Echoes of the Heart (36 page)

With a tub piled
high, John hurried back into the room and watched the doctor while he packed
snow on the wound over a towel covering his leg.
 
“This should minimize the swelling and help
with the bleeding, but the infection is spreading into his leg.
 
If there is no improvement by morning, I may
have to amputate.
 
Keep it packed.
 
I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

John knew Cash
would never agree to such measures.
 
He
would rather die than lose a leg.
 
Until
the doctor returned, John kept the leg packed as instructed, watching over his
reckless friend.

 
The doctor, a man of around fifty with
completely white hair had a bedside manner coming close to non-existent.
 
He re-examined Cash’s leg when he returned
from making his rounds.

Hesitant to leave
Cash, John struck a match to light a cigar as he ventured out to locate the
sheriff and relay the past events, thinking he must also send a telegram to
Chad.
 

Stepping into the
office, he found the officer sitting at a marred desk inside a small paneled
room with only one window facing the street.
 
The aroma of coffee assailed his nostrils.
 
“Mind if I have a cup of your coffee?”

           
“Help
yourself.”

John grabbed a mug
and filled it then walked over to the sheriff.
 
“We found those men.
 
Cash got hit
in the leg, but managed to drop both of them.”
 
He stepped closer, placing his palms on the desk and leaned toward the
sheriff.
 

“If you want the
remains, we left them on the trail to Fort Randall.”
 
Long fingers of hatred gripped him and he
twisted his neck to relieve the tension.
 
“I’m staying here with Cash.”
 
John
sat in a wooden straight-back chair next to the untidy desk.

The heavyset man
burly and round, propped his boots on the desk and grinned.
 
“I may send out my deputy, maybe not.
 
I’ll think on it.
 
How bad is Cash’s injury?”

“Doc says he may
want to cut off his leg.
 
I can’t let
him, of course, Cash would shoot me.
 
Can’t say as I would blame him.”
 

           
“Let’s
hope he gets better.
 
I’ve known him a
few years myself, and he isn’t the type of man who would agree to lose a
limb.”
 
He sat up, pulled his legs from
the desktop and leaned on his elbows.
 
“How did it happen?”

           
“He
overheard them talking about the attack on his wife, rushed in like a crazed
bull, just careless and one of them got off a shot before he could take him
down.”

           
“It’s
a shame for sure.
 
I hope she is not a
widow before this is over.”

           
John
finished drinking his coffee then sauntered onto the sidewalk, kicking mud off
his boots.
 
He tended the horses then
rented a room at the hotel. After a bath and a shave, he located the nearest
saloon for a shot of whiskey before revisiting the doctor’s office to check in
on Cash.

The doctor, still
gruff and unsympathetic insisted he must remove the leg at once.
 

John moved closer
and positioned his head only a few inches from the physicians face, his tone
deliberate.
 
“Now look here, doctor,
you’re not cutting the man’s leg off.
 
If
you try, you will have to answer to me as well as Cash, and believe me, you
will not want that to happen.”
 

Seemingly not
intimidated, the surly doctor did not flinch.
 
“Whatever you say, but I will not be held responsible for his untimely
death.”

 
Certain he had made his point, John stepped
back then entered the room where Cash lay, and stood at his bedside.

Nothing had
changed since seeing him last so he walked to his room at the hotel.
 
Spent from the journey and tension, he slept
until dawn.

***

John stretched out
cramped muscles the next morning then dressed while hunger gnawed at his
stomach on his way to see Cash.
 
He was
surprised to see him conversing with the doctor.
 
Cash’s face ridden with pain, was still red
from fever, his leg, angry and swollen from sepsis.
 
The doctor tossed Cash a thin-lipped smirk
before exhaling a huff and leaving the room.

           
Propped
up on pillows, Cash stared through blood-shot eyes.
 
“Doc says he wants to cut off my leg.
 
I told him I would shoot him first.”
 
He grimaced while meeting John’s eyes.

           
“That’s
not real nice seeing as how he probably saved your life.”
 
Aggravation barbed his tone.
 
“You might want to consider Rae before you
kill yourself.”
 
Placing a thumb in his
belt, he stared into a face of granite.
 

           
Cash
rose on one elbow, sarcasm edged his words.
 
“She will probably be happy to be rid of me.
 
I want your promise you will not mention this
to a soul, especially Rae, unless I die of course.
 
I’m not going back half a man.
 
I need your word.”

           
John
hesitated for a moment.
 
“If it’s what
you want, buddy and if you survive just what should I tell her when I appear
without you?
 
You’ll be laid up here for
a while.”

           
“Just
tell them I am out chasing bad guys.
 
You’ll think of something.
 
Maybe
you should leave now before you get snowbound.”

           
Cash
winced in pain.
 
John dropped his eyes to
the floor.
 
“I’ll stay here for a couple
of days to see if you die.
 
That way I
can haul your sorry carcass back with me.”
 
His stomach churned at the thought.

           
The
doctor walked in with spectacles rimming his nose.
 
“John, I would like to talk with you, if you
don’t mind.”

           
“Wait
a sec, John.
 
Bring me a bottle of
whiskey, no, make it two.”

Escorted out into
the anteroom, the doctor closed the door behind him and sat at his desk.
 
