A Gideon Johann Boxed Set Book 1 - 4 (A Gideon Johann Western 0)

by Duane Boehm

“Take your shirt off and have a seat on the table,” Doc commanded as he scrubbed his hands.

  Mary helped pull the shirt off Gideon after he unbuttoned it and he hopped onto the table as if he were there for a chat.

  “Abby didn’t need this kind of excitement,” Gideon said.

  Doc peered at the wound. “She would have been a lot more excited if that bullet had been three more inches to the left. You would be a dead man right now. Your shooter didn’t miss by much. Do you know who he was?” he said as he examined the entrance and exit wounds.

  “I think it is Ike Todd. He’s a hired gun out of New Mexico. Somebody is worried that I’m still digging into Druthers’ murder. Cal Simpson will probably be in here to get his broken nose fixed. I’m going to take him down with the rest of them when I get to the bottom of this,” Gideon said.

  Doc Abram squeezed the muscles around the wound, making Gideon wince.

  Mary asked, “How bad is it?”

  “He should heal up just fine. Mary, can you hand me his shirt,” Doc said.

  “Damn, Doc, it hurts enough without you grabbing it,” Gideon said.

  “Quit your whining. You don’t want to lose that arm do you? Now lay down,” Doc said.

  The doctor laid the shirtsleeve flat on the washstand and examined the entrance hole. “Gideon, I’m going to have to dig around for cloth in the wound. There’s no way of knowing whether it’s in your arm or came out with the bullet,” he said, retrieving his tweezers.

  Doc Abram instructed Finnie to hold a lamp near the wound as he began probing. Gideon grimaced in pain, but made no sounds. The doctor pulled out a small piece of material. Smiling in satisfaction at his handiwork, he said, “Thank goodness I found it. I would have worried about that until your arm rotted off or you got well.”

  “That’s certainly reassuring,” Gideon said sarcastically.

  The doctor doused the wound liberally with iodine and proceeded to bandage the arm. “I’m not going to put your arm in a sling. I want you to keep moving it so that your arm doesn’t get so stiff. Just don’t do anything strenuous. Try to stay alive,” Doc said.

  “That I intend to do. Thank you once again for patching me up. I think I’ll go sit for a while,” Gideon said as he hopped down from the examining table.

  Chapter 15

  The morning after Gideon had been wounded, Abby sat at the table nervously rubbing her hands. She had barely slept throughout the night and had managed to wake Gideon up every time the pain of the injury had subsided enough for him to doze. They were both tired and in ill moods at breakfast. Abby’s eyes were puffy and dark underneath them. Gideon looked pale. His arm throbbed and the stiffness made it difficult to move. Winnie sized up the situation as she ate a piece of bacon and decided it best to eat in silence.

  “I don’t see how you can continue being sheriff with the risk involved when you know that you have a child on the way that is going to need a father,” Abby said, breaking the silence.

  “Nobody has killed me yet. You told me before we ever married that you would support me in whatever I wanted to do, including being sheriff. It’s what I’m good at and you knew full well what you were getting into. Yes, it is a dangerous job, but Ethan about got killed riding in his pasture and people die in unexpected ways every day. It is just how life works. You just need to calm yourself. Everything will be fine,” Gideon said.

  “You were ambushed and I’m smart enough to know that the bullet missed its target by a couple of inches. I just as easily could have been a widow. I don’t know how you think that is alright,” Abby said and started to sniffle.

  “But it didn’t hit its mark. Nothing is going to happen to me, I promise. There’s way too much to live for these days to get killed now after all the years of misery that I went through. Trust me,” Gideon said.

  The sniffles turned into crying and Abby said, “I’m so scared of losing you. I don’t know what I would do with myself if I did.”

  Gideon got up from his chair and walked around the table behind Abby, putting his hands on her shoulders. He leaned down and kissed her check. “I didn’t wait eighteen years to marry a bossy woman just to get killed off and miss out on that fun,” he teased.

  Abby let out a little laugh between her sobs. “I must not be very good at bossing. It doesn’t look like I had much luck at it this time.”

  “But I love you anyway,” Gideon said.

