Six Gun Justice by David Cross Read Free Book Online Page B

sliding from the saddle. Then darkness took over, and he knew nothing. There was only the soft easing of the pain, and a weightlessness that suffused his aching body. He thought he must have died.
     
    The light streaming through the window hurt his eyes, and his shoulder was on fire when he opened his eyes. He looked around, noting that he was in a room, lying on a bed, the slowly realized it was his own bed. He tried to speak, to call out to Sarah, to ask her to help him get up, but the only thing he could manage was a hoarse croak. She must have heard him though, because the next thing he knew, she was there, sitting on the bed beside him, rubbing his fevered head with a cool damp cloth. He opened his eyes again, to gaze up into her strained face, and could see the concern for him written there.
    He tried to speak again, and managed a few words that came from his parched throat in a gravelly sound.
    “How long have I been out?”
    “It’s been two days now. Lie still, you have a lot of mending yet.”
    “I can’t,” he croaked anxiously. Murdock’s men may come at any time. I…I have to get up!”
    “Shush! You just lie still; before you start that wound bleeding again! Murdock’s men were here yesterday. I took care of them.”
    “They were here?” he asked in panic. “What happened?”
    “I met them at the door with a rifle. I told them you were gone and I didn’t know when you would be back, and ordered him, and his men off the ranch. They said they would be back to take care of you when you did return. One of his riders, the one Murdock called Drago, started to dismount, and I shot him in the side. They all cleared out in a hurry then.”
    He lay there staring at her in awe, realizing she had a lot more sand in her craw than he had ever imagined. He was concerned for her safety. Most men would never dare to kill a woman, but some of the guns Murdock had surrounded himself with were not the kind to worry about the gender of their victims. He was sure proud of her though for standing up to Murdock and his crew.
    “Could you give me some water, please,” he croaked.
    “Of course, but you lie still,” she said, pressing his head lightly against the pillow.
    She reached for a glass sitting nearby on a table, next to a porcelain pitcher of water, and poured the water for him. She held his head up for him to drink, and he tasted the cool water as it slaked his thirst, and cooled his parched throat. It revived him somewhat; seeming to give him some strength, at the same time he realized how hungry he was.
    “I think I could eat my horse right now,” he said weakly.
    “I’ll get you something to eat right away,” she said, a loving smile on her face. “What would you like?”
    “I could use a steak, and make it blood rare. I feel like I haven’t eaten for a week.”
    “Coming right up,” she said, touching his forehead. “I think your fever has broken. You should mend nicely now.”
    She left the room to prepare his food, leaving him to lie there thinking how hard it must have been for her to get him in the house. She was as strong as any woman that he knew, but he was a pretty big man for her to handle alone. He wondered about his mare, where his Colt was, and how long he had before Murdock, and his men returned to try and run his Sarah off the ranch again. They probably thought he was dead, so they wouldn’t be too long about trying to run her off the ranch again. He had to get better quick. He had a date with the two men who had tried to dry gulch him, not to mention Murdock, but this time he would not ride into his ranch for him, he would wait until he could catch them on the range. Then he would exact the vengeance he had promised his antagonist.
    Shortly, Sarah brought him a small serving tray with a plate, on which was a thick, juicy steak, some soup, and a big slice of cornbread. His mouth watered as she sat it on the table next to the bed, fluffed the pillows behind his back. She set the