by Faye Adams
Cass hovered somewhere in the dark. She hurt so badly that she didn't want to leave this place of unreality. She didn't want to see the gunman again. She didn't want to see Ramsey's face. He'd killed her family. All these years she'd thought about the silver gun. She'd asked questions trying to find the mystery man, and all along it had been Ramsey. The scene began to play again in her mind. The fire in the house, the gunshots, the screams. She tried to cry out, but could only lie and watch. No, she thought. I don't want to see this again. She let herself fall farther into the darkness.
Brett thought he saw her eyelashes flutter just a bit. "Doc," he called.
"What is it?" the doctor asked entering the room.
"Her eyelids moved."
"She's dreaming. Or trying to wake up," he said. He checked her pulse and left the room again.
Brett once more watched her sleep. "Cass, come back to me," he whispered.
For hours he stood and watched her. Then, getting a chair from the waiting room, he sat for several more hours. It was growing dark when he heard someone at the door. Standing up, he went to see who it was. Peering out through the window, he saw Soony.
"Mr. Brett, Mrs. Wettle sent dinner," he said, holding up a tray and a glass of milk.
Brett realized he hadn't eaten all day and hurriedly opened the door. "Thank you, Soony. And thank Mrs. Wettle for me when you go back." He sniffed the cloth-covered tray.
"Stew," Soony informed him. "She says it'll stick to your ribs. I say it'll stick to everything."
Brett chuckled. "You don't think too highly of Mrs. Wettle's cooking?"
Soony looked down. "She puts flour in everything, even eggs."
"Eggs?"
"She fixed Mr. Darby some eggs with flour in them. She says flour gives them body. I don't understand," he said, shaking his head.
Brett grinned. "I'm sure she's not as good a cook as you are, Soony, but I'll do my best to eat this. I wouldn't want to hurt her feelings."
Soony nodded. "Yes. We must be nice," he said. "She means well."
Brett took the tray and milk from Soony and carried them back with him into the exam room.
"How is Missy Cass?" Soony asked, following him inside. "Mr. Darby is very worried."
"The same. She's sleeping. Once in a while her eyelids move, but she hasn't awakened yet."
"She is dreaming," said Soony.
"That's what the doc says."
"He's right," confirmed Soony as though he were an expert.
Brett devoured Mrs. Wettle's stew with fervor. He was so hungry he didn't stop to analyze it. It was food. And it did feel as if it would stick to his ribs. He washed it down with the milk. "How is Darby doing?" he asked when his stomach was full.
"Mr. Darby says he's fine. Mrs. Wettle says he's stubborn. She says he must stay in her bed for a week," Soony informed him.
Brett started to chuckle when Soony mentioned the sleeping arrangements at Mrs. Wettle's home.
"Did I say something wrong, Mr. Brett?" Soony asked.
“No, don't change a thing," Brett told him. Though Soony had a remarkable grasp of the English language, his occasional misunderstandings of certain things were quite entertaining.
Soony nodded. "I'll go now. I told Mrs. Wettle I'd do the dishes."
Brett smiled at Soony. "All right. Tell Darby I'll stop by in the morning to see how he's doing."
"Yes, Mr. Brett."
"And would you do me a favor? Would you go to Rosie's house tomorrow to see if she and Buster need anything from the store?"
"Buster?"
"Mrs. Thompson's nephew. You probably met him at the barn raising. He's keeping an eye on Rosie for me." He noticed the bewildered expression on Soony's face. The man didn't know all that was going on. "Rosie has been threatened," he explained.
Soony nodded. "I'll be glad to go to Rosie's tomorrow."
"Thank you," Brett said, handing him the empty tray and glass.
After Soony had left, Brett returned to his vigil, watching over Cass. Several hours later he dozed off with his head resting on the edge of the table where she lay.
