Texas Twilight (30 page)

They went in single file, as quiet as a
parade of mice. They gathered around the examination table and
Tucker backed away.

Uncle Winston tenderly touched the bandage
over his son’s chest, and for a moment squeezed his eyes closed.
“You got the bullet, then?” he asked in a strangled voice.

“Yes. But he’s weak.”

“Look!” It was Becky as she stroked her
brother’s forehead. “He’s opening his eyes.”

John pushed forward and again took Chaim’s
pulse, thankful that it appeared as strong as it was before. He
leaned closer. “Chaim can you hear me? A moment passed.
“Chaim?”

Chaim’s eyes fluttered for a moment and then
opened again slowly. He looked around at the faces of his family
standing around him and tried to smile.

“No. Don’t smile,” Becky admonished, sounding
like a little girl. “Save every ounce of energy you have for
getting better. I love you.” Her face clouded up and she had to
quickly back away. Once out of sight, she ran out of the room.

Uncle Winston took Chaim’s hand and leaned in
close to his face. “Can you hear me, son?”

Chaim’s nod was almost imperceptible, but it
was there. The family wasn’t aware that Chaim’s waking up this soon
was a good sign. And the fact that he’d responded to his father’s
question, even in such a small way, spoke volumes.

Winston looked up sharply. “He just squeezed
my hand.”

Winnie pressed forward impatiently. “Let me
talk to him.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek gently. “I
love you, Chaim. I love you.” That’s all she said as Chaim gazed up
at her. She looked as if she was going to say something else, then
stopped. “Just rest. Get stronger.” She kissed him again and let
Madeline take her spot.

She gazed down at Chaim with tears pooling in
her eyes. “I’m happy to see you, brother,” she said affectionately.
Then, teasingly: “You’re always one for stealing the attention,
aren’t you? But this time you’ve gone too far.” Her expression
wobbled and John placed his hand on the small of her back. He
feared this many visitors was wearing Chaim out.

Dustin came up and just stared at his younger
brother lying so helpless on the table. “Chaim.” The name came out
like a croak. He cleared his throat, then sniffed loudly. John
almost swore Chaim was tearing up at the sight his big brother was
making. “Chaim,” Dustin tried again, without any better result.

“I think we should let Chaim get some rest,”
John said, starting for the door. He looked at Tucker with a silent
request to stay watchful.

Emmeline inched into the room, then tiptoed
to Chaim’s side. She gazed at his ashen face, eyes closed, for
several long moments. Kissing the tip of her finger she placed it
on his forehead.

Turning, she looked at John. “Will you
forgive me?” she whispered so only he could hear.

“I’m happy for you, Emmeline. For Chaim,
too.”

Several shouts came from the alley, then a
string of curse words. Dr. Bixby went to the back door, opening it
wide. Everyone watched as the sheriff and his deputy pulled Harland
Shellston from his horse and shoved him toward the back door of the
sheriff’s office.

Sheriff Dexter looked over to the group
watching. “Got your man.”

“H
arland
Shellston?” Bixby was the first to say.

“We found him hiding out in the brush between
Rio Wells and the ranch,” Pete Miller, the deputy, responded.
“Don’t take age to pull a trigger.”

John could attest to that fact. “Did he have
a gun on him?”

“Yes.”

The boy sat sprawled on the ground, glaring
at anyone who dared to look his way. His hands were bound and his
face showed signs of a fight, with blood dripping from his nose and
his clothes were covered in dirt. As much as he hated to do it,
John would go over there after things had calmed down and see to
his scrapes and bruises. Make sure he hadn’t suffered any broken
bones.

“Go get my father,” Harland shouted
defiantly, as the deputy attempted to lift him to his feet. He
slumped down like a sack of potatoes, refusing to go into the
sheriff’s office and be locked in a jail cell. He kicked out at the
deputy viciously, connecting his boot heel to the man’s shin,
making the deputy curse in pain. Dustin pushed between his family
members crowded in the doorway watching and made a direct line for
Harland.

“Hold up, McCutcheon,” Dane bellowed. “I’ll
have no vigilantly justice in my town.” He pulled his gun and
cocked the hammer, pointing it in Dustin’s direction. Everyone in
the doorway pulled back.

