CHAPTER 10

Reluctantly Slim left the doctor’s office. Pausing on the porch he leaned against a support and removed his hat and absentmindedly ran his hand through his hair while he figured out his next course of action. Remembering he wanted to question the girl who had testified against Jess he jammed his hat back on his head and made his way toward the saloon. His long stride eating up the ground under his feet. He was sure someone had paid her to drug Jess and finding out the man’s identity could well be the key to his pard’s release. Deep in thought, he failed to see Sheriff Mort Cory heading his way to intercept him.

“Hey, Slim, where’re you going!” Mort hurried to catch up with his friend.

Startled, Slim came to a halt. “Uh, hi, Mort, did you find out anything at that ranch you visited?

The older man removed his hat and wiped the perspiration from his brow with his bandana then ran it around the inside of the brim of his hat. The day was turning warm as the morning sun rose to it’s apex in the Colorado sky. “No, it was a wild goose chase. How’s Jess doing by the way? He was in pretty bad shape the last time I saw him.”

Slim motioned him to follow as he spoke, “I was on my way to the saloon − I’d like you to come with me. I’ll fill you in there. You won’t believe how much Jess’ situation has changed.”

The lawman stepped alongside his long legged companion and they headed for the saloon. “I hope it’s not for the worse.” Slim lengthened his stride and Mort had trouble keeping up with him. “What’s the rush?”

Slowing down he gave a Mort a wry grin. “I have some questions I want to ask the girl who served Jess whiskey that night. It turns out she lied about how many drinks he had.”

They entered the saloon, chose a table in a secluded corner, ordered coffee and settled back in their chairs. When the girl brought the coffee, Slim asked her if the girl who testified against Jess was there. She said she hadn’t seen her and quickly walked away. Slim started to follow her but Mort laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. Settling back in his chair Slim frowned at his friend in disdain. “She knows something I’m sure of it.”

With a wave of his hand Mort dismissed him. “We can ask the bartender later, he’s bound to know.” He tilted up his Stetson and leaned back in his chair crossing his arms across his chest. “Okay, tell me what’s got you in such a dither.”

Slim rested his forearms on the table and leaned close to Mort. He filled Mort in on everything that had happened since he had left town. “Best news of all is that Jess didn’t kill the storekeeper.” Slim leaned back in his chair and hooked his thumbs on his gun belt a smug grin plastered across his face.

Sitting bolt upright the sheriff said, “That’s a relief, now if we can only prove it.”

“That’s why we need to talk to the saloon girl. She might know who the other man was.”

Slim rolled his shoulders. Then jamming his hat down on his head he stood up. “Let’s find that gal; she’s got a lot of explaining to do.”

The two men approached the bartender a tall and scrawny man with a pinched face and weasel eyes. He was standing behind the bar reading a newspaper. Slim slapped the bar top to get his attention.

Startled the bartender looked up from his paper. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?” Sneering ruefully at Slim he asked, “Say, ain’t you the friend of that murderer, Harper? Is it true he’s in real bad shape and might die?”

Slim’s face turned a livid red but the bartender paid him no heed. “No offence, mind you, but I can’t think of anyone who deserves to die more than him. I was right put out they didn’t sentence him to hang. Ole’ Rafe Connors did good to club him like he done.”

“Why, you…!” Slim lunged across the bar top, his intense blue eyes flashing with anger he grabbed the man’s shirtfront bunching it up in his big fist. Lifting the man clear off his feet he pulled him across the bar top bringing the man’s face closer. Slim was about to deliver a blow to the bartender’s face with his free hand when Cory grabbed the angry man’s wrist.

The lawman spoke calmly. “Whoa now, Slim, take it easy. Let him go and cool off.”

Slim took a deep breath then exhaled. He was visibly shaken by what the man had said. Glaring at the older man’s hand on his wrist he said, “I’ll let him go as soon as he tells us where that girl is.”

Pulling the man’s face closer to his he looked at him menacingly and snarled, “Where’s the girl that served whiskey to Jess Harper the night Reynolds was killed?”

The man swallowed hard before answering. Beads of sweat had broken out on his brow and rivulets of it were running down his face. He answered in a trembling voice. “S-she’s pr-probably at h-home. S-she hasn’t been in to work since yesterday. I-I had planned to check on her later today. Sometimes she goes on a drinking binge and stays away for days on end.”

The angry rancher released his hold on the frightened man’s shirt and the bartender barely kept himself from falling as he slid off the bar. Slim looked at him in disdain a sardonic grin spreading across his face. “Thanks, now that wasn’t so hard, was it? All you have to do now is tell us where she lives.” Slim looked inquiringly at him as he straightened the bartender’s shirt collar then gave him a pat on the chest.

The bartender’s Adam’s apple bobbled when he gulped for breath before answering. “Uh, she lives at the end of Main Street in a little house on the right side of the road. It has a dilapidated picket fence around it that needs painting. You can’t miss it.”

Slim reached in his vest pocket and flipped him a quarter. “Thanks, bartender, you’ve been most helpful.”

The frightened man let the coin fall to the floor and wiped his face with his apron backing away from the bar out of Slim’s reach.

The two men left the saloon and set out in the direction that the bartender had indicated. They found the house and approached the front porch cautiously when they noticed the front door was slightly ajar. The sheriff preceded Slim up the steps.

“What do you think? A girl living alone wouldn’t leave her door open, would she?” Slim asked as he paused on the first step of the porch.

“Not likely.” Cory drew his colt and walked quietly to the door.

Slim drew his weapon and followed. The sheriff slowly pushed the door open wider and stepped into the room. It was a mess of broken furniture and lamps. The kitchen and parlor were all one room and there were dishes and utensils strewn everywhere. Off the kitchen was another partially open door. They entered and saw a woman lying face down on a bed of blood soaked sheets. Mort rolled the body over then hastily pulled his hand away. Both men stepped back and stared in horror at the sight of her slashed and bloody throat.

Slim’s voice was barely audible. “What a horrible way to die ─ looks like she’s been dead a while. Do you think she was murdered because she could identify the man that paid her to drug Jess?”

The lawman swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “It would seem so but we can’t be sure. If the same man killed this woman and Reynolds, he must be trying to cover his tracks.”

Slim nodded in agreement. “Yeah, this isn’t good and it sure doesn’t help Jess either; Iwe’d better report this to Sheriff Mason.”

They found Sheriff Mason sitting at his desk going through old wanted posters. Mort told him about the grisly scene they had found and accompanied the sheriff back to the dead woman’s place. The shock of seeing the dead girl’s slashed throat left the tough as nails sheriff visibly shaken and he looked like he was going to throw up. Gingerly he covered the girl with the bloodied bedspread. He swallowed hard and glanced around the room and then at Mort and Slim. “Did either of you move anything in here?”

Mort shifted his weight and averted his eyes from the grisly scene. “I rolled her over to see if she was still alive and then I put her back the way we found her. Everything else is like it was when we arrived.”

He questioned Cory and Sherman wanting to know why they had visited the girl; all the while staring at the mound under the bloodied bedspread. Finished with his questions he seemed satisfied with their answers.

Slim checked the time on his pocket watch. “Sheriff, if you don’t need us for anything else, we have business to take care of.”

The sheriff lifted his hat off his head and scratched his head. “No, not now, I’ll get your formal statements later.”

It was already mid afternoon when Mort followed Slim to the hotel. The lawman settled into the room’s only chair and the big rancher sat on the bed.

“Okay, Slim, tell me about this harebrained idea of yours to use Jess as bait for the killer.”

Slim hung his hat on the bedpost and leaned forward resting his forearms on his knees he explained their plan. “We haven’t worked out all the details yet. We figured the killer would make an attempt to kill Jess before he could remember. The girl’s death proves we’re on the right track.”

Mort rubbed his chin pensively. “I agree. Even though he’s being guarded around the clock, I think one of us should be with Jess at all times from now on − especially at night.”

Nodding his agreement Slim stood up. “It’ll be dark soon, so why don’t I take the first watch? You get some shuteye and relieve me around midnight.”

Running his hand through his hair Cory nodded his agreement. “I am a little beat. See you around midnight.”

Sherman left the hotel and his friend went to his room. Recalling his conversation with the lawman Slim felt a twinge of doubt and foreboding and the hair rose on the back of his neck but he shrugged it off. ‘Everything is going to be all right’, he reassured himself. He had to keep believing that their plan would work; Jess’ future depended on it.

******

Walking briskly toward the doctor’s office Sherman was unaware of the dark figure shrinking back into the shadows of the hotel’s alley as he passed. Unknown to Slim or Mort, the man had followed them from the murdered girl’s house after they’d shown the sheriff their discovery. Tailing them to the big man’s room he’d listened outside the door while they talked. He’d heard almost everything the two men had discussed including their plans for trapping a killer. The thing concerning him the most was Harper’s returning memory. He was pretty sure the injured man had not seen his face in that alley but he couldn’t afford to take a chance that Harper might have caught a glimpse of his face and eventually remember. He’d hurriedly slipped down the back stairs and out into the shadows of the hotel’s alley when he heard the men preparing to leave.

He mumbled to himself his face contorting into an ugly sneer. “So, they’re setting a trap are they? Sure was nice of them to get Harper out of that cell where I can get at ‘im. Think I’ll pay Harper a visit tonight. I sure appreciate them letting me know about those shackles and where the key is.” He chuckled as a plan began to form in his mind. “If I work this right, I’ll have ‘im sunk even deeper into trouble with another murder over his head and he’ll be dead to boot.”

GUILTY

CHAPTER 11

The sound of footsteps approaching nudged me to hazy awareness and I reluctantly opened my eyes. Doctor Owens’ stooped figure swam into focus and for a moment I was confused by the unfamiliar surroundings. Memory returned and I felt a weight on my shoulder and wisps of hair against my neck and cheek. Cheryl’s head rested on my shoulder, a hand clinging to mine on my chest. I gently shook her hoping she’d wake up. But she didn’t respond.

Noticing my discomfort Doctor Owen shook her shoulder. “Cheryl, honey, wake up I need to examine your young man.”

Cheryl sat up and looked around sleepily then noticed me rubbing my arm. “What? Oh, my, Jess, are you all right? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

I hid a grimace as the feeling came back and numbness turned to tingling needles or pain. I managed a wry grin. “I’m fine.”

Smiling wanly, she relinquished her chair and stood at the foot of the bed to watch. When he pulled down the blankets to begin his examination I clutched at them to make sure they didn’t fall off. My face burning, I glared at Cheryl until she pouted and left the room.

Finished with his examination Doctor Owen straightened. “Well, young man…” He looked mighty pleased with himself. “You seem to have weathered the trip over here just fine. I think the bleeding in your abdomen has stopped.”

“Does that mean I don’t need any more Laudanum?” I was practically pleading with him.

“We’ll see how you do. I’m pleased with your progress but you’re still not out of danger. to continue to remain in bed most of the time and get as much sleep as you can for at least a few days more.”

I frowned. My backside had begun to feel like it was permanently glued to the bed sheets.

“Now, don’t fret, Jess, I did say ‘most of the time’ I’m going to let you sit up for a while this evening and you can feed yourself. If you continue to improve during the next couple of days you can sit in a chair and hopefully graduate to taking a few steps soon after.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “That would be great.”

