“That’s the one.”
“I don’t know much more than his reputation, but I can tell you that men like him were why we moved out of town to live here.”
“How far did I make it?” Nick asked.
“Did you come from Virginia City?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you made it just over seven miles,” Doug told him.
Nick felt the weight of those miles drop onto his shoulders. The aches in his muscles flared and he barely had enough strength to keep his head up.
When he looked around again, the quaint little room felt much less like a fever dream. The window was open and decorated with frilly curtains. The furniture looked new and was all freshly dusted. In fact, Nick felt more like a guest in a nice hotel than a bloody fugitive stretched out on a stranger’s bed.
Looking back to Sue, Nick asked, “Why’s she got a gun?”
“Well,” Doug told him, “you haven’t been very easy to manage.”
“God damn, did I give you them bruises?”
Doug winced as if he could feel the dark spots on his cheek and jaw with renewed intensity. “Yep. You sure did.”
“Sorry about that.”
Doug smiled right away and shook his head. “Don’t even worry about it. I’m more concerned with what happened to you.”
When Doug reached out to pat Nick’s hand, Nick reflexively pulled his arm in against himself. A good amount of the blood had been cleaned away, but the bandages had also soaked up more than their share.
“If you don’t want to say anything now, that’s fine,” Doug said. “But at least let us get you a doctor. With you being so…rambunctious before, we didn’t want to start in on stitches until you had a chance to wake up.”
“Did you clean me up?” Nick asked.
“No. My wife did that. I had to hold you down.”
Nick ignored the shotgun in Sue’s hands and looked into her eyes instead. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Her face lost some of its hardness as a timid smile began to shine through. When it did, she looked even prettier than before. “You’re welcome.”
“Will you agree to see a doctor about those hands?” Doug asked. The moment he saw Nick nod, he stood up and let out a relieved breath. “Great. Our neighbor was an army medic. I’ll bring him over and he can do what he needs to do. Sue, I think you can put that shotgun down now.”
Sue looked as if she’d been asked to undress in front of the young stranger. “What?”
“The shotgun. We don’t need it anymore. This young man was just out of sorts. There’s no need to—”
“It’s all right,” Nick said. “Actually, I don’t blame you if you want to keep it. I must look like some kind of animal right about now.”
Although Sue softened up a bit more, she didn’t deny Nick’s statement. She also didn’t put down the shotgun. She did, however, lower it so he wasn’t forced to look down its barrel.
“Since we’re all situated here,” Doug said to his wife, “I’ll take over guard duty and you can send the girls to fetch Bill Mather before making something to eat for our friend here.”
Sue nodded, but didn’t leave until Doug came over to her and took the shotgun. She whispered something in his ear and then nodded to Nick. “Sit tight,” she said. “Bill will be here before you know it.”
After Sue had left the room, Doug pulled up a chair and sat down. He was just about to say something when Sue poked her head in again and fixed him with an intense glare. Flinching as if he’d been knocked in the head, Doug held the shotgun in his hands rather than setting it to one side, as he’d just been about to do.
“Things around here have been a little…rough,” Doug said. He shrugged down at the shotgun and explained, “We moved far enough away so we wouldn’t have to watch those vigilantes ride down the streets, but that also means we need to protect ourselves.”
“I understand,” Nick said. “A lot worse than you have pointed a gun at me.”
“I don’t believe I got your name.”
Before he answered that, Nick paused to wonder how far his own name might have spread. Since he was too tired to think that much, he simply replied, “Nicolai Graves.”
“That’s a name you don’t hear too often. I’ll bet most folks call you Nick.”
“Yes sir, they do.”
“How long have you lived in Virginia City?”
Since the genial smile was still on Doug’s face, Nick figured he wasn’t a known member of the Committee outside of Virginia City. “A few years now,” he said, to answer the question.
Reflexively, Doug’s eyes went to Nick’s hands and the bloody cloths that were loosely wrapped around them. Although another question obviously gnawed at Doug’s brain, he kept from speaking it out loud.
Nick leaned back and savored the silence, no matter how awkward it was.
Over the next twenty minutes or so, Doug seemed perfectly happy with sitting quietly and letting Nick rest his eyes. A bit later, the front door swung open and several sets of footsteps echoed through the house.
“Sounds like the girls are home,” Doug said.
Sure enough, two little girls with blonde hair poked their faces into the room before being pulled out once more. As soon as they cleared the path, a skinny old man wearing a brown suit came into the bedroom. His egg-shaped head was bald on top with a ring of gray hair around the back.
“Bill Mather, this is Nick Graves,” Doug said in his normal, friendly tone.
Mather squinted down at Nick and said, “Let’s see what the problem is.” After pulling a stool next to the bed, Mather sat down and peeled away the bloody cloths. “Jesus Christ,” he squawked. “What happened to your hands, boy?”
“They were shot,” Nick said through clenched teeth. Just looking at the wounds was enough to re-ignite the rage inside him.
“He’s got other wounds, too, but his hands are the worst,” Doug said.
“Well, we’ll just see about that.”
Mather systematically examined Nick from top to bottom. The only sounds he made were the occasional grunts and mutters to himself. His hands worked quickly and without much concern for Nick’s comfort. It reminded him of stories he’d heard from men who’d fought in the War Between the States. They’d told Nick that the doctors in those field hospitals were sometimes worse than the assholes who’d put the bullet in you.
As much pain as Nick felt, he made less noise than Mather. He moved when he was pushed or pulled in one direction or another and he gritted his teeth through the rest. When he saw the needles come out to stitch him up, Nick picked a spot on the wall and stared at it.
“This is going to hurt,” Mather said. “You want a drink or something to bite down on?”
Nick glanced at the old medic and then shifted his eyes back to the spot he’d picked on the wall. He shook his head and swallowed hard, knowing that Red would love nothing more than to see him squirm right about now. That was all it took for Nick to steel himself.
It took hours for Mather to do what he needed to do. In that time, Nick didn’t make a sound.
It was early evening when Doug walked out of the bedroom. Sue fixed him with an upset look and asked, “Shouldn’t one of us be in there?”
Doug propped the shotgun in a corner and shook his head warily. “That poor young man’s barely able to sit up straight. If he’s strong enough to take a swing at Bill, I think that’s a good sign.”
“Did he try anything like that?”
“No. He just stared at the wall.”
Doug and Sue did the same thing until the bedroom door swung open again. Mather stepped out, wiping his brow, and then took the spectacles from his nose so he could clean them.
“How is he?” Doug asked.
“I’d say the bigger question is who is he,” Mather grumbled. “Did either of you find that out before taking him into your home like a stray?”