long kiss and she pressed her body against his. When the kiss ended both of them were breathing heavily. She said breathlessly, “I like that.”

  Elliott replied, “Me too.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him again, but this time she slipped a hand behind his head and he wrapped his arms around her waist. When they separated she’d said, “You must come in.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  Stephanie merely laughed, took his hand and led him into the condo.

  The plane hit some turbulence and woke her from her reveries. She read a bit more and dozed fitfully until the aircraft landed at 3:00 in the afternoon. After arranging for a car, Stephanie found herself at the sprawling ranch house shortly before six o’clock. She pulled to a stop and climbed out, put a hand over her eyes shielding her view against the setting sun and studied the house. Not a sound issued from the enormous river rock building. The barn and corrals off to her left looked deserted, and the eight car garage to her right looked just the same. A dust devil formed and swirled across the vast expanse of the graveled parking area and then petered out. Scanning her surroundings she made her way across the gravel drive, up the front porch steps and rang the doorbell. There was no response. She rang the bell several more times and finally circled around to the rear of the house. The French doors to the master bedroom were slightly ajar. Stephanie noted the damage to the doors and the missing glass panes and her pulse quickened. After hesitating a moment she pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

  “Elliott, Greer?” she said softly. As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkened room she saw a body sized lump on the bed. Stepping closer she made out Elliott’s pained features.

  “Elliott?” she said softly.

  There was no response.

  “Elliott?” she said again a little louder and he stirred slightly.

  She noted a glistening sheen of sweat on his forehead, reached over and pressed a hand against his cheek. He was burning up with fever.

  “Elliott,” she said louder now and he opened his eyes. “You’ve got a very high fever.”

  Even though he appeared to be disoriented he said, “Stephanie, what are you doing here? I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  “I’ll see a lot more of you in a minute. You get out of those clothes while I fill the tub with cool water. We need to get your core body temperature down.”

  She filled the tub and came back out to find him just as she had left him.

  “Okay big fella, we’re going to wrestle you out of those clothes.”

  She pulled off his shoes and pants and was working on his shirt when she noticed the plastic bag hanging at his waist. Retreating to the bath she gathered a wad of toilet paper together and removing the bag applied the paper over the wound.

  ‘Here’s the hard part’ she said to herself as she hauled off and slapped him across the face as hard as she could.

  “Hey, what … ?” Elliott mumbled.

  “Sorry honey, but we need to get you up,” Stephanie said pulling on his arms for all she was worth.

  Elliott slid around in bed until his feet hit the floor.

  “Okay, okay, I’m up.”

  She managed to guide him to the bath where she maneuvered him into the tub. Elliott sighed as the lukewarm waters closed over him.

  With loving hands Stephanie applied a washcloth to his fevered brow and gently washed the wound in his side.

  While he rested in the cooling waters Stephanie went in search of aspirin, a proven fever reducer.

  An hour later they were sitting on the back porch, Elliott in a white cotton robe and Stephanie in blue jean cut offs and a tee shirt. The sun was going down and a cool breeze wafted across the deck. Elliott was feeling much better sipping a scotch and water and Stephanie was enjoying a glass of white wine.

  “It was a marvelous speech, Elliott.”

  “Thanks, it seems to have created quite a stir.”

  Stephanie laughed. “That’s the understatement of the year. This morning’s Wall Street Journal called it a long overdue tongue lashing.”

  Elliott smiled. “I did get a little carried away at times and strayed from the material I had prepared.”

  “It worked. You do know that the bill was signed by the President this morning?”

  “Yes, he called me shortly after he signed it and seemed, in a word, ecstatic.”

  “I should think he would be overjoyed. It virtually guarantees him a second term. His approval rating is in the high 80’s.”

  “He’s a good man in a tough job. I hope he wins.”

  Stephanie studied Elliott’s face. He had aged greatly in the five years since she’d last seen him. It saddened her and she turned away to take in the panoramic view. Swallows dipped over the pond catching insects and cattle grazed in the meadow beyond. The sun was slowly setting behind the snow clad crags of Mount Lincoln which dominated the horizon. It is so peaceful, she thought.

  “I love it here,” she said suddenly.