“Don’t bring him the liquor; I’ll give him
something for the pain.
 
I don’t need an
angry drunk on my hands.”
 
His expression
looked grim as John waited for bad news.
 
“His leg is no better.
 
If
gangrene sets in there’s nothing I can do except amputate, and at that point,
he could still die.
 
I guess I don’t need
to explain his reaction.”

           
Unexpectedly,
John felt angry at Cash for being so careless while a curtain of doom shrouded
his thoughts.
 
“I knew his answer.
 
Can’t say I would think any differently.”

           
“I’ll
keep him sedated and start with hot compresses to draw out the infection since
the bleeding’s stopped.
 
Will you be
around for a while?”

           
John’s
shoulders slumped slightly as he stared the doctor.
 
“I’ll be here until he shows signs of
improvement or dies.
 
He just got
married.
 
His wife will be
devastated.”
 
He straightened his back
and hooked a thumb in his gun belt.
 
“We
had been searching for the men who attacked her.
 
That’s how he received this injury.
 
She is still recuperating back home.”
 
He shook his head and swiveled toward the
door.
 
“What a mess this has turned out
to be.”

           
He
left to eat in the saloon and have a beer and played poker to pass the
time.
 

The doctor kept
Cash sedated and John guessed it more to keep him quiet than to relieve his
pain.
 

By the second
evening Cash’s leg showed progress.
 
The
news of a possible recovery left Cash in high spirits.
 
The pain had subsided along with the fever.
 
For the first time in days, John felt relief.

           
In
the chair next to Cash’s bed the next morning, John looked over the injured
leg.
 
It still drained green fluid
through the compresses though Cash’s mood had substantially improved.
 
“Look’s like I’ll be here a while stuck in
this damn bed.”

           
Sarcasm
rang in John’s voice.
 
“It is better than
a coffin, pal.
 
I’ll hang around until
tomorrow then I’ll take off.”

           
Cash
raised on an elbow.
 
“Don’t forget your
promise.”

John scowled and
spoke through pursed lips.
 
“I’ll keep
your damn promise.
 
I sure wouldn’t want
anyone worrying about your sorry ass.
 
I
don’t understand why you’re so stubborn, you jackass.”
 
He couldn’t help thinking if he had a woman
like Raeden, he would never leave her thinking he’d ran off gallivanting
without a word while she lay miles off recuperating, speculating where he might
be.

Cash laid back
down, arms folded behind his head.
 
“Let’s say I have my reasons.
 
Just respect my wishes and let it go.
 
And send me a wire about Rae’s convalescence, if it is not too much
trouble.”

Antipathy for his
mule-headed friend grew as he walked with his gear from the hotel room.
 
What could he say to Raeden?
 
No way would he wire Cash about her.
 
He could find out for himself.
 
He sent a telegram to Chad of his departure
and mentioned Cash would stay in Fort Randall on business.

Leaving at
daybreak with the loaded packhorse, John saw the northeastern sky remained
clear while a storm moved in from the west.
 
The vast panorama was highlighted by the outline of the Black Hills.
 
Its dark silhouette contrasted with a
blue-gray sky appearing endless.
 
On his
lonely excursion back to Chamberlain to deliver Cash’s lies, he wondered how
Raeden would take the news.
  
He wanted
to go knock some sense into Cash and make him realize his mistake.

The closer he came
to his destination, the angrier he became.
 
Maybe he should just tell her the truth, but he had given his word.

***

Cash balked at the
news he couldn’t ride or walk for a few weeks, sure the weather would make
travel more rigorous and time consuming if he remained for any length of
time.
 
He desired to see Raeden, but not
in a weakened state.
 
His pride would
never allow him to gimp like some cripple and face the pity in her
perspicacious green eyes.

He tried to read
to take his mind off her but his thoughts always wandered to how she felt in
his arms.
 
At the same time, he despised
his perceived weakness when around her and felt angry at her ability to
disregard him so easily.
          

           
Questioning
the reason for the shift in her disposition toward him, she seemed to despise
him.
 
Her sharp barbs cut to the
quick.
 
That two people could share so
much in friendship and passion and not love one another baffled his mind.
 
He loved her like no other and wanted to keep
her all to himself.
 
Her obsession with
New York and beginning an enterprise seemed petty compared to the life they
could share as husband and wife.

           
It
would be necessary to convince her D.C. would be all she needed to feed her
compulsion, and being a Senator’s wife would be an honor.
 
Sure her temper would cool in a short time,
he looked forward to his new life with the woman he loved.

Forty-one

           
In
the weeks after Cash left, Raeden grew stronger, the bruising diminished, and
the scar above her eye had almost healed.
 
According to Doctor Hathaway, it would fade in time and not mar her
face, and her arm had mended allowing her to ride Arte once again when the
weather permitted.
 
She gained weight and
managed to stir from her sleep before the nightmares became too vivid, waking
more rested, free of night sweats and fear of the dark.

Chad explained
John sent a wire and Cash would be along at some unknown time, but she had yet
to face the deputy and ask more questions.
 
Hurt at first by his desertion and sending no word, she found it easier
to think of him with detachment rather than dwell on the past.
 
He had avenged her honor and for that, she
remained grateful.
 
Knowing them dead
eased the tension plaguing her daily since the assault.