Cheryl returned carrying my “lunch” on a tray and set it on the doctor’s desk. “You must be famished. You fell asleep before you had your breakfast.”

Doc Owen vacated the chair. “Do you have any questions?”

I looked wistfully at the tray of food and my stomach growled. I tugged at the blankets. My face began to burn and I whispered. “I could use some new underwear.”

He grinned slyly. “I’m sure Cheryl can bring you some from her store later this afternoon.”

She had heard my request and blushed but kept a straight face. “Of course I’d be happy to.”

She fed me my lunch and we talked for a while and she left. Doc sat down at his desk and began studying a medical book, leaving me to my thoughts. Despite feeling tired, I couldn’t fall asleep. I was too preoccupied wondering what the future held for me. I was used to taking care of myself and my present state of health left me feeling helpless and defenseless as a new born calf.

GUILTY

CHAPTER 12.

Shortly after Cheryl left, Slim appeared in the entryway of doc’s treatment room and handed his weapon to the deputy. He ambled over to my bed and sat in the chair that she had vacated.

I smiled up at him, happy to see the big lug. “How’s it going?”

He looked grim and I became uneasy. “Things could be better. How are you doing? You didn’t look so good when I left.”

“Doc says I can sit up for a while to eat my dinner.” My news didn’t remove his look of doom. “Say, what’s got you looking so down? I thought you’d be happy for me.”

Looking even grimmer he told me about the death of the saloon girl.

I clenched my fists and pounded on the bed in frustration and anger. “Dammit Slim, I know she was responsible for getting me into this jam, but she didn’t deserve to die. I feel like I’m to blame.”

“Take it easy Jess, don’t get yourself riled up.” Compassion spread across his face. “You can’t blame yourself; none of this is your fault.”

I knew he was right but I couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of guilt. “So, have you and Mort come up with anything to help my case?”

He told me about his conversation with Mort Cory and the plan they had devised to trap Nathan Green.

“So, when do you plan to make this happen?”

He shifted in his chair and leaned back. “As soon as Doc Owen says you’re well enough we’ll set the trap.”

I fiddled with a corner of my pillow. “In that case, we can start the wheels rollin’ today. I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

“Oh, you do? We’ll have to see what the doctor says.”

Scowling I said, “The sooner we get this over with the better. Time is running out on me.”

“We have plenty of time. Green isn’t going anywhere as long as he thinks he has a chance with Cheryl.”

“I guess you’re right.” I yawned, growing tired. “Think I’ll catch a little shuteye like the doc suggested.”

Slim squeezed my shoulder. “Rest easy, Pard, I’ll be here when you wake up. As I said, one of us will stay with you from now on.”

I woke just before Cheryl returned carrying a brown paper bag that probably contained my underclothes. Since Slim was with me the deputy refused to let her pass.

Doc Owen greeted her at the door and asked for the package and told her that Slim would be staying the night and suggested she go home and rest. She looked at me wistfully then stared at Slim. “You take good care that no harm comes to him Slim Sherman.”

“Well Jess, what say we get you dressed?”

I nodded enthusiastically until I saw the doctor was holding a spoon filled with Laudanum.

“It’s to help you relax.”

I grudgingly swallowed it and shivered at its bitter taste.

Doctor Owen had the deputy to remove the shackle from my ankle. The deputy stepped back out of the way but kept his fist on his gun butt. Much to my chagrin the doctor made it clear I was to do nothing but let them dress me as though I were a helpless baby. By the time they finished I was sitting on the edge of the bed hanging on for dear life.

“Well, Jess, how’re you doing?” Doc Owen asked as he peered at me over his spectacles.

“Well, the room has stopped spinning and I don’t think I’m going to collapse or anything like that.” Truth be told, my heart was pounding and my strength was running out through my toes. Beads of sweat began to break out my forehead and I felt weak as a newborn kitten.

“Good, we’re making progress.” He looked into my eyes and felt my pulse. “Nevertheless, I don’t want you to overdo it so I want you back in bed leaning against some pillows while you eat. You can sit up again tomorrow.”

Before I knew it, they had me back under the covers and propped up against a stack of pillows. My heart stopped pounding, the lightheadedness had almost disappeared and the drug was helping dull the throbbing ache in my insides.

Leaning over me Slim lifted the blankets covering my foot and clamped the leg shackle back on my ankle. I scowled at him. “Thanks, Pard.” My voice dripped icy sarcasm.

Slim glared at me as he straightened up.

Martha Owen walked into the room as if on cue carrying a tray of food. It smelled good and I realized I was hungry.

The meal was a big bowl of more beef and a cup of tea. “Thank you Mrs. Owen. It looks delicious.” I did my best to hide my disappointment. I had hoped for something a little more rib sticking like a steak or even fried chicken. Hell, I would’ve even settled for some of Jonesy’s mulligan stew.

Martha Owen smiled broadly and squeezed my hand. “I’m glad you’re feeling better young man.”

“Martha, I want to see Jess settled once he finishes eating then I’ll be in for dinner. By the way, Mr. Sherman will be joining us and is staying the night.”

By the time I finished “eating” I was tiring fast and began sliding sideways on the pillows. The spoon slipped from my fingers and my head began to nod; my eyes drifted shut.

I came awake with a start when Slim grabbed me under the arms to keep me from falling and helped me sit up again. “Easy Pard… you okay?”

I nodded. “I’m fine; I just felt really tired all of a sudden I think that Laudanum doc gave me isn’t helping either. Think I’ll just scoot back down under the covers and take a little nap.”

He helped me get settled and glanced inquiringly at the doc.

Doc Owen pulled Slim aside, and quickly gave me the once over with his stethoscope.

“I’m afraid we’ve worn you out today. Whether you want to admit it or not, all this activity’s taken a toll on you.” He patted my shoulder and nodding to Slim walked to the door leading to his private quarters.

There was something I had wanted to ask Slim earlier but with the deputy looking on and dinner arriving I didn’t get a chance. I was too tired to remember what it was, figured it would come to me later.

****

Slim stood up and flexed his back after he straightened the covers over his injured friend. He checked Jess’ ankle shackle to make sure it wasn’t too tight. Looking at his friend’s chained ankle, he heaved a deep sigh. It was a vivid reminder of the life Jess would face if he, Slim Sherman, didn’t succeed in trapping the real killer. He vowed he would move mountains to see that his best friend never served a day in prison. The sun was setting and Slim helped the doctor light the lamps in the dining room and the one on the wall over the desk in the little hospital room, its warm glow casting soft light on his sleeping friend.

Martha Owen announced that dinner was ready. They ate in silence. Mrs. Owen cleared the table when they finished eating and retired for the night.

Slim and the doctor remained at the table drinking coffee. The elderly doctor quizzed Slim about what he planned to do now that Jess was out of jail. Slim explained everything reassuring the doctor that they would take every precaution to keep his patient out of harm’s way. His main concern was how long it would be before they could put their plan into action.

Nodding his head Doc Owen said, “If Jess continues to improve like he has, you should be able to put your plan to work in a couple of days.”

“That soon? That would be great, Doc.” Slim pushed his chair back from the table and stood looking down at the older man. “You look tired. Why don’t you turn in early tonight? I’ll call you if Jess needs you.”

Doctor Owen stifled a yawn. “You look worn out yourself and I advise you to take advantage of the cot I have in the hall closet.”

“No thanks. I plan to stay awake until Sheriff Cory arrives at midnight. I’ll rest later. Good night, Doc.”

“Good night, Mr. Sherman.”

Slim sat in the cushioned armchair by the doctor’s desk. He spotted a medical book on the top of the roll top desk; its title − “Treatments of Internal Injuries” catching his eye. He hoped the book would help him stay awake until Mort showed up but fatigue overcame him and his head began to nod. The book slid out of his limp fingers and by 11:00 p.m. he was sound asleep.

****

GUILTY

CHAPTER 13

I awoke to agonizing pain and choking on a wadded cloth being forced into my mouth. A heavy weight on my chest pinned me to the bed. When I struggled to push it off and pull out the gag my attacker grabbed my wrists and began roughly wrapping a rope around them. I tried to pull away but was too weak; hot pain knifed through my abdomen when he increased the pressure on my chest. A woman’s voice called out asking the him not to be so rough. I stopped struggling and the weight lifted from my chest. I opened my eyes and tried to focus on the blurry shadows in the dimly lit room.

“I thought that would get your attention, Harper, now be a good boy and lie nice and still and let me finish.”

All I could see was his outline but there was no mistaking the owner of that voice; my attacker was Rafe Connors. He threw the covers on the floor then jerked me upright by the shoulders, winding the rope around my upper body. I bit down on the gag against the pain. A woman’s small hand reached out of the darkness and stopped him.

“Wait, put this pillow under his hands then you can finish tying him up. We want him alive when we get there, don’t we?” I couldn’t believe my ears for there was no mistaking Cheryl’s voice. My mind whirled with confusion.

The pillow was placed as she suggested and Rafe finished wrapping the rope around my torso. I couldn’t believe she was helping him. Wherever they were taking me I doubted I would survive the trip. Panicking, I weakly kicked out; I tried to spit the gag out to yell for help but it was tied tightly in place. All I accomplished was cause myself more pain and enable Connors to catch my legs and wrap the rest of the rope around them. I lay spent, my insides throbbing; I was close to passing out. I drew in a deep breath through my nose and tried to think… Slim…

Where was Slim? My eyes frantically searching the room I wondered how Connors had gotten past my partner, and in the dim light of the lamp, I saw him. He was sprawled face down on the floor next to the doctor’s desk. His pistol rested in his outstretched hand and the side of his head was covered with blood. In despair I struggled with my bonds, pain seared through me and a muffled cry escaped the gag in my mouth. Slim, what have they done to you? Please God, let him be alive! I tried to detect some sign of life and found none; the body lay with the unmistakable stillness of death - Slim was dead. Grief worse than any pain I had ever endured tore through me and I vowed that somehow I would make them pay if it was the last thing I did.

“What’s the matter, Harper? You didn’t think I’d leave your friend alive did you? As he spoke, Connors stepped into the light and let me see his sneering face. Hatred burned in my eyes as he stepped back to stand beside Cheryl. He wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her closer and when the light touched her face she turned away. “Are you surprised to see my cousin helping me, gunslick?”

Cheryl smiled menacingly at me. “What’s the matter, Jess, did you really think I’d believe your lies? I’ve pretended to love you hoping I’d have an opportunity to avenge my father’s death. When Rafe came to me tonight and told me his plans, I jumped at the chance.”

I tried to scream at her through the gag – cursing her - and she cringed when she saw my face contorted with anger. I had been totally taken in by her. I should have known she wouldn’t be able to forgive me. Everything she had said and done was designed to gain my trust – everyone’s trust - and most of all, my love. She had done her job well ─ I had fallen hopelessly in love with her. How could I have been so wrong? What a fool I’d been. I tried to relax and save my strength. I didn’t know how but they were going to pay for killing Slim.

Connors pushed her toward the foot of the bed. “We’ve wasted enough time - let’s put Harper in the wagon.” He looked around the room and his eyes came to rest on the stack of my neatly folded clothes lying on a chair. “Wait, he wouldn’t be a very convincing fugitive or kidnapper if he escapes wearing only his underwear. Get his clothes and lay them on top of him.”

