It
took nearly two hours for them to get back to the ranch house. A buckboard would
have made it much easier for Slim and more comfortable for both Jess and Mort,
but Slim had not wanted to waste the extra time that it would have taken to go
back to the ranch for a wagon. His only concern was getting Jess home to safety
as quickly and gently as possible.
Although
Traveler was a strong horse, the weight of two men in the saddle coupled with
the soft, muddy ground had taken its toll and he took up lame within a mile of
home. So Slim carried Jess for the last mile, as carefully as his strength would
allow, with Mort and the horses in tow. Neither of the marshal’s deputies had
made it back with them alive and the sheriff did not look forward to taking that
news back to Laramie.
Mort walked
to the barn with the horses and watched Slim plod through the muddy yard toward
the house with their limp friend in his arms. Slim was relieved to find that it
was still warm inside as he carried Jess to their bedroom. Even though there had
not been an afternoon stage, Craig had been back to make sure that the fire did
not go out.
Slim gingerly
laid Jess down on his own bunk since it was closest to the door, then began to
gently remove two days’ worth of blood and dirt from his friend’s body. Slim
was chilled to the bone and exhausted and his arms shook from the effort of
carrying Jess but he needed to see how serious the injuries were. He knew that
he would never find the source of the blood that covered Jess’ face and
clothing if he did not remove the layers of caked-on mud.
A few minutes
later, Mort came in and looked down at the unconscious young man. The tired
sheriff had wrapped a bandana around his upper arm and Slim could see that he
was in considerable pain as he cradled his injured arm.
“You need
to see the doc, too,” Slim mumbled as he continued to work on Jess.
“I’ll be
fine…. Doesn’t look good, Slim,” he noted quietly. He leaned against the
doorframe, not taking his eyes off Jess.
Slim
didn’t dare agree or disagree. He was beginning to see the extent of the
damage that Durbin has inflicted on Jess and he was horrified by it. Much of the
bleeding seemed to have come from a large wound on the back of Jess’ head and
the lumps that Slim could feel when he ran his fingers through Jess’ dark hair
made him cringe. He could only hope that his pard’s famously hard head had
once again saved him, as it had in the past. How many times had he and Mort been
in just this type of situation, patching the volatile young man up after one of
his many encounters with a bullet or a group of balled fists? Jess always seemed
to pull through and bounce right back. Looking down at his battered friend, he
doubted that recovery was going to be as easy or as swift this time.
Mort drew in
a quick breath when Slim cut away what remained of Jess’ bloodstained shirt.
The shattering bullet had evidently gone right through but the wound that it had
left in its path was jagged and raw. Running his palm across Jess’ torso, Slim
could feel that he had at least one cracked rib and the doctor would definitely
be needed to stitch up the gaping hole in his side.
As he
continued to wipe dried blood and dirt from Jess’ upper body, Slim could make
out the dark purple bruises alongside the paler ones that had already started to
heal from Jess’ tumble from the big stallion only days earlier. The stark
reminder made Slim sigh. ‘Had that only been two days ago?’ He felt
like years had passed. He felt a pang of guilt as he realized that he had not
even given a thought to poor Mike or Daisy. He wondered how the little boy was
feeling and hoped that he would understand why neither he nor Jess had gone to
visit him in town. He closed his eyes at the thought of having to tell them
about Jess, especially Daisy. She had never actually come out and said it but
Slim knew that she held a special spot in her heart for the spirited young man.
He knew that it would break her heart to see Jess this way, bruised and
bleeding.
As Slim
finished up and washed his hands at the washstand, Mort took another quick
glance at Jess. He had hoped that most of the dark stains on his face and body
would wash off as Slim cleaned him up but he could now see the cuts and angry
bruises that covered Jess’ body. He couldn’t help but cringe when he thought
about what further harm Durbin had had in store for him. He was thankful that
they’d found him when they did. He watched Slim cover Jess with a warm blanket
and gently swab his friend’s fevered brow and he could not imagine how Slim
would ever deal with losing Jess. He didn’t dare think of how he would feel
about it, either.
“I really
should get back to town now, Slim. He needs a doctor and I need to send word to
the marshal about his two deputies. ‘Sides, I need to find out if anyone in
town knows about this… if word got back to Mrs. Cooper -” Mort lowered his
eyes. He had seen Daisy at the hotel when he had stopped by to look in on Mike
– he really liked the little boy and he knew how concerned everyone was over
his fall. Mrs. Cooper’s features had been drawn with worry over her small
charge. She really didn’t need to know about Jess, at least not until the
doctor could patch him up some.
