Final Resting Place by Jonathan F. Putnam

Author:Jonathan F. Putnam
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books

CHAPTER 23

When I began to wake, the world was dark. As I lay in a semiconscious state, I realized gradually that I was in my own bed. I used my left hand to feel its mate and discovered a heavy bandage wrapped around my injured thumb. At least it was still attached. Slowly, I began to push myself up into a sitting position.

“He’s awake!” came my sister’s voice.

In an instant, Martha and Lincoln were above me. Martha was holding a flickering candle in her hand.

“Did we win?” I asked weakly.

“You behaved very badly,” said my sister. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you conscious again, but still—you behaved very badly.”

“He behaved like a loyal friend,” said Lincoln, “though perhaps some perspective was called for.”

“I didn’t have a plan for what to do after I’d completed our loop,” I said. “And I didn’t think about Douglas’s teeth. Or about his confederates.”

“That lack of foresight is the one thing I fault you for,” said Lincoln with a lopsided grin. “Anyone who’s witnessed any Western fighting—and I know you’ve seen your share—should have realized a well-timed and well-executed thumb bite is the one surefire way to make your opponent lose his grip.”

I laughed.

“It’s not funny,” protested my sister. “You could have gotten seriously hurt. And Stephen … Stephen didn’t deserve that.”

“What he said was outrageous,” I said. I tried sitting up completely, but a sharp pain flashed through my head and I lowered myself down again.

“I deserved every word,” Lincoln said quietly.

“No, you didn’t!” I shouted, feeling indignant enough for the both of us.

“Yes, I did,” replied Lincoln. I could see in the candlelight that the skin around his eyes was drawn tight. “Every word he said was true. Or close enough, anyway. I’m not sure which of us was most humiliated by today, but it wasn’t Douglas.” He paused. “If it wasn’t so near election day I’d withdraw from my race.”

“You cannot be serious! You can’t let that little man intimidate you.”

Lincoln sighed. “The thing is, he spoke a truth. I have been running from certain aspects of my past. I suppose the long view is that Douglas did me a favor. From now on I needn’t worry, for I have nothing left to hide.”

“But … but…” I was flummoxed.

“Lie still, Joshua,” commanded Martha. “You’re not well. You need to rest. Deserving or not, Stephen shouldn’t have bitten you. You’re lucky you still have your thumb.”

I put my head back on my pillow and took several slow breaths. “I’ll go back to sleep,” I said, “once both of you finally admit I’ve been right about Douglas all along.”

“What do you mean?”

“Douglas is the one who’s been tormenting Lincoln. Following us on our walk, writing threatening notes, authoring the S.G. letters for the newspaper. What more proof do we need than the debate today? Which, more than likely, means he’s the one who killed Early. Everyone in town saw today he’s capable of violence. And now, to top it all off, he’s prosecuting Truett.

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