Cheryl picked up a blanket and laid it over me with my clothes on top. Stepping to the foot of the bed her eyes softened as she caught me staring at her. “If you don’t fight us it’ll go easier for you, Jess.”

Rafe grabbed my under my arms and lifted me to a sitting position. Pain stabbed through me and the room tilted as I fought to stay conscious. I must have blacked out and when I regained my senses I was lying in the wagon covered by blankets. My head rested in Cheryl’s lap

Gripped with revulsion I tried to pull away from her but she held on to me and stroked my forehead. “Easy, Jess.” She whispered. “This isn’t what it seems. I have to go along with him or he’ll kill us both.” She poured the watery contents of a small vile onto a cloth. “I’m sorry, Jess, but this is for your own good.”

Before I could turn my head away, she pressed the soaked cloth over my nose and held my head tightly pinned to her thighs. I couldn’t move and recognizing the smell of ether I held my breath. When I could hold it no longer I sucked in air and the sickly smelling fumes engulfed me and I knew no more.

I don’t know how long I was out. The jarring movement of the wagon rolling over rough terrain brought me brutally back to reality. My head hurt and what little I could see in the moonlit night was blurred. My insides were being jarred unmercifully and the pain was unbearable. The rope that bound my hands and feet was so tight I couldn’t feel them. Each jolt of the wagon tore an agonizing moan from me. As the hazy fog of the ether retreated I realized I was sitting with my back against Cheryl’s soft body and her arms were wrapped around me. Connors sat on the wagon seat with his back to us. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more punishment the wagon rolled to a halt.

“Jess, are you all right?” Cheryl whispered. “I know the ride has cost you dearly but it’s over. We’ve arrived at the cabin.”

I wondered where the cabin was located. From the position of the stars I gathered we had traveled for a couple of hours. We seemed to be at the base of a looming mountain and out of the corner of my eye I could see the walls of a building.

She shifted her shoulders toward the front of the wagon “Rafe, can I take the gag out now? I want to give him some water.”

He turned his head toward her glanced at me then shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a waste of good water, but, go ahead. There’s a canteen under the seat.” The wagon shifted with Connors’ weight as he jumped to the ground.

Retrieving the canteen she removed the gag and I took in deep gulps of air. I hadn’t realized how much the gag had restricted my breathing. My insides throbbed with rolling spasms as though the wagon was still moving. She helped me drink and I swallowed the water greedily until she pulled the canteen away.

“Take it easy Jess, you’ll make yourself sick.” I studied her face confused by the concern in her voice and even in the dim moonlight I sensed compassion in her eyes.

“I- I ahh…” Was all I could utter. My mouth and throat were so dry I could only croak like a frog.

She gave me a few more swallows and pulled the canteen away again.

It was still hard to for me to speak. “Ch-cheryl, w-what’s g-going on? W-wh-y?

“Ssh-h, Jess.” She whispered in my ear. “He’ll hear you. I’ll explain everything later.” She moved out from under me and eased my head and shoulders down. Moving to my feet climbed from the wagon. “Just relax and let us do the work.”

I knew she was right and resigned myself to being handled like a sack of potatoes. Rafe grabbed a handful of blankets at my feet and pulled me toward the back of the wagon. At the edge of the wagon bed Rafe pulled me to a sitting position and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. My head reeled while they untied my feet and put on my boots. Connors dragged me off the wagon and I almost collapsed to the ground. Cheryl draped a blanket over my shoulders and held me up. Supported between them, my hands and arms still bound, I stumbled and limped into the cabin. They settled me onto a cot under a window and I lay back, weak and dizzy. My gut was burning and I shut my eyes against the pain.

Chuckling Connors gleefully said, “Harper, all we have to do now is get you dressed so you’ll at least look the part of an escaped prisoner.”

Opening my eyes I snarled, “Connors, if it’s the last thing I do I’ll see that you pay for killing Slim Sherman even if I have to do it with my bare hands.”

“Harper, you’re doomed and you know it. I’m going back to town and help Mason form a posse. You see, not only have you killed the deputy and Sherman; you’ve kidnapped the daughter of the man you’ve been convicted of killing. I’ll have no trouble getting every able man in Boulder to join a posse to go after you.” He pulled his revolver and leveled it at me. “Cheryl, untie his hands and help him get dressed.”

When it was done I collapsed onto my side and drew my knees to my chest hoping to gain some relief from the spasms in my stomach. Gazing into her eyes as she leaned over me I noticed a trace of tears rimming her eyes.

Rafe grinned sardonically when he saw me go down. “That about does it, Cheryl.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her away from me. “Be sure you work the posse into a killing frenzy by yelling and screaming like a good little hostage when they arrive.” Rafe looked at me an ugly sneer on his face. “Cheer up, Harper, won’t be long before you’re out of your misery. I’ll make sure of it.”

He handed the discarded rope to Cheryl. “Tie this around his wrists and then tie it to the bedpost.”

She did as she was told, turning her back to him her eyes filled with tears again her expression was that of remorse. I couldn’t figure her out - she was acting more like Connors’ captive than his accomplice.

When she was done he pushed her aside and checked her handiwork. “That should hold you while I’m gone.” He grinned widely showing his broken, yellowed teeth. “What…? No more threats?’ He laughed and raked the pistol sight across my cheek. I felt my skin tear and blood trickled down my cheek. He laughed again and turned to Cheryl. He pulled a pistol from his belt and handed it to her. “Take this and while you’re screaming for help fire over the posse’s heads. They’ll be so riled up Harper here won’t stand a chance. They’ll most likely shoot him on sight.”

She turned and looked unhappily at me at me while she nodded. I tried to make sense of what was going on. Cheryl appeared to be his accomplice, but her protectiveness plus the occasional furtive, tearful glances at me belied her words and actions. She was confusing the hell outta me.

Staring up at Connors I knew that anything I said would be a waste of breath and energy. For the moment I was trapped and helpless. . . . Slim couldn’t help me this time . . . he was dead. . . . grief washed over me at the memory of Slim’s blood-soaked head. Slim, why didn’t you go home?

Rafe holstered his iron. “Cheryl, I wouldn’t release Harper until I arrive with the posse. He don’t appear to be much of a threat, but you never can tell what a betrayed and revenge driven man might be capable of.” He laughed loudly then turned and left. Within minutes after he stepped out the door, I heard the sound of a horse galloping away.

CHAPTER 14

Cheryl looked out the window and then began to untie the ropes that bound my wrists. “Thank God, he’s gone. Jess, you have to believe I was never a part of Rafe’s scheme. I had to pretend I was helping him or he’d have killed me and no telling what he would’ve done to you. I’ve got to get you out of here before Rafe gets back with the posse. There’s a place nearby where we can hide.”

She grabbed my arms and I jerked them out of her hands - I still didn’t trust her. I rubbed my wrists and glared at her. “Give me one good reason why I should trust you?”

Cheryl wrung her hands nervously as tears welled up in her eyes. “I had to say those things to make trust me. I knew I could protect you if he thought I was cooperating with him.” She took hold of my arms again. “I’ll help you get up. Please, trust me Jess, we don’t have much time.”

I pulled out of her grasp; I wasn’t ready to believe her entirely. I needed time to think and rest. I didn’t have the strength to move, much walk. All the fight had been beaten out of me in that ride from town. “Look, Cheryl, whether I believe you or not, I’m in no shape to go anywhere. I couldn’t make it to the door even with your help. I need to rest – there’s still time. Rafe won’t make it back for at least a couple of hours or more.” I turned my head away from her and gazed out the widow. The gray haze of dawn was just appearing on the horizon.

“But, Jess…” She stopped in mid sentence. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and turned over on my side with my back to her and she said no more.

I did need the rest, but I also needed to mull over all she had told me. My heart and gut told me to believe her, my head be damned. If she’s playing me for a fool again, I’d just have to live with it, or would it be the death of me? Only time would tell. I did know that I was a goner if I stayed here but I was so weak I could barely lift my head and the pain in my gut was paralyzing. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. Gratefully, I must have I passed out.

Sometime later, I woke still weak and groggy and I carefully rolled over on my back,. Looking out the window I could see the sun peeking over the horizon its glow reflecting off the glass. I realized I hadn’t been out very long. I searched the room for Cheryl. She was standing at a stove cooking. She had changed into a man’s shirt, a pair of pants and boots. “Tell me where you want to take me and how you plan to get there and before we go anywhere, I need to eat whatever that is you’re cooking.”

She turned to me, a tenuous smile on up her face. “Oh, Jess, I am so glad you’re awake. It’s only beans and hardtack, but they should give you some strength. It’s almost ready and I’ve made some coffee too. Shall I bring it to you?”

“No, if you’ll help me get to the table I’ll drink it there. I think it’s time I started feeding myself.” Anyway that was my intention whether I’d be able to follow through, was another question.

“But, Jess…”

“No ‘buts’ about it, if I’m going to leave here under my own power, then I better be able to handle a fork and a cup of coffee.”

With her help, I managed to climb out of the bed and stand up. I swayed with dizziness and she quickly wrapped her arm around my waist. Leaning heavily on her I managed the few steps across the room and eased into the chair. It had taken every ounce of strength I had and I sat winded and gasping for breath.

She spooned the beans on two plates and placed one in front of me. “Jess, I was such a fool to think that I could get you away from this cabin before Rafe returned with the posse. What are we going to do?”

“Why don’t you tell me your plan and let me decide whether or not I’m up to it.” I loaded a fork with beans and shoveled them in my mouth. They hit my empty stomach like lead pellets. After the second bite I felt full and queasy. I shoved the plate away and tried a sip of coffee. It didn’t help. I looked up at her and shook my head in frustration.

She held my hand and squeezed it. “I’m so sorry, it’s all there is.”

“I’ll be alright - my stomach isn’t used to solid food, so maybe it’s just as well. I could use some water.” She filled a cup and I was able to down it all. “Cheryl, you need to eat and while you do, tell me about your hiding place.”

She ate and talked between mouthfuls, describing a hidden miner’s cabin covering a played out mine on a ledge a short distance up the mountain. It even had a stream running through it. She swore no one knew about it and that it was impossible to find even if someone were to stand in front of the entrance.

I began to feel a ray of hope. “Did Rafe take both horses?”

Cheryl shook her head and replied. “He left them hitched to the wagon. He rode a horse he brought here a few days ago.”

“Could a horse make it up there?”

Her face brightened. “Yes, there’s a hidden trail cut out of the rock - the miner must have used it to haul out his ore.”

“With any luck I should be able to ride up there. I’ll rest here while you unhitch the horses.” I tried to sound confident but I was tiring fast. I drank some more water and propped my elbows on the table. I held my head trying to will away the wave of weakness that was suddenly threatening to overcome me. I doubted that Cheryl would be able to get me on a horse by herself. Pain was building below my ribs again. The biggest threat to my life might not be a vengeful posse but the return of the bleeding in my stomach. It had only been a little over four days since Doc Owen had confined me to bed. Cheryl had tried her best to protect me and now I feared it hadn’t been enough. That wagon ride here might well prove to be the death of me...