Slim stood up
and followed the sheriff out into the living room. He took one last look over
his shoulder at Jess, if only to satisfy himself that he was really there and
safe at home. He had done everything that he could for him for the time being.
Durbin wasn’t coming back to finish the job and that thought alone allowed
Slim to breathe a sigh of relief. All he could do was hope that Mort could bring
the doctor back as quickly as possible.
“Sit down a
minute, Mort.” Slim motioned to a chair and walked toward the kitchen.
Mort didn’t
argue. He felt that he might not make it into town if Slim didn’t patch him up
first – the road back to Laramie would be a mess after last night’s storm
and he knew he was in for a hard ride. He hadn’t slept much over the past
couple of days and his arm was throbbing steadily. Slim came back with a bowl of
steaming water and clean bandages. He rolled up the sheriff’s sleeve then
cleaned and wrapped the bullet wound as tightly as the man could stand. Mort
winced but did not pull away – he hated flesh wounds, they always seemed more
painful than other serious injuries.
Slim rose
stiffly from his chair and walked toward the door, leaning forward to open it
for the sheriff. He helped Mort onto his horse and watched him ride away then he
walked back into the house and looked in on Jess again. Whether he was sleeping
or unconscious, Slim could not be sure. He was glad that Jess was out, though.
He didn’t have anything stronger than whiskey to give him for the pain if and
when he came to. They had used the last of Daisy’s precious supply of medicine
for Mike just days before.
Slim sat down
on the edge of the bunk and felt Jess’ flushed face – the fever was getting
worse and Jess was restless. Slim dampened a fresh towel in the bowl of cold
water he had left next to the bed and folded it over Jess’ burning forehead.
He
sighed and looked over at his reflection in the small mirror that Jess kept next
to the washstand. He was shocked at his own appearance - he was unshaven and
dark circles had appeared under his eyes. He decided that this was not the way
he wanted to look when Jess did come to – seeing Slim like that would only
make Jess worry. He went back to the kitchen to get more warm water and went
about cleaning himself up while he tried to blot out the sound of Jess’
increasingly laboured breathing and fever driven moans. Feeling better and
mildly refreshed, he sat down across from the bed on which Jess lay, rested his
elbows on his thighs, and held his head in his hands. Moments later, Slim’s
own deep breathing joined Jess’ ragged breaths.
Mort
Cory rode into town just as the sun was setting. He was exhausted but he
didn’t stop until he got to Doc Peter’s house; he knew that it was pointless
to stop at the man’s office after suppertime. Looking down at his bloodstained
and torn shirt sleeve, he was glad that Slim had taken the time to clean and
bandage his arm – old Doc’s wife was rather particular about how visitors to
her home looked, especially in the evening hours, and she frowned on anyone who
was not prim and proper when they came to call. He could just imagine what her
reaction to his muddy clothing was going to be. Mort grimaced slightly as he
walked up to the door – he never could figure out how the doc put up with his
fussy wife. The man had a stronger constitution than he did…
“Sheriff
Cory, what can I do for you on this fine evening?” The doctor seemed mildly
relieved when his wife stayed out of the entrance though Mort could see her
scowling in the background. He guessed that she was upset that someone had dared
disturb her quiet evening but she wasn’t going to say anything with the
sheriff standing there.
“Evening,
Doc,” he tipped his hat at the sullen woman and gave the doctor a look that
made the older man reach over for his bag. He picked up his shoes and stepped
onto the front step then shut the door as his wife started to speak. It was
obvious to Mort that he was glad for the interruption.
As the doctor
went for his carriage, Mort led his horse to the hitching post in front of his
office. He didn’t dare try to mount up again – his arm was numb and he
recalled quite clearly how Slim had all but lifted him into the saddle when
he’d left the ranch. He stepped into his dark office, lit the lamps, and sat
down at the desk, absently rifling through the pile of messages that had been
neatly stacked next to the lamp. He missed having a deputy – he cursed the
clear evening sky and the first warm night in weeks, knowing that he wasn’t
likely to have much of a chance to rest. After all the rain, most of the locals
would be just itching for a night of fun in town and he was really not up to
dealing with that right now.
