The Healer's Touch by Anne Tolar

Nathan Jackson, the healer of the group of seven men who protected the small town of Four Corners, Arizona, was asleep in the far corner of the mid-street saloon. No problem there, except that was the last place Vin Tanner, the hunter, and Buck Wilmington, the ladies' man, had left him the night before. It was the same place Nathan had been for dinner... which he didn't eat. His right foot was still in the chair opposite him. He didn't seem to have moved one inch... not at all.

Ezra Standish, the nattily dressed gambler, was sitting at a table across the room from Nathan, totaling his winning from the previous night and preparing for bed.

"What's he still doing here, Ezra? He get called out to patch some drunk last night?" Vin propped his buckskin covered self against the bar and just looked at the sleeper.

"No," the gambler offered, "he has not moved one inch since you boys left him last evening. He went to sleep right there where he currently abides, grouchy as the proverbial bear. For my own comfort and safety, I left him entirely alone.

"Well, wake up, Pard." Vin took the empty chair at Nathan's table. "You allergic to sleeping in a bed all of a sudden? Or are you getting tired of climbing those long stairs to your place. Didn't think you had more than one beer last night. You go on a bender after we left ya?"

"Now, Vin" Wilmington liked to poke fun, harrass, and cause mischief for all of his fellow protectors. He was a simply a fun-loving, woman chasing, wiseacre... and everybody liked him... until it was their turn to be the butt of the joke. "You know good ole Nathan here don't drink like that... not near like us, no how.

The teaser reached out and slapped Nathan's boot from the chair, appropriating it for his own place to sit down.

Nathan gasped as his boot hit to floor, jarring his leg all the way up to the hip. "Buck!!! Dog-gone-it!!! AWH!!!"

"Whoa, Pard!" Vin sat forward, "What's going on here?"

"Nothing! Oh-h-h-h!" Nathan, a big, strong, African American, seemed to pale as he tried to stop the pain.

"Gotta be something... your head?"

"NO! Leave me alone!!"

"Your shoulder?" Vin reached across and shook his arm.

"NO!"

"Something further south?" Buck patted his stomach and then slapped his knee.

"AWH!!! Leave me the hell alone, Buck!"

Vin realized that this was a more serious matter if Nathan Jackson was cursing, especially this early in the morning, with no hangover involved.

"Come on, Pard. Exactly what's up here, Nate. Out with it!"

"Damn horse saw a shadow on the livery wall and kicked the stew out of my knee."

"Where?"

"Right in my knee, Vin...my RIGHT knee."

"Anything busted?"

"NO...least I don't think so."

"Best let me check it." Vin lifted the man's leg and grabbed his knee, twisting it first, then bending it.

"NO!! Vin, let me alone. I'm fine."

"Okay then, Pard. Come on. Buck 'n me will get you to your place... see what we can do fer it."

"NO!!!"

"No?" Buck sat amazed. "No? What do you mean, no??

"No means N - O. Just want to sit here and get some rest. Had it comfortable 'til you had to go drop it."

"Looked comfortable to me. Look comfortable to you, Vin?"

"Look just a tad comfortable."

"About as comfortable as a man sleeping with a mad porcupine, boys."

"Leave me alone. Buck, shut up and let me rest."

"We ain't arguing with you, Nathan. It's your place or Widow Wilson's. Which is it. I think you remember dropping me in her tender care when I near busted my foot. You remember her daily doctoring don't ya?"

"What doctoring... she took care of you just fine, Vin."

"Oh, I remember the Widow. She had him huntin a way out of there by the end of day one. You remember, she tied you down! Didn't she, Vin."

"Only way she was gonna keep me there. Hell, her and her dang daily rituals... told Chris to either shoot her or shoot me. One of us needed a little bit of a change."

"Rituals? What rituals?"

"Oh, you know. She believed in clean... clean out... clean in!"

"How well I remember, Mr. Tanner. Nathan left me in her care once too. Left me there while he rode to Ridge City to visit that girl... Mandy, I believe. Oh, the degradation of it all... ice cold, bare bottomed sponge baths, large doses of castor oil... each and every day."

"Thought my guts were gonna turn inside out... and the only thing she'd feed me was liver! Damn. And she weren't no cook, neither."

"Left me open to the fresh air to dry with the fresh air being provided by a wide-open window. I would imagine Mr. Jackson, being a medical man, would approve of her ministrations."

"Now, I would think so... wouldn't you, Vin."

"Seems reasonable. After all, we did promise to make sure he got to enjoy her healing powers someday soon... now didn't we?"

"I would agree that now is the time, Mr. Tanner. I'll just step onto the boardwalk out front and ask Mr. Dunne to go tell the Widow Wilson to expect him. J.D. is on the boardwalk this very moment... Oh, J.D.!!!" Ezra made a big show of walking toward the door.

"MY PLACE!!! MY PLACE!!! I'll take my place."

"A most reasonable choice, Mr. Jackson. Gentlemen, I will gather the rest of the boys and we will see the Mr. Jackson reaches his somewhat more comfortable abode in no time."

In a matter of moments, six men were escorting and carrying their friend up the two long flights of stairs to his room above the livery. The healer was NOT happy.

