Double The Bounty

“Have a good evening,” the man said, and continued on his way.

“We gonna wait until morning?” Brent asked.

“Hell, no.”

They rode up to the next block and located the doctor’s office. Brian helped Brent off his horse and to the front door, and then knocked firmly but quietly until a light came on inside.

“What in the blazes—” the man said, opening his door. He was gray-haired, of medium height, and in his fifties. “What the hell are you knocking on my door at this time of night for?”

Brian had thought of several explanations, but the doctor seemed so irate he decided to do it the easy way.

He drew his gun and pointed it at the doctor’s nose. It was the sight of the two identical men as much as the gun that kept him silent.

“Inside, Doc,” he said. “You got a patient.”

The doctor lived alone, which was good. They wouldn’t have to deal with a wife and children.

He led them to his examining room, where Brian instructed him to help Brent off with his shirt.

“You gonna tell me how to take the bullet out, too?” the doctor asked.

“No, you’re gonna do that one all by yourself, Doc—and if I see you slip even a little, you’ll be dead long before my brother is.”

“Young man,” the doctor said, discarding Brent’s bloody shirt, “my job is saving lives, not taking them, no matter whose.”

“Keep that in mind, Doc.”

“My name is Petrie, Dr. Petrie.”

“I don’t care what your name is, just get that bullet out of my brother’s side and patch him up good. We’ve got to get moving.”

“Obviously you’re on the run,” Petrie said, examining Brent’s wound.

“Stop talking, Doc, unless it has to do with my brother’s wound.”

“It was a small bullet, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Brent said, grunting as the doctor probed and prodded.

“Still,” Petrie said, straightening up, “after I’ve removed it he really shouldn’t ride.”

Brent looked at Brian and shook his head.

“How long should he stay put?”

“Any period of time would be helpful, but I wouldn’t want him Tomove for at least a week.”

“Forget it,” Brent said. “Get the bullet out and patch me up, Doc. We’re leaving tonight.”

“No,” Brian said.

“Whataya mean, no?” Brent asked.

“We’ll spend the night here.”

“You can’t stay here,” Petrie said.

Brian raised his gun and said, “This gun says I can stay anywhere I want.”

“You have a point. I’ll need my instruments.”

“Get them.”

“And some hot water.”

“Get that, too. I’ll just tag along.”

The doctor said to Brent, “Don’t move from that table.”

Brian followed the doctor to another room, where he filled a pot with water and set it to boil. When the water was hot, he picked up his instrument bag from a corner and looked expectantly at Brian.

“What?”

“I’ll need that water.”

“You want me to carry it?”

“You’d have to put the gun down to do that, but if you’re afraid of me—”

“You’re not that dumb, Doc,” Brian said, holstering the gun. “If you make a move I’ll scald you with this water.”

“I understand.”

They went back to the examining room where Brent sat slumped on the table.

“How you doing?” Brian asked.

“I feel pretty weak.”

“It’s natural that he would,” the doctor explained. “He’s lost a lot of blood. Put the water down here.” Brian obeyed. “Lie down, young man, and we’ll get that bullet out.”

While he worked, he talked to Brent, as if trying to keep his mind off the pain.

“I’ve never seen such a perfect set of identical twins,” he said. “Usually even the most identical ones have something to distinguish them. I can’t find anything at all that would help me tell you apart.”

“Ahhh,” Brent said, and his head slumped to one side.

“Doc?” Brian shouted.

“Relax, your brother has passed out. It’s just as well.”

“He better be all right.”

“He’s fine,” Petrie said, and then added triumphantly, “and here’s the bullet!”

He held it up to show Brian and then dropped it into the basin. He wet a cloth with alcohol and cleansed the wound and the area, then applied a bandage.

“He can rest there for a while.”

“We’ll keep an eye on him.”

“There’s no need, really, I assure you,” the doctor said. “He’ll be fine, as long as he doesn’t get a fever.”

“We’ll stay here and watch him,” Brian said. “I got nowhere else to go.”

The doctor sighed, pulled a straight-backed chair over, sat down, and promptly went to sleep.

Chapter XXVI

After they’d made camp, Felicia cooked dinner—she would have refused Rebecca’s help even if the older woman had offered it—and Decker took care of the horses. When the food was ready, Rebecca accepted hers with a nod of her head and carried it away from the fire.

“Guess she’s too good to eat with us tonight,” Felicia said, handing Decker a plate of bacon and beans.

“She’s got a lot to deal with,” Decker said.

“Why are you making excuses for her?”

“She lost her brother, Felicia, and she’s out here in the middle of nowhere, totally out of her element. I think deep down inside she’s sorry she came.”

“Why doesn’t she go back, then?”

“She’s committed to this now. To come this far and not go through with it would be to admit she made a mistake and wasted a lot of time. Also, she’d probably feel like she was betraying her brother’s memory.”

They sat and ate in silence for a while, and then Felicia said, “You like her, don’t you?”

Decker didn’t answer immediately, then said, “I like some things about her. Her dedication to her brother, her spunk—”

“The way she looks.”

“She is beautiful.”

“I knew it!” Felicia said, putting her plate in her lap. “If she came over and offered to sleep with you, you wouldn’t turn her away, would you?”

Decker considered that question carefully. Maybe Felicia needed a lesson.

“As a matter of fact, I probably wouldn’t,” he said, “but then she’s older than you are.”