Bearpaw: An Old West Tale - 15. Chapter 15 Heartbeat

Heartbeat

Bearpaw looked the same as the first time he saw it—sitting beside Lucas when he drove in with two dead bodies in back—quiet and mostly hidden in darkness. A few lanterns were lit here and there, but he saw no people. Jubal rode round back of the hotel and reined his mare to an easy stop.

He’d hurried her along for sure, and she were a touch damp, but she weren’t breathing hard or sweating heavy, showing her fine stamina on this pleasant night. She didn’t mind galloping at a steady speed a’tall, settling into a comfortable rhythm right quick. Felt like she could go for hours. On a bad day, she provided some good, and he thanked her for it with a pat to her neck as he stared in that window where Lucas be.

The lantern glowed low, and Doc Vance sat in a chair next to the bed with his head back against the wall and his mouth open, fast asleep. Jubal dismounted and looped his reins over the hitching post, not taking his eyes off Lucas’s still form, afeared of what he might find when he entered.

Stepping quietly up onto the boardwalk, he remembered the sack of stolen money and valuables in his saddle bag. He expected he’d give them to the sheriff when he came by, wanting no part of anything other than his own gold coins, but he needed Reid to see they were the ones stole from him. He went back and got it and then, holding his breath, he opened the door quiet as he could.

Lucas was in the same position he’d been in when he left, flat on his back with his legs slightly spread, face pointing toward the ceiling and arms at his side. A sheet covered his lower half from just below the wound, but the room was warm. The snoring doc didn’t move an inch until after he stowed the sack in the corner and stepped up to the end of the bed. With a loud snort, the man came fully awake.

“Oh… fell asleep, did I? You’re back.” He pulled his watch from his vest pocket and checked the time before peering back up at Jubal. “Well… your face certainly looks better with all that blood washed off it… put the salve on your chest too?”

“Is he still alive?” Jubal asked, not sure he could see a rise and fall to his chest.

“Yes, of course he is.” His head turned to his patient, and he picked up his hand by the wrist.

Jubal figured he was checking his pulse to be sure he’d been right in saying it, and that irked him some.

Putting the hand back on the bed after half a minute, he turned back his way. “I would have had someone ride out to tell you if he’d passed.”

“He be any better a’tall?”

“Relax, lad. He’s not any worse, but you’re sounding out of breath, there’s unhealthy sweat on your brow, and your fingers are twitching. That’ll land you back on the floor if you don’t calm down. Remove your shirt.”

“What? Why for?”

The man sighed. “If you’re not going to answer my question, I’ll have to see for myself.” He turned the lantern up and waited.

“Spread the salve on like you told me,” Jubal said while struggling out of his shirt. His chest stung when he moved, but it be the least of his worries. It was hard to take his gaze from Lucas’s face. He looked scary white in the lantern light. “He be paler?”

The doctor made a tsking sound. “No… no he isn’t any paler than he was when you left. In fact, there might be a bit more color to him. Now, I said might, but I was thinking there could be a little deepening to his lips when I put moisture on them.” He stood then and peered closely at Jubal’s chest. “More scrapes than I thought. Quite a mess you got there. That nipple painful?”

“When it gets rubbed on from my shirt, I reckon it is.”

“Be careful of it then, and it should heal right enough. What about your chin and cheek? Did they get walloped?”

“No, sir. Only scraped hard by some rough boards is all.”

His words were met with a frown from the doctor. “Good. Shouldn’t bruise then, but they could get more irritated if you don’t look after them. Don’t see any oozing anywhere. Still have the salve?”

“Yep. Plenty left… spreads out easy.”

“Then do the same at least once a day—face and chest—and do not forget. Come see me if you run out of it.”

“I won’t forget. You said he be getting more color? What does that mean?”

“I said might, remember? If that is indeed the case, it would mean he stands a fighting chance, and in terms you can understand, that he has enough blood to build on… enough blood to keep him going while he produces more.”

“So….”

“Jubal, if you’re again wanting me to tell you what will happen, I’m afraid I’m still not able to… it’s too soon to be able to predict an outcome with any certainty. I can say his heart is beating steady, but it’s weak… weaker than I’d like. I’ve listened to it continually, though, and it isn’t erratic— jumping around out of rhythm—so at this point it’s all we can ask for. We need be thankful he’s not conscious and likely in a coma, because the deep rest is letting his body focus on what it needs. You understand?”

