Gold (30 page)

“
I’ve a young brother in St. Louis,” he said.
“If anything happens to me I want him to have half of what’s mine. Last night I sat down and
wrote it all out on the paper in your hand.”

“
And the other half?”

“
It’s to go to Selena.”

“
Selena?” Rhynne frowned. “Are you certain that’s what you want?”

“
As sure as I’m standing here.” Danny smiled thinly. “Mr. Rhynne, shouldn’t we be getting on
with the sport?”

Rhynne gripped his arm.
“As you wish.” He
turned to Ned. “The pistol’s loaded?”

“
All five chambers.”

“
You fired the gun? You know how common
misfires are.”

“
She’s in perfect shape.”

Rhynne led them across the meadow to where
Sutton and his seconds were waiting.

“
Do you wish to continue, Mr. Sutton?” he
asked formally.

“
I do.”

“
Do you wish to continue, Mr. O’Lee?”

“
That I do.”

“
So be it. We’ve agreed that the weapons will
be .36-caliber Paterson Colts. Is that correct?”
Both duelists nodded. “You will stand back-to-
back and at my signal you’ll walk five paces and
stop with your weapons pointed downward. I will
then say, Tire, one, two, three, stop,’ at one-
second intervals. You may turn and shoot, one shot only, from the time I say, ‘fire’ until I say ‘stop.’ Is that understood?”

Again both men nodded.

“Ask the boy if he’ll take back his words,” Sut
ton said to Rhynne.
“Mr. O’Lee, will you apologize to Mr. Sutton for your remarks of yesterday?”

“
I’ll see him in Hell first.”

“
He refuses,” Rhynne said. “So be it. Gentle
men, take your places.”

Sutton and O
’Lee faced each other and then
both turned on their heels so that they were back-to-back with their Colts aimed at the ground. The
men at the fringe of the meadow scrambled out of the line of fire.

“
Cock your weapons,” Rhynne said. The two
hammers clicked back.

“
Take five paces.”

Both men walked five steps and stopped.

“Fire,” Rhynne said.

Danny whirled about and raised his pistol. Sut
ton turned more slowly, raised his Colt and aimed.
Danny fired first. Sutton didn’t move.

“
Missed him,” Ned muttered.

When Rhynne
’s count reached three, King
Sutton fired. The pistol flew from Danny’s hand and he clutched his stomach. Rhynne ran to him.

“
Get down,” he said.

“
I’m all right,” Danny told him. “I’m all right.”

“
Get down, damn it. You’re in shock. You
can’t feel the bullet yet.”

Danny sat on the ground. Rhynne pushed him
onto his back, opening his clothes to find the
wound.

W.W. looked over his shoulder.
“Doctor, you’re
needed,” he called to Braithewaite. The doctor
was already hurrying across the field, black bag in
hand. Sutton stood where he was with his smok
ing gun in his hand.

Rhynne bared a bleeding gash on Danny
’s stomach.
The doctor took forceps from his bag, in
serted the ends into the wound and drew out a
bloodied piece of metal. He wiped it on his sleeve.
“It looks like part of the pistol’s hammer,” he said.
He spread the wound with his fingers. “I think the
bullet must have missed him completely.”

Rhynne stood and quickly walked to King Sut
ton. “He’s got an abdominal wound,” he said.
“Can’t tell how serious. We’ll have to take him to
town. Are you satisfied now?”

“
Will he apologize?”

“
He’s in no condition to be asked. For God’s
sake, are you bloodthirsty?”

“
I’m satisfied.”

“
Good.” Rhynne returned to Danny. “Sutton’s
satisfied,” he said. “Doc, let’s get your patient to
Hangtown.”

“
Some of the boys brought a door along just in
case. We’ll put the lad on it and carry him back.”

When Selena, on the porch of the Empire, saw
the men straggle over the hill toward the hotel, she
ran into the road to meet them. There. What was that? A man being carried on a door. Danny! His
eyes were closed. Was he dead? Had King Sutton
killed him?

She ran forward and turned to walk beside
Danny. “Is he
...
is he badly hurt?” she managed
to ask Doc Braithewaite.

“
Should be right as rain in a few days. All he needs is rest and quiet.”

Selena reached down and took Danny
’s hand. It was warm to her touch. Did he have a fever?
Was his wound infected?
“Oh, Danny,” she said, “you’ll be all right. I’ll take care of you until you are.” She thought she
saw him smile.

Selena spied Rhynne walking a short way be
hind her. Releasing Danny’s hand, she waited
until he reached her, then walked with him. “Take
Danny to the hotel,” she told him. “I’ll look after
him there.”

“
I intended to, Selena.”

“
Give him the Louis XIV bed. Bring up a cot
and put it in the room. I’ll nurse him. I won’t leave him until he’s well again.”

“
I’ll do whatever you say, Selena.” Rhynne
smiled ruefully. “The winner of the lottery was
supposed to have the use of that bed.”