******

“Jess, wake up, everything is ready. It’s time to go.” Cheryl’s voice sounded far away but I could feel her hands on my shoulders shaking me. It was too much effort to open my eyes. I feebly pushed her hands away. “Just let me rest a little longer, I’m too tired to move…”

“Jess Harper, are you going to sit there and let Rafe Connors win? I thought you were a fighter. I never figured you for a quitter when the going got rough. I expected more from you than this.”

At the mention of Connors’ name and spurred on by her cutting words, I pushed myself up off the table and rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. I gazed at her and tried to focus; finally her features solidified. “You don’t give up do you?” I grinned weakly. “Give me a hand and I’ll give it a try.” She ducked under my arm and helped me to my feet while I used the table for support. Leaning heavily on her as she clung to my waist we stumbled toward the door. Finally we stepped out into the golden light of dawn. The horses were free of the wagon and one was still wearing most of the wagon tracings including the collar. I looked at her questioningly.

She smiled. “I thought if I left the collar and most of the tracings on one of the horses you could hang on better.”

I nodded my approval. I hung on to the door jam while she brought the horse alongside the porch. She placed a low stool on the porch next to the animal’s side to form a stair to its back. All I had to do was step up, throw a leg over and pray the horse didn’t move out from under me. It took every ounce of strength I could muster to climb onto the horse’s back but with Cheryl shoving and pulling I finally got a leg over. A wave of dizziness and pain hit me and I slumped forward clinging to the collar for dear life. Before I could protest, Cheryl stuffed a pillow between me and the collar and used the long reins of the bridle to tie my legs to the harness tracings on each side. She looped the remainder of the reins around my waist and pillow then secured it to the harness collar. Finished, she stepped back and studied me concern lining her pretty face. “Are you okay? Jess, you’re sweating and your face is white as a sheet.”

“I just hope this horse doesn’t fall down the mountain with me.” I said sarcastically. Lately it seemed like I was forever being hog tied, shackled or strapped to something.

She ignored my remark, grabbed my horse’s lead line and nimbly climbed astride the other horse, leading mine toward the flatiron outcropping behind the cabin.

When the horse took the first step, I realized that Cheryl had been right to tie me to him. I’m sure I would’ve slipped off after the first few strides over the rough and rising terrain. She her horse through stiff, wiry brush filled with thorns. We skirted clumps of prickly pear and a few scattered pines finally coming upon the old miner’s trail. Cut out of the rock, the old trail rose gradually toward a ledge on the mountainside. The climb to the cabin seemed unending and I concentrated on clinging to the collar as my horse navigated the trail. She went slowly and stopped often but the swaying and jarring motion of the horse’s walk was agonizing and I lost all sense of time. Finally the horse stopped. Barely conscious, I slumped against the harness collar. I felt Cheryl untie my legs and remove the rope from my waist. I had no strength left to hang on and slid sideways to the ground. She tried to hold me up but I was dead weight and we both fell in a heap with me landing on top of her. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ride out the wave of agony.

She squirmed partway out from under me and sat with my head and shoulders resting against her legs. She wrapped her arms around me and clung to me tightly her body shaking with her sobbing. I raised a trembling hand to her cheek and brushed away the tears with my thumb.

“Cheryl” I whispered huskily. “Cheryl honey, it’s gonna be all right, you’ll see. Please don’t fall apart on me now. You need to be strong enough for the both of us. Don’t cry on my account − I just need to rest a while, that’s all.” Hoping to comfort her I reached up and pulled her face toward mine until our lips met and we kissed.

She blushed and said, “Well, Mr. Harper, you must be feeling better, so why don’t we get off the ground and go into the cabin.”

Puzzled, I looked for an opening and saw nothing but a massive wall of rock along the ledge we were on. The ledge followed the side of the mountain and seemed to go on forever. The wall was cracked and split in several places and it took a slight bend as it followed a crevice in the mountainside. Pointing to a four inch crack in front of us she said, “That’s the edge of a slab of flatiron rock hiding a large opening that leads to the cabin” She helped me to my knees.

I stared at the crack and still couldn’t imagine there being an opening large enough for a man much less a horse. “I don’t believe it, but, if you say so…” Using a boulder for leverage I pushed myself off the ground while she pulled and half lifted me to my feet. Stumbling under my weight she led me to the crack and then I saw that it was actually an opening about four feet wide. The inner wall curved back into the mountainside and widened into a large natural cave. Blocks of rock and timber walled in part of the opening of the cave forming the front wall of the cabin. The top of the cave served as the roof. The door was made of a large thick slab of wood that swung open easily when Cheryl pulled on it. Once inside she led me to a wide cot placed up against the chiseled out rock that formed the back wall of the cabin. She removed my boots and fussed over me trying to make me comfortable and then spread a blanket over me.

Feeling hot and clammy I had trouble concentrating. My stomach was knotting with pain and I was on the verge of passing out. I reached for her hand and squeezed it weakly. “Cheryl, I want you to go back to Boulder and get Doctor Owen. Before you leave be sure you wipe out all the tracks that lead up here.”

She sat beside me and studied my face. She shook her head. “You can’t be serious. I can’t leave you here alone as sick and weak as you are − I won’t do it. What if the posse finds you?”

I kissed the palm of her hand. “You said I’m safe up here so don’t worry. My only hope is for you to go back to town and fetch Doc Owen. I think the bleeding has started again.” Her eyes widened and I held a finger to her lips. “With any luck, you’ll run into Mort Cory along the way.” I fought to stay awake. “I’m sure he’s looking for me right now. If you find him tell him where I am and then get Doc Owen. Keep an eye out for the posse and if you see them hide until they pass.”

She buried her head in my shoulder and clung to me sobbing. “No, Jess, I can’t leave you like this. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you while I was gone.”

“Cheryl, it’s the only way. You have to do it for my sake − you’re my only hope. I-I don’t know h-how much longer I-I can hold on.” I fought to stay conscious; I had to be sure she’d do as I asked.

Her eyes grew large as she studied my face. Realization showing in her eyes her shoulders slumped and she finally agreed. “A-alright, I’ll do it.” She squeezed my hand reassuringly.

My eyelids grew heavy and closed of their own accord and I let the darkness that I’d been fending off close in on me. I felt her hand on my forehead and then it was gone.

GUILTY

CHAPTER 15

Mort Cory stepped into the doctor’s office foyer at midnight. The deputy was asleep in a chair tilted back against the wall. It was dark except for a beam of moonlight that cast its light through the partially open door and ran across the floor coming to rest on the form of the sleeping man. His chin rested on his chest and his hat sat low over his face. Mort carefully nudged the officer’s shoulder to wake him and the man’s hand slid limply from his lap and dangled at his side.

Alarmed, Cory touched his hand to the deputy’s chest and found no heartbeat but the body was still warm. He felt ragged a hole in the shirt and there was a sticky wetness around the tear. Touching his fingertips to his tongue he recognized the brassy taste of blood and knew the man had been shot. A feeling of dread gripping the sheriff’s stomach he drew his pistol and stepped cautiously into the little hospital room where his friends Jess Harper and Slim Sherman were supposed to be. Faint moonlight coming in from the front window threw shadows about the still room. He took a lantern from the wall at the door and lit it. When he held it high over his head his stomach knotted with fear as the dim light slowly played over the room and an empty bed with rumpled sheets and blankets. Slim had told him that there was only one bed in the room. Oh, my God, where is Jess? He spun around looking frantically for his hapless friend. There was no sign of a scuffle - the room was in perfect order. The light glinted on metal on the floor at the foot of the bed and holding the lantern closer he recognized a pair of leg shackles. He held up the lantern again and the light fell on the operating table. Stepping around it the dim light revealed a trail of blood that ran from the armchair by the doctor’s desk to the operating table and the soles of a large pair of boots. He lifted the lantern and the light played over the long frame of a blond man lying face down his head covered with blood. In two quick strides, Mort was kneeling beside the man his eyes narrowing with concern when he recognized the wounded man as his friend Slim Sherman. Carefully, he turned the big rancher over and examined him closely. Relief flooded through him when he saw the barely perceptible rise and fall of the injured man’s chest. Holding the lantern close to Slim’s bloody face he saw a long deep furrow on his right temple. The bleeding had stopped but his face was ashen. Looking about frantically he searched for and found a door on the far side of the room that he hoped led to the doctor’s living quarters. Opening it wide he shouted for Doctor Owen.

Still struggling to put on his robe, the doctor appeared in front of Mort in a matter of minutes. Studying Cory’s shock wrenched features he asked, “Good heavens man, what’s happened? Is Jess in trouble?” Without waiting for an answer, he pushed past Mort walking toward the bed that Jess had occupied. The doctor’s face blanched when he saw the empty bed and the discarded shackles. The elderly man looked confused and wrung his hands nervously. “Where’s Jess? He was in no condition to leave under his own power.”

“Doctor, please, Slim needs your help − there’s nothing you can do about Jess.” Cory pleaded as he pulled the elderly doctor toward his stricken friend on the floor.

Doctor Owen grimaced at the bloody sight and grabbing his medical bag he was immediately at Slim’s side. “It looks like he was grazed alongside the head by a bullet. A little closer to the left and he would’ve been killed. Help me put him on the table.” When he had finished dressing Slim’s wound he looked up at Cory. “Your friend Sherman will be all right, Sheriff Cory. He’ll have one heck of a headache and suffer from dizziness for the next few days. I don’t understand why Martha and I didn’t hear the gunshot.”

Cory picked up a discarded pillow off the floor at the foot of operating table. It had powder burns and a black hole on each side of it. “He muffled the shots using this.” He shivered at the thought of how close Slim had come to being killed. “Doc, who ever took Jess and did this to Slim also killed the deputy. I found him in your entry. I think the only reason Slim is alive is because the killer assumed he’d killed him with the shot to the head. It looks like Slim came to later and tried to get help.”

Doctor Owen raked his hands through his thinning gray hair. “I don’t understand, why didn’t he kill Jess too?”

Cory wiped his face with his kerchief. “I ‘m not sure, but I smell a frame up. I think the killer wants the sheriff to believe Jess did this.” Mort took a deep breath. “Sheriff Mason will be hopping mad and out for blood when he finds out Jess is gone and his deputy dead. I need to find him fast. I doubt there’ll be another trial if a sheriff’s posse finds Jess before I do.”

Doctor Owen shook his head and glanced up at the sheriff. “I’m afraid even if you do find Jess and rescue him from his captors it may be too late. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that moving that young man would kill him.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten that. I need time to look for tracks and figure out where Jess was taken.” Cory glanced and Slim and hesitated for a moment. Cory rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Doctor Owen, it seems to me if moving Jess could make his injury worse, maybe you should go with me if I find any tracks.”

“I’d be glad to go with you but I have a bad hip and can’t ride a horse so I’m afraid I’d only slow you up. Hopefully they haven’t taken him far and it won’t take long for you to come back for me once you’ve found him.”

Cory removed his hat and wiped the inside of the brim with his kerchief. “It would help if you waited a couple of hours to report this incident to Sheriff Mason.”

“I can do that. Hopefully it’ll give you enough time before a posse is formed. I doubt Mason will do anything until daylight.”

