by Penny M
PART 5
Buck searched every mile of pasture fence Edmund had alluded to, looked behind every tree and rock he saw, inspected every patch of tall grass or ditch he came upon. He could find no sign that JD or anyone else had come this way in quite a while. The fences looked intact, but no new posts or wire had been recently erected.
The bad feeling gnawing away at Buck’s insides mixed with frustration and quickly grew into panic. The thought crossed his mind to go back to the Weavers’ place, drag Edmund out by his scrawny little neck and beat the truth right out of him. He couldn’t fathom that feeble old man intentionally hurting JD. Surely Weaver would have said something if he had witnessed an accident. Wouldn’t he?
Buck pulled up the gray and let his eyes roam over the land one more time, hoping to catch sight of something important he might have missed. Nothing. Buck removed his hat and wiped one hand through his sweat-soaked hair, his head spinning as he tried to decide what to do next. He knew he should head back to town, get the rest of the guys so they could scour every inch of land possible before dark.
"J.D.!" Buck desperately bellowed one last time. The name dissolved into the open sky like a covey of doves and Buck felt his hope take flight with it.
Buck urged his horse forward, his mind forcing him to take the side of logic, despite the pangs of guilt that tugged at his heart. Buck knew it wasn’t true, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was abandoning J.D.
The gunslinger lifted his face into the late morning sun and said a silent prayer. Please, just let him be all right.
*******
The palomino picked its way across the shale reminding Beth of why she didn’t make a habit of riding anymore. Her legs were sore from the few hours she’d been out and the rising heat sent rivulets of sweat rolling down her back. She wished she had changed into something more suitable for sitting a horse, but she hadn’t wanted to stay in the house another second.
She had left Edmund sitting there, didn’t even look around or answer his question of where she thought she was going. She really wasn’t sure either until she found herself in the barn, throwing a saddle on Thomas’ favorite gelding, ready to ride out after Mr. Wilmington and tell him Edmund had lied to him. As she tightened the cinch around the horse’s belly she knew she couldn’t do that. Suddenly she didn’t want to do anything but protect Edmund and what remained of her life with him.
Beth knew she’d surely die if her husband were taken away from her too. If he had done something awful, she’d find out on her own. Maybe even get the chance to undo it before anyone else found out. If not, then she’d still keep it to herself. Loyal to the end she thought bitterly as she lifted herself into the saddle.
Now, as she looked across the seemingly endless stretches of meadow and rocks, she realized how impossible it would be to find anyone in this kind of vastness. Beth turned her horse toward the shade of trees near the pond to give them both a brief rest. She stopped and dismounted, taking a long swig from her canteen. She knew she wasn’t ready to give up, plus she didn’t want to return home just yet, either. Her mind still swirled with emotions she wasn’t yet ready to deal with.
Edmund’s words ‘eye for an eye’ haunted her and she wondered if he’d meant them literally. If so did that mean she was searching for a body instead of a boy? Moisture formed in the corners of her eyes and she angrily brushed it away. Not now. She couldn’t give in to her tears. Not yet.
Beth led the horse to the water and knelt on her knees. She dipped her hands into the frigid liquid and splashed her face. Goosebumps formed along her back as she let the cold water drip down her dress. Refreshed, she stood up and turned around, ready to continue her search.
She gasped and her heart skipped a beat when she spotted the inert form in the grass. J.D.!
She felt the reins drop from her hand as she waded through the thick grass towards the boy. It was as though she’d been caught in the throes of a nightmare and she could barely move. Her brain screamed for her to hurry, but her limbs felt as if they were being pulled through mud.
What if he was already dead? She would have to hide the body so no one would ever find him. God, why had she come here?
She could see J.D. clearly now. He lay on his back, deathly still, his bruised face barely shaded by a clump of bushes and a half-hidden curving wall. Crumbling bricks and mortar revealed that a huge chunk of the wall had been caved in completely. Realization swelled in her chest and she almost lost her balance as the earth spun dizzily around her.
