"Could be. You never know where they'll hide…and wait."
Doc grimaced as Brandon did when he began to apply the salve. "Like the livery stable," he said, disgusted. "Got a new partner coming to Hobart tomorrow. I need to ride over and meet him. I'd intended to bring the buggy – but I'm halfway there."
"Spend the night here, Doc," Allie put in. "You can borrow our buckboard if you want – not as fancy as your buggy, but you're welcome to use it."
Doc shook his head. "No. We'll rent one there, Allie. You need to lay low for awhile." He looked over his shoulder at her. "And so does the boy."
"But – school—"
"He'd never tell you this, but I've seen those older boys bullying him – especially Jimmy Smith. Why, with you shootin' Arnie's kneecap off, Jimmy'll make fast hash of Jay."
Allie didn't reply. She hadn't thought of that. Stupid. How could she not have considered it? She moved away slowly. "Do you need anything, Doc? I'll go change Jay's bedding for you. He'll want to sleep on the settee."
"And you? Where will you sleep?" Doc turned a narrowed gaze on her. "You look worn out."
"Here," Brandon whispered, his eyes closing. "With me."
Suddenly, it seemed as natural as if they'd done it for years – the only solution. Allie nodded, her gaze resting on Brandon. "Yes. In case he needs me." She smiled at Doc's owlish stare. "We're old friends, Doc. Very old friends. It'll be fine."
****
When Allie left the room to settle Jay in for the night, the doctor turned a keen eye on Brandon.
Brandon recognized that look. He was about to hear something he didn't want to hear. He figured, in spite of the doctor's earlier praise, it had to do with his mangled hand.
"Brandon—" Doc broke off and let his breath go on a long sigh.
"Spit it out, Doc," Brandon muttered. "My hand?" He was in no mood for games. Someone was pounding on his head with a hammer from inside, and his body continued to absorb the effects of the beating he'd taken. Every square inch of him ached, and there was no position he could find that would ease it, no matter how he shifted in the bed. Best to just hear the truth, plain out, and be done with it.
Doc nodded slowly. "Your hand, yes. I'll be honest. I don't know if I could've done any better by you than Allie has. She pieced your hand back together just as it should have been. But, I'm not sure it's going to matter. There's…a lot of damage."
Brandon's heart raced. From the expression Doc Wilkins wore, he was leaning more toward the thought that it wouldn't heal properly rather than that it would. He closed his eyes again for an instant.
"I'm sorry, son. I'll do everything in my power to help you regain full use of your hand, but it's not going to be easy. And," he added, "it may not be in time."
Brandon gave a disgusted snort. "I figured that. Hell, yesterday wouldn't be 'in time'. Those bastards will be out here to finish off what they started soon enough, I guess. Or try."
"Well, Arnie won't be with them. That son of a bitch will be laid up for a good while. I conveniently ran out of my laudanum supply when he asked for a bottle, too. Let him suffer a little. Might do him good." Doc gave a short chuckle.
Serious once more, he cocked his head. "No, what I'm thinking is Tom Carver and Abe Johnson might head out here. Now, I may be way out of kilter here, but it's just a thought. Then again, without their leader, they may do nothing for a few days. You're…gonna need to be careful, son."
At that, Brandon grinned faintly. "Thanks for the advice, Doc."
The older man began to place the items back into his medical bag. His smile was grim. "I bet you're just wishing I'd told you that this morning, aren't you?" He shook his grizzled head. "Never dreamed Arnie'd try to pull something like that. So stupid."
Brandon grimaced. "I walked into it."
Doc laid a fatherly hand on Brandon's upper arm. "You walked out of it, too."
"Had a little help in that, Doc."
Doc laughed. "I don't mind buyin' that rifle one bit, either, as a thank you gift to Allie for what she did. Never did like Arnie Smith. Tom Carver, well, his daddy was just trash. Looks like the acorn didn't fall far from the tree." He latched the bag and set it on the floor beside the nightstand. "Yes sir, I'd've give a lot to have seen that. Allie with that rifle aimed at Arnie and him just pushin' one step too far." This time, his laugh was gleeful. "The whole town's talking about it."