by Jan Irving
Judes eyes widened.
“I know you, Doc. I knew it was only a matter of time.” Gabriel sighed.
“I cant stop thinking about Mr. Holliss healing ribs or the cough the Harrison baby developed over the spring.” Jude gave Gabriel an earnest look as if asking for his understanding.
Gabriel tugged him closer just outside their cabin, running a palm over Judes silken hair, over the enticing, round shape of one shoulder. He wasnt much bigger than Mouse. Gabriels chest tightened when he thought of a bullet slamming into Jude. “All right.”
Jude blinked and raised his chin, and Gabriel made an exasperated sound. “You cant go back without me.”
“I beg your pardon, but I—”
“You are a healer, not a gunman.”
Jude shook his head. “You are not—”
“Ive killed a man, Jude. Its something Id never want for you.”
“I…” Judes shoulders slumped. “I dont know what to do, but I must return to town.”
“The cabin isnt enough for you?” I’m not enough for you? Gabriel hadnt been this happy ever. When he took the bear up into the mountains in a few weeks, hed leave this place and go back to catching what work he could, resume his solitary life. He shook his head when Judes eyes darkened and his new lover reached out to stroke Gabriels arm. “No, I know. You have to be the man you are, Jude, just as I…” He lowered his head. “I know.”
“Gabriel.” Jude squeezed his hand. “Come inside. You havent got a stitch on, and its chilly. Ive only just nagged you back to health.”
Gabriel forced a smile. “You want me to warm you up in bed.” His voice deepened on the last word.
Color bloomed in Judes cheeks, and his eyes were heavy. “Yes.”
Gabriels hand rode low on Judes back as they walked up the loft steps, his footfalls heavier than Judes, his heart pounding now for a very different reason than his nightmare.
Judes hand caressed his unshaven cheek with a rasping sound as they stood in their shared bedroom again.
“Jude, take off your pants,” Gabriel ordered.
* * *
“Why do you want to know about the other men Smith rides with?” Mouse probed the next afternoon. “Theyre just like him. Besides, I thought you had that man Seamus watching him.”
Jude was ranging the woods gathering supplies for their bear, leaving Mouse alone with Gabriel, though Gabriel had made him promise to stay within sight of the cabin. He was cleaning his Winchester .44-40, smoothing a rag over it. Every now and then, he lifted his telescope and scanned the surrounding countryside.
Now Gabriel looked at Mouse. The boy was no fool. In some ways, he was sharper than Jude, who wanted to believe the best of people. “You know why.”
Mouse huffed out a breath. “Yes. Doc Jude wont like it. He doesnt believe in violence.”
“Sometimes you have to stand up.”
“He does that now.” A strained expression moved over Mouses face. “For all the good it does!”
“Mouse”—Gabriel rested the rifle beside him and studied the boy—“whats on your mind?”
Mouses face was stony.
“Judes not here. We can share, one man to another.”
Mouse suddenly was on his feet, pacing. Color flagged his cheeks, and he wrapped his arms around his thin body. “What happened to Doc Jude was because hes different. Always prodding at folks. I kept watch over him for years, trying to talk to him so he wouldnt—”
Gabriel sighed. “Partially it was Judes reformer impulses, but it was also me, Mouse. I set off a powder keg.”
“I guess.”
“Doc Jude isnt going to change,” Gabriel said gently. Reminding the boy. Reminding himself.
“Now hes gone and done something else that makes him different!” Mouse burst out, tears standing in his eyes. “And theyll kill him for it! Theyll drag his body behind a horse and—”
“Mouse!” Gabriel got to his feet, reaching for the boy.
“No, dont you touch me!” Mouse growled. “Its all your fault!” He turned away before kicking his foot against a rung on the corral. “I wish youd never come to Sylvan! I wish you hadnt met Doc Jude.”
For a second, Gabriel marveled at how the boy had mapped out the cabin and land around it in his head so precisely he knew the shape of the corral. He cleared his throat, giving himself a moment and then shrugging.
“You mean how Jude is with me.”