Cass was running. Running from the men who had killed her family. Running toward something. She couldn't catch her breath, and she felt as though her chest was about to explode. She tried calling out for help, but she couldn't remember who was left alive to help her. She saw her mother and father, but they were both dead. She saw her brothers and sister. They were dead too. Then she saw Brett. She opened her mouth to scream for him to help her, but she could make no sound. She was drowning in thick water. It sucked her downward, choking her, pressing on her chest so she couldn't breathe at all. Then the flames began to lick at her flesh. She was on fire. The heat seared her painfully. She tried to call for Brett again, but again she could make no sound. Ramsey's face floated before her, smiling. He dangled a silver chain in front of her. "It was me, Cass," he taunted. "It was me." He began to laugh at her. She struggled against the sound, but it wouldn't stop. No matter what she did, her torment wouldn't end.
Brett felt Cass move and was suddenly awake. "Cass?" he said, his voice raspy with sleep. "Cass, are you awake?"
He looked at her face. She was still unconscious, dreaming dreams that caused her to writhe. Touching her forehead, he was filled with dread. She was burning up. "Doc!" he called. "Doc, get in here!"
Seconds later the doctor ran into the room in his nightshirt. Feeling Cass's forehead and arms, he shook his head. “I warned you fever might set in."
"What can we do?"
"Keep her as cool as possible and let her ride it out. Let's hope she's strong enough to live through it."
The doctor helped Brett remove Cass's clothes, then gave him a basin of cool water and a sponge. "Just keep her cool, Marshal. That's all you can do."
Brett began to sponge her off starting at her head and working his way down her body. Once in a while he'd hear her moan and see her eyelashes flutter, but she never woke up. The night turned into one long stretch of continuous work. "Come on, Cass. Fight. Fight for me. You've got to come back to me," he pleaded.
Cass once more suffered through the fire. Her fingers burned. Her toes burned. The ends of her hair burned. And through it all she heard Ramsey's laughter. At one point she was certain she saw Satan smiling down on her, but his face turned into Ramsey's and she knew she wasn't dead yet. She shivered as something cold touched her.
Brett watched the sun come up through the windows of the office. He'd spent nearly the entire night sponging Cass off, but she was still almost too hot to touch. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his muscles ached.
"You look a sight," said the doctor when he came in carrying two cups of steaming black coffee.
"I need this," Brett whispered over the cup the doctor handed him.
The doctor felt Cass's forehead, then checked her pulse. "She seems about the same."
Brett nodded. "I’m going to keep trying to cool her off. She'll make it, Doc. I know she will."
The doctor nodded and walked back to his apartment.
About an hour later Mrs. Wettle brought another tray of food for Brett. "I can't stand the thought of a man being hungry," she said, setting the tray on a small table in the examination room. "How's she doing? Darby wants me to give him details."
"She's got a fever. I'm working to get it down."
“Mrs. Wettle nodded her head approvingly. "She's a lucky girl to have you," she said.
"Darby's lucky to have you," Brett returned.
"Yes, he is," she agreed. "I'd best be getting back to him. Soony will stop by for the tray a little later."
"All right. And tell Darby I said hello."
"Of course," she said, and left.
Several other people stopped by to ask about Cass's condition. He told them all the same thing: she was going to be fine. Soony came and went and said he'd let Rosie and Buster know what was going on.
Brett continued sponging Cass off during the rest of the day. His shoulders ached from the c
onstant repetitive movement but he wouldn't stop except to eat or make a trip to the outhouse. "Cass, when you wake up, you're going to listen to me. You're going to stop this quest for revenge. I couldn't go through this again," he said quietly, his heart aching with worry for her. "I love you, Cass," he told her again. "I love you, and I won't lose you. Do you hear me?"
Cass thought she heard someone calling her from very far away. She tried to move toward the sound of the voice, but it was no use. Every time she attempted to surface above the darkness that held her, she saw Ramsey. Ramsey, who'd killed her family. Ramsey, who'd said he would "take care of her, himself. He meant to kill her. Why did he want to marry her? Because he wanted her land to become part of the Lazy T. Had she been right? Had her family been murdered simply for easy access to the Losee? She'd thought it all along, but to know it was true sent her spiraling backwards again. The evil necessary to do such a thing was beyond her ken. She shuddered and fell once more.
