Forty Times a Killer by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2014-04-08T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY

Doctor’s Orders

We rode into Abilene through a blue dawn and the town was sound asleep. All the dust and drama of the night before had been laid to rest with the rising of the sun. Like Mr. Stoker’s vampires, Wild Bill and the rest of the sporting crowd were abed behind shades and would not rise again until the sun began its scarlet descent to the horizon.

When we reached the doctor’s house, Wes lifted me from the saddle and carried me inside without effort, as though his arms cradled a child.

Doctor John Henderson, a young man with black hair and earnest brown eyes, directed Wes to sit me on the edge of the examination table.

Wes handed the physician my leg brace. “This is his. It gave him a sore”—he pointed to the top of his thigh—“right there.”

Doc Henderson’s nurse was middle-aged and not pretty. She had one of those tight, prim mouths you see on women who exist on a diet of prune juice and scripture. Her eyes were small, blue, and intolerant. She snatched the brace out of Wes’s hand. “Please be seated in the waiting room.”

Then it was lecture time. “The carrying of firearms is not permitted in Abilene.”

“So I’ve been told,” Wes said. “Doc, holler when you need me.”

After Wes stepped out of the room, the doctor examined me. “How long have you had this?”

I nodded at the brace. “Off and on, as long as I’ve been wearing that.”

“For the time being, we’ll keep the wound wet and make sure it doesn’t get infected,” Henderson said. “Don’t wear the brace until I get this healed.” He smiled at me. “Can you do that? Will your friends find you a place to stay and help you get around?”

“Oh sure, Doc.” Of course, that was a boldfaced lie.

Without the brace, I’d have to lie in bed. Where? And who would look after me? Wes might push me around in a wheelchair for a while, but then he’d get bored, ride out of town, and leave me to my own devices.

Abilene was not a place for an impoverished, helpless cripple. Without the brace, all I’d be able to do was die of neglect and starvation.

“Just do what you can, Doc,” I said.

Doctor Henderson put various salves on the wound, one of them that smelled suspiciously of honey, and then he bandaged the wound.

Wes was called back to the surgery and the doc said, “Your friend will need plenty of bed rest and help getting around.”

“What about his brace?” Wes asked.

“He can’t wear it until his wound heals,” Henderson said.

“Can he ride?”

“No. I’m afraid not.”

“Just as far as Texas,” Wes said.

The doctor smiled. “Not as far as the edge of town.”

To say that Wes looked unhappy is an understatement. It was obvious that taking care of an invalid didn’t enter into his thinking.

“He’s not even kin,” he said.

That comment raked across my heart like a knife blade. It hurt a sight worse than my leg.

“I’m sure you will help,” the doctor said.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.