“And you have kept your promise. Now, please help me get him to my bed.”
Jordy removed the sliding panel from the back of the cart. “I can hoist him under his shoulders and take most of the weight. Tess, why don’t you take his feet and, Sierra, you support his midsection? Unless somebody’s got a better idea.”
“I fear that’s the best we can do,” Tess said.
Jordy dragged Jack, gently as possible, from his nest in the cart and then the two women took their positions. It was a struggle, but soon they had Jack on the bed where the covers had already been pulled back and a man’s flannel nightshirt already lay. Thor sat at the bedside as if supervising Jack’s care and Tess entered no objection.
Sierra found herself befuddled. How could Tess have known? And how did she happen to have a man’s nightshirt? Well, she had suspected, but somehow could not accept the reality, that her grandfather occasionally shared this woman’s bed. Tess Wyman was a striking woman whose near flawless skin and grace of motion suggested a woman much younger than her Grandpa Jack’s age, but she knew that folks carried their ages differently.
Tess was unquestionably in charge now, firmly and politely issuing instructions that did not encourage disobedience. “Jordy,” she scolded, “Jack would tell you those horses have been ridden too hard. Why don’t you put them up in the pen outside the stable? There’s a tank there, but you will likely have to pump and carry water. Hay in the barn and some grain in a barrel just inside the door. It all came from the Lucky Five, so use what you need.”
Sierra could see that Jordy’s eyes were fixed on Jack and that he was reluctant to leave. Finally, he wheeled and walked out the bedroom doorway.
“Help me get him out of these filthy clothes,” Tess said. “We can’t put him in a tub, but I have a pot of hot water simmering on the woodstove. We will clean him up and see what we can do for him.”
Tess deftly peeled off Jack’s britches and undershorts while Sierra unbuttoned his shirt and tugged the sleeves from his arms and pulled it away. In moments he lay naked on the bed. Tess’s attention turned to the ballooning leg. “I have a drawer full of tea towels next to the kitchen sink and another of washrags. Would you grab a handful of each, Sierra? And then I will need the pot of water from the stove.”
Jack was moaning and writhing on the bed when Sierra returned with the waterpot and an armful of towels and washrags.
“Stay with him,” Tess said. “I have laudanum. I have to admit that works better for pain than any of my plant remedies.” She came back with a bottle of brown liquid, a teaspoon and a glass of water and set it on the lamp table.
“He has calmed some,” Sierra said.
“Good. We’ll save the laudanum for later. Let’s wash him up. You can take the upper body if you prefer.”
Sierra preferred. She wanted no part of washing her grandfather’s male parts. And she was ready to let someone else deal with the bullet wound that had become a rancid volcano of pus and fluids oozing from its depths.
While she washed Jack’s face and torso, she watched Tess out of the corners of her eyes. The older woman’s face was expressionless as she pushed Jack on his side, so she could examine the wound. She unwrapped the wound’s foul dressing, squeezing the flesh some to excise some of the slimy fluid. She washed about the wound, rebinding it with one of the tea towels. Then she moved her washrag higher, starting to wash his genitalia.
Sierra started when she heard Jack’s croaking voice. “Hey, woman, my old pizzle isn’t open for business right now.” Sierra stepped back, feeling her face flush and thankful again for her dark complexion.
Tess pulled the sheet over his lower body and moved to Jack’s side, bending over, softly kissing his cracked, parched lips. She knelt beside the bed and took his hand in hers. “You’ve still got some orneriness in you. That’s a good sign.”
“I don’t mean to complain, Tess, but I’m hurting like hell.”
“I have some laudanum.”
“Not yet. I need my head clear for a bit.”
Thor had been watching quietly and at the sound of Jack’s voice pressed in beside Tess, sticking his head over the side of the bed. Tess placed Jack’s hand on the big dog’s head.
Jack said, “I knew you’d be close by, old fella. We made it, Tess. Got here, by damn.”
“Yes, you made it, and I’m glad.”
“Will you marry me, Tess? I promised I’d be back to ask a question.”
Tess kissed him again. “Yes, my love. I will marry you.”
Jack gave the trademark crooked grin.
Tess said, “Sierra, go call Jordy. Hurry. Tell him to get here quick.”
Sierra turned and raced for the door. When she stepped out onto the porch, she looked toward the small stable and saw Jordy in the pen with a pitchfork full of hay he was tossing along the fence line for the horses. She hurried to the end of the porch and yelled, “Jordy, to the house now. Tess says ‘quick.’”
He set aside the pitchfork and scrambled over the fence. Sierra spun around and headed for the front door but stopped and froze when the mournful howling broke the late afternoon quiet of the isolated house. “No. No. Grandpa, no,” she screamed.
Jordy came bounding upon the porch. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
“He died. Grandpa Jack is dead. That’s why Thor is howling. I know it.”
Jordy took her in his arms and held her while she sobbed.
“I killed him,” she said. “If I had not come to the Lucky Five, he would be alive and getting ready to marry Miss Wyman. He asked
