She smiled and it hit her again that he had missed so much.
She said, “Yes. You know in this area the snow never stays, so it should be gone tomorrow.”
“I know,” he said. “I like the climate around here better than any place in Colorado Territory. What month is it?”
“December. You just missed Christmas,” she said. “A new year starts in just two days.”
Annabelle got dressed and then came up to Joshua, saying, “I have to go to my café and check on things, collect my receipts, and deposit money in the bank. Will you be okay?”
“Yes, ma'am,” he said.
Annabelle returned two hours later and saw that Strongheart was in bed sleeping soundly.
She went to the table and saw something lying there. It was a small package, wrapped in old newspaper, and there was red yarn tied around it and into a bow. A small folded piece of paper was attached to the bow and she looked at it.
It read, “Merry Christmas. Thanks for all you do and for being you. Joshua.”
She opened the package and inside was a rolled-up piece of her good paper with some script written on it. Attached was an eagle feather with the base wrapped in colored beads.
The note read, “My dearest Annabelle, I have had no way to shop for you for Christmas, so all I have to offer is my undying gratitude and affection and some words from William Shakespeare. Your most humble servant, Joshua
Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.
William Shakespeare,
Hamlet
, Act II, Scene II”
She sat there with tears once again tumbling from her eyes, staring into the bedroom yet seeing only his legs and feet.
She shook her head, whispering to herself, “What an amazing man!”
Strongheart asked if he could try sitting at the table for dinner, and afterward, when they both were drinking coffee, Annabelle excused herself. She returned from the fruit cellar and carried a wrapped package herself.
Smiling, she handed it to Joshua, saying softly, “Merry Christmas.”
He said, “Annabelle, you have done enough already.”
He opened the package slowly, and she bit her lower lip in nervousness and anticipation. Joshua looked down into the wrapping paper and smiled broadly.
She said, “I have been working out Gabriel a couple of times each week and noticed you do not have one.”
Joshua said, “Thank you very much. I have needed one. That is really thoughtful.”
He lifted up a braided thirty-foot leather lariat.
She said, “I hope you like it. I was going to get a rope one, but I thought you might like this better.”
“Better?” Strongheart said. “Annabelle, do you know how many men would love a braided leather lasso? This is much stronger and lasts longer than rope. Thank you very much.”
He was very impressed. A lasso was one thing Strongheart had been lacking, and he'd known he needed one, but he'd always been so busy he never remembered to buy one.
The riata, lariat, or lasso was one of the cowboy's most important tools. Besides being used for the obvious, lassoing cows or horses, it had a whole myriad of other uses. It could become a clothesline, the main ridgepole for a tent, an aid to climbing, the tie to lash items on a travois or to make a travois, an emergency bridle and reins, a frame for a hammock, a repair tool for harness or wagons, a snare for large predators, a pull for large items that needed to be moved, a splint for broken legs or arms, the binding to tie up outlaws, and many other things.
“I can't wait to see Gabe. Thanks for riding him,” Joshua said.
“He is a wonderful horse,” she replied, “the best I have ever ridden on. His gaits are so comfortable. I curry him and brush him down all the time.”
“Oh no,” Joshua said. “He's going to hate me when he sees me.”
She giggled, as this really tickled her fancy.
Strongheart said, “Annabelle, I have seen that you have that old army cot in the corner you have been sleeping on, and I sleep in your feather bed. I am doing better. Why don't I sleep on the cot?”
She started laughing, “Because your legs and arms and shoulders would hang out all over the place. Besides, you have not even been able to go outside yet, Joshua. You are doing better and getting stronger, but we have a ways to go.”
“Annabelle,” he said, “why are you doing this for me? Nobody deserves this kind of treatment.”
“You do,” she said without hesitation, embarrassing herself again. “Joshua Strongheart, how can you say that? You spent months and almost died keeping a promise to me, over a ring, a simple little ring.”
“It is not the ring,” Strongheart said, getting serious. “I want all men and women to always know that my words are iron. If a man says he will stand in the rain, he should get wet. If a man says he can fly, he should jump from a cliff and fly to his death keeping his word. I did nothing. I only kept my word. That is what all men should do.”
