Bighorn Gold by Art Isberg & 9780719828812

Author:Art Isberg & 9780719828812 [Isberg, Art]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780719828812
Publisher: Robert Hale Fiction
Published: 2023-01-18T00:00:00+00:00

Later that evening, after businesses had closed and locked their doors and coal oil lamps were out, only the saloons and gambling parlours up and down the street showed any sight or sound of men who didn’t care what time it was. Doctor Caldwell’s house at the far end of town stood dark and quiet. The doctor and his wife, Ophelia, were already asleep. Down the hall in his room, R.T. Sturgis steeled himself against the pain, slowly pulling himself up, inch by inch, and stuffing pillows behind his back for support so he could sit up in bed. Cleary’s visit troubled him. The last thing he needed now was military people poking around. He took in a long, deep breath, trying to relax and think all this over. Far down the street he could hear the tiny sounds of laughter and a piano playing as revellers took on another night. Moments later he heard another sound that made him sit back up, listening closer. It was the whisper of someone’s clothes brushing up against the wooden clapboard siding right outside. He stopped breathing. There it was again, causing the hair on the back of his neck to tingle with fear. R.T.’s hand reached for the drawer in the nightstand. Quietly opening it, he slowly pulled out his pistol, the only personal thing found on him when he crawled out of the mountains. The big iron was heavy in his weakened hands. It took both hands just to cock the hammer full back as he shifted in the bed to face the partially opened window across the room. Suddenly, the black shadow of a man filled the window frame. Pulling up the sash with one hand while holding a six-gun in the other, the assassin started to lean through the window. Sturgis’s trembling hands levelled his pistol with both hands, firing one thundering shot. The blinding flash of gunpowder briefly lit the room, the recoil of the pistol spinning the weapon from his hands, before everything went dark again. R.T. fell back on the bed yelling for help.

Down the hall, Caldwell and his wife sat straight up in bed. He fumbled for the lamp on the table next to the bed. Finding it, he got it lit. ‘You stay here while I go see what happened!’ he ordered Ophelia. ‘Lock the door until I get back.’

‘But Nelson . . . you don’t even have a gun for protection. Don’t leave this room until help comes. There’s no telling what you might find in there!’

‘I can’t wait for help. I’ve got to see if Mr Sturgis is all right or not. Now just do what I say, hon. I’ll be back quick as I can.’

At R.T.’s door, Caldwell slowly twisted the handle before peeking inside. The room was dark, but he could hear Sturgis breathing heavily. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Stepping all the way in, he went to the bed helping to prop up Sturgis, who was still sitting up.

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