“Why cant you leave him alone?” Mouse went for Gabriel, small fists striking him. “Im not a child; I know if Smith ever found out—”
“Damnation!” Gabriels eyes widened as he suddenly figured something out. “That vaquero who used to visit Doc Jude; he didnt die when his horse fell on him, did he?”
Mouse shook his head. “Joanna told me,” he whispered. “Doc Jude doesnt know. She said it would only hurt him, that nothing could be done now.”
Gabriel gripped Mouses shoulder. “She was right, Mouse. It would hurt Jude, and he couldnt change the past.”
“I didnt know why they killed him,” Mouse said. “He was always nice to me. Gave me peppermint sticks from the general store.”
“You didnt know until we all came out here.” Gabriel sighed. “Until you realized that Jude and I…”
“You sleep in the same bed.”
“Yes,” Gabriel admitted softly. “Mouse, Jude loves you. Hes still the same man—”
“Theyll kill him for it. Sooner or later, itll happen,” Mouse said bitterly. “Your fault.”
Gabriel swallowed. “It wont happen.”
“You dont know. You wont be here!”
“Before I leave, Ill make Sylvan safe for you and Jude.” Gabriel sat on the corral next to Mouse. “I swear it.”
Mouse dashed the tears from his eyes. His gaze drifted from the foothills to the mountains beyond, but Gabriel knew he was listening. “Doc Jude… Id kill anyone who hurt him,” Mouse vowed.
Gabriel said, “I know.”
“You arent going to tell me I shouldnt feel that way?”
“Why would I when I feel the same way?”
Mouse dug his hands into his pockets. “So what do you want to know about Smiths men? Whos fastest on the draw?”
“Yes. You being so observant, I figure you know a lot about Smiths gang.”
“Youre planning to do something like in one of them dime novels. Bring law to the town?”
“Not law, just order,” Gabriel said. “You game to help me out?”
Mouse nodded. “You going to tell Doc Jude that I know, um…” Color heated his cheeks again.
“I think Ill leave it for you to share with him,” Gabriel said. “Hes the man he always has been, Mouse. And he…” Gabriels voice softened. “You know hes a father to you.”
“I know it. We have to take care of him because hes an idealist. That dont work out so good for some folks.”
Gabriel thought of his nightmare, of the man who watched them from the ridge, of Judes gutted clinic and his vaquero, dragged behind a horse and left to rot in the prairie grass because someone had guessed his secret…and Judes?
“Well make him safe. Lets shake on it.”
When Mouse shook his hand, Gabriel felt something strange moving in his chest. It might have been hope.
Chapter Fifteen
The rain was pouring down, soaking Mouses clothing against his skin. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself, straining to hear Gabriel digging around for more treats for Mouses bear, as Gabriel and Jude were given to calling her.
“Mouse.” Gabriels tone was chiding, his voice suddenly close. “Why didnt you say anything? Jude will have my a—Uh, hell be displeased if you come down with something.”
Mouse opened his mouth to ask what Gabriel meant when a heavy piece of clothing suddenly shielded him from the storm. He touched it, recognizing it as Gabriels slicker.
“But now youll get wet,” he said.
“Ive been wet before.” Gabriels footfalls moved away.
&n
bsp; Mouse wanted to argue with Gabriel that he didnt need taking care of, but he
knew it was part of the gunman to watch over him and Jude, the same way Jude couldnt let anyone hurt without offering to help or the same way his mother, Joanna, always went back to David Smith.
He caught the crack of something—lightning? It was hard to make out sounds in the rain. He could hear the faint rasp of Gabriel rooting around the ground, probably for another log. Every now and then he paused, and Mouse knew he was also listening.
“Whats it like? I mean, you and Doc Jude?” Gabriel stilled at his question, and all Mouse could hear were the heavy drops spattering the earth as they fell from the branches.
“I dont mean…” Mouse felt color heat his cheeks.
“Its like from the Bible, when it talks about Eve being made from Adams rib,” Gabriel said. “I feel like he was made from my body.”
“Oh.” Mouse couldnt imagine that. It was…
“One day you might feel that way about someone.”