Brett watched the sun set and rise again. He'd dozed fitfully during the night and could barely keep his eyes open in the morning.
"You'd better get some rest, Marshal, or you'll be my next patient," the doctor told him.
“I can't rest until her fever's broken."
"Then I suggest you get to resting. She feels cooler," he said smiling. "You've done it, Marshal. I think she's out of the woods."
"What?" Brett jumped up to touch her. "How could I have missed it?"
"You're exhausted. Go get some sleep."
"But I want to be here when she wakes up.”
"She might sleep for hours yet. And excuse me for saying so, Marshal, but you need a bath."
Brett started to laugh. "I suppose I do."
"You don’t want to offend her the minute she wakes up, do you?" The doctor smiled at him.
"No. I’ll go to the sheriff's office and take a bath." He touched his whiskers. "And shave," he added. "But I'll hurry."
As Brett left the doctor's office, his heart felt lighter than it had in several days. He still had Ramsey to deal with, but Cass was going to be all right. He just had to clean up, and stop and check on Rosie and Buster, and then he'd be back beside Cass.
Ramsey scowled as he watched the marshal enter the sheriff’s office 'You'll be next, Marshal. But first I have to take care of Cass." Sneaking around behind several buildings, he made his way toward the doctor's office.
Cass felt something cool on her forehead. Someone was touching her. Opening her eyes, she looked up and saw the doctor. "Hello, Doc," she whispered weakly.
"Cass?" The doctor glanced down at her face. "Don't try to talk. You've been through quite an ordeal, but you're going to be fine."
“Brett?" she asked.
"I made him go take a bath. He hasn't left your side since you were shot.” She tried to smile, but it was too much effort. She smiled inside. Sleep tugged at her mind again.
"You go ahead and sleep. The marshal will be back soon, and I'm she he'll tire you out with his attention."
Cass drifted off. She wanted to see Brett. She had to tell him she loved him. And she had to tell him about Ramsey. She had to tell him....
Ramsey peered through a small window in the back of the doctor's office He seemed to be looking into an apartment of some kind. He saw some movement and ducked back against the building. After waiting a few seconds he looked again. This time he saw the doctor sit down at a small table and begin to read the newspaper. "Perfect " he breathed. Making his way to the front of the building, he slipped inside unnoticed and walked silently toward the examination room.
Cass was dreaming again. She was with Brett and he was loving her. She smiled up into his beautiful gray eye as she told him she loved him.
Brett soaked in a cold tub. He hadn't wanted to take the time to warm the water, and now he was paying for it. "Brrr," he shivered. Although the sun outside was beating down with a fury, sitting in cold well water was freezing him through and through. Then he thought about Cass again. Her smile, her laughter, the way she kissed him. The way she did certain other things that raised his blood pressure. He smiled to himself and rinsed the soap from his back. Reaching for his razor, he began to remove several days’ growth of beard.
Ramsey moved stealthily into the exam room. His heart filled with evil glee when he saw Cass lying helpless on the examination table with her eyes closed. How could he have gotten any luckier? She was sleeping. She'd never even know what was happening until it was too late. Looking around, he searched for a way to kill her quietly.
Brett finished drying off and reached for his clothes, grateful he'd thought to buy a few extra things for himself the day he'd shopped after the fire. Pulling on his undergarments, then his shirt and trousers, he couldn't help but grin with happiness. Cass was going to be all right. She'd lived through getting shot, and she had survived the fever. She's going to be all right! his mind shouted with joy. He tugged on his boots, then strapped his gun belt around his hips. Grabbing his hat, he headed for Rosie's house. "One stop to make, then I'll be back with you, Cass," he whispered to himself.
Ramsey spotted a pillow under a shelf along the wall. Crossing silently, he pulled it from its place and retuned to Cass's side. Raising the pillow above her face, he sneered, "You won't cause us any more trouble, Cass."