Jubal nodded, but he’d have thought a doctor, especially a fancy one from the east, could do more than just wait for a fellow to live or die. The man didn’t know any more than he did. He supposed he was being unfair to him, but seeing Lucas so lifeless was tearing him up bad. He wanted someone to be angry at, and Ronnie Prescott was already dead.

“Lad? I can see you’re upset, and I do understand. It’s obvious you care very much for your friend and I know this is tough… the waiting always is… but be patient. I’ll be as honest as I can with you, but you need to have hope. He’s no longer bleeding—that’s something I’m certain of—the wound is looking as good as can be expected, and I told you his heart is beating steady because it is. That’s all we can expect for now. You know where my office is?”

“Yes, sir,” he answered, feeling his anger fade away, leaving him empty… and scared.

“That’s where I’ll be for the next few hours. Come and get me if you notice any change at all, no matter how small. Don’t be afraid to shake me if I’m sleeping. I need to catch shuteye when I can. If you put your fingers on the underside of his wrist, you can feel his pulse. It might take you a bit to find one, but be patient and calm and you’ll feel it… and that should help you relax, which is what you really need to do.”

“I’ll be calm,” Jubal said. He was left alone when the Doc picked up his bag and walked through the door to the hotel, closing it softly behind him. A lump grew in his throat as he moved over to stand next to the bed. The urge to touch the man’s face was as strong as any he’d ever had, but he didn’t have that right.

Reaching down, he picked up Lucas’s hand to see if he could feel the pulse. That was the only contact he could allow hisself. He hadn’t expected his hand to feel warm, but it did… maybe not as warm as it should be, but it weren’t cold. The doc was right. It took some time before he found his heartbeat, and he had to take a few deep breaths before he did. It was a relief to have the proof of him living against his fingers, and his own heart slowed its galloping.

Turning the chair, he sat down facing his friend, his knees pushing into the mattress. He couldn’t touch that face, but there was no reason he couldn’t look. His whiskers were already a good bit longer, looking thick and dark against the white skin, as did those fine brows and lashes. He wished he could see them kind eyes again, though. He sighed as he picked his hand back up, feeling again for his pulse.

It was such a comfort that he lay Lucas’s wrist across his own hand, and was able to feel it that way. It was what he’d been needing since he first brought him to this room, to know for sure there was still a beating heart inside this man he had such love for.

The contact settled him, and he said another prayer. “Lord, if you’re listening, save this man and let him wake when he’s healed. He’s a good person, and he lives a decent life. Him and me, we took some lives in the recent past as I’m sure you know, but they were evil men… all three of them, Lord, so I hope you don’t hold it against us. I’m asking for him and for me. Ain’t had a friend in a long time, and feel right lucky to have found one in Lucas Rush. If anyone is deserving of being above this earth, it’s him right here. Amen.”

Sighing, he turned around to look out the window. His mare looked relaxed, her eyes closed, and he saw he was surely alone. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on the man’s hand, thinking this might be his only chance to do so. His forehead hit the bed, and weariness came hard at him. He closed his eyes… just for a minute.

“Jubal?”

He woke with a jerk to the sound of Reid’s voice. “Yep.”

“Sorry for waking you. How’s he doing?”

Their hands were still connected, and Jubal felt like he’d been caught doing wrong. “His heart still beats. I.. I got his hand over mine so I can feel it doing so.” Easing his hand out from under Lucas’s after feeling the familiar rhythm, he stood, groaning at the soreness of his back muscles.

“You don’t have to explain such to me.”

Jubal chanced a glance at the man, but couldn’t hold it. “What time it be?”

“About four-thirty… be dawn soon.”

“Four-thirty?! Hard to believe I slept that long. Seems I just closed my eyes,” Jubal muttered, feeling disappointed in hisself. If Lucas had passed, he wouldn’t have known it.

“Hey, you needed it about as bad as anyone does. I was by earlier and saw you through the window. Left you be, and caught a few hours myself in my room back of the office. Samuel’s on duty till noon, but I wasn’t about to go nowhere far. Doc was by too. He said he’d leave you be since everything be fine. It was likely what you both needed. Says he be back at six to do an examination and get some fluids in Lucas.”

“Fluids? How will he do that?”