“But youre leaving, so its not a good thing.”
“I dont think of it as good or bad, Mouse. Its a part of me. Youll look out for him when Im gone, wont you? Like you did before.”
Mouse nodded even as his shoulders slumped. “That stuff I said about wishing youd never come to town…”
“I know, Mouse.”
“I didnt mean it.”
“You just want to keep him safe.”
Mouse caught another sound and frowned, turning. “Gabriel…?” Bang.
The sound was the loudest Mouse had ever heard in all his years. It was somehow inside him. He grabbed his neck, slick with rain…with blood. He could smell his own blood.
“Oh, God no!” Gabriels voice, not like hed ever heard it. Mouse wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he couldnt speak.
* * *
Jude scrubbed his eyes as he heard Gabriels stallion gallop back to the corral. He must have fallen asleep, doing his portion of watching over Mouses bear. He was tired because lately he and Gabriel were loathe to waste the nights they had together, so they spent them playing out the drama in their imaginary brothel. He couldnt get enough of his man, his taste, his hard kisses, crushed under him where he belonged.
“Jude!”
Jude was on his feet, shoving open the lean-to door. Gabriels voice— “Oh, God. No. No, Gabriel!”
“Steady, Doc.” Gabriels face was streaked with blood. Mouse shifted in his
arms, groaning. “Someone shot him.” Jude snatched his bag from the lean-to floor, pushing Gabriel from the darkened space. “I need light. Just… God. Put him down. Ill see to him now.”
“Here in the dirt?” Very gently, Gabriel lowered his burden. Mouse made another pain noise, and Jude felt it lodge in his chest.
“Doc”—Gabriel gripped his hand—“the bullets in the side of his throat. Can you help him?”
“Yes, but I—” Jude couldnt take the time to explain. He opened his bag and dug out alcohol and a small scalpel. “Into the cabin. My desk. Theres a fountain pen there.”
“Fountain pen?” Gabriel was already on his feet, running.
Jude stroked back Mouses hair with trembling fingers. “Youre going to be just fine. You hear me? Its like that time you fell off the tailors roof and I had to set your leg.”
“G-griar…” The word gurgled in Mouses throat.
Jude gave a choked laugh. His hands were shaking. “Im not a liar.”
A hundred years later, Gabriel was back with the pen. “Strip it apart. I need the hollow tube,” Jude ordered. He closed his eyes and said a prayer, and then his hands were moving as they had so often and they made the slice. Blood welled.
“Jude, what…?”
“Give it to me.” Jude took the shell of his fountain pen and smeared it with alcohol before inserting it into Mouses throat. “He was having trouble breathing. Nnow I can work on the bullet.”
“I wish theyd shot me,” Gabriel whispered. His gun was out in his bloody hand. He rested his forehead against it.
“I wish they had too.” He looked up and tears were in his eyes and his hands were trembling and he couldnt do this. Mouse. “Im sorry. Im sorry.”
Gabriel shook his head. “You dont have to be sorry, Jude. I know you. You can do this.”
Jude gave a jerky nod and reached for the chloroform.
* * *
Gabriels eyes were bloodshot, and he looked exhausted when he got down from the saddle hours later and led his stallion into the corral.
Jude left the lean-to, shading his eyes to see Ming and Shen Lei and Gabriels friend and old servant, Seamus OReilly, following in a cart.
“How is he?” Gabriel asked in a hushed voice, and Jude immediately noticed Gabriel avoided his gaze, running his hand instead over a wooden post.
“Resting,” Jude croaked. He cleared his throat. “Gabriel, it is not ideal for a doctor to treat family. What I said… Im sorry. Id never want you hurt.”
Gabriels dark eyes lifted, boring into Judes, and Jude felt that look, that possession. I know you, Gabriel; you’re a part of me now.
“How soon can he be moved?”
“Not for a day at least. The stitches I made need to heal.”
Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck. “Ill be back for you soon. Be ready.”
Jude strode after him, catching his coat, his hand sliding up to grip Gabriels rigid arm. “What are you going to do?”
Gabriel nodded to Ming. “He owns an empty storefront on the main street.”