Before Cory began his search he lifted the deputy out of the chair and laid him on the floor and used one of the blankets from the bed to cover the dead man. Cory stepped into the alley behind the doctor’s office and raised the lantern looking at the ground for sign. His searching eyes found large boot prints and those of a smaller lady’s shoe. There were hoof prints and one of the horses wore a distinctive shoe with a corrective bar that would be easy to follow. Cory stepped onto the hard packed dirt of moonlit Walnut Street and paused to take a deep breath. The tracks appeared to come from the direction of the Reynolds place. He decided to check on the Reynolds girl if nothing more than to make sure she was safe and to apprise her of Jess’ disappearance. Cory found the place dark when he arrived at the Reynolds’ residence. He knocked loudly on the front door and on the third knock the door swung open. He stepped cautiously inside, a feeling of foreboding creeping up the back of his neck. The memory of finding the saloon girl dead in her home came rushing to his mind. He called out to the girl several times but there was no answer. Lighting a lamp he found on the entry wall he quickly searched the house and grounds finding no sign of the young woman. He was grateful to see that there was no sign of a struggle. Entering the barn he saw that it had four stalls and two of them contained saddle mounts. The next two stalls were empty but looked like they had been recently occupied. Holding up the lamp, he surveyed the interior and noticed two vacant pegs where wagon tracings would have hung. He walked to the back of the barn and found the fresh tracks of the wide wheels of a wagon and two horses. Beside one wheel track was the small print of a woman’s shoe that matched the one he had seen in the alley. There was also a matching corrective shoe print in the dust behind the barn. He found it hard to believe that Cheryl Reynolds was a party to Jess’ disappearance but the evidence couldn’t be denied. Cory filled a canteen with water and saddled one of the Reynolds’ mounts. He gave no thought to food. He knew he had to find Jess Harper as soon as possible.

Returning to the alley behind the doctor’s office Mort Cory looked for a sign to indicate the direction Jess’ abductors had gone. He decided not to tell Doctor Owen of Cheryl Reynolds apparent involvement in Jess’ disappearance. Illuminated by the full moon he spotted the telltale hoof print of the horse he had followed from Cheryl’s home and saw that it was heading south. Walking his horse slowly down the street he caught an occasional glimpse of the fresh print of the distinctive and he became certain that Jess’ abductors were headed south on the road to Eldorado City and it appeared the driver wasn’t at all concerned about being discovered. He seemed to be deliberately leaving a trail that even a city slicker could follow. A mile out of town he came to a fork in the road and the distinctive hoof print was easily spotted taking the right fork onto an old poorly maintained road that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. It meandered south edging the Flatiron Mountains that lay just west of Boulder. Cory followed the old road for two hours until the wagon tracks left the main road and turned west onto an old two rut road that led to the mouth of Coal Creek Canyon. Cory frowned in concern as he followed the increasingly rough trail.

New tumbleweed growth was the only vegetation dotting the landscape. Their shadowy mounds swayed in the predawn breeze as Cory followed the old road into Coal Creek Canyon. A sudden gust of wind uprooted a small tumbleweed and his horse shied nervously as it rolled past them. The night had grown cold and a shivering Mort Cory pulled the lapels of his thin corduroy jacket up around his neck, holding it close under his chin. As time passed and the terrain became rougher the thought of Jess riding in that jolting wagon prompted him to urge his horse to go faster. He no longer needed to look for the trail as the narrowing sides of the canyon led the way and the rutted road seemed to follow the canyon to the foothills at the southwest side of Boulder Mountain.

While he rode Cory wondered how many hours had passed since Jess had been taken away. He no longer worried about the posse’s impending arrival. He could only think of getting to Jess and rescuing him from his captors. He was positive now that Cheryl Reynolds was a party to his friend’s abduction. The sound of approaching hooves broke into his thoughts. He reined in his horse and rode behind a large boulder. Dismounting he pinched his horse’s nose to keep him from nickering and waited to see who was approaching at such a reckless pace with only the light of the moon to see by. Watching closely as the racing horse neared, the bright moonlight played across the stranger’s face and Cory recognized Rafe Connors. Waiting until the man was out of sight he took off in the direction that Connors had come from. Dread raised the hackles on his neck and fear for his friend drove Mort Cory to urge his own horse into a gallop. He could only assume that Connors had abducted Jess, killed the deputy and badly wounded Slim Sherman. He held out little hope of finding his friend alive if Jess had been at the mercy of the brutish Connors for the last few hours.

An hour later the Laramie sheriff topped a rise and slowed his horse to a walk. Below him, about a quarter mile away in a grove of aspen and tall pine trees, sat a large rock and timber cabin. It was nestled at the base of a three hundred foot high outcropping of flatiron rock, the early light of dawn reflecting off its windows. A pole barn and corral were situated in an open area behind it. A buckboard was out front but the horses were gone. When he was within fifty yards of the lodge Cory dismounted and looped the reins over a low hanging branch. He approached the cabin warily, afraid of what he would find.

.45 in hand he stepped up on the porch and slowly pushed the door open. The place was deserted. Two plates were on the table, one with some beans left on it were the only signs that the place had been recently occupied. The coffee pot on the stove was still warm. Looking for clues to Jess’ whereabouts Cory checked the adjoining rooms and found no trace of anyone having been there in some time. As badly injured and weak as Jess was, riding a horse would’ve been impossible for him. Where the hell could he and his abductors have gone?

GUILTY

CHAPTER 16.

Cheryl stood up and looked down at Jess. She reached out and brushed back the errant lock of hair that persisted in falling across his brow. Heat radiated from his forehead and she rested her hand there for a moment, she was alarmed at how hot he was to the touch. She realized she couldn’t leave him. She took a cloth from the cupboard and soaked it in water from the stream, bathing Jess’ face, chest and arms with it. He became restless and began to mutter incoherently. He rolled his head while she worked on him but he didn’t open his eyes. Her efforts seemed futile and then she remembered a plant with a purple flower called cinquefoil that grew along the ledge near the cabin. She had heard that it was good for treating fever. She put water on to boil and gathered some of the leaves. Crumbling them into the water she made a sort of tea and got Jess to drink some of it. Then she bathed his face and torso again with wet cloths. From time to time she would give Jess more of the tea and after about an hour Jess’ fever finally broke and he settled into a restful sleep. She filled the canteen and placed it within easy reach. She was torn between the desire to stay with Jess and the need to get him help. But she knew that she had no choice. Leaving the cabin she climbed on one of the horses and led the other down the rocky way back to the hunting lodge.

She had almost reached the cabin when she saw a saddled horse tied a short distance from the cabin. It couldn’t be seen from the cabin but was in plain sight from her vantage point. Her heart skipped a beat and she slowed her horse to a stop. A man wearing a badge stepped out onto the porch and looked in her direction. She cursed herself for being so noisy on her approach. She knew she had been spotted and was about to take flight when she recognized him. She had seen him only once and it was in the jail. She remembered the concern on his face while he watched as Doc Owen was examining Jess. He was Sheriff Mort Cory, Jess’ friend. Thank God, he’s here. Now I won’t have to leave Jess by himself.

Cheryl kicked her mount into a gallop and crossed the distance to the lodge in a matter of minutes. “Oh, thank God you’re here. You must be Sheriff Cory. I’m Cheryl Reynolds. I saw you in the Boulder jail with Jess. He needs your help badly. You’ve got to come with me right now.”

“Hold on young lady, there’s a dead deputy and an injured man back in Boulder and you appear to be mixed up in the middle of it. Do you realize the jeopardy you’ve put Jess’ life by hauling him off in a wagon across this terrain?

“Sheriff Cory, I will explain everything if you’ll just follow me. Jess is safely hidden but he’s very sick. I was just on my way to get Doctor Owen. He insisted that I leave him.” She turned her horse and then looked back at Cory. “Will Slim be all right? I thought sure he was dead.”

“He’ll be suffering from a bad headache for a while but that’s all. You have a lot of explaining to do young lady.”

She nodded and urged her horse forward. Mort marveled at how well hidden the entrance to the trail was as he followed her. A few minutes later they entered the cabin together. Jess was still asleep and Cheryl rushed to his bedside kneeling on the dirt floor. In the short time she’d been gone he had knocked the cloth off his face and the blanket had slid down to his waist. He was feverish again and his face was flushed and covered with beads of sweat. She gave him more of the tea then dampened the cloth and began bathing his face and torso. She got him to drink some of the water.

Mort could see that he need not have suspected the young woman of foul play as he watched her minister to his friend with such loving care. Even though he was shocked at how bad Jess looked he realized that she had been smart to move him up here to hide him from the impending arrival of the Boulder posse.

Cheryl stood up and turned to Mort. “You can see that Jess is safe and well hidden. You can also see that he needs a doctor and as soon as possible. Will you please go for help, now?”

“Of course, but before I go, I need to know if Rafe Connors is responsible for kidnapping Jess and is so what’s your part in it?”

Cheryl explained Rafe’s plan. “I had no choice and I thought if I went along with Rafe I could help Jess,” she explained. Then she told him of the plan that she and Jess worked out to fool the posse into believing they had escaped on horseback.

“Now that you’re here I can take care of Jess while you get the doctor. I’m positive they won’t be able to find us especially if you take the wagon and the horses with you. Use the new road that my father recently had built in the cut that leads northeast of here from Coal Creek Canyon to Eldorado Canyon. It’ll cut your time to and from Boulder in half. It’s due west of the cabin and follows the base of this mountain. It leads to an old mining road that runs east toward Eldorado and the old road to Boulder.”

“I’ll be going then. I hope I can get the doctor here in time. He really looks bad.”

With a worried glance in Jess’ direction Mort ducked out the door rode back to the lodge. He took care to erase all signs of their passing then hitched the horses to the wagon and headed toward Eldorado Canyon at a fast gallop with his mount trailing behind.

Cheryl watched Sheriff Cory’s receding back as he left the room. Returning Jess’ bedside she gave him more tea and continued bathing him with cool water. This time the tea seemed to work quickly, as his fever lessened and a while later he began to stir. His eyes fluttered open for a second but there was no recognition in those deep blue eyes and they closed again. She offered him water hoping to bring him around. “Jess, darling, open your eyes, please wake up.” He sputtered and coughed as the water ran into his mouth but he swallowed most of it and he opened his eyes again. This time his eyes remained open and they focused on her. “Are you with me?” she asked.

GUILTY

CHAPTER 17

I was drowning, choking on the water running down my throat . . . gagging I swallowed a mouthful and forced my eyes open. Cheryl’s face outlined by golden curls swam into focus. I looked around the empty room. “Didn’t you get the doc?’ I could’ve sworn I heard a man’s voice– or was I dreaming?”

She shook her head. “No, he isn’t here but you weren’t dreaming, thank God, your friend Sheriff Cory showed up. He’s gone to Boulder for Doctor Owen.” She filled me in on everything that had happened since I’d passed out. “Oh Jess, I’ve been so worried; you were running a high fever; I was afraid I’d lose you.” She sat on the bed beside me and laid a gentle hand on my forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

I ignored her question. “How long’ve I been out and how long ago did Mort leave?”

“I’m not sure, it seemed like you were never going to wake up. Mort left about half an hour ago.” She adjusted the blankets covering me. “I’m really worried about you.”

