Quicksilver Passion (99 page)

Her flawless face
. Her money was gone and her jewelry. All she had left for security was the Nugget and her beauty. She winced at the image of herself covered with scars.
No, I can’t leave, Al; I owe you.”

He reached out and put his hand on her head.
It’s so ironic, you know that? I’m dying anyway; have been ever since we left Chicago. You were the one good thing that ever happened to me, Silver, I had to save you from Brett.”

She cried then, her tears dripping on his homely face.
Oh, Al, I—I didn’t know!”

I didn’t want you to,” he whispered.
Something else—I was wrong about that big half-breed. Crazy jealous of him. He’s the right man for you; I knew it the first time I seen him ... big, gentle. He’d take care of you . . .”

I’m afraid you’re wrong there,” she said and brushed the hair back from his fevered brow. She didn’t tell him she had been waiting for a letter all these weeks and Cherokee hadn’t written.

Doc came over, and stood looking down at them, his weathered face grim with fatigue.

Doc,” Al said,
try to talk some sense into her. I don’t mind dying, the pain was getting too much to bear. But she’s so beautiful ... and so alone now . . .”

Oh, Al, there’s hope still.” She looked desperately to Doc, but he gave her just the slightest shake of his head. At that point, she couldn’t hold back the grief she had battled through all these sad, weary days, and she sobbed.
Oh, Al, how can I ever make it without you?”

He smiled wanly.
Because you’re strong, kid, you’re a survivor. You haven’t come all this way to die of smallpox in some spot that will soon be a ghost town ... promise me one thing, kid.”

Oh, anything, Al!” She held on to his feverish hand, willing him to live.

Al looked up at her, trying to tell her how much he cared for her, but he couldn’t put it into words. She had been the only light in his worthless, pointless existence.
When I’m gone, will you come once in a while to the graveyard and put wildflowers on my grave? You know, the ones that remind me of your perfume? Bury me in a high spot so I can hear the breeze singing through the trees and maybe I’ll think it’s your voice.”