Had Edmund watched him fall in the well and not said anything? Oh, God, surely her husband hadn’t… No, she couldn’t think that way. She pushed the pendulant thought out of her mind and took another step toward the young man before another thought slammed into her skull.
What was she going to do if he was alive? She could get his friends, but then if he died there’d be too many questions that she didn’t have the answers to. No, couldn’t risk that until she found out the truth. She’d have to take care of him until he was out of danger; make sure he understood whatever happened was an accident. That’s all, just an accident.
Somewhere deep in her heart, Beth knew this was Edmund’s fault. Knew there’d probably be no way to keep it hidden forever. She also knew she might be able to talk to the judge, plead for her ailing and grieving husband as long as J.D. was alive. If he wasn’t, she knew the judge and especially the protectors of Four Corners would show no mercy on his soul. Or hers.
Her thoughts cleared and she hurried toward J.D. The boy lay sprawled awkwardly in the tall grass, his hands bloody and raw. Beth reached a trembling hand to his feverish cheek and he shivered. Beth cried out in relief. He was still alive! There was still hope for them all.
*******
It had taken Beth a good thirty minutes to rouse J.D. enough to help him to his feet and onto the back of the horse. The gelding wasn’t enormous, but she still had to maneuver the animal to the base of an incline so the boy could pull his weakened body into the saddle. She walked slowly beside him, making sure he didn’t topple off one side or the other as she slowly made her way toward home.
It was nearly evening by the time she led the horse to the back door of Thomas’ cabin. She knew Edmund would be sitting on their front porch, more than half through a bottle of rot gut, staring into the tree line and waiting for her to come home. Beth also knew Ed rarely let his eyes gaze up at their son’s place anymore, still she didn’t want to risk him seeing her with J.D. Once inside she knew the boy would be safe there; Edmund hadn’t set foot in the door since Thomas died. She’d be able to patch J.D. up, send him back to his friends and they could all forget this mess ever happened.
Beth gently tapped on J.D.’s thigh. "Come on, time to get down." Her whispering voice sounded like thunder in her own ears and she nervously glanced around to make sure she wasn’t being watched. She removed J.D.’s boot from the stirrup and he tried to slide off. The movement caused him to cough violently, his body convulsing with the effort and he lost his balance. Beth tried to steady him and ease him out of the saddle, but he was too heavy and they both hit the ground in a heap.
She grunted as she wiggled from underneath J.D., realizing she couldn’t drag him inside, but also knowing she couldn’t leave him out here. "You gotta get up, now!"
Beth knew he was terribly injured and she felt guilty being so stern with him, but she was beginning to panic. She wasn’t sure what Edmund would do if he caught her trying to undo what he’d done and she wasn’t willing to find out. "Please, I know you’re hurt, J.D., but please, just help me get you inside."
"I’ll try." The boy’s weak words were music to her ears and she quickly wrapped his arm around her shoulders and helped him to his feet. She squeezed her eyes shut from the effort and the pitiful cry that arose from J.D.’s throat as he stood upright. Beth could tell he was struggling to make it easier on her by supporting his own weight, but he couldn’t. She felt him lean heavily against her as another groan slipped past his lips.
"Shhhh, it’ll be all right, but you’ve got to be quiet." Beth summoned all the strength she could and supported J.D. through the door and to the far side of the cabin. She sat him in a chair, wanting to remove his filthy clothes before she put him on Tommy’s freshly washed sheets. Her husband would have laughed at her if he knew how clean she kept her son’s place. As though he was coming back and she didn’t want him to think she was falling down on her motherly duties. Crazy old woman Edmund would say. He was probably right, but she had to do whatever it took to get her through the day.
Beth held onto J.D. with one hand, while she turned up the kerosene lamp with the other. She quickly removed his tattered vest and shirt and unbuckled his gunbelt. He was so weak he didn’t even attempt to help, but that was ok; she’d done this more times than she cared to count. Of course it had been Edmund and he’d been drunk, not half-dead from pain and shock, but the motions were the same.