“The hell you won’t. Just try and stop me
from teaching this piece of scum a lesson he’ll never forget. He
bushwhacked my brother! I aim to see him in no better condition
than Chaim, who is fighting for his life as we speak,” Dustin
shouted. When Harland saw the rage in Dustin’s eyes he turned over
and scrambled, trying to get to his feet. Instead, he fell and
accidentally rolled under a horse, spooking it. He was tromped on
several times before the deputy and sheriff could pull him
free.

Dustin took a step forward and the sheriff
fired off a shot that landed in front of his boots. “I meant what I
said, Dustin. Go back inside until you cool down.”

Winston came forward and grasped Dustin’s arm
at the same time Lily came

up behind John. He felt her presence before
she even spoke. “Do you think Harland Shellston could do it?” Her
voice held a certain amount of surprise and sadness rolled up
together. “He is not much more than a boy.”

John turned. Fatigue lined her face, but
still she managed a smile for him. Everyone else’s attention was on
the commotion outside, so John took the opportunity to take Lily by
the hand and lead her back toward the table. He’d done his part for
Chaim. Now Sheriff Dane could do his part controlling Dustin. John
didn’t have the strength, or volition, to try to do it himself.
“Don’t know about Harland. I guess anyone is capable of anything
they allow themselves to justify in their mind. From what Charity
says he’s pretty used to getting his own way.”

She nodded but didn’t move away from him.

“You were amazing, Lily.” Her face blushed in
pleasure and she glanced away. “I mean it. I was shaken to the core
when I saw Chaim so close to death. I don’t know if I’d been able
to do what I did without your support.”

Their moment was gone as everyone filed back
around the table, taking seats. Dustin leaned against the drain
board, his expression one of great distress as his gaze sought out
Lily’s.

Charity watched John excuse himself from
Lily’s side and go into the other room to be with Chaim, closing
the door behind him. Trouble was brewing. She’d seen it coming for
weeks. Even without John saying anything, she could tell he had
feelings for Lily. The way he watched out for her wellbeing, the
many visits he made to her shop, and mostly, the way his gaze
always sought out Lily’s first. Charity was actually a little
shocked that he hadn’t figured it out sooner.

To confuse the matter even more, Emmeline and
Chaim seemed to be warming up to each other. Then there was Dustin
and Lily…. With all this craziness going on, Charity sort of wished
she was back at The Heart of the Mountains. At least there she was
certain of who loved who. With a deep sigh, she realized the only
rollercoaster relationship back in Montana was Brandon and her. The
thought of Brandon made her heart sick and she glanced out the
window longingly. When was he coming back? Perhaps he’d changed his
mind and had gone back to Y Knot already, happy to be rid of her?
After the stunt she’d pulled, she wouldn’t blame him in the
least.

“You really need to get out of those wet
clothes before you get sick.” Deep in thought, Charity hadn’t heard
Lily’s approach. “Emmeline, too. Come over to my place and you can
borrow something.”

“I’d appreciate that.” They both looked over
to where Emmeline sat next to Aunt Winnie and Becky. Her eyes were
red from crying and she was in a daze. “I’ll go with you and then
bring something back over here for Emmeline. She doesn’t look like
she’s going to go anywhere.”

They turned to go but Dustin met them at the
door. “Going to your shop?”

“Yes. I have to check on my aunt and also get
Charity and Emmeline some dry clothes.”

He nodded. “With everything that’s happened
I’m not going to be taking the livestock to Sweetwater after all.
I’ll come by later. After Chaim—” His voice broke and he had to
look away.

Lily reached out and touched his arm. “Chaim
is going to be fine. He just needs a little time.”

Upstairs, Lily peeked in at her aunt, who was
still asleep. Tonight, after she’d made Tante Harriett a light
supper, she was going to get to the bottom of this mystery. Have
the whole thing out. Maybe it was her aunt’s fears, warranted or
not, that were keeping her from getting better, even more so than
her dependence on drugs. Lily had been trying to be careful of her
feelings, trying to protect her, not upset her. Tonight she’d set
everything aside except getting some answers. This had drawn on
long enough.