  “Me too,” Elliott agreed.

  “Why did you not tell me you were coming to DC to give the sp
eech? You had to know weeks in advance. Do you not want to see me?” Stephanie asked, unable to keep the hurt from her voice.

  “No, it’s not that. It’s not that at all.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

  “Like what? You look fine. I’m sure we have both aged a bit.”

  Elliott glanced over at her and their eyes met and then his gaze hardened and he pulled the toupee from his head.

  Stephanie attempted to stifle a sudden intake of breathe.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Cancer.”

  “What kind? What are they doing for it?”

  “It’s lymphoma and bone cancer. Dr. Yates has done all he can.”

  For a moment Stephanie was speechless and then she felt hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she whispered, “How long do you have?”

  “Dr. Yates gave me maybe two weeks. He’s says I’ll go downhill very fast towards the end,” Elliott answered in a leaden tone.

  With a sob Stephanie stood and crossed the space between them in two strides and began kissing his face, cheeks, neck and lips.

  “Whoa, whoa there woman, I’m not dead yet,” Elliott said chuckling, grasping her shoulders and holding her at arms length.

  At that moment Greer stepped out on the deck and caught the last of the exchange between the two. He could readily see that Stephanie had been crying.

  “Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Wells. I saw the car in the yard and thought I should check on Mr. E.”

  “I understand Greer. Now get over here and give me a hug.”

  Greer embraced her briefly and then continued, “I was going to run into town and get some supplies and I thought I might stop in at the Rawhide Saloon and tip a few with the other wranglers. I might not be back tonight if that’s okay with you boss.”

  “As you wish, Greer.”

  The ranch hand tipped his hat to the two of them and said, “I’ll be seeing you.”

  Once Greer departed Stephanie chose willfully to ignore the topic of the previous conversation and simply live in the here and now as she said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.”

  “Now that you mention it, I am pretty hungry.”

  “I’ll rustle up some steaks, mashed potatoes and salad. Sound good?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Do you need a refresh of your drink?”

  “I’ll get it, you tend to the food.”

  “You stay right where you are mister, or I’ll fill you full of lead,” Stephanie said forming her hand into the shape of a gun with her forefinger pointing at him and trying to muster a scowl on her face.

  Elliott smiled, “Whatever you say, Marshall Wells.”

  After dinner Stephanie lit a fire in the fireplace and they talked softly into the wee hours of the night. Finally she said, “I’m going to make the remaining time we have together as wonderful as it can be.”

  She stood and pulled her tee shirt off and began to slip out of her bra.

  “I should tell you right now that I have a colostomy bag.”

  “I know that. Take it off and give it to me. I’ll take it to the bathroom and clean it out.”

  Her frankness startled Elliott a bit, but he began unfastening the straps and tubing.

  “You know Steph. I’m taking a lot of different medications. I might not be able to, you know …”

  “Do you still have the Viagra in your nightstand?”

  “There should be some. I haven’t used it since you were last here.”

  “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  A short while later, completely satiated, they fell asleep in each others arms on the bearskin rug in front of the fire.

  Greer arrived the following morning with a bundle of newspapers and a special edition of Time Magazine. Elliott’s face graced the cover and the caption read: “Hands Down Man-of-the-Year.”

  Elliott blushed.

  “That’s a little bit much.”

  “I object, Mr. Senator. It’s perfectly reasonable after all you’ve done.”

  The articles inside included a bio on Elliott and a blow-by-blow of how the bill was maneuvered through Congress which it described as part arm twisting, part artful dodging and part alchemy. However, the article Elliott enjoyed the most was a projection of what the world might look like ten years hence. It was titled, “A far better place.”

  Greer held up the front page of the Financial Times which had one word splashed across the top: “FINALLY!”

  It went on to talk about the financial fee structure as one being fair and reasonable and sparing the little fellow.

  “I’m going to feed the horses, slop the hogs and then take the ATV on a run around the eastern perimeter fencing. Is there anything you need done before I go?” Greer announced.

  “You could saddle Dusty and Lady. Would you like to go for a ride, Elliott?” Stephanie asked.

  “I can try.”

  Elliott made it a mile before the pain was too great. The jostling bounced his insides around too much. His bone mass had diminished so much so that at one point he felt as though his spine might snap.