She tossed aside the dusty garments, her struggle for indifference melting as she saw the deep purple and black bruises and angry red cuts that covered his upper body. She wanted to cry. For J.D., for Edmund, for the selfishness she’d displayed in only wanting to save them both for her sake.
J.D. tried to cough, but gasped instead and pitched forward, his breath ragged and shallow. Beth knew she had to get him into bed, dirty or not, he couldn’t take much more. She let him lean into her and she lifted him on wobbly legs, barely making it the two feet to the bed in the corner. J.D. cried out as her arms gave out and she dropped him onto the mattress.
Beth tried to catch her own breath, removing his boots and swinging his legs on the bed. Another wail came from deep within his chest and she quickly tried to soothe him.
"Listen to me, J.D." She smoothed the sweaty hair from his eyes and tried to smile. "I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back."
She moved to get up, but his unsteady hand reached for her thin wrist. "Don’t leave me."
Through her tears Beth saw the pleading, fever-glazed eyes of a child and for a brief moment she saw her own son lying in that bed again. Grown, yes, but still her baby, scared and hurting and dying, oh, God, not again. Her lip trembled at the memory and she leaned in close, stroking his face. "I promise I’m gonna take care of you, I won’t let you die. Just rest now, I’ll be right back."
Beth reluctantly stood up and turned toward the door. "Thank you, ma’am."
Tears streamed down her face and she nodded without looking around. "No need to thank me, J.D." Beth pulled the door open, drawing the crisp night air deep into her lungs. "Thank you for still being alive."
*******
J.D. lay on the crisp sheets, trying to comprehend all that had happened to him in the past two days. Or was it three? His head hurt so bad he wasn’t sure of anything – except he hurt. He desperately wished he could sleep, slip away from the pain reality had forced upon him, but it was the suffering that kept him alert.
The lady, Edmund Weaver’s wife he thought, but why would he send her after him instead of getting Chris or the others to get him back to town? And where was he? He wanted Nathan, or Buck. He just longed for someone familiar that he could trust to make his pain go away. The woman was nice though and he wished she’d come back just so he wouldn’t feel so alone.
A cold shiver ran the length of his body and he wheezed and coughed as the all too familiar piercing bolt of agony shot through his chest. He could feel the dust coating his lungs and fought to draw in enough air to keep himself alive. Breathing was a struggle, but it wasn’t like he had a choice.
J.D. ground his teeth against the torment and reached for the blanket resting at his waist. He immediately released it as his tender hands touched rough wool and he sucked in a painful breath. Defeated, he let his head fall back to the pillow. God, make it stop!
He’d thought that getting out of that torture chamber had been the extent of his worries, yet as the feelings of dread continued to crowd his fevered mind, J.D. wondered if he was going to die anyway. Freezing, miserable and just as alone.
PART 6
Chris had reluctantly called a halt to the search although Buck wasn’t ready to give up yet. The thought of J.D. spending another night alone and hurt, believing in his friends to find him, tore at Buck’s soul. The distraught faces around him made him realize he wasn’t the only one who felt that way, but darkness was a formidable foe.
He could hear the others as they began to set up camp, but Buck’s eyes scanned through the faint glow of the moonlight and he wondered where the kid could be. He felt him, knew he was still alive and close. Damn it, he knew they were so close, but that only added to the overwhelmingly helplessness gnawing through his belly. He tried to imagine what could have happened, but with J.D. anything was possible. A short laugh bubbled up from his throat, but he choked it off before it turned into a sob. What if they never found him? His lip trembled with repressed emotion and he willed away the hopeless thought. Nope, they’d find him and he’d still be alive too, damn it. Losing that boy was not an option.
J.D. was his best friend, his son, his little brother and his protege all in one loyal, naïve and smart, not to mention, smart-mouthed, package. Buck wouldn’t want him any other way. The kid listened to his advice, sometimes begrudgingly, but he always listened. Pride swelled in the gunslinger’s chest when he thought of how much the boy had learned already because he’d been willing to set aside his stubbornness long enough to do that much.