  “You think you’re so charming, but Finnie, now that’s a charming man. Compared to him you’re just a dried up old cowboy,” Abby retorted.

  Gideon let out a cackle. “Mary must think so too. You women love a foreign accent, but he saved my bacon yesterday, that’s for sure,” he said.

  “Get over there and eat your breakfast, Sheriff. Your foods going to get cold,” Abby said.

  Winnie had listened to the conversation with keen interest. Since the time that her mother had begun seeing Gideon, she had come to realize how lacking her parents’ relationship had been. The affection that Gideon and her mother showed each other had been a revelation. She still mourned the breakup of her family and not seeing her father every day, but understood more and more why her mother had divorced her father.

  After breakfast, Gideon found that his injury made saddling his horse and pulling himself up into the saddle an ordeal. He barely could raise his stiff arm high enough to get the saddle onto the horse’s back and had to use his right arm to awkwardly pull himself into the saddle. On the ride into town, he worked his arm in every manner that he could think of with considerable pain until it limbered up and gave him some hope that the limb would heal properly. He found Finnie in the jail making coffee and acting as giddy as he had after his first dinner with Mary.

  “How’s the arm?” Finnie asked.

  “It hurts, but it works,” Gideon said.

  “Mary and I had a bully time last evening,” Finnie said.

  “Glad to hear that somebody did. Me getting shot had Abby rattled all last night and this morning still,” Gideon said.

  “Did you know that she is twenty–seven?” Finnie asked, ignoring Gideon’s comment.

  “Can’t say that I did. I didn’t think you were supposed to ask a woman her age,” Gideon said.

  “I didn’t. She just up and told me. I’m thirty–six now. Do you think that makes me too old?” Finnie said.

  “Too old for what? You saved my life yesterday and you’re killing me today. I’m sure Abby would agree that I’m about the last person in the world that should be giving you romantic advice. Get a grip on yourself. You sound like a chucklehead,” Gideon said.

  Finnie handed Gideon a cup of coffee. “I guess I do. I want to pinch myself to make sure it’s real. I’m still having a hard time believing somebody like Mary would want to dine with me,” he said.

  “Well, believe it. I know Mary and she wouldn’t have accepted your invitation unless she wanted to go. How is your drinking going? That should be your big concern,” Gideon said.

  “I’m doing okay. I must admit that it still has a powerful hold on me though. I had two drinks yesterday. It surely is a struggle,” Finnie said.

  “Keep it up. I know you can do it,” Gideon said.

  “I best be getting over there. I plan to get the old nag out today and go see Ethan and start teaching Zack to box if he’s around. I need to keep my word to that poor boy before he gets worked over again,” Finnie said before grabbing his hat and heading out the door.

  Later in the morning, Gideon walked over see Doc Abram to have his arm checked and the bandage changed. The doctor, satisfied with the condition of the wound, gave him another lecture on the need to be more careful before sending Gideon on his way.

  Gideon walked to the bank and found Mr. Fredrick sitting at the desk formerly used by Mr. Druthers. The banker appeared busy, going over a ledger, and seemed to take a moment to become cognizant that Gideon had entered the bank. Walking into the little office, Gideon sat down across the desk from the banker.


  “Good morning, Mr. Fredrick. I thought I would stop in and see if you have made any discoveries since we last talked,” Gideon said.

  “Sheriff, I’ve been so busy learning my new job that I haven’t had much time to nose around, but to answer your question, no I haven’t found anything,” the banker said.

  “I’ve been thinking about another possibility. Did Mr. Druthers or any other bank patron receive regular bank drafts or cash payments from out of town?” Gideon asked.

  “I was only the teller. Mr. Druthers never let me near any business that came through the mail or stagecoach. Obviously, you are looking for some kind of money trail. I assure you that Druthers was too smart to put it in the bank ledgers. I may find a separate ledger with what you are looking for, but I believe that will be the only way it happens. I truly plan to look as time allows. I want you to know that you can count on me and you will be the first to know if I do find something,” Mr. Fredrick said.

  “Thank you for your time and I appreciate the help. You have a good day,” Gideon said before leaving.