I took her hand in mine. “I’ll be fine; I’m feeling a lot better.” I lied - my stomach felt like it’d been kicked by a mule. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“And I promise to never leave you.” Tears brimmed in her eyes as she held my face in her hands and kissed me long and passionately. She sat up quickly before I could react.

Looking at her closely I couldn’t help but notice her tear filled eyes were red-rimmed from exhaustion. “When was the last time you had any sleep?”

She shook her head slowly. “It doesn’t matter; I can’t let myself think about sleep – I’m too worried about you. I’ll be okay…”

I patted the space on the bed beside me “I’ll be fine. Look, there’s enough room for the two of us. You should rest for while. I’ll wake you if I need you.”

She blushed. “Oh no, I couldn’t, it wouldn’t be proper. What would people think?”

“Who’s gonna tell and why should you care? After what we’ve been through you could use the rest and propriety be damned. I’m certainly in no shape to take advantage of you.” I gave her a lopsided grin and patted the covers beside me again.

Cheryl looked longingly at the space at my side. I held out my arm inviting her to lie beside me. She snuggled up to me like a child, her head on my shoulder. I wrapped an arm around her holding her close. She reached across my chest fumbling for my hand then clung to it as if she would never let it go. Within seconds, she was sound asleep. I had planned to keep a watchful eye while she slept but I wasn’t up to the task.

****

Mort Cory couldn’t get the vision of Jess’ fever flushed face out of his mind as he rode back toward Boulder. He had reached the old road to Boulder in half an hour and turned the horses south until he came upon the tracks of the original course that Connors had taken earlier. He drove them past the old cutoff to the Reynolds cabin for several minutes then whipping them hard he leaped into the saddle of his horse and watched as they continued to race southward. He stopped and erased any trace of his tracks that would associate him with the wagon then turned toward Boulder. He noticed a cloud of dust approaching from the north; from the size of it, it had to be the posse. There was no place to hide and no way to go around them. Cory decided to wait and try to reason with them. He raised a hand and sat his horse patiently waiting for the posse to arrive. As the group approached, he recognized Rafe Connors in the lead and before he could react, the man aimed his rifle at him. He felt a blow to his chest then heard the crack of a shot. Knocked from the saddle - the last thing he knew was his head hitting the ground.

****

Sheriff Mason reached out and snatched Rafe Connors’ rifle from his hands as he signaled for the posse to stop. “What the hell are you doing? Didn’t you see he had his hand raised?” He dismounted and ran to where Mort Cory lay. “Connors, you’d better pray this man ain’t dead or you’ll hang right alongside Harper when we catch him.”

“But Sheriff, I thought he was Harper. I could’ve sworn I saw the gleam of a gun in his hand,” protested the ex-deputy.

“The gleam you saw was the sun’s reflection off his badge.” Sheriff Mason turned Mort Cory over pointing to the badge on his vest. His eyes softened with relief when he saw the misshapen star on the lawman’s chest and the lack of blood on the slowly moving chest. He removed the star and called out. “Bring me some water - he’s alive.” He was given a canteen and Mason tended to the injured lawman.

Sheriff Cory stirred grabbed his chest and groaned as he opened his eyes. He sat up unsteadily, rubbing his chest. “What the…”

“Take it easy Cory, you’re gonna be all right.” Mason showed him the mangled badge. “You’re one lucky man − looks like this saved your life.” He looked at Cory angrily. “I was hoping I’d find you. Doctor Owen told me you had gone looking for Harper and about your theory that he’d been kidnapped.” He helped Cory to his feet. “Why didn’t you come to me when you found my deputy dead?”

The injured man swayed grabbing at his head and then got his balance. “I was afraid you’d blame Jess Harper for your deputy’s death and I doubted you’d believe he’d been kidnapped.”

Sheriff Mason glowered at him. “You’re right; I don’t believe Harper was kidnapped. I think he got Sherman to unlock his shackles killed my deputy and shot Sherman. Around 3 o’clock this morning Doctor Owen told me that you had gone looking for him. It took me until almost dawn to get a posse together. When he heard what had happened Rafe Connors went to Cheryl Reynolds’ house to check on her and found her missing. He said it looked like there had been a scuffle and there were broken lamps and tables knocked over and he found fresh wagon tracks leading from her house. By the time he found me I had put together a full posse. We’ve been following the tracks since it was light enough to see.”

Cory knocked the dust off his clothes as he thought of a way to get the sheriff to listen to reason. Now he understood why Rafe Connors was so sure the posse would be out for Jess’ blood. A deputy handed him his hat. The Laramie sheriff realized he wasn’t going to change Mason’s mind. The man was stubborn as a mule and doubted he would listen to even Cheryl Reynolds.

Before Mort could say another word Sheriff Mason had slapped a set of manacles on his wrists. “Sheriff Cory, you’re under arrest for obstructing justice. You’re going to hang right along with Harper when we find him.” He shoved Mort in the direction of his horse and gruffly spoke to the man who had brought the canteen. “Get him on his horse and if he tries to escape, shoot him.”

Mort called out over his shoulder as the deputy led him to his horse. “You have to listen to me, Mason; you’re making a big mistake…”

A blow to his jaw abruptly cut off Cory’s last word as one of the posse members clubbed him with the butt of a rifle. Mort looked up through tears of pain and recognized Rafe Connors.

His attacker sneered down at him brandishing his rifle butt threateningly. “Shut up, Cory. We’re not interested in anything you have to say. Your friend Harper is going to pay. Saunders was a good friend of mine and Cheryl Reynolds is my cousin.”

Cory’s jaw and head reeled with pain and he was barely able to stay on his feet. No one was willing to listen to reason; he had failed Jess and he feared for the young cowboy’s life more than ever.

GUILTY

CHAPTER 18

Nathan Green sat astride his horse at the back of the posse and observed what had happened to the sheriff from Laramie. He had readily joined the posse to hunt for Harper because he had feared for Cheryl’s life. He loved Cheryl and would do whatever it took to see her back to safety but wasn’t sure that it was Jess Harper that she needed protection from. He had noticed how badly injured Harper was when he was carried to Doctor Owen’s office and he doubted the ex-gunfighter was physically able to overcome Sherman and the deputy - much less kidnap Cheryl. He suspected that Rafe Connors was involved in the disappearance of Harper and Cheryl and the death of his employer. With a pang of guilt he regretted not revealing at Harper’s trial that he had overheard Connors agree to help Mr. Reynolds run the young man out of town. At the time he was sure Jess Harper was guilty and had kept quiet because he had no proof.

When the posse continued past the cutoff to the road that led to Coal Creek Canyon Rafe shouted out over the clatter of the horses’ hooves. “Wait, you’re going the wrong way. I think they went up that old canyon road.” He said pointing to the west.

“Hold up, everyone,” shouted the sheriff as he raised his hand in a signal to stop. “What are you talking about, Connors? The tracks clearly lead south.”

Rafe approached the sheriff. “I think they’re headed for a cabin ‘bout five miles from here. It belongs to the Reynolds family. There’s no place around here they could go but there.” He insisted. When Sheriff Mason just looked blankly at him he added. “Harper’s injured so I figured he wouldn’t get very far and would need to hole up for a while. But, I guess I was wrong.”

Mason pointed to the south out across the flatlands. “The tracks lead that way and that’s where we’re going. I’m not wasting time on wild goose chases.”

Mort Cory had been listening intently, his heart in his throat, hoping that his ruse with the wagon would hold against Rafe’s protests. He breathed a sigh of relief when the sheriff refused to listen to Connors and the burly man smartly let the subject drop.

His concentration was broken when he felt the jolt of a horse bumping into his knee as one of the posse men rode too close. He looked over at the rider and kneed his horse away from the careless horseman, but the rider who was about Jess’ age persisted and continued to use his horse to push Cory’s mount over until they were just outside the group. Intent on the argument between Mason and Connors Mort’s guard hadn’t noticed. Cory wondered what the young man was up to but kept silent when he motioned him to be quiet and pulled to a halt.

The young man cupped his hand to his mouth and shouted, “Sheriff Mason, hold up, this hunt is taking much longer than I thought; I’m expecting some shipments to arrive today and I have to get back to town to open the store.”

“Alright, Nathan, thanks for volunteering, I know Miss Reynolds will appreciate your effort.”

Nathan touched the brim of his hat and then as if an afterthought added, “If you’d like, I can take your prisoner back to town with me and lock him up.”

Cory watched as the man called Nathan seemed to hold his breath while waiting for Mason’s answer. He was hopeful that he had found an ally.

Approaching Green and Cory Mason reached into his coat pocket and tossed some keys to Green. “These are the keys to his cuffs and the jail cells. You watch him close while you’re on your way back to town.”

Nathan looked at Cory pulled his pistol and answered, “Yes sir, you can rely on me.”

Wheeling his horse about Sheriff Mason led the posse south.

The two men watched the group ride away. “Okay young man, would you mind telling me what you have in mind? I don’t think it’s a trip back to town. Are you the Reynolds’ bookkeeper?

Unlocking Cory’s cuffs Green looked at him questioningly. “Yes sir. How did you know that? I don’t believe we’ve met?”

“I hate to admit it, but until early this morning you were our prime suspect as the murderer of Gabe Reynolds and a saloon girl.”

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m only interested in finding Miss Reynolds. I want you to know that I don’t believe Harper killed the deputy and kidnapped Cheryl. I saw how badly injured he is. When Rafe wanted to go to the Reynolds cabin I figured he knew something and decided to help you. Did you find Miss Reynolds and Harper?”

Mort rubbed his sore wrists and wiped a trickle of blood off his chin with a kerchief. He worked his sore jaw gingerly and told Green about Rafe Connors’ plan to frame Jess and why. “Cheryl and Jess are hiding in an old miner’s cabin near her father’s hunting lodge. He needs a doctor badly. Can I count on you to bring Doctor Owen there?”

Green nodded. “I’ll be glad to get the doctor. I’m sorry to hear about Jess Harper.

Rubbing the place on his chest where the bullet had hit him Cory said. “Tell Doctor Owen to come prepared for the worst.” He gazed into the young bookkeeper’s eyes for a sign that he could be trusted. The young man returned his gaze without blinking. The sheriff told Green about the hidden miner’s cabin and the shortcut from Boulder. “When you arrive, fire one shot wait then fire two. I’ll come down and show you the way up.”

Nathan turned his horse north. “You can count on me.”

“Wait up; I’ll need your weapon. They took mine away from me.”

Green handed over his pistol and rode off and Cory turned his horse westward. The turn of events had given him a semblance of hope, but he realized that time was against them. It had been almost an hour since he had left Jess and Cheryl. Throwing caution to the wind, Mort Cory urged his mount into a ground eating gallop over the rocky terrain.

*******

CHAPTER 19

Mort reached the rise above the cabin within a half-hour after leaving Nathan. When he was about 100 yards away, he slowed his horse to a walk carefully giving the cabin a wide berth and followed the trail to the cabin. He brushed away his tracks before ascending the trail. Leaving the bay in the corral he entered the cabin. When his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room he smiled when he saw Cheryl on the bed snuggled up to Jess. Mort leaned over peering closely at Jess’ face and was relieved to see that he no longer showed any sign of fever.