Buck had known he had his work cut out for him when he’d first seen the stubborn kid. The funny hat, full of tough talk and wild dreams, determined to take on anything that came his way. He kinda reminded Buck of himself a long time ago. Well, except for that damn hat; Buck would never have been caught dead in something that goofy.
Shortly after they’d gotten back from the Seminole village, Chris asked him once if he was ‘gonna mother hen that boy to death.’ Not that Buck had any choice, the kid tagged along after him like a lost baby chick. Sure, Buck followed the kid around once in a while; had to if he didn’t want to have to get J.D. out of trouble later. He finally decided he would take it upon himself to teach the fool kid a trick or two. Good thing he did, ‘cause J.D. wouldn’t have survived more than a few days out here without somebody to keep an eye on him. Yep, ole Buck’s guidance was just what the boy needed.
Lotta good it did either one of them right now.
"Buck?"
"Yeah?" Buck slowly turned to face Chris.
"We’ll start again at first light. If he’s out here, we’ll find him."
Buck recognized the tone of his oldest friend. Knew he was trying to keep up all their hopes at what was fast becoming a hopeless situation. Thank you, Chris.
"Damn right we will." Thank goodness it was too dark for Chris to read the desperation in his eyes.
"He’s a tough kid, he’ll be all right."
"I know. It’s just, I don’t know, figure he’s gettin’ tired of waitin’ on us by now." Buck tried to make light of his concern, but he just couldn’t. "Hell, I just wanna know he’s ok."
Buck heard Chris sigh. Knew he wasn’t really trying to think of anything to say, just being supportive, willing to listen if Buck wanted to talk. They shared an understanding, a sometimes silent, yet ever present bond that could never be broken. Still Buck had never felt the same kind of kinship with anyone that he did with J.D.
"You and me been through more together than two people should ever have to. Always thought of you as the brother my momma never had." Buck turned back to look at Chris. "We never needed no words to know when to watch each others backs or when to back off."
Chris remained impassive, but Buck knew he understood.
"But, J.D." Buck closed his eyes as he searched for the right word and lowered his voice to a raspy whisper. "J.D.’s everything ."
Buck had already known for a long time that he needed J.D., much more than the boy had ever needed him and it felt good to finally confess to Chris. Even though he suspected he, along with the whole town, had known it long before he’d even admitted it to himself.
Buck let his eyes wander back toward the expanse of land they had yet to cover. The wind blew cold against the fresh tears rolling onto his cheeks and he realized how lost he felt.
*******
Beth lit the fire in Thomas’ cabin and set the lamp near J.D.’s bedside. His head tossed restlessly, his eyes closed in an uneasy sleep. She was glad exhaustion seemed to be winning over pain for the moment. She lay her palm on the boy’s flushed cheek, dismayed at the heat radiating from his weakened body.
She had gathered everything she thought she might need to bring. Clean rags, needle and thread, ointments and salves for his cuts, water and strong broth for when he was awake enough to eat. Beth wished she had some kind of painkiller, but that wasn’t something she kept handy and she certainly couldn’t send Edmund for it. She’d have to do what she could to make him comfortable until his wounds healed and she could go into town herself.
J.D. let out a fragile cry as Beth ran a wet cloth over the swollen cut on his forehead and she quickly tempered her touch. She moved the lamp closer, wrinkling her nose at the bruised and bloody mess.
"Shhhh." She whispered softly as she continued to clean the wound. He groaned and tried to turn away, but she held him steady as she worked the rag into the dried blood in his hairline. "I’m almost done, honey."
Beth rung out the cloth and finished quickly before getting up to toss out the murky water that now filled the basin. She replaced it, wondering how many times she’d have to do that before the night was through.
