Chapter 10
Babysitting two criminals was hardly Hunter’s idea of a good time, but he was the only one who hadn’t spent much time watching the prisoners. Between them, Jeff and Robert had been trying to give him a little extra time with Grace, but today was his turn.
He settled into the office and caught up on some paperwork that he had let pile up.
Robert wanted detailed descriptions of what he and Jeff had found while they were searching for El Aguila’s camp.
Hunter had taken copious notes of anything suspicious or seemingly out of place, and he hadn’t had much time or energy to write them up into something coherent during the week.
Now he took the time to work it out. After all, if he was going to have to spend the day away from Grace, he should put those hours to good use.
Jeff had followed the bandit to the north, then around to the west, and had finally lost him where the land got particularly bad and broken as though someone had dug a bunch of trenches and ravines, making it hard to cross, especially with a horse.
Jeff had a theory that the bandit had led him on a merry chase, intending to double back and head to the actual camp once he had lost Jeff. That was a sound theory. But something about it didn’t work for Hunter.
For one thing, the bandit they had released was the youngest and he had been visibly petrified. Hunter couldn’t imagine a young man who was shaking in his boots from head to toe would be thinking clearly enough to work out a plan to throw pursuers off his trail. That just didn’t seem possible.
Hunter always tried to put himself in someone else’s shoes, to understand them better. He wanted to know how they thought and felt, and that always led to him being able to reason with people. He hoped that he would be able to puzzle things out.
And what he was thinking at the moment was that El Aguila was a smart man.
Hunter thought it was time to be smart too. To that end, he found a map of the area in Robert’s desk drawer. Using four thumbtacks, he fixed the map to the wall in the office and stood in front of it, his arms folded across his chest.
Yes, that was a good idea. Looking at the area laid out like that definitely helped him to think clearly about the area and the space involved.
He turned his thoughts back to El Aguila.
The bandit leader had proven on multiple occasions that he was very smart indeed. That meant that he wouldn’t have a camp in the middle of nowhere that was difficult to defend because you could come at it from all sides.
Hunter reasoned that if he were a bandit leader who was intent on making his mark and taking over an area, he would find a much better base of operations.
It would have to be near enough to the target that his men wouldn’t be exhausted and waste time just getting there.
An hour’s travel would be about the most he would probably allow.
The bandits who had come to Mr. Emmerson’s farm had been on horseback. Their mounts hadn’t looked tired enough to suggest they had been ridden particularly far.
And somehow, a few months earlier, El Aguila and his men had been able to keep an eye on some men who were building a dam to stop the creek that flowed through the town. That had been quite the operation.
If he plotted that on the map and then plotted all the other places where the bandits showed up ready to terrorize folks with zeal, then it showed that El Aguila had split his forces into a few smaller camps around the area and probably also had a central base from which to work.
All that remained was for Hunter to work out where that could be.
He made some tentative pencil marks on the map and then stood back.
“Hey! You in there!” Alberto yelled from the cell. “We got dirty dishes and a full bucket in here. You gotta come and take them away.”
Hunter had been avoiding that chore. It was the worst thing he had to do in a day.
“I’m coming,” he sighed.
He took his time heading to the back.
“Okay, pass the dishes through the slot,” Hunter said when he got there.
Both prisoners were lying on their beds. Something tingled at the back of Hunter’s mind. Something was wrong. He paused and watched them. They were lying still. Then Miguel got up and passed the plates and spoons through the slot by the door.
Hunter took them and placed them in the kitchen in the office. Then he went back. Now Alberto was standing by the door with the foul-smelling bucket. It had a lid, but it never seemed to fit properly, and the smell of human waste wafted from it.
“Okay, you know how this works—you have to step back,” Hunter said sternly. “All the way back.”
He didn’t like doing this alone. It should be a two-man job—one to watch and shoot if the bandits did anything untoward, and one to pull the bucket out.
But he was alone. He had to awkwardly cover both of them with his gun and get the bucket out without spilling anything.
And there was a lot that could spill, based on the putrid smell.
Miguel and Alberto stepped back.
Hunter slotted the key into the door and turned the lock. He opened the door slowly, trying to get a hold of the bucket’s handle without having to actually step into the cell. The bucket was too far. He leaned in.