“You did nothing? Ha ha.” She laughed. “Joshua, you are indeed a real man and there are none any more. We have politicians in Washington who tell people lies about the men from the other party and make hollow promises just to get elected. These are our leaders. Men do not really risk their lives to keep their word, except you.”
The next day, she made sure he had been fed and checked his wounds, which were now healing very well, and with his reassurance all would be well, she went to the restaurant. That is what Joshua had been waiting for. He made his way to the door and went outside. The snow was gone and the sun was out, so the day in the semi-arid climate was nice, especially in the direct sunshine. He made his way to the woodpile and grabbed a piece of firewood, then another, and another. He still had his muscles, so it did not seem that he would overburden himself with any amount of logs. He carried them inside and stacked them near the fireplace. So far, so good. Strongheart headed back out the door. He carried four loads of firewood inside, then had to sit down in the rocker and rest. He fell asleep and had a nice nap for an hour.
Annabelle came home before dark, carrying a meal for him from the restaurant, but he was asleep in the bed. Annabelle walked into the other room and saw all the firewood he had stacked, and she smiled, shaking her head.
She went into the bedroom and decided to check his wounds to make sure he had not torn anything open. As she pulled back the sheet and started to touch his rippled abdomen, his right hand shot down and grabbed her wrist like a vise. As his eyes opened, he let loose immediately, saying, “Sorry. I guess I am getting my reflexes back.”
Their faces were inches apart, and she did not speak. She wanted him to kiss her so badly and sweep her into his arms.
He had never wanted a woman so much in his life, but this was no dance hall chippy. This was the woman he had fallen in love with. Joshua felt so conflicted. Her husband had now been dead just over a year. That was not a long time. He wanted to taste those soft lips. He wanted to hold her.
They stared for awkward moments, and he finally smiled backed, lifted his head up a little, and said, “Do I smell some delicious food?”
She said, “I brought you dinner from the restaurant. It's still hot. Do you want to eat?”
“Yes, ma'am,” he said, getting out of bed.
They went into the other room and sat at the table. As she had already gotten used to, he held her chair as she sat down. They talked well into the night, and he really slept well.
The next day he was sore from the previous day's exertion, but he was not as sore as he'd expected to be. He would add some more exercise this day.
Two days later, Dr. Greenfield showed up. Jewish, he had graying black hair, a pleasant smile, and was short, with a bit of a paunch. Joshua liked him.
After introductions, Strongheart said, “Dr. Greenfield, I just do not know how I can possibly thank you. You saved my life. If it were not for you, I would be in Greenwood Cemetery right now.”
Dr. Greenfield nodded at Annabelle, saying, “She is who you should thank. This young lady would not give up on you, and everybody else did. She stayed with you day in and day out, watching over you like a meadowlark watching her nest. She would speak to you and act like you were awake. Best nurse I have ever seen.”
Joshua smiled at Annabelle, and she blushed and turned her back to find busywork.
Greenfield examined Joshua and said, “So you have started doing things, huh?”
Joshua said, “Yes, Doc, a little each day.”
The doctor said, “Well, several months ago, I would not have believed it, but your wounds seem to have healed. You lost lots of blood, but I do not think you will hurt yourself with exercise. You need that, sunshine, and food.”
He turned to Annabelle, saying, “Young lady, I would get lynched by the good people of Canon City if I tried to get you to give up your café, but if you ever want to be a full-time nurse, I have got plenty of work for you.”
He smiled and left.
In the days ahead, Annabelle kept the food pouring into Joshua, and he kept adding more vigorous exercise. By the following week, he was able to saddle Gabriel and Annabelle's horse, and they took a short ride together. He had been practicing his quick draw each day behind her house, too, including bringing the Winchester to bear fast. They started going to the hot springs, and he would soak there each day.
Once Strongheart started gaining his strength back, it came back quickly, though he still would get winded and sometimes a little light-headed.
