When Smoke awakened from his troubled sleep, he realized he was holding both his arms out in front of him. It was dark in the little house, the only light being the soft, silver splash of moonlight, spilling in through the window. He could hear the soft breathing of Sally from the bed, and Tamara from her cot.
He got up from the settee and walked quietly over to the bed. Reaching down, he put the back of his hand on Sally’s forehead. Where it had been hot for the last three days, it was now cool. Her fever had broken and the infection was stopped.
“You’re going to live,” Smoke said aloud. “Nicole was right. You are going to live.”
“Hmm?” Sally stirred, then woke up. Her face and eyes gleamed in the moonlight. She smiled. “Smoke”—she held up her hand—“what a pleasant surprise. Have you been here long?”
“Not too long,” Smoke replied. “How do you feel?”
“I feel fine.” She touched the wound. “Ha. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
“Good.”
“Smoke, tomorrow, I would like to go back to Sugarloaf.”
“We’ll see what the doctor says.”
“Let me reword that. Tomorrow, I am going back to Sugarloaf.”
Smoke laughed. “With that attitude, I’m pretty sure you will.”
Sally looked up at Smoke. “Were you thinking about Nicole?”
“What?” Smoke asked, startled by the question.
“Nicole was killed. I know how you grieved over her. Were you afraid that was going to happen to you again?”
“I gave it some thought,” Smoke admitted.
“You needn’t have worried,” Sally said. “Nicole came to visit me. She told me that everything was going to be all right.”
“What do you mean Nicole came to visit you?”
“She was here tonight. I was talking to her, just before you woke me up. Oh.” Sally chuckled. “I guess what I meant to say was I dreamed about her tonight. You loved her very much, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but ...”
Sally held up her hand. “You don’t need any buts. She was your wife. Don’t you know that your capacity to love is one of the things I love most about you?”
Smoke picked up Sally’s hand and kissed it.
She giggled. “There you go again, kissing my hand like I’m some grand dame in the queen’s court. You can do better than that.”
Smoke leaned down and kissed her full on the mouth.
A telegram brought Pearlie over from Big Rock. Doctor Gunther had given Sally permission to go home, provided she not be jostled about too much. When Pearlie arrived he was driving a grand carriage.
“Hello, Miss Sally.” Pearlie smiled down at her from the driver’s seat of the carriage.
“Hello, Pearlie.” Sally took in the carriage with a sweep of her hand. “My, what an elegant carriage! Wherever did you get such a thing?”
“Ain’t she a beaut, though? The seats inside is all red velvet, and if you get cold, well all you got to do is close the windows. This belongs to the governor.”
“The governor?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Pearlie said proudly. “The governor had the carriage brought to Big Rock, ’cause he wanted Elmer Baker to touch up the gold trim for him.” Pearlie pointed to the side of the coach. “He done a real good job, too, didn’t he? Look at how that gold is shinin’.”
At that moment, one of the doors opened, and Dr. Colton—the doctor from Big Rock—stepped down.
“Dr. Colton!” Sally said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I got a telegram from Smoke,” Dr. Colton replied. “He told me you were coming home today, and asked if I didn’t think it would be a pretty good idea if I came along to ride back with you.”
Sally looked at her husband. “Smoke, you know I’m fine. Why did you bother him like that?”
“Believe me, Sally, it is no bother,” Dr. Colton replied. “I consider it an honor. In fact, Louis Longmont thought about closing his saloon and coming over with me.”
“Oh, well I’m glad he didn’t do that. Otherwise, I would have every beer drinker in Big Rock angry with me.”