Under any
other circumstances, he would have recruited Jess for the job – the young man
never seemed to be able to turn him down when he needed his help and just had a
knack for keeping the fragile peace in town, even if that meant taking on or
locking up the local troublemakers. He also seemed to have an unlimited amount
of energy to spare… Probably didn’t hurt that his reputation as a hot head
and a fast gun was well known throughout Laramie, in fact the whole territory.
The doctor
walked in a few minutes later and stood in the doorway, looking at the sheriff
and waiting calmly. Mort had never really understood old Doc Peters – he was a
very quiet man who never seemed to say much and he was unflappable, the most
patient man Mort had ever met. ‘Then again, with a wife like that…’ But
he was the best doctor Mort had ever known and he was thankful for that,
especially this evening.
“Are
you alright, sheriff?” The doctor looked at the bandage on Mort’s arm.
“I reckon
I’ll be, but Slim could really use you out at his place.”
Knowing that
Mike and Daisy were already in town while the little boy recovered from his
injuries, he simply asked, “Jess again?”
Dr. Peters
would never admit it to anyone but he could never figure out how the young man
managed to hurt himself so regularly. He was amazed at his resilience and he
marvelled at the fact that Jess was still in one piece. He could not help but
feel a touch of pride at the thought that he had more than once been responsible
for the young man’s quick return to health. As a physician, men like Jess
Harper scared him but he had to respect any man who was willing to step in front
of a bullet or have the stuffing beaten out of him to protect friend or family.
“Yeah, but
this time it’s really bad.”
Mort looked
down and shook his head. The doctor just stood his ground and waited for the
sheriff to continue.
“It looks
like he’s been shot and his head has really been knocked around. I also think
he spent last night lying in a field during the storm… Someone really did a
number on him. He was still out cold when I last saw him.”
The doctor
nodded his head and walked toward the sheriff, fiddling with the clasp on his
bag. Mort shook his head and pointed to the door. The doctor closed his satchel
and took hold of the doorknob then turned and spoke up, “Okay, sheriff, but I
insist on looking at that arm of yours when I get back.”
Mort looked
at the doctor in resignation and nodded his head.
“By the
way, when you have a chance, could you look in on Mrs. Cooper and Mike? I was
meaning to check on them tonight, but I don’t see that happening now.
There’s been talk in town about trouble and Harper’s name came up. It might
be best to let her know as much as you can.” The doctor pulled the door open
and walked out.
Mort waited until the sound of the doctor’s carriage faded into the night. He had hoped to delay telling Daisy what had happened but he had to admit that the doctor was probably right. Mort could appreciate that, if old Doc Peters had heard something, it had to be all over town by now. He changed into a clean shirt and combed his hair, stalling as long as he could while he tried to think of the right words to say to Daisy.
“Well,
Mike. Don’t you think it’s about time you put your game away and try to get
some rest?”
“Aw, but
it’s still early, Aunt Daisy,” moaned the little boy as he looked through
the window at the fading evening sun. Even the checkerboard game was no longer
distracting him as it had earlier in the day. He had let it slip from his lap
and it now lay forgotten at the foot of the bed.
Daisy noticed
where he was staring longingly and she walked over to pull down the shade. She
felt for the small boy, knowing that he was itching to get up and move around.
His bruises were healing and she was glad to see that the twinkle in his eyes
was back. The doctor had told her that it was fine for him to sit up in bed and
he had eagerly taken the opportunity to move around a little bit. Even so, Daisy
had not allowed him to get out of bed for two days now and he was starting to
get very restless. Little boys were not meant to stay cooped up in a hotel room
all day. But the last thing that she needed was for him to leave the confines of
the hotel room. She could not bear the thought of his hearing what she had
overheard when she had taken a walk down to the lobby. She flinched even as she
remembered the conversation that she had overheard.
“Harper?
You don’t mean Jess Harper, do you?” the hotel manager asked incredulously.
Daisy had not
recognized the stranger who spoke with the hotel manager but when she heard
Jess’ name, she had decided to stay and listen to the conversation from behind
a curtain.
“Darn
straight, Jess Harper! Ya know any other Harper in these here parts?”
It was
obvious to Daisy that the man who spoke with the hotel manager had not benefited
from much of an education.
“Why is
this Dur--“ the manager stared blankly.
“Durbin –
his name’s Durbin.” The filthy man rolled his eyes as though he thought that
anyone who didn’t know Durbin was a total imbecile.
“Yes,
Durbin, why is he looking for Mr. Harper?”