Spring was coming on, and there was a real dry and warm spell, which was very common to Canon City. Annabelle and Joshua had eaten dinner and were outside working in her garden, when he suddenly stopped and said, “Can we go in and talk?”
They went inside, washed up, and sat down.
Joshua said, “When you spoke to me all the time, you said many things, didn't you?”
She said, “Yes. Why?”
Strongheart said, “Even though I was in a deep sleep, I am sure I heard you several times.”
She said, “I am so glad.”
Joshua said, “I have always wondered, and it has bothered me since. Did you say to me not to leave, that you loved me?”
Annabelle said, “I uh, I am embarrassed.”
“I'm sorry,” he said. “I should not have asked.”
“No,” she answered. “I always want us to be honest with each other. I loved my husband, Joshua, and I tried not to fall in love with you, but I did. I could not help myself at all. You are too wonderful.”
He swept her into his arms and kissed her softly but passionately. She pushed against him, and then he held her at arm's length and took several deep breaths.
Strongheart said, “Annabelle, I have been in love with you since the very first time I saw you on the stage.”
“Oh, Joshua,” she cooed.
He put his hand up.
“Hear me out,” he said. “Tomorrow, I am moving maybe into a hotel. You are a widow, and I have healed a great deal and am much stronger. I do not want your neighbors to gossip about you.”
She started to argue, but what he said made sense. She did have a business, but she also wanted him so much. She had dreamed so many nights of lying against him, her head on that massive chest.
“Joshua,” she said, “sometimes I could hardly contain myself. I want you so badly. I want to be held by you, not for a moment but for all time.”
He said, “You have no idea how difficult it has been for me to be around you. Each day, I have grown more deeply in love with you. But your husband has been gone less than two years. I want you to make sure it is love and not an end to loneliness. I also have to feel right inside. Even though I never knew your husband, I do not want to feel like I have betrayed him. I cannot explain that.”
She said, “I understand.”
12
The Evil That Men Do
At the west end of Canon City the road to the river began with a large curve called Soda Point. It was near the hot springs and just past the territorial prison. That point rose up to become an eight-hundred-foot-high rocky ridgeline, very steep on both sides, referred to as Razor Ridge. It consisted of Precambrian rock formations as well as Dakota sandstone, and it ran parallel to much of the west side of Canon City. It was
the
vantage point to reconnoiter anyone and anything in Canon City, and that was exactly where Harlance McMahon had made his hideout and lookout for several days.
After the shoot-out in Florence, the word about Joshua Strongheart's incredible skills, tenacity, and raw courage had spread far and wide. At the same time, the word had also been spread that Harlance McMahon ran in the beginning of the fight and abandoned his own gang.
He could not go anywhere without hearing whispers and snickers behind his back. His own cowardice had totally backfired on him.
One thing that Joshua had learned long ago was a simple principle: The one problem with being one of the Joshua Stronghearts in the world was that some of those who just cannot measure up, or who refuse to try, end up hating you.
To aggravate that, Harlance was totally ashamed of himself. Even though he was afraid to live as an honest citizen giving a hard day's work for a full day's wages, he had never taken water before in a fight. He had even had a couple stand-up gunfights. Now he had completely turned tail, run out on his own men. It made him crazy. . . . literally.
So, thinking in the manner of an outlaw, which is to say ignorantly and outside the norms of logical behavior, Harlance had come up with a plan. He would get back at Strongheart by attacking what he saw as the man's Achilles' heel. And that would be Annabelle Ebert. He would kidnap her, knowing Strongheart would pursue them to the ends of the earth. In Harlance's mind it was quite simple. He would set a trap for Strongheart and bushwhack him. He knew it was risky, because this was the West, not back east. Good women were scarce, so even outlaws protected them. Harlance did not care if what he planned to do was right or not. His only concern was whether or not he could get away with it. He would have to be rough to abduct the woman, but he decided he would be very careful about how he touched her and treated her, just in case he got caught. Although, again with the convoluted thinking of an outlaw, he decided that after he killed Strongheart, he would have to kill the woman, too, as a witness. And if he got that far with her, he would first have all the fun he wanted and then kill her.