  “We have to go back,” he managed to utter while gritting his teeth against the pain.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  They spent the next three days together reminiscing and just enjoying each other’s company, but each morning Elliott was forcing down more pain pills and the burning sensation throughout his body had grown more intense, just as Dr. Yates said it would. He could sense his overall weakness growing more and more each day.

  The morning of the fourth day, as they were sitting on the deck sipping coffee, Elliott broached a topic he’d been dreading to bring up.

  “You know, I could use some time to finalize my arrangements. I want to be sure I leave some dough to the guys from Iraq and some other last touches. You should probably be packing up your things and heading back.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Stephanie stated firmly.

  “Look Steph. I love you and I think you love me, but it is best …”

  “You think I love you? Is that all you can say, you THINK I love you?”

  “Well, I mean …”

  “And BEST? What is best about this situation? I’m going to lose you in a short while and yet you would deny me the last few days of happiness with you?”

  “It is going to get pretty ugly at the end, at least so I’m told.”

  “I don’t care about that. I want you for every minute I can have. Let me be the judge of when it gets ugly. In the meantime, these have been the happiest days, well the happiest days I can remember in a long, long time. Please don’t cut them short.”

  They gazed quietly at each other for a moment and then Stephanie stepped closer, sat on the edge of the lounge and rested her head on his chest and offered, “I can help you with your final papers. I can type.”

  Elliott didn’t respond. She leaned more heavily against him and said, “Don’t do this Elliott. I love you so much.”

  Elliott lifted her face until it was a few inches from his and saw the tears brimming in her eyes. After a short moment he smiled and said, “You know, you wield those tears like a weapon.”

  She smiled. “So it’s settled then?”

  “It seems I don’t have much choice.”

  She looked up and kissed him suggesting, “You are such a good man Elliott Eastman. For lunch let’s picnic over on the meadow beyond the pond.”

  Elliott nodded agreement, but he had already made up his mind. No one, not even his beloved Stephanie was going to see him as a helpless bag of bones. Helpless was something Elliott had never done well. It had never been Elliott’s way and he certainly wasn’t going to change now. Unfortunately what he had in mind had to be done soon, while he still had the strength.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  The following morning, while it was still quite dark, he leaned over and kissed Stephanie on the cheek. She murmured something and rol
led on her side pulling the covers over her bare shoulder. Elliott eased from under the covers, gathered his clothes in his arms and made for the stables. There he checked the saddlebags to make sure the tequila and morphine pills that Dr. Yates had provided were still there and struggled mightily to get the saddle on Dusty’s back. He took a note he’d written the night before and stuck it on a nail near the door. The note was brief. They had already said their good byes. It read: “Steph, I love you with all my heart. Greer, take care of the graves.” Mr. E.

  Elliott tried several times to pull himself into the saddle. He was weak, weaker than he could have ever imagined he might be.

  ‘Perhaps I’ve deluded myself into thinking I can do this. Perhaps I’ve waited too long’, he thought.

  With sweat beading his brow and his arms quaking from the effort, he finally managed to gain the saddle. A few hundred yards down the road they cut left. Dusty knew where they were going the moment they turned off the main trail. Despite the number of pain pills Elliott had taken he still gritted his teeth and tried to keep from teetering from the saddle. The sun was just coming up over the eastern peaks when they spied the narrow trace that wound through the rocks towards the hanging valley. Picking their way along the steep parts of the trail Elliott tugged back on the reins hoping to slow Dusty down. Even the most gentle of steps from the big horse drove spikes of pain through his body. He clung desperately to the pommel with both hands, gasping in pain with each lunging step. Horse and rider were just rounding the pond when a sharp whinny sounded in the distance. Dusty’s ears perked up and his gait quickened. Elliott grimaced and once again gripped the pommel for the last two hundred feet until they reached the fallen log. With great care he dismounted stiffly, pulled the saddle bags loose and let them fall on the ground and clutched his side. The whinny sounded again and Dusty pawed the earth. Elliott looked up and saw the mare. There she was, just fifty yards away across the pond. The mare stood with ears trained forward and nostrils flared.

 

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