The hotel
manager knew Jess as well as anyone else in town but in the four years that he
had come to know Slim Sherman’s partner, he had rarely had the opportunity to
speak with him directly. He could not imagine anyone wanting to harm him. He
thought the dark-haired young man with the shocking blue eyes was definitely
rough around the edges and he preferred to not have Jess as a guest in his fine
establishment more than he really had to. But he had witnessed the young man’s
loyalty to the town and his friends firsthand more than once. He respected
Jess’ dogged determination to keep the peace when he was Mort Cory’s acting
deputy, and he knew that carried through even when Jess Harper was not wearing
the star. Besides, he was a likeable sort and very few people in town seemed to
have a problem with him.
Daisy had
quietly listened to the private conversation, her eyes growing wide as she
learned about the awful man. She had tried to stifle a cry when she heard that
he was intent on killing Jess, her Jess! The conversation had ended
abruptly and the hotel manager rushed to her side at the sound of her gasp. She
had been hard-pressed to explain that she had only just come down to stretch her
legs. She did not want him to know that she had listened to the entire
conversation. She didn’t think that he believed her but he had escorted her
back to her room and tried to make sure that she was well before he reluctantly
returned to his desk in the lobby.
She was relieved to find that Mike had dozed off while she had been downstairs. She did not know how she would have explained the tears that flowed unchecked down her cheeks as she rocked herself in the chair and prayed for Slim and Jess’ safety.
Slim
awoke to the sound of a carriage coming into the yard. His muscles rebelled as
he stood and stretched his aching back. He could not believe that he had fallen
asleep so easily, sitting on Jess’ bed, and he wished that he had actually
made the effort to stretch out on his back. He looked over at his sleeping
friend and hoped that the carriage that had just arrived belonged to the doctor.
Slim walked
stiffly from the room and opened the front door just as the doctor was getting
out of his carriage. Seeing Slim’s expression, he quickened his pace and
walked briskly across the muddy yard and up to the house, stopping only long
enough to remove his sullied shoes. Slim led the older man to his friend’s
bedside and watched the doctor’s frown deepen as he sized up Jess’ bruised
body and brightly flushed cheeks. He softly touched the sweaty forehead then
leaned over and pulled back the blankets, exposing the bruises and gaping wound
on the young man’s side.
“Best get
some warm water and clean towels, Slim. I could really use your help but I have
to warn you – this is not going to be pleasant.”
Slim looked
down at his best friend, “For Jess or for us?”
He hurried to
the kitchen and heated some water – he also made a fresh pot of very strong
coffee. It was going to be another long night and he needed all the help he
could get. The fire was almost out again and there was a distinct chill in the
air. Slim couldn’t be sure if it was from the cool evening air or from his
worry over Jess’ condition but he stoked the fire nonetheless, knowing that it
would do no good to let the house freeze. That was the last thing he needed to
worry about.
As Slim
carried the bowl of steaming water back to the bedroom, the doctor was finishing
up what looked to be the worst of the operation, cutting away much of the
blackened skin from around the raw opening on Jess’ side. Most of the sheets
that Slim had used for bandages and to wrap Jess were piled in a bloodied heap
on the floor next to the bed. Jess moaned and stirred but he did not wake. The
doctor swabbed Jess’ chest with warm water and started to sew the jagged edges
of his gaping wound together. Slim could not bring himself to watch. Instead, he
stared at Jess’ strained face and took his hand and held it tight, hoping
that, even unconscious, Jess would know that he was there with
him.
Once his
torso was thoroughly wrapped in clean bandages, the doctor carefully rolled Jess
onto his side. The pillow on which he had lain since Slim had brought him in was
soaked with sweat and stained with blood. Slim let go of Jess’ hand long
enough to reach for a clean pillow from the other bunk while the doctor
skilfully sewed up the seeping gash on the back of the young man’s head. Slim
smiled slightly – the doc had not needed to shave any of the thick wavy hair
off. The last time that Jess had injured his head, old Doc had insisted on
shaving off a large portion of Jess’ hair and Slim had not heard the end of
it. Even Daisy had not been able to get him to take his hat off at the table.
Slim just shook his head as he remembered how he and Daisy had unabashedly
teased Jess about his vanity and he had taken it all in stride even though he
had refused to go into town until it grew back.
