Chapter 24 #2
“You can joke, Caleb Marlowe,” Sheila said with a sharp frown. “But I’ve never seen you in this condition.”
“And you ain’t never seen me rassle with a grizzly before, neither.” From the furrowed brow, he knew she was worried. Caleb figured he looked worse than he felt, and that was saying something.
“Sheila, go and put on some water to heat, would you? Our patient here needs to get cleaned up.”
Reluctantly, she went out.
“That girl has been pacing around here, edgy as a caged lion since you left,” Doc said in a low voice. “She was pretty damn anxious about you.”
Caleb looked toward the doorway where she'd disappeared. He shouldn't have been surprised. Yet hearing the words loosened something tight inside his chest.
Tonight, more than ever, he ought to have been keeping his distance. The ranch was in ruins. Henry was sitting in a jail cell. Everything Caleb had worked to build seemed to be slipping through his fingers. If ever there was a time to stop dreaming about a future with Sheila Burnett, this was it.
But Sheila had always possessed a stubborn streak to rival his own. No matter what Caleb thought, no matter how often he tried to convince himself she deserved better, she seemed determined to make up her own mind.
He winced as Doc helped him out of his vest and his wool shirt.
“Looks like that bear got the better of you, my friend.”
The physician was looking him over, silently circling around to get a good look at his back too. It was the first time Caleb had seen the results of his effort to escape the grizzly.
The left side of his body was one mass of bruises and cuts.
They extended from the top of his shoulder, out over his left arm, and down his chest and ribs to the waist of his pants.
He was fairly certain his hip and leg didn’t look much different.
The colors ranged from purple and black to green and yellow.
He was glad Sheila wasn’t in here to see it.
He looked more like a battered plum than a human.
Doc took a hard look at the lump on Caleb’s head, paying close attention to the burns, as well.
“What really happened?” he asked with a quick glance at the door.
“That was a fact about the grizzly. The she-bear and her cub cornered me on a ledge two days south of here, up in the mountains. Had to jump and was fortunate to have about a hundred feet of pine tree to break my fall.”
“Take a deep breath.”
Caleb breathed in as deeply as he could, which wasn’t too deep.
Doc was feeling his ribs, which was not a pleasant sensation, but Caleb didn’t let on.
“Feels like two broken ribs. Another knot on your head to match the one in back.”
“I suppose if I keep it up, I’ll need to be getting a bigger hat.”
Doc snorted. “You’re lucky you still have a head to put one on.”
He went over to his cabinet and pulled out a couple of bottles and some rolls of bandages.
“Where are Ortiz and Bass?”
Caleb told Doc everything that had happened in Pueblo and how they’d decided to split up. “I know Elijah Starr is behind all of this. He planned the whole damn thing.”
Doc gestured to the burns on his face and hands. “How did you get these?”
“When I got back, some varmints were setting my ranch on fire. Four of them with torches. They burned the barn and Henry’s cabin. I got there in time to stop them from burning my cabin.”
“Recognize any of them?”
Caleb shook his head. “But I know who sent ’em.”
Doc looked at the door again. “No point in bandaging you till we get you cleaned up.”
“Nope, but I can’t stay long. I gotta go.” He paused. “I appreciate you patching me up, but I only came here so you could tell me about Henry. Malachi says you might know something.”
Before Doc could answer, Sheila returned carrying a basin of steaming water and a stack of clean towels.
She set them down on a nearby table and immediately dipped one of the towels into the water.
“Hold still.”
Before Caleb could object, she stepped between his knees and began wiping soot and dried blood from his face.
“I can do that myself.”
“Clearly not.”
The towel moved gently across his cheek and forehead.
Her touch was gentle. Infuriatingly gentle. The sort of thing a man could get used to if he wasn't careful.
Doc hid a smile and busied himself with the bottles and bandages.
Something white dropped from the pocket of Caleb's battered shirt where it hung over a chair.
Sheila stopped. Caleb followed her gaze and immediately recognized the handkerchief. The once-pristine cloth looked as though it had been through a war.
“Told you I'd bring it back.”
A laugh escaped her despite the worry in her eyes, and their gazes locked. For a moment neither of them looked away.
Doc interrupted. “They say Henry killed Frank Stubbs.”
“I don’t believe it. Henry wouldn’t plug a man in the back, even a cur like Stubbs.”
“Henry denies the whole thing. And I’d take his word and yours over any of them.”
Caleb appreciated him saying it. “You talked to Zeke?”
Doc gave a humorless laugh. “Zeke is no help. He says his hands are tied. I’ve been trying to see the judge, but he keeps putting me off. His secretary says he’s too busy.”
“Patterson wouldn’t ignore you without a reason. He’s got something up his sleeve, and he ain’t about to show his hand.”
“It could be the simplest of reasons.”
Doc looked uncomfortable, and Caleb waited.
“I spoke to Edmond Lassiter.”
“Who’s that?”
“A shyster who comes through town fairly regularly. He’s the only lawyer we have access to right now. He’s been talking to the judge to see what Henry’s chances are.”
“And?”
“Lassiter says the judge hasn’t had a hanging in months and he’s looking forward to seeing Henry with a noose around his neck.”
Doc moved to the far side of the surgery, sorting through drawers and bottles. For a few moments, the room grew quiet. Sheila reached for Caleb's hand. Not to examine it. Not to bandage it. Just to hold it.
The simple gesture nearly undid him.
Caleb had survived blizzards, gunfights, stampedes, and a grizzly bear pushing him off the side of a mountain. Yet somehow it was Sheila Burnett's hand in his that made him feel vulnerable.
“Henry didn't do it,” she said softly.
“I know.”
Her fingers tightened around his. “We'll get him back.”