  Walking back to the jail, Gideon’s spirit started to sag. He was keenly aware that if Mr. Fredrick never found any evidence, it would be unlikely that Druthers’ murder would ever be solved and God knew how many girls would be left in forced prostitution. The two girls in the Lucky Horse also lay heavy on his conscience. If he got to the point that he gave up on solving the murder, he would have to come up with a plan to whisk the girls away to begin a new life and he had no idea how he would do that or find the funds to make it happen. He dropped into his chair, clueless on what to do.

  An hour later, Mayor Hiram Howard strolled into the jail. “How is the arm doing?” he asked.

  “It hurts considerably, but Doc thinks I’m going to be fine. It’s no fun getting shot,” Gideon said.

  “I would say not. The city council had a meeting this morning and wanted me to talk to you. Mr. Thomas raised a ruckus yesterday about his hotel getting shot all up. He’s a big man in this town and carries weight. They wanted me to have you talk to your friend about being more careful with his shooting if such a situation were to arise again,” Hiram said.

  Sitting up straight in his chair, Gideon said, “I was pinned down and shot. Would you have rather had Finnie stand there and watch me get my head blown off instead of the hotel shot up? He saved my life.”

  “No. No. No. They just felt that he was a little zealous with his gunfire. It’s going to cost the city some money to fix the hotel and quiet Mr. Thomas down,” Hiram said.

  “Well, considering that Ike Todd is dead and I’m alive, I think it was a pretty fair tradeoff,” Gideon shot back.

  Ignoring Gideon’s reasoning, Hiram said, “The other thing that they are not pleased with is that they don’t think it looks good for this Finnie fellow to be living in the jail. It reflects poorly that you let friends stay here.”

  “Hiram, would you and the city council like me to resign?” Gideon asked.

  “No. No. No. We all think that you are doing a fine job and are the right man for being sheriff. Everybody on the council is happy with the job that you are doing,” Hiram said.

  Gideon ran his hand through his hair and rubbed his scar. “Good. Now get the hell out of here. If I ever hear this nonsense again, I will resign on the spot and take up ranching full time,” he said, staring at Hiram until the mayor got up and left without saying another word.

  Lunchtime came and passed while Gideon remained sitting behind his desk. Not accomplishing a thing, he couldn’t get the mayor’s visit or the unsolved murder of Druthers out of his head. It had been a long time since his spirit had sunk this low. Failure was not something that he had much experience dealing with or had ever learned to accept gracefully.

  Finnie strolled into the office and immediately noticed the disposition of his friend. “You look about as sour as an old maid in a room full of beautiful virgins,” he said.

  Gideon chuckled in spite of his mood. “Yeah, I guess I am. It has to be a better day than yesterday. At least nobody has shot me yet,” he said.

  “Why don’t you ride with me to see Ethan? It’d do you good to get out of here,” Finnie said.

  “I think you are right. Let’s go,” Gideon said as he stood and picked his hat up off the desk.

  On the ride to Ethan’s cabin, the two men made small talk about guns and the weather. The wind had picked up out of the north, making for a chilly day in May. Both men lamented not wearing a jacket. Gideon never mentioned the visit from the mayor and Finnie avoided pestering him with questions about Mary.

  They found Ethan sitting out on the swing covered in a couple of blankets. He looked thinner in the face and pale with dark circles under his eyes, but he smiled warmly at seeing his two friends arrive.

  Gideon hollered, “Well look there. You must be feeling more alive than dead.”

  “Barely. Walking out here just about tuckered me out, but it’s a start I guess. I had to suffer a lecture from Sarah on how I didn’t need to be breathing cool air, but I won. She insisted on the blankets and now that I’m out here, I’m glad she did,” Ethan said.

  “Glad to see that you are doing better,” Finnie said.

  “I’m glad that you came, Finnie. I’ve wanted to thank you for helping get Pie back for me. I’m much obliged,” Ethan said.

  “Just glad that I could help. It was good for me to find out that I still got a little grit in me,” Finnie said.

  Sarah walked out onto the porch. “I thought that I heard voices out here. Good to see you two. You’re welcome to come in if you can get my hard–headed husband inside.”