Once he
finished wrapping Jess’ head, the doctor rolled him onto his back and gently
propped his head against the soft, clean pillow. He gave Jess something for the
fever then he took a small bottle out of his bag and handed it to Slim. Giving
Jess a final glance, he stood up, took off his spectacles and wiped his brow
with the back of his hand then followed Slim out of the room.
“I’ll
have that coffee now, Slim.” The doctor sat down wearily and watched the tall
blond man pour two cups of coffee.
Slim set the
cups down on the table and joined the doctor, taking a deep swallow of the acrid
brew.
Slim looked
up with bloodshot eyes. “Tell me the truth, Doc, how is he?”
“Well, it
isn’t good, but I’ve seen him in worse shape. I’m mostly concerned about
his high fever but I’ve given him something to help with that. I think that I
was able to get most of the poison and dead flesh cut away. Only time will tell,
though.” The doctor drank some of his coffee and frowned. “And promise me
not to give him any of this – it would kill him for sure.”
Slim looked
up with a smirk and shook his head. He was too tired to give the doctor a proper
response – he had to agree that the coffee tasted pretty awful but he wasn’t
ready to admit it to himself just yet. Even the bitter brew was not giving him
the energy he needed. He picked up the small vial that the doctor had given him
and looked up questioningly.
“Once he
wakes up, make sure he takes a spoonful of that twice each day until the bottle
is empty. It will help with the pain and infection and it should also quell his
fever if it doesn’t break on its own.”
“You know
Jess hates to take anything for pain.”
The doctor
just nodded as Slim continued, “What does this stuff taste like? Jess might be
more cooperative if it doesn’t taste too bad. Otherwise, I’m likely to have
a battle on my hands.”
The doctor
simply smiled and looked down at his coffee cup. “Let’s just say that it
tastes worse than this concoction you call coffee.” He rubbed his chin
thoughtfully. “You may be looking at having a battle on your hands, Slim.
I’ve heard it compared to horse manure but I don’t know of too many people
who’ve had the pleasure of finding out. Your friend is only one of a select
few.” The doctor winked at Slim. “I suppose we’ll have to ask him what he
thinks of it when he wakes up.”
Slim stared
at the older man, not believing what he had just heard. ‘Did he just say
what I think he said? Can’t be. I must be more exhausted than I thought.’ He
was still shaking his head when the doctor stood up and put on his hat. Slim
followed him to the door and watched him struggle with his wet shoes.
“Just make
sure to keep a cool towel on his head to keep his fever down but try to keep him
warm. He should sleep a little while longer and I’ll be back in a day or so to
change his bandages. Don’t let him get up out of bed when he does wake up and
make sure you get him to finish up that bottle of medicine.”
Slim nodded
and the doctor turned toward his carriage. “Oh, and get some sleep! You look
terrible. That poor boy won’t know who’s in worse shape when he wakes up. He
might just reckon he has to take care of you…”
The doctor waved and drove into the dark night. Slim turned back to the house and wearily sat down on the old leather couch. Only hours earlier, he had felt like his world was falling apart but he could now breathe a sigh of relief. From what Mose had told him, Mike was doing much better and Mort was going to talk to Daisy to let her know that there was nothing for her to worry about. Even Jess looked like he was going to be all right. Slim blew out the lamp and curled up in Daisy’s afghan. For the first time in almost half a week, he slept soundly and only awoke at the sound of the squawking hens in the morning sun.
Daisy
looked over at the small sleeping boy and smiled. She always loved to watch her
boys sleep – they looked so peaceful when at rest and it was the only time
that she could just watch them without having to provide an excuse. They would
never understand how special they were to her but that wasn’t important. She
had grown to love each of them as her own and she loved that they were each so
different.
Though Mike
was young and full of energy like Jess, she was always amazed at how like Slim
he was, even more so as he was growing up. She did not know Slim’s brother
Andy as well but she knew that he shared more in common with Jess than with
Slim. Even now, she could sometimes sense a hint of jealousy when Slim talked
about Andy and Jess. She didn’t think that Slim would ever really understand
those two but she loved the way that he had embraced their differences – she
felt that this was one of the main reasons that Jess and Slim got along so well.
They complimented each other perfectly and she knew that they were closer than
most brothers.
She wished
that she could speak to Slim now. She could always rely on his cool head and
practical thinking. Unlike Jess, whose tendency to jump headlong into unknown
situations more often than not resulted in getting him into trouble, Slim
usually reasoned matters out before he acted and she always felt secure around
him. He would know what to do about this new problem and she hoped that he and
Jess would find a way to avoid the trouble that she knew was brewing.