There was a sudden movement, and pain blossomed on the back of his head. Hunter staggered and sagged to one knee.
Again, the pain came. Then there was the sound of clattering feet on the wooden floor and the cell door slammed shut.
“Lock him in there,” a voice said.
Hunter tried to focus; he tried to see what was going on, but something sticky was running into his eyes. Everything was blurry.
With great effort, he managed to pull himself up. He tried the door. It was locked, but the key was there. He fumbled, turning it the wrong way first and then almost fumbling the key to the floor. His thoughts cleared a little at last, and he managed to get the door open.
Hunter stumbled through the office and out onto the porch.
No, they wouldn’t go that way, he realized belatedly. Would they? He was finding it hard to think. Everything seemed so far away, like he was looking at the world from the top of a deep tunnel.
He went to the back door and heard voices.
“And just where do you fellows think you’re going?” Robert’s voice said.
There was the sound of scuffling, a couple of grunts, and as Hunter opened the back door with the hand not holding his head upright, he saw Robert.
Miguel was on the floor, clearly out cold.
Alberto had a split lip and was trying to take a swing at the sheriff.
The sheriff expertly tripped the bandit, and Alberto went crashing to the ground.
He rolled over and glared at Robert, who stood over him with his gun pointed squarely at the outlaw’s forehead.
“Oh, Hunter, I was wondering if you were here,” Robert said.
“I am,” Hunter said, and the world turned sickeningly, and he sagged to the floor.
The smell was sharp and horrible, and Hunter’s eyes popped open.
“There you are,” Julie said. She was leaning over him, and Hunter wondered where he was. He wasn’t in the station, that was for sure. Nothing smelled like that in Robert’s office.
“Hunter, can you hear me? Do you know what day it is?” Julie asked.
How come she didn’t know what day it was? Surely she should know.
“It’s Saturday,” Hunter said. His voice sounded thick and strange. He swallowed and tried again in a louder voice.
“Oh good, your brain is less scrambled than I thought,” Julie said. She peered into his eyes and held a lit candle in front of them, temporarily blinding him. “Can you tell us what happened?”
“Sure,” Hunter said and paused. Now he wasn’t so sure. What had happened? He began to think back and soon it came to him. He was looking after the prisoners, about to empty their waste bucket, when they hit him. He told Julie what happened.
She smiled and nodded. “Good,” she said. “I think you’re going to be fine. You have been hit on the head, as you said, and although they broke the skin and made your head bleed, they didn’t crack your skull. It seems you have a good hard head.”
“My mother always said I had a thick skull,” Hunter said.
“Well, I’m pleased to confirm that for you,” Julie said. “You might be a little off balance for a day or two. You really shouldn’t be up and doing anything. Rest is the only medicine I can really give for this. Rest and some pain medicine like willow bark. Comfrey tea will help as well.”
He nodded and regretted it instantly when his head erupted in pain.
“We need to get his wife here and have her take him home,” Julie said to somebody.
Hunter finally got a look at the room he was in when she stepped back.
It was her surgery, he realized. She was such a good apothecary that she had a large building she was turning into a sort of hospital.
Though the camp lacked an official physician, Hunter was sure Julie was better than anyone with a fancy degree.
She had been training several other women and men to help her care for patients.
“How did I get here?” Hunter asked.
“Robert brought you,” she said with a smile.
“Yeah, after I got the prisoners you let escape back into their cell,” Robert said harshly, appearing from somewhere or other.
“Robert!” Julie scolded. “Surely you can see this isn’t the right time for that.”
“You caught them and … Yes, I remember now, you knocked them both out cold,” Hunter said.
“No thanks to you,” Robert said. “You should have waited to get the bucket until you had backup.”
“Don’t be so hard on him,” Julie said. “He’s been hit hard. It wouldn’t kill you to be kind.”
“If he wants kind, he should work with his wife,” Robert said testily. “We almost lost our leverage because of him.”
“Robert!” Julie snapped. “That’s not helping. Take your deputy home and make sure he gets to bed. I would love him to stay awake for the next four hours just to be sure that his brain wasn’t injured when he was bashed in the head. Can you manage that?”