Not wishing to disturb the sleeping pair, he stepped out and unsaddled his horse. From a secluded vantage point he could see for miles and checked the approach to the cabin for dust and saw none. Satisfied he hadn’t been followed returned to the cabin.

Cheryl was sitting in a chair beside Jess when Cory returned. She jumped when Mort entered, then smiled and held a finger to her lips, pointing to Jess who was still sleeping soundly. She got up and motioned for Mort to sit at the table with her.

She spoke in a hushed tone. “I didn’t expect you to return so soon.” She looked past Mort. “Where’s Doc Owen, didn’t he come with you?”

Mort shook his head. He recounted what happened with the posse. “Let’s hope they won’t be long getting here.” He glanced at Jess’ sleeping form. “How’s he doing? He looks a lot better than he did when I left.”

She smiled wanly. “His fever is gone and he’s resting peacefully. I don’t think he’d survive another bout.” She covered her eyes with her hands and began to sob quietly. She looked up at Mort. “I’m afraid for him, Sheriff Cory. I’m afraid he’s going to die and there’s nothing not even Doc Owen can do to prevent it.”

Mort pulled up a chair and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Cheryl honey, you said yourself he’s doing better. Jess is strong and a fighter. Doctor Owen will be here soon so don’t give up on him yet.”

****

Unable to convince Sheriff Mason to go to the Reynolds’ cabin Rafe Connors slowed his horse and began to drop behind the posse as they continued to follow the wagon tracks. Things were not going as he’d planned and the men were getting tired. A tired posse would soon lose its enthusiasm for the chase and he was sure that Harper wasn’t in that wagon. He decided to go back to the cabin to see what was going on. He stopped his horse and dismounted pretending to clean its hoof. When the last member of the posse had passed and was a safe distance away he mounted and spurred the sorrel into a gallop toward the cabin. As a deputized member of the posse, he didn’t see why he couldn’t go back to the cabin, kill Harper and claim the man drew down on him. Cheryl would have to be disposed of and he could blame Harper for that too. Cousin or no cousin, she was now a liability he couldn’t afford.

He approached the cabin slowly, dismounted and tied the sorrel to some scrub brush about fifty yards away. He palmed his pistol and crept up to the porch. Peering through the window he saw that the room was empty and furious and after a careful search of the place and grounds he realized that Harper and his cousin were gone. He found nothing to indicate where they had gone. The only tracks were those of the wagon heading east trailing a riderless horse behind it. He was sure they were left by that meddling Sheriff Cory.

Furious, Connors kicked at a rock and stomped back to his horse. Mounting he surveyed the area and studied the mountainside. He had hunted here with his uncle many times when he was a youngster and had never seen any sign of shelter that would harbor Harper and his cousin. Even with Cory’s help they couldn’t have gone far considering the shape Harper was in. He figured it’d be only a matter of time before he found them. Mounting the sorrel he reined it toward the base of the mountain and began looking for sign of their passing. He sneered when he spotted the slightest hint of a ledge behind the outcropping of rock that jutted out a few hundred feet above the cabin. His eyes following the cut in the side of the mountain he caught a brief glimpse of Sheriff Cory as he walked out onto the ledge and then disappeared. He searched for sign of a trail that would lead him to the edge and after several minutes of scouring the ground and the thick underbrush an overturned rock caught his eye and looking further there was a scuffed area on the hard packed dirt. Following the direction of the faint tracks came upon the traces of an old trail the dirt packed down by years of use. Part of it was carved out of the mountain. When he reached the top and stepped onto the ledge, the shelter that he expected to find was not there; only brush and boulders met his searching eyes. He was certain he saw Cory disappear at the very spot he was looking at. He drew his iron and cautiously walked closer and looked for any sign of an opening. A vicious leer spread across his face when he spotted a boot print and looking closer he saw the opening. Cocking his pistol he hugged the inside of the opening and followed the wall into a large cave and halted when he saw a cabin built into the back of cave. Surprisingly light on his feet for a man of his bulk he crept cautiously to the door.

****

I woke with a start but kept my eyes shut and didn’t move a muscle. I felt groggy and disoriented but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. I forced myself to keep my breathing steady when I realized what had awakened me… Cheryl and Mort were speaking to someone else in the room, Mort was angry, and Cheryl’s voice was shrill with fear. Then I heard the voice of my nemesis Rafe Connors and I felt a chill. How did he find us? I looked through hooded lids and saw Rafe standing in the doorway motioning with his pistol barrel in the direction of the back wall.

“Cheryl, you go stand against that wall with Sheriff Cory there while I check on our friend Harper. I think it’s time for him to wake up, don’t you?”

My heart was pounding in my chest and I was afraid he’d notice it for sure. How did Connors find us and overcome Mort? A dozen more questions ran through my head. Then I felt something cold and hard jab me in the shoulder. I willed myself to hold still.

“You awake, Harper?” He jabbed me again harder and I tried to keep my face and body as limp as I could.

“What?” I rubbed my eyes and looked blearily at him. “You, how’d you get here?” My voice was hoarse and I swallowed hard trying to bring some moisture to my throat.

“Don’t matter, Harper, I’m here and yore time’s up.” He looked over at Mort and Cheryl He stepped away from me and gestured for them to move next to me. “Help him to his feet. It wouldn’t look right if I killed him lying in bed.”

“He’s too weak to stand up; it will be murder no matter how you make it look.” Mort protested.

Cheryl grabbed Cory’s arm. “Please Rafe, don’t do this you don’t have to kill him.”

“Haven’t you two figured it out yet? You all have to die and Harper will get the blame.”

They helped me sit up and my feet dropped to the floor. The room began to spin and I almost fell back but Mort caught me and kept a steadying hand on my shoulder until I nodded that I’d be all right. I gripped the edge of my bed and ran a sleeve across my eyes.

My mouth was so dry I could barely manage a hoarse whisper. “Give me a minute will you?”

“Can’t you see he won’t last a second on his feet?” Mort pleaded desperately.

Connors eyed my face then shrugged his shoulders in resignation. Keeping his eye on the three of us he pointed his pistol at Mort and Cheryl. “Okay, you win. You two, move away from him and stand up against that curtain.” He indicated the wall to my left.

Mort spoke as he and Cheryl moved in front of the curtain, “You seem to have it all figured out, Connors, mind letting us know how you think you can get away with killing the three of us?

Connors sneered evily but his gun never wavered as it pointed at a spot above my belt buckle. “Oh, I’ll have no trouble doing that. I already have the sheriff convinced that Harper killed his nephew and I’ll testify that I saw him shoot the two of you but I was too far away to stop him in time.”

“You’ll never get away with it.”

“Sure, I will, my plan’s foolproof.” He was so intent on making his point that he forgot about me.

I saw Cheryl’s eyes widen in horror and fear when she saw me struggling to stand up. She quickly averted her eyes and moved closer to Cory drawing Connors attention to her.

“Rafe, why are you doing this?” She asked. “What could you possibly gain by killing us?”

Good girl, Cheryl, keep him distracted. I need time to gather enough strength to wrestle that gun away from him. Mort glanced at me and then he turned his eyes back to look at Rafe.

Rafe pulled a chair to him and turned the back facing him. He put his right foot up on its seat and rested his gun hand on his knee pointing the pistol at the two. “I guess it won’t hurt to tell you why since you won’t live to tell anyone, cousin dear…

“It all started that night in the alley when your father was killed. Your father had it all figured out. I got Doctor Owen to give me some Laudanum for a toothache. Then I paid the saloon girl to pour an extra large dose of it into Harper’s drink. It was supposed to make him helpless. I never expected him to be able to draw on us.”

“It almost killed him; good thing he has a strong constitution or you and Reynolds would be going to jail,” interjected Mort.

Connors looked at Mort Cory with disdain. “Your father blew it when he didn’t take Harper’s gun away from. He also underestimated Harper’s survival instincts. The man should have been out cold by the time your father got him to the alley.” He spat tobacco juice at the corner of the room and then wiped his sleeve across his mouth. “Even drugged like he was; Harper was fast. He didn’t see me and I hit him in the stomach with my club and pulled the gun out of his hand. I didn’t realize the trigger was cocked until it went off in my hand killing your father instantly.”

Cheryl’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Why didn’t you say it was an accident? How could you let an innocent man take the blame?”

“It was his fault your father was killed and I wanted to see him pay. It was my good fortune that Harper didn’t remember anything after he woke up or during his trial. It was his bad luck when he finally did.”

I managed to push myself to my feet by hanging onto the head of the bed. I swayed and fought the dizziness that tried to overwhelm me and won. Then I nodded at Mort as I gathered enough strength to lunge at Connors.

“You killed the saloon girl, didn’t you?” Mort asked, continuing his effort to keep Connors attention focused on him and Cheryl.

“Yeah, she asked me to come out to her place. I went to see her and she tried to blackmail me. When I couldn’t reason with her, I killed her.”

I was having difficulty staying upright. Fighting against the weakness and dizziness I hung on to the end of the bed with both hands. I looked up at Mort and shook my head indicating that I needed more time.

Mort put a protective arm around Cheryl who looked visibly shaken. “You won’t get away with it, Connors. Nathan Green will be back here with Doctor Owen any minute. The doctor will tell everyone that Jess was in no shape to kill anyone. Your best bet is to take off now. ”

“Nice try, Cory. But I’m not going anywhere until I’m finished here.” He snarled.

I lunged at Connors with all the strength I could muster. My eyes focused on the gun in his hand. Somehow, I had to get it away from him. I managed to grab his hand as I collided with him but he easily fended me off with a hard shove. I struggled to stay on my feet as I careened backwards. I spun around reaching for the stove and was brought up short when I fell against it; the rim catching me full in the stomach. I screamed in agony and used my last remaining strength to turn back to face my tormentor as I collapsed to the floor and wrapped my arms around my midriff doubling over in pain.

The moment that I lunged at Connors, Mort also made his try. I watched through a haze of pain as Connors pistol whipped Mort on the head and Mort collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Connors turned to me and pointed his pistol at my head. “Harper, I’ve had enough of you. I’m putting you out of your misery first.” He snarled.

I looked up at him in defiance. “K-kill me if you like, l-leave Cheryl alone. S-she won’t tell any-one. T-Think a- about it... It w-would be y-your word against hers.” I gasped in desperation.

I had to keep his attention on me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cheryl inching toward me. A gun lay on the floor under the table next to the stove. It must have fallen out of Connors’ belt during the struggle. She bent down and grabbed the barrel. He was so intent on killing me he didn’t notice her.

His mouth twisted into a sinister smile his black eyes smoldering with hate. He pointed the pistol at my head and slowly pulled back the hammer seeming to relish every minute of my agony. “It’s going to give me great pleasure to kill you. Say your prayers, Harper you’re about to meet your maker.”

Many a killer has met his demise because he had to tell you what he was going to do first…

Cheryl stepped between Connors and me and screamed “No!”

I heard the pistol fire. The impact of the bullet spun her around. As she collapsed across my legs, she placed the gun butt in my outstretched hand. Wrapping my hand around the grip I fanned the hammer back twice. Both bullets drilled through Connors’ black heart. I dropped the pistol and tried to pull Cheryl into my arms but had used the last ounce of my strength to kill the man. I looked at her and saw that she was unconscious and blood was oozing from a wound in her chest. It looked like it was close to her heart and I tried to stem the flow with my hand. I could barely see a faint flutter of a pulse in her ivory throat and then it disappeared.