J.D. seemed to settle as she carefully cleaned the cuts on his chest and shoulders, smoothing in the aloe salve as she finished. None of the wounds seemed to require any stitches, thank God. She’d done that enough times in her life too. Never got used to the firm feel of flesh pushing against the needle, the pungent scent of blood or the cries that usually accompanied it.
Beth wiped the sheen of sweat from the young man’s face, delaying what she knew had to be done. She placed the basin of clear water in her lap and reached for his hand. She’d deliberately saved them for last because she knew how much pain her efforts would cause. The boy’s reaction was immediate. He cried out as soon as his hand touched the cool water and he jerked from her grasp. Beth kept the pan steady and sat it on the floor, leaning close over J.D. His eyes were wide and glazed with pain and fear. She silently chastised herself for not waking him and warning him of what she had to do.
"J.D., I’m sorry." Beth caressed his face with one hand as she spoke, trying to get through to him. "I have to take care of your hands, honey, I didn’t mean to hurt you."
J.D. sucked in a deep breath and turned his head from her as he coughed. Beth put her hand on the boy’s chest to comfort him, and felt a disturbing rattle vibrate beneath her palm. A low moan followed and he tried to curl up on his side. Now what? Not only was he busted up, only God knew how badly, but he was most definitely sicker than she’d first thought.
"J.D., listen to me." Beth pushed him onto his back again. He offered no resistance as his body sunk into the mattress and he squeezed his eyes tight. "Let me take care of your hands, now and I’ll see what I can do for that cough. Ok?"
J.D. nodded slightly as silent tears slipped out the corners of his still-closed lids. Beth wiped at the tears with her thumbs and smiled. "I’ll be careful, I promise."
Beth lowered J.D.’s hand back into the water and saw him stiffen and clinch his teeth, but he didn’t pull away this time.
"That’s a good boy."
Once the blood and grime had soaked away, Beth could see the damage. Good Lord! She felt her stomach flip at the splinters protruding out of his palm; the tips of his fingers raw from his valiant climb out of the well.
She heard J.D. whimper, then felt his arm spasm as he reacted to the excruciating agony she knew she was putting him through. Beth looked into the boy’s pain-filled face and she couldn’t control her own tears as both sympathy and relief filled her heart.
As she saw the severity of J.D.’s injuries, she suddenly knew Edmund could never have done such a thing. It was impossible to believe that a man with whom she’d built a life, a home, beared a son with, could ever do something to harm an innocent human being like this. No, it couldn’t be true, there had to be a reasonable explanation for why he lied to Mr. Wilmington. Maybe he did realize J.D. was in trouble, that was hard enough to comprehend, but she knew without a doubt that her beloved husband did not purposely hurt him.
However, she also knew the townspeople might not be as understanding if they were looking for someone to blame. J.D. hadn’t been in Four Corners all that long, but everyone around there liked him. He was an amiable kid with a sweet smile and a kind heart, always willing to help anyone who asked. She knew he’d once accidentally shot a woman during a bank robbery and the guilt nearly killed him too. Still most people in town no longer held it against him, even welcomed his presence and his place as one of the seven peacekeepers.
No, they wouldn’t understand Edmund like she did. She’d have to stick with her original plan and secretly take care of the young man until he was all right. Beth finished removing the last of the splinters from his left hand, smoothed on the salve and wrapped it carefully. J.D. lay quietly except for his labored breathing. An occasional grunt of pain escaping his lips when she touched a tender spot let her know he was still awake.
She watched him for a moment, her mind going back to when she had a boy of her own to take care of. J.D. and Thomas didn’t look anything alike; Tommy was much larger, with fiery red hair and blue eyes. Yet, she couldn’t help the comparison as she prepared another basin of water. Both were so young, so eager to be men and prove themselves; both with so much left to do, so much life left to live.
It was too late for her own son, but as long as J.D. drew breath, she vowed she would protect him. Determination renewed her strength as she settled on the other side of the bed to begin the painful process on his right hand. Beth felt a fierce wave of motherly devotion wash over her and she promised J.D.; promised herself that no matter what, she wasn’t going to lose him too.