  Finnie took off his hat and held it to his chest. “Good to see you again, Sarah. You look as lovely as the last time that I saw you. Ethan is a lucky man.”

  Ethan glanced at Finnie and then at Gideon, his expression revealing that he couldn’t believe the Irishman capable of such flattering talk. All the while, his wife giggled like a schoolgirl. In his younger days, he probably would have punched Finnie, but he now found the flirting downright amusing. “Well aren’t you a silver–tongued devil. I’m telling you now that flattery doesn’t take you very far with Sarah.”

  “How would you know? I don’t remember the last time you tried it,” Sarah teased.

  “That’s the problem. You don’t remember,” Ethan said and then grinned impishly, proud of his retort.

  Sarah started to respond, but seeing the smile on Ethan’s face and knowing all that he had been through, she decided to let him have the last word.

  Turning her attention back to Gideon and Finnie, Sarah said, “Well get down from your horses. We do have chairs.”

  “I was hoping to see Zack and give him a lesson in the fine art of pugilism if you have no objections,” Finnie said

  “By all means. That pretty face of his can’t stand much more thumping before he has a crooked nose or missing teeth and then we might never find him a woman. You should be able to find him straight north of here with the herd,” Ethan said.

  Finnie found Zack riding amongst the herd taking count of the calves. The Irishman watched patiently until the young man completed his task before hailing him. As Zack rode leisurely towards him, Finnie smiled at the realization of his fondness for the young man.

  “By golly, your face is all healed up and you’re back to being as pretty as one of those Greek gods that Homer was so found of,” Finnie said.

  “I don’t know no Homer, but it’s nice to know that you think I’m pretty. I would prefer it be a female and considerably younger than you that would take notice though,” Zack replied.

  Finnie let out a snort. “I’m sure you would, but until you start getting out and about and stop looking so down in the mouth, that won’t happen. Changing the subject, I came out here to begin teaching you how to box,” he said.

  “Are we really going to do this?” Zack asked.

  “We most certainly are. I gave you my word and God knows you need to learn. Boxing is not qu
ite the same as a brawl, but it will serve you well,” Finnie said as he climbed down from his horse.

  Zack dismounted and walked towards Finnie. The young man stood a good nine inches taller than the Irishman, towering over him in near childlike fashion. “You would think that I would be able to fight as big as I am,” he said.

  “There’s a lot more of you to hit, especially when you stand there with your arms so far apart like you’re getting ready to wrap them around a gal for a big old smooch,” Finnie chided.

  Zack smiled and said, “At least a girl wouldn’t have to bend near double over to get low enough to reach my lips.”

  “That may be, but I don’t think either one of us has been kissed in a coon’s age. Now get your fist up. I want your right hand up in front of your ear and you left about six inches out from your cheek,” Finnie said as he watched Zack follow his instructions. “Okay, good. Now bring your elbows down under your fist – there you go. Good.”

  Finnie proceeded to teach him how to stand properly and to drop his hips. Zack grew tense with all the instructions and it took a good while before he made even a semblance of doing the drop correctly. The fiery Irishman was extremely patient, never once raising his voice, but only offering encouragement.

  “Okay, I’m going to throw some slow slap punches at you. You need to concentrate on your stance, hand location, keeping your hips dropped and tightening them as you block the punch, and of course, actually blocking the punch. Just relax. You’re too nervous and it’s making you stiff,” Finnie said.

  “I never knew there was so much to fighting,” Zack said.

  “That, my dear boy, is painfully obvious,” Finnie said before taking a boxing pose.

  Finnie began slapping at Zack, using a variety of punches and charging in to force his pupil to move while trying to keep a correct stance. Zack did a good job of blocking the punches, but his footwork and hip dropping had a long way to go. He move clumsily and stood stiff and too upright. Finally, Finnie called a halt to the session.

  “Not bad for your first time. I want you to practice a couple of times a day at what I’ve taught you. Just pretend to block the punches, but work on your footwork and your hips. And please don’t get yourself into any fights until I teach you some more. All the girls in these here parts want to keep you pretty at least until you pick one of them and the rest might have a different view then,” Finnie said.