Fear stabbed my heart I leaned over her and wrapped my arms around her; willing her to live. “Hang on Cheryl, please don’t die. There’s so much I want to tell you and so much living we have to do together.” Tears began to flow and I made no effort to stop them. When had she come to mean so much to me?

I felt a big hand gently squeeze my shoulder and I looked up to see Mort’s worried face looking down at me. “She’s… dead, Mort, she’s dead.” I sobbed.

“I’m so sorry Jess. Here, let me have her. I’ll put her on the bed.” Reluctantly, I let him lift her from my arms.

The need to stay conscious for her sake released its hold on me and I let the blackness engulf me.

****

Mort’s heart leaped into his throat when he saw Jess lose consciousness. He checked to his pulse and satisfied that he was still alive; he heaved a sigh of relief. He picked Cheryl up and placed her on the bed. She moaned and he realized that she was still alive. Examining her he saw the bullet had glanced off a broach on her shirt and tore through her shoulder. Wadding some cloths into a pad he shoved them under her blouse. Then he checked to see if any of the blood on Jess’ shirt belonged to him and was relieved to see there wasn’t. He folded a small blanket and placed it under his head. Covering his friend with blankets he knew that all he could do for him was to keep him warm and comfortable until the doctor arrived. Keeping a watchful eye on Jess for signs of consciousness, Mort sat beside Cheryl and applied pressure to her wound until the bleeding stopped.

He returned to where Jess lay and sat on the floor beside him. Jess’ face was deathly white, his breathing was shallow and his skin felt alarmingly clammy. Mort pulled back the blankets and opened Jess’ shirt. He was horrified when he saw that a new large bruise had begun to form on his stomach. He knew that Jess’ life’s blood was seeping into his abdomen and there was nothing he could do to stem the flow. “Hang on just a little while longer, Jess. Help is on the way.”

GUILTY

CHAPTER 20

When Nathan arrived in Boulder and sought out Doctor Owen, he found a recuperating Slim Sherman sitting in a chair in the doctor’s office. The big man had a white swath of bandage wrapped around his head that showed a spot of blood that had seeped through. When Slim stood to greet Nathan he swayed with dizziness and as it passed he stood rock solid before the smaller man, suspicion clouding his usually clear blue eyes. Undaunted, Nathan told them what had happened his eyes begging them to believe him when both Doc and Slim looked skeptically at him as he told his story. He was, after all, their chief suspect in the recent killings and attack on Slim. When Nathan explained everything that had happened and that Jess was in a bad way, Slim finally believed him and asked the doctor what he could do to help ready for the trip to the cabin. Nathan volunteered to get a wagon and food.

Doctor Owen tried to discourage Slim from going with them citing his head injury, but Slim doggedly refused. Realizing there was no arguing with the big man the doctor gave him a list of supplies they would need and helped him gather the items.

Nathan went to the bank and borrowed a large covered carriage for the trip from Horace Sutherland the bank owner. The banker often boasted of it having the smoothest ride in Boulder and it had large covered space in back for carrying supplies - large enough for a man to lie down in. Within half an hour they were packed and ready to leave. Slim climbed into the carriage and took up the reins. Doctor Owen sat beside him. Nathan rode up on a big buckskin leading the pack horse loaded with supplies and they left town at a fast clip.

The three men arrived at the Reynolds’ cabin in record time. Nathan Greene shouted and fired his pistol to announce their arrival.

Mort was on the floor beside Jess when he heard shouts and shots. Mounting the bay he rode down to the waiting men. Mort was elated to see Slim on his feet. He wasted little time explaining what had happened. They unhitched the carriage horses and saddled them. Stepping into the saddle Slim grabbed the lead line of the packhorse and followed behind Doc Owen and Cory. Nathan stayed behind to watch for the posse.

Even though Cory had grimly described what had happened as they climbed to the cabin Slim and Doctor Owen were not prepared for the sight they encountered when they entered the room. Blood soaked the dirt floor. Mort had moved Connors body outside before they had arrived. Seeing the blood on Cheryl’s blouse the doctor rushed to her side. He touched a fingertip to her throat and smiled when he felt a strong pulse.

Ignoring a splitting headache and slight dizziness, Slim pushed past Mort and lowered himself to the floor beside Jess.

“Doc, get over here, I can barely feel a heartbeat.” Slim’s voice cracked with emotion. “He looks like he won’t last much longer.” He was beside himself with helplessness; it was as though he could see Jess’ life slipping away before his eyes. He stood up to make way for the doctor.

Mort pulled the doctor toward Jess. “I can’t wake him up. He’s been this way for about two hours. I hope you’re not too late.”

Doctor Owen knelt beside the injured cowboy. After a brief examination he removed his glasses and pinched his nose between his fingers and exhaled raggedly. “There’s no time to waste, I must to operate immediately.”

“What do you need us to do?” Slim asked.

He rattled off a list of things he needed from the supplies on the pack horse. The table was scrubbed and Slim hung lanterns over it. The surgical instruments were bathed in alcohol and laid on a clean white towel. The doctor surveyed the area nodding his approval. Mort was asked to administer the anesthetic. Slim had slumped into the chair too spent to move.

The operation took over three hours. When it was over Doctor Owen looked up and ran a sleeve across his brow. His hands were bloodied and trembling. He heaved an exhausted sigh.

Slim struggled up from his chair and looked down at Jess. “Doc, will he make it?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

Doc Owen wiped his bloody hands on the even bloodier apron that covered his clothing. “I’ve done all I can but I’m afraid it’s too little and too late. His vital signs are weakening. I’m afraid he’s dying.

“You can’t mean that, isn’t there something else you can do for him?” Slim pleaded.

The agony in Slim’s voice and features stabbed at the doctor’s heart. “He’s lost too much blood and he’s slipped into a coma that I’m afraid he’ll never wake from.”

Slim took hold of the doctor’s arm. “Would giving him more blood help? I’d gladly give him all my blood if it would save him.”

The kindly doctor shook his head. “It’s too risky and it could kill him.”

“But I’ve heard of men being saved by blood transfusions during the war, can’t you do that for Jess?” Slim grabbed the doctor’s arms and looked furtively into his eyes.

Doctor Owen gently pulled his arms out of Slim’s grasp. “Yes, men’s lives have been saved by transfusions of blood from volunteers but just as many if not more have died from those same transfusions. It’s too dangerous and I would only attempt it as a last resort.”

“But, you just said Jess is dying. I’d say it’s time to do something drastic right now. What do you say?” Slim pleaded.

Mort could spoke up. “Slim’s right Doc, you have to do it. It could be the only thing that will save Jess and it couldn’t be anything worse than dying.”

The haggard doctor thought for a moment and he realized that he was so tired that he wasn’t thinking straight and did a quick mental inventory of the instruments he would need to do the task. He was certain he could make do with the supplies he had brought. “You’re right, I wasn’t thinking straight. These old bones aren’t used to climbing hills and long rides and long complicated surgeries. This is the time for desperate measures.”

We’d better hurry. Looking up into Slim’s eyes he queried, “Are you sure you’re up to this? You still look a little green around the gills, you know. Nathan is in better shape.”

“No, it’s my decision and it’ll be my blood. I think Jess would agree.”

The doctor set up his instruments for the transfusion and thanked his lucky stars that he had thought to put the tubing and needles he would need in his medical bag. He had Slim sit on the bench and rest his arm next to Jess’. By the end of the procedure, Jess’ face started to regain a little color and his heart beat stronger. Smiles and sighs of relief replaced the frowns of worry on the faces of the men hovering over him. It appeared that Slim’s blood had done the trick.

Doctor Owen finished examining Jess and pronounced that he was much stronger. “Jess is by no means out of the woods, but he has a chance now, thanks to Slim. Only time will tell.”

“No, Doc, thanks to you and your skills.” Slim replied.

Doctor Owen turned wearily toward Cheryl realizing that his work wasn’t finished. He had another patient to attend to. Hers was a superficial wound and the bullet lay just under the surface in the fleshy part of her shoulder.

Nathan had come up to join them during the operation on Jess. He explained felt he would be of more help in the miner’s cabin. Now he sat next to Cheryl holding her hand. He picked Cheryl up and placed her on the makeshift operating table while Slim and Mort moved Jess to take her place on the bed.

The doctor sedated her and quickly removed the bullet from her chest. He pronounced that she would fine and up and around in a few days. Doc Owen said that she was stable enough to be taken to the cabin below. He told Nathan that he could take her home to Boulder the next day.

Turning to Mort and Slim he rubbed his weary eyes. “Jess can’t be moved for several days. I’ll stay here with him until he’s out of danger.” Although he sounded optimistic Doctor Owen was actually afraid that Jess wouldn’t survive but didn’t have the heart to tell them. He also didn’t tell them that the greatest danger Jess faced now was infection and then there was the matter of the coma that he had slipped into. Silently he said a little prayer asking for guidance and the skill to save to save the young man lying in the bed across the room.

Slim sat at Jess’ bedside hoping that his friend would regain consciousness. Concern and then fear ate at him. Then guilt began to creep into his thoughts as he watched Jess lay there unmoving and so pale. If only… He shook his head, pulled himself together and turned to listen to what the doctor had to say.

“Nathan, when you return to Boulder, wire Mrs. Reynolds in Denver and ask her to return home, Cheryl will need her,” continued Doctor Owen. “Meanwhile you may leave her at the hospital in Mrs. Owen’s care.”

“Of course I’ll do whatever is necessary.” He looked at the very white and weakened Slim then turned to Mort. “Sheriff Cory, will you help me get her down the hill? I saw some long poles leaning against the wall of the cave and can use them and some blanket to make a travois and strap it to the pack horse.”

Mort nodded. “If you’re staying here with Jess, doctor, we’ll need extra bedding. I’ll bring it when I return.”

Slim stood up. “I’ll help too.” He was feeling frustrated and needed to do something to help.

He started to his feet and Mort placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back in his chair. “You stay here; you look like you’re out on your feet. I can handle it. You’re liable to fall down the hill and then we’d have another patient on our hands.”

“Alright, it’s just that I’m feeling so damned useless.” He ran his hand through his hair and took a ragged breath. “Bring enough bedding for two; I’ll be staying up here with the doc.

After building the travois Nathan and Mort laid Cheryl on it and led the pack horse down the rocky hillside. They put her on the bed in the front room that Jess had occupied just that morning. It was early afternoon and the day was turning warm.

Mort stepped onto the front porch, looked up at the sun and wondered where the morning had gone. A nagging thought tugged at his memory. He pushed it aside and concentrated on the task at hand − the gathering bedding. He loaded the bundle on the pack horse and returned to check if Nathan needed anything before he left. He found Nathan still sitting at Cheryl’s bedside holding her hand and dabbing at her face with a damp cloth.

“Is there anything you need before I climb back up the hill, Nathan?”

Nathan hadn’t noticed that Cory had walked into the room and looked up startled. Before he could answer a loud drumming of hooves approaching the cabin turned their attention to the front door.

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Part Three