“
King Sutton? Never! I’ll not have it.” She low
ered her voice. “He didn’t win fairly. You know
he didn’t. The bed’s for Danny O’Lee, not for
that would-be murderer.”

“
I’m confident Danny will recover.”

“
How can you be sure? Remember what happened to English Bob. Everyone said he was get
ting better and the next thing we knew he was
dead.”

“
Doc Braithewaite’s due to win one,” Rhynne
said.

“
Look.” Selena nodded behind them. “He’s
actually going to show his face here in town after
what he did.”

Rhynne looked over his shoulder to see King
Sutton walking down the hill toward the hotel.

“
He’s no monster, Selena. He did what he
thought was right. After all, Danny did insult him
in public.”

“
I’ll take care of him, doctor. I’ll nurse him. I
nursed my mother when she had the fever last
year.”

“
That’ll be fine, Miss Selena. I’ve undressed
him and bandaged the wound. He was lucky; it
wasn’t the bullet that hit him, merely a part of his own gun. The wound should be cleaned in about
eight hours and bandaged anew. Other than that,
all he needs is rest. If he should run a fever, and I don’t expect one, let me know so I can leech
him.”

“
I will, doctor.”

After Braithewaite took his bag and left, Se
lena put the back of her hand to her own fore
head and then to Danny’s. If he was feverish, she
thought, he was no more so than she.

“
Selena?” Danny opened his eyes and looked up
at her.

“
Danny, you’re going to be all right. The doctor said you would.”

“
Selena?”

“
Do you want a drink of water, Danny? I’ll go
to the well and fetch you one if you do.”

“
Selena, do you know what came into my head
when I was hit and thought I wasn’t long for this
world?”

“
No, Danny. What?”

“
I said to myself, Danny O’Lee, if you live, and
it’s like as not you won’t with a bullet in you,
you’re to go to Selena, go to her first thing and
say, ‘Selena, I love you. Selena, it’s the truth. I do love you.” He took her hand and pressed it to his
lips.

“
Oh, Danny.” She sat on the bed. He pushed
her hair back from her forehead, his fingers tender
and gentle. Then she was kissing him, her lips
wandering over his face until they found his lips. Once they did, they stopped and held and held.

At the bar downstairs, King Sutton drank down
his whisky and strode to the door while the men
in the gambling saloon watched him in silence. No
one had approached to shake his hand or to drink
with him.

He paused on the porch, hands thrust in his
pockets, listening to the talk that had swelled be
hind him as soon as he had left the bar. He
frowned. First there had been the miners’ resent
ment when he put Jed and Joshua to work pan
ning for gold. Then the girl Esperanza had
stabbed English Bob and committed suicide. And today the duel.

Yet what else could he have done?

Now his course was clear. He’d move on.
Where? Did it matter? Perhaps to Coloma or to
one of the southern mines. And leave Selena? He laughed drily to himself. Rhynne had been right when he said no man could hold her and no man should try.

Good luck to you, Danny O
’Lee, he thought.
You’ll be needing all you can get.

“
Mr. Sutton?”

He turned and for a moment thought Selena
was walking along the porch toward him. No, of
course it wasn’t Selena, even though this woman’s
walk and coloring and voice all reminded him of her.

King Sutton raised his hat.
“Ma’am?” he said.

“
I’m Pamela Buttle-Jones.”

“
Ah, yes, of course. Miss Selena’s mother.”

“
I thought you’d want to know that Danny
O’Lee will be all right. Dr. Braithewaite found that the wound was superficial after all.”

“
I never meant to harm the lad, merely to shoot
the pistol from his hand.”

“
You must be an excellent marksman, colo
nel.”

“
Some have told me so.”

“
My husband was forced to fight a duel years
ago to defend his good name. Fortunately, neither
man was hit and the duel ended in a public house
over a bottle of brandy.”

“
I was the loser today,” King Sutton said.

Pamela nodded. Was that why she had ap
proached him? she wondered. Because she felt sorry for him? Was it her fate to lose her heart to
the world’s defeated? she asked herself.

“
At least I was the loser until this moment,”
King Sutton said. “Selena told me she had a wid
owed mother. I never imagined she’d be so young,
so beautiful, and such a lady.”

“
Mr. Sutton, I’m thirty-eight years old. Beauty
fades along with youth, and there are no ladies,
I’m afraid, in California. Otherwise, I thank you.”

“
A woman, like wine, improves with age. If I
could take you home with me to Georgia you’d
see that we southerners appreciate ladies. I’d be
the envy of every man in the state.”

“
You’re from Atlanta, Mr. Sutton?”

“
No, I live near Athens. The Suttons have
owned a cotton plantation there since before the
Revolution.”

“
It’s a pity we’re not in Georgia. I’m sure I’d
adore having you show it to me.”

“
We can imagine we are.” He swept off his hat
and bowed. “May I accompany you to your door,
Lady Buttle-Jones?”