“Sure, I’ll babysit him. Because I have nothing better to do,” Robert muttered. “Where is Grace anyway?”
Hunter had no idea but suddenly realized it was rather odd she wasn’t here. He was sure it was normal for a man’s wife to be close by when he’d been injured. Wasn’t it?
“She’s not at home,” Robert added. “I checked.”
“Maybe she’s with Anita at the town storeroom,” Julie said. “They’re friends now. I hadn’t sent for her yet since I first wanted to make sure he was in no immediate danger.”
“You women make friends far too quickly,” Robert growled. “Fine, I’ll go and get her.” He tromped off, his boots heavy on the wooden floor.
“How long …” Hunter began, then trailed off, forgetting what he’d been about to say.
“How long will you need to be in bed?” Julie asked. “Maybe a day or so.”
Hunter sighed and closed his eyes, sinking back into blissful darkness.
When he woke up this time, he was at home and in his bed. He knew that because of the ceiling, which he kept intending to paint properly one of these days.
“Oh, you’re finally awake! Praise God.”
Grace was sitting beside his bed on a chair and looking terribly worried as she leaned in and examined him critically. “Julie said you might never wake if your brain was bleeding.”
Hunter blinked. The afternoon light was streaming in through his window and making his bed very hot. He kicked the covers off, only to find he was in his nightshirt and nothing else.
Even in his addled state, he remembered Grace’s shyness and hastily grabbed the sheet, pulling it over his legs.
Grace cocked her head to one side. “Hunter, how do you think you got into your nightshirt?”
“You?” he asked, then sank back into the bed, head aching like it was fit to burst.
“I closed my eyes.” He thought he could hear her blushing. “But you had blood all over your clothes, so I had to. How are you feeling? Can you try a little tea?”
She leaned in close and held a mug near his lips. He agreed to a sip or two since his throat was dry as the desert.
He managed to keep the sip down and so had another and then another until he finished the tea. Then he ate a sandwich, and by the end of that, he felt a good deal better. His head throbbed, but he wasn’t dizzy, and he wasn’t confused anymore.
“Thank you for looking after me,” Hunter mumbled, taking Grace’s hand in his and pressing it warmly.
“I’m your wife. It’s my job.” She looked close to tears. “I got such a fright when they told me you’d been injured.”
“Did you faint?” he asked.
She frowned and shook her head. “No, you know … I didn’t.” Smiling suddenly, she chuckled. “Huh, I didn’t even feel woozy. It seems that worrying about you being unconscious keeps me conscious.”
“That’s good to know,” Hunter said. “Or maybe you’re just finding your footing in this new world.” He pressed her hand again. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She smiled. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” With a sigh, she rested her head on his chest, and he stroked her hair. It was wonderfully soft, and he loved the feel of it between his fingers.
For the rest of the afternoon, Grace hardly left his side, and when dinnertime came, they ate in his bedroom.
“I have to go and take the prisoners their dinner,” Grace said after their meal. “As punishment, we didn’t give them lunch. Oh—I had invited Jeff for dinner this evening, which obviously didn’t happen. Would you mind if he came to lunch tomorrow? I’m worried he’s not eating properly.”
Hunter chuckled. “I don’t mind. And look at you, trying to look after everyone.”
“Well, someone has to do it,” Grace said, smiling. “I won’t be long. And when I get back, I’ll challenge you to a game of cards. You can pick what we play.”
“Ooh,” Hunter said. “That sounds good. I’ll set things up while you’re out.”
“No, you stay in bed,” she chided. “I’ll take care of everything when I get back.” She bustled out of the room.
Hunter leaned back against the pillows. After a moment or two, he heard the door close, and he slowly and carefully got up. She might scold him later, but he’d go stir-crazy if he lay in bed for another hour.
He decided to go downstairs and put the kettle on. It took him a while to descend the stairs slowly and carefully. Just as he was holding the kettle under the water pump, he heard the unmistakable sounds of gunfire. Hunter’s aching head jerked up in shock.
Hunter didn’t even stop to put his trousers on. He slipped his feet into his boots, threw a jacket on, and, grabbing his pistol, ran from the house.