“Not sure. Seen him use a tube shoved in a good ways once, and also seen him pour and rub the throat. Settled your mare in the livery with some hay and water around midnight. Checked on her since and she seems right content, and there’s no charge for the stay.”

“Obliged to you, Reid. Ashamed to say I forgot about her.” Jubal’s previous awkwardness had left, but it still bothered him he slept so long. “Brought you something.” He gestured to the sack in the corner, relieved it was still there.

“What would that be?”

“Found the third sorrel—the third Prescott horse—another mare. She was picketed about a half mile from the river. Heard her whinny from far off and thought I should investigate.”

“Son of a gun. So he was camped there, right near the farm?”

“Yep. Campfire and bedroll… fire had plenty of days worth of ashes, and I saw that there sack tied up in a tree. Lucky to have seen it where it hung.”

“What’s in it?” the sheriff asked as he walked towards it.

“More of my coins, and some other stuff I suspect is stole from someone.”

Reid looked through it and nodded. “No doubt you’re right from what we know of him. Why didn’t you take your coins? You having trouble accepting these too?”

“No, I will. Reckon it’s silly not to, but I wanted you to see them first. That be the rest of my money but for forty dollars, and you gave me them four single eagles, so I’m square.”

“Yep, you’d be square, and I’m happy for it.”

“So, no reason for them three horses to be mine, but I’ll pay for the one I’m riding. Don’t want to give her up.”

“Way I see it, she replaces your stud horse, and the other two are yours by right.”

“How so? I mean, I was going to give Lucas the choice between the other two, but… anyways… now I’ve thought abut it, it don’t seem right they’re mine or his.”

“Whose should they be?”

“Don’t rightly know. The town’s? The government’s?”

“Government doesn’t seize property unless it’s owed. Same with the town. You’re the injured party, so you just keep them three mares, and I don’t want to hear no more about it… and don’t leave here without your coins, neither. My report will say all losses were recouped. Don’t need complications,” he finished with half a smile.

“If you say so,” Jubal agreed, after meeting the serious expression Reid put back on. “Should be happy those men are dead and I got my money back, but it be hard with Lucas laying there. He didn’t deserve such… he was just living his life is all.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but isn’t that what we all be doing, just living our life, trying not to let others decide it for us? Don’t seem fair when decent men have to watch their backs.” His gaze dropped to Jubal’s neck. He hadn’t worn a kerchief because it no longer seemed important to hide the marks.

“Suppose.” Jubal was confused, mostly because of what appeared to sit beneath the words. What was Reid trying to say?

“You get back to holding his hand and giving him comfort. I know for a fact he’d be happy knowing you be the one here with him. And put these here coins in your pockets and I’ll take the rest and lock it up. That’s a lot of paper money to be responsible for, but someone will have reported it stolen if that be the case. I’ll be sending off some wires soon as the telegraph office opens. You need anything? Some food or drink? Maybe some water, or I could brew up some coffee?”

“No, don’t need a thing,” he answered as he took the coins and divided them between his front pockets, all the while pondering the sheriff’s latest words. Was he saying Jubal was more important to Lucas than Reid be? “I’ll stay till the doc comes and hear what he has to say. Shouldn’t be long, and then I got the animals to look after. You sure you don’t want time with Lucas? I can go for a walk while you keep him company?”

“It’s enough to know you’re sitting with him—this ain’t about me, and you’re what’s best for him right now—and don’t forget about looking after yourself, Jubal. It’s not just the stock what needs taken care of. Get some rest before you come back, you hear me?”

“Yep, I hear you, but I already had me some sleep.” Appeared it was exactly what the man was saying, that Lucas would prefer him there at his bedside. It be something to ponder.

Reid went out the door to the outside, and he was alone with Lucas again. Sitting down, he picked his hand back up, placing it over his and then waited for the comfort of his heartbeat. He felt it right quick on his fingers, slow but steady, and he leaned his face into the top side of Lucas’s hand. He’d felt love once before in his life, and he had no doubt he was feeling it again, because there weren’t nothing else in the world like it. He’d had it and lost it the first time—and might be that was all the Lord meant for him to have. Could be wanting more was being greedy in his eyes.

He quietly muttered another prayer pleading for Lucas to survive. That was all he had a right to ask for, and it would be enough for him, if’n the Lord saw fit to hear his plea.

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