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D.C. Cracker made a grab for Monty’s arm to try and keep him from leaving cover and running out in the middle of the gunfight. “Monty, don’t.”
Of course, the damn fool didn’t listen and ran out because of the stupid kid standing in the middle of it all. D.C. mentally cursed his own stupidity as he ran after Monty. He hit two of the bastards but didn’t get to either Monty or the kid before Monty took two slugs in the chest and he took one in the knee.
D.C. hit the ground, hard, cursing every son of a whore that was shooting at them. He rolled on his stomach and saw Monty lying still. His gut twisted as bullets flew overhead and hit the dust around him. He lived with death every day and managed to shrug it off, but Monty’s death made him angry. He opened the chamber and shook the spent shells out without taking his eyes off the lifeless body. “Why didn’t you listen?”
He reloaded his gun just in time to roll on his back and shoot a man charging the wire fence. “Damn stupidity,” he complained under his breath. “I’m not losing the other one.” He ignored the pain coming from his shattered knee and crawled to hide behind Luke’s dead horse. “Luke!” he called.
His eyes moved rapidly under their lids as he relived the rest of the fight; Luke tackling the kid. Him and Luke hiding behind the horse, trading barbs about how fun this was. Both of them being shot in the chest. It was funny. He didn’t feel anything. He’d been numb. He thought for sure that he finally had the dead man’s hand: aces ‘n eights.
Then he felt an intense fire in his chest. His eyes snapped open as he snarled in pain. “God damn!”
The kid was at his side a split second later. He pushed down on D.C.’s shoulders to keep him from jerking up. “Take it easy, Mr. Cracker.”
The pain made him snap. “God damn it, boy!”
The kid bit his lip. “You have to take it easy or you’ll start to bleed again.”
Not only did his chest hurt, but he felt like he had sharp splinters in his knee. He was hot and sweating. He bit his lip and tasted blood on his tongue. He blinked back tears. “I guess I didn’t die. Death wouldn’t hurt this much.”
The kid gave a small smile. “No, Sir.”
D.C. studied the kid’s face. He looked familiar. He was the one who worked on old man Prescott’s ranch. The stupid one who ran into the fight. Still, he found that he wasn’t mad at him. He remembered being young and dumb, too. “What’s your name again?”
The smile disappeared. “Noah.”
D.C. grit his teeth against the beating pain. “Yeah, that’s right.” His eyes traveled up and down Noah’s intact form. “I see that you didn’t pay for your foolishness.”
Noah stared at the floor. “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you guys. I just…I wanted to help,” he stammered. He licked his lips, took a deep breath, and met D.C.’s eyes. He stuck his chin out. “I wanted to do it for Mr. Prescott. He didn’t deserve to die that way.”
“I know,” D.C. answered wearily. “What about Luke? That stubborn son of a bitch still alive?”
“Yeah, over here, ya angry cuss. Noah, go tell Jo that D.C.’s come back go join us in the land of the living.”
D.C. turned his head to see Luke Rivers in the cot next to his. Luke’s face was drawn in pain and sweat soaked through his shirt. D.C. managed a crooked smile. “You look like shit.”
Luke snorted. “You don’t exactly look fresh as a daisy yourself.”
“Since we’re still here, I guess we won.”
Luke smiled. “You shoulda seen it. Riley’s the one who took out Tate.”
D.C.’s eyes got wide. “No shit. The little lawyer from Chicago took care of big, bad Tate.”
Luke coughed. “Yeah. I don’t know who was more surprised.”
D.C.’s next question stuck in his throat. He turned his head to face forward and focused on the dark wooden beams of the ceiling. He already knew the answer but found an annoying spark of hope in the back of his mind. “And Monty?” he asked quietly.
Luke sighed heavily. “He didn’t make it. He should’ve went home. I don’t know why he came back.”
D.C.’s voice was barely above a whisper. “For the same reason you did. He found something to fight for.”
“Is that why you turned on the railroad to fight with us?” Luke asked in a low tone that requested an answer, but didn’t demand one.
One end of D.C.’s mouth quirked up. “Isn’t that I hated Tate enough of a reason?”
“Sure.”
“That’s enough, guys. You need to rest.”
Both men looked to see Jo Tanner rush in. First, she leaned over Luke. She quickly peeked under his bandages and then kissed his forehead. “You’re lucky to be alive. You both are carrying enough lead to keep every rancher in the territory in ammunition for two months. You’ll be laid up quite a while. There will be plenty of time for talkin’.”
D.C. tried to give her his most charming grin when she started fussing over him, but he was in too much pain and misery to make it effective. He glanced at Luke. “You really gonna marry this one?”
Luke let out a breathless chuckle. “You don’t want to know what she’ll do to me if I don’t.”
Jo rolled her eyes at D.C. and grinned. “If you don’t behave, you won’t be invited to the wedding?”
“Oh, yeah, what makes you think I’d come?” D.C. retorted.
“Because you’re Luke’s friend and a better man than you’ll admit to.” Jo finished checking him and straightened up. “Doc Anderson’s gonna bring you guys some morphine to help with the pain. For now, do your best to rest.”
They watched her and Noah leave. They were quiet for a long time. Luke was the one to break the silence. “You gonna be alright?”
D.C.’s throat was dry. “Yeah.”
Again, they were both quiet. Luke nodded to himself and struggled to prop himself up on his forearms. “D.C.”
D.C. tried to take a deep breath but coughed instead. He got his breathing under control and looked at Luke. “Yeah?”
Luke’s beard couldn’t hide all of his blush. “I…um…I think you guys coulda had something.”
D.C.’s eyes hardened. “Luke,” he warned.
Luke remained calm. “I know you. We rode together a long time.”
D.C. stared at the ceiling again. “And then you disappeared to this ranch in the middle of nowhere for three years.”
“And you spent all your time and money in whorehouses trying to scratch the itch that the girls can’t reach.”
“You’re full of shit,” D.C. muttered.
Luke smirked and lay back down. “Yeah, I probably am.”
Neither said a word. D.C. closed his eyes. An image of a smiling Monty with the bright blue eyes flashed in his mind. //Ya hardly knew him.// he reminded himself. //Nothing woulda come of it.//
They heard a horse and voices outside. Luke hissed as he tried to find a comfortable position. “I stand by what I said.”
D.C. opened his eyes and grunted. “Maybe, but it don’t matter now. Monty had the dead man’s hand.”