Cass was floating in a dream state. Her mind wandered from Brett to the past. She now knew everything. She remembered everything. All the horrible things she'd forgotten, she could now look at, and she knew she'd be able to finish what she'd started. She could see herself killing Ramsey and Hunt. She could feel herself pulling back on the triggers of her gums, could see her enemies dying before her. She was so close to the end of her quest. When it was over she could concentrate on Brett. She could get on with her life. She'd hang up her guns for good. There would be no more Lady of the Gun.
Something ended her reverie. A voice close by. She struggled back up through the layers of consciousness. Had Brett come back? She had to see him. She had to tell him about Ramsey.
Ramsey studied her face as he hovered over her. Lowering the pillow to his side, he hesitated for a moment. "It's too bad you wouldn't cooperate, Cass" I wanted you, you know. I wanted to make love to you. I wanted to touch you everywhere. I wanted to feel myself inside you. But you wouldn’t let me.” He frowned down at her. "And now I have to kill you. It’s such a waste, Cass. We could have been so good together.”
Cass was sure she heard a voice close by. It was a man’s voice, but it wasn't Brett's. Was it the doctor's? She made her way upward through the darkness. She could almost touch the top now. She tried to open her eyes.
Brett banged on Rosie's door. "Buster?" he called.
Buster opened the door. "Howdy, Marshal. How's Miss Cass?"
"The fever broke and the Doc says she should be fine," he answered, grinning. "I went and had a bath and changed clothes. I'm on my way back to her now, but I wanted to stop and see how you and Rosie are doing."
Buster stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He leaned closer to the marshal and whispered, "You know, sir, Rosie's really pretty.”
"Yes, Buster, she is," Brett answered.
“Well, sir, do you think it'd be all right it I asked to keep company with her?" he asked.
Brett thought for a minute. "I think that'd be a fine idea, but it's up to Rosie. She has some things going on in her life right now that she may feel she needs to work through before she'd be ready to start a relationship with anyone."
Buster glanced both ways and leaned even closer. “You mean the baby?"
"She told you about it?" Brett asked, surprised.
"Yes, sir. And you know, she acted like I would think she was a bad person for it. Can you imagine that?'
Brett smiled warmly at his new friend. "No, Buster, I can't."
"Anyway, sir, I just thought I should check with you before I go makin' plans."
"Plans?"
"In case things work out with me and Rosie. Can a deputy be mar
ried?"
"This is happening pretty fast, isn't it?" he asked.
"I figure when a man finds a good thing he shouldn't let it go," Buster answered with a wisdom beyond his years.
Brett thought about Cass. "When your right Buster, you're very right." He reached out to shake his hand. "I’ll be with Cass for a while. You stay here and I’ll come back over when I can."
"Yes, sir," Buster replied, shaking the marshals hand.
"One more thing, Buster."
"Yes, sir?"
"My name's Brett."
"Yes, sir, Brett," Buster answered, smiling.
Cass opened her eyes slowly and saw the outline of a man standing over her. "Brett?" she whispered.
"No, Cass. It's not Brett. It's me, Ramsey.”
Cass's eyes widened in terror. She knew she was nearly helpless. Where was Brett? Where was the doctor? Then she remembered that Ramsey didn't know she was aware of his misdeeds. "Hello, Ramsey," she breathed weakly. "It's nice to see you," she lied.
"It's nice to see you again, Cass," he whispered. “You don't look so well."
"I don't feel so well."
"The other guy is worse. You laid him out like a slab of beef’"
"I wish I hadn't been forced to shoot him. He made me do it," she murmured.
"I understand that, Cass, because, you see, I also have to do something I don't want to," he replied softly.
Something in his voice frightened her. “What's that, Ramsey?" she asked.
“I have to kill you," he answered.
Cass's heart leaped in fear. "Why, Ramsey? I said I'd give you another chance. We can start over."
Ramsey shook his head. "I'm afraid not. You getting shot made me realize it would be best for all of us if you simply died. Trying to get you to marry me was proving to be too much work." He raised the pillow again.
Cass saw the pillow and knew instantly what he intended to do. "You'll never get away with this, Ramsey. Someone will find out what you've done. You'll hang."
"Do you really think I'm intimidated by those threats, Cass?" He raised the pillow higher.