Getting back to the task at hand, she chose a
corn-yellow dress for Charity, and a light blue, skirt and blouse
for Emmeline. She found Charity in the kitchen, huddled next to her
woodstove.

Charity took the garment from her hands.
“You’re not going back over?”

“No. If Tante Harriett was feeling better I
would, but all the thunder and lightning really rattled her nerves.
I think I will stay here so she will not wake up alone.” And, Lily
thought, I’ll have some answers tonight, whether the questions
upset my aunt or not.

J
ohn sat at the
desk in the examination room with an open book in front of him.
He’d started reading about infection, and the newest treatments,
but he couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts focused. The whole
family, with the exception of Dustin, had gone to the hotel and
secured rooms for the night to allow them to be closer if there was
any change in Chaim’s condition. Worn out, all but Dustin had left
an hour ago and checked in. John promised he’d let them know the
moment there was any change. Dustin sat now close to Chaim, feet
and arms crossed, in a deep sleep.

The door squeaked open. “You want any
supper?” Bixby asked.

John stood and stretched. “No. I’m not
hungry. I’ll fix something later.” He glanced at Dustin and Chaim
and followed the old doctor into the kitchen, closing the door
behind him. Tucker sat at the table eating a bowl of soup.

John went over to the stove and took the lid
off the pot and sniffed. “What is it?”

“Beef barley. Sure you don’t want any?”

He shook his head. That sounded about as
appealing to him as week-old catfish. Too many things on his mind.
Like, where was Brandon? Or, more to the point, where he wasn’t.
He’d been gone much longer than John thought he should be, and now
with Chaim getting shot…no, he wouldn’t go there. That wasn’t a
possibility.

Then there was the jewel, or whatever it was.
It still sat in his safe and he knew nothing more about it than
when he’d put it there. Was it Harriett’s? That was a
possibility.

Now today, Harland Shellston had tried to
kill Chaim? Would he do such a thing because Charity had shamed him
in front of the other students?

And then there was Lily. Lily and Dustin. He
couldn’t forget about them even if he tried.

If he were honest, that was what was
torturing him the most. It had been a hard day with Emmeline, but
from what he could see, things had worked out and it looked as if
there was a future for her with Chaim. Now that he thought about
it, they did make an extremely compatible couple. Chaim being
lighthearted and fun and Emmeline being immature, in her incredibly
sweet way. Seriously, he couldn’t have found a better match for
either of them. But where did that leave him and Lily?

If it would have been unforgivable for him to
go forward with Emmeline, knowing his feelings for her were not
what they’d once been, was it unforgivable to never tell Lily how
he was feeling about her now? Especially knowing how Dustin
felt?

“You want to talk about it?”

Bixby stood before him. “Nothing to talk
about.”

“Suit yourself. I’m going to bed. Come get me
if there’s any significant change.”

“Will do.”

Several minutes passed before John heard loud
voices in the alley. Going to the back door and looking out the
window, he saw Norman Shellston in a heated argument with the
sheriff. Deputy Pete Miller looked on. John opened the door.

“My son said he didn’t shoot McCutcheon. That
should be proof enough for you to release him.”

“Can’t do that and you know it. He’d take
off, never to be seen again. If McCutcheon dies he’ll be tried for
murder.”

“I told you I’ve signed this paper promising
to keep him in Rio Wells, in our home.” He waved a paper in front
of the sheriff’s face.

Shellston looked over at John, refusing to go
on in front of him. “This isn’t any of your business, doctor.”

Sheriff Dane took Shellston by the arm and
was able to propel him a few feet away before Shellston violently
shook him off. They stood staring at each other for several long
moments.

“Come back tomorrow,” Sheriff Dane finally
said. “After you’ve had some time to think. Maybe then you’ll be
making a little more sense.”

“Pa. Pa, don’t leave me here.” Harland’s
voice came from within the building, hoarse from shouting and
crying.

“Go on now, Norman. He’ll be okay. If he’s
going to act like a man he better be ready to accept the
consequences.”

John closed the door and headed back to the
examination room. Something about what Shellston had just said was
rolling around in his head in a way that made him think it had some
significance. He had signed a paper for Harland? He’d signed. No,
maybe it was something about his signature…”