Jude blinked, then looked to his friend, who bowed, his almond-shaped eyes full of compassion as he pulled a box of supplies off the cart. “I brought some of my herbs, Doc Jude, for the boy.”
Judes throat tightened. He cleared it. “Thank you. Im glad youre here, Ming.” He looked back at his man, his stubborn man. His pulse was racing. “What do you mean to do, Gabriel?”
“Ming couldnt use the land since no one wants a Chinese man in the middle of town, but he figured to sell it if the railroad comes through.”
Jude had a feeling he knew where this was going, but he needed confirmation. “Yes?”
“Your new clinic, Jude. Pack up what you need. When Mouse can be moved, well head back into town.”
“But one of Smiths men shot Mouse. And they burned my clinic. I cant—”
“Dont you worry about that.”
“Gabriel!” Jude wanted to kick something as the larger man pulled away and returned to his horse. “You cant. I dont want you to put yourself at risk.”
From the saddle, Gabriel looked down at Jude, the brim of his hat shading his eyes, his hair blowing in the light summer wind.
Jude caught his breath and took a step back.
“They meant to kill me. They made a mistake shooting that boy.”
* * *
Gabriel rode through the center of town, his rifle cradled in his arms, his coat pushed back so his guns were clear. He studied the windows and rooftops, pausing twice while nervous citizens stared at him and whispered to each other. Passing the general store, he nodded at the proprietor, Ralph Bellows, who looked uncomfortable. He sorted through potatoes and carrots outside his storefront but nevertheless held Gabriels gaze.
Finally he arrived at the livery and his first challenge. He dismounted, catching the owners reluctant eye. “Wally Steen,” Gabriel called. “You still have lumber and nails from when you rebuilt your stable.”
Steen swallowed. His gray eyes were huge. “What business it is of yours—” Gabriels spurs jingled as he crowded Steen. “When the livery burned down, Jude fronted you the money to rebuild,” he said very softly. “He helped you recuperate when you couldnt use your hand temporarily. If not for him, you would have lost it.”
“I dont want to get mixed up in anything.”
“You chose a side already.”
“Look, I had to—”
“Now youll choose another,” Gabriel said. “The right one.” He gripped Steens shoulder. “Doc Jude
believes in the people of this town.”
Steen rubbed his jaw, finally meeting Gabriels eyes. “Does he know—”
“That you helped the men who burned down his clinic?” Gabriel knew what he wanted to say. “No,” he lied.
Steen looked relieved. “Hes a good man, even if I dont always understand the things he talks about.”
“Bring what you have left of those building supplies to the empty house next to the millinery.” Gabriel unsaddled Lancelot and made sure the stallion had water and some feed. “It needs some work. I want shelves lined up in the first bedroom.”
Steen gaped at him. “But Smith…” He let out a breath. “Yessir. What will you be doing?”
“Going through the ashes of Judes first clinic for anything that can be salvaged.”
“His first clinic. Mister…” Wally scratched his head.
But Gabriel wasnt listening anymore. He saw two men leave the Lucky Dollar and lounge against the porch pillars, waiting, watching him.
That could keep. He headed for the general store next.
* * *
“Hell need a cabinet he can lock…” Gabriel continued giving his list to Ralph Bellows.
The barber was fingering some cotton bolts. He looked over at Gabriel and Ralph and then quickly away when he met Gabriels eyes.
“And Ill need fresh paint.”
“Whos going to do the painting?” Ralph asked, scribbling on paper.
“I will,” Gabriel said, ignoring Ralphs look of surprise. In an undertone, he asked. “Is there another way out of here?”
“Through the back…” Bellows followed him, staring as Gabriel removed his boots so he was in his stocking feet.
Gabriel put his finger to his lips. “Shhh.”
* * *
Gabriel cocked his gun. “Theres a rumor going around that the men who work for Smith have no problem shooting a child in the back.”
“The hell you say!” Brown eyes, gray hair, stringy build. His hand went to his gun, but he didnt draw. Not with Gabriel nudging his skull with the barrel of his Colt Peacemaker.