She was still
lost in her thoughts when a soft knock at the door startled her. Pressing a hand
to her chest in an effort to calm her racing heart, she slowly got up and opened
the door slightly.
Mort Cory
took off his hat and nodded to her. “Evening, Mrs. Cooper. I don’t mean to
disturb you but may I come in?”
She smiled
when she saw the sheriff – she had always liked him and he was such a good
friend to Slim and Jess. She glanced at the still figure on the bed and stepped
into the hallway. Mort nodded knowingly and moved back so that she could close
the door. He gently took her arm and held it, trying to find the right words to
say to her.
“What is
it, Mort? Does this have anything to do with a Mr. Durbin and Jess?” Daisy
hoped that Mort could shed some light on the disturbing information that she had
heard earlier that evening.
Mort’s head
snapped up and he looked into her deep blue eyes. He had expected her to wonder
why Slim and Jess had not come to town yet, and he even thought that she might
have heard that a stranger was in town looking for Jess, but he was totally
unprepared for her question.
It was now
she who took his arm and squeezed it gently. “It’s okay, Mort. I overheard
two people talking about it. I must say that I am very worried about Jess… and
Slim. What do you know about this?” She was tugging at his sleeve, willing him
to provide the answers to her questions.
“Maybe we
should go sit down.”
“Mort Cory!
I asked you a question and I would like an answer.”
Daisy could
be very forceful when she needed to be. She had used the same tone that she used
when scolding her boys. Mort looked at her sheepishly.
“Durbin
is… was a violent criminal and yes, he was looking to find Jess. It was
a set-up and he was planning to kill Jess, but he is no longer going to cause
any more trouble.”
He hoped that
his answer would satisfy the determined widow. He was far too exhausted to try
to explain everything that had happened.
“You said
‘was a violent criminal’ and that he ‘was’ looking for Jess. Does that
mean that he is in jail or – Oh, Mort, is he dead?” She shook her head then
looked down, a dark thought dawning as she noticed his injured arm. “Did you
have to kill him, Mort?”
She knew how
much he hated having to kill anyone, even a dangerous criminal like Durbin, and
she wondered if that was not why Mort was finding it so difficult to speak to
her now. She had only just learned of Durbin’s intentions and she could not
fathom that there had already been time enough for him to find Jess. The thought
that Jess had nearly been killed and that Slim was distraught with worry over
him did not even enter her thoughts.
“Yes, Miss
Daisy, I did have to kill him. He was not a man to be reasoned with.” That was
a colossal understatement but he didn’t have the energy to explain that all to
her. He leaned against the wall and looked down at his feet.
She looked
relieved. “Thank heavens Jess is safe! I heard how horrible this Durbin man
was and I can only imagine…” she shuddered at the thought.
Mort looked
up at her but he didn’t smile. He reached over and held her small hands in
his.
“Daisy, he
did find Jess.” He heard the elderly woman gasp and he quickly continued,
“But he’s alive! He’s been shot and he has a few cuts and bruises but
he’ll be fine soon. Doc’s with him right now and Slim will take good care of
him.”
Daisy sighed
with relief and turned to open her hotel room door. Mort reached out to take her
arm.
“I must go
to him, Mort.” She stopped as Mort tightened his grip. She turned and looked
up at him.
“No, Miss
Daisy. He’s not in town; Slim’s with him at the ranch – it was best not to
try to move him. Mike still needs you here and the road isn’t yet safe for
travel. In a couple of days you’ll be able to go home. The doctor told me just
this evening that Mike is doing much better and he’ll be ready to go home
soon.”
Daisy bowed
her head in resignation. She hated to admit it but she knew he was right. She
could never leave Mike alone and she trusted Slim to look after Jess.
“Thank-you
for telling me. I appreciate it, Mort.”
She reached
up and kissed the sheriff on the cheek. He blushed a little and smiled back.
“Now, you
should go home and get some rest yourself. You look very tired and your arm must
be hurting you!” Daisy’s brows furrowed with concern as she softly touched
his bandaged arm.
Mort
couldn’t help but smile. He could understand why Slim and Jess thought so much
of her. He had to agree that hers was the best advice he’d heard all day.
“That’s
where I’m headin’. It’s been a long day and I am pretty bushed. As long as
this town’s hooligans stay out of the streets...”