"Josiah, you bang my leg into that hand rail one more time... make my knee tilt..."

Josiah Sanchez, the groups spiritual leader, remembered Nathan's previous ministrations, too. "At least you're not having to hop up 'em like you made me, my brother, and our friend Buck is pushing you... not dragging, as he did me. You have much to be thankful for. In other words, SHUT UP!"

Chris Larabee, their leader, who was leading the procession with Nathan's boots in hand, remembered the last few times he woke up in Nathan's room from some wound or ailment, couldn't resist one observation. "Nathan, I suggest you don't make any of us real mad -- we've all got our own scores to settle with you. Your tender lovin' care ain't ever been the least bit tender."

"Well, you just all remember... it's just my leg. I will be up real soon... and I will remember. Next time one of you boys needs my help... you'll get my whole healing touch."

"Boys," Buck got quiet for a minute. "Boys. On second thought, I suggest we treat him real, real kind."

They dropped him, none too gently, on his bed and Josiah made short work of ridding Nathan of his pants, Ezra got his shirt, and Vin started on his underpants.

"HERE! Ain't no need for that!"

"How we gonna check that knee if we can't see it, Nathan?"

"Ain't no need... I've checked it!"

"Okay... you checked it, pard. How could you see it? What do we do about it?"

"You leave me in the saloon with it all propped up, and you get a little ice to go on it, Vin. That's what you DO."

"Well, son" Buck simply shrugged, "since we done undone that... what's next?"

"Prop it up... get some ice... heat some water... get some towels over there. One time hot... one time cold... rotate it every little bit... ought to take the swelling down."

"All right, my son," Josiah attempted to salve the man's pride, "we'll take divine care of our ailing friend. Nathan, your job is to stay put, don't try to get up, and don't mess with us. How long, in your opinion, will the healing take?"

"Probably two... maybe three days to get up on it... if you boys do it right."

"Days?"

"Vin... that's why I was at the saloon. Didn't figure you boys would want any part of this."

"No problem, my brother. It is a good lesson in humility for all of us. We'll just take turns. You'll be up and about before you know it. I'll heat the water."

"I'll go get the ice." Vin left to accomplish his chore.

"I'll deal the cards!" Ezra produced a new deck of playing cards and began to shuffle.

"See Nathan, not a bad way to spend a day." Buck settled in for the game. The two men spread the cover tight to make a card table for the game. They sat on opposite sides of the man, using his lap for a table.

"Full house, Ezra... my pot!!!" Buck slammed the table."

"AWH!!!"

"Sorry, Nathan. Didn't mean to bump your sore leg. You call the next hand."

"Buck, I don't want to play poker... I want to rest."

"Well, just deal me in, pards. Here's the ice, Josiah. How's the patient?"

"Vin, don't get comfortable," Chris caught him before he could sit, "I've got work for you to do."

""Shoot, Chris, just got back."

"Nathan, I'm leaving you to their good care. J.D., you get ready to take Pearly to Red Fork. Vin will ride with you."

"Dang, Chris. I don't need Vin. I can do it. He ain't that mean!"

"J.D... hell, okay, then. Keep his hand tied where you can see 'em. He's a lock pick, you know. Come on, I'll walk you down... help you load him up."

"Chris?" Nathan's call was plaintive, "you leaving me to them? Where are you going?"

"I'm going back to the saloon. Inez has my breakfast waiting. Then I'm going on tour since all of you seem to be taking the day off. See you this afternoon, Nathan."

"Say, Chris, bring us back some grub!"

"Get your own, boys. Only food I'm gonna tote up those stairs will be for Nathan."

"But, we're stuck here!"

"Not hardly. You're not stuck. You're just sticking around, whether Nathan needs you or not. Nathan, I wish you a whole lot of good luck."

"Okay, Nathan, my friend," Josiah smiled as he approached with a steaming hot towel, "Hot towel first, ice towel next!!"

Chris was halfway down the stairs when Nathan let out a yowl. "HOT... not BOILING... DAMN, JOSIAH! And put that pillow under.."

Chris let the argument fade as he wandered down the stairs with his youngest partner.

"J.D., let's get you going. Keep him trussed up tight, even if he says he's got to go."

"Sure, Chris."

"And remember that little trick I taught you. He might try something. Being alone... it could save you a heap of trouble."

"Right!"

They loaded the prisoner and J.D. headed out with a confident smile, while Chris wandered toward the mid-town saloon.

"Inez, you still got my breakfast?"

"Of course... but it is no longer warm."

"Don't matter. I'll eat it."

"Where have you been?"

"Watchin' Nathan get boiled alive. Glad it ain't me. Say, about mid-day, I'll stop by and get him something to eat."

"Should I send enough for the others?"

"No... I expect he'll be wanting to see a little less of them about then. Just have something waiting. They're not working. They're just talking... about cards, about food, and by now, Buck's talking about women."

Knowing the man who flirted with her so boldly, Inez just smiled, "I would expect that is very true."

The morning was quiet. Chris liked it that way. He had visited all of the establishments. He didn't talk much, just made his usual rounds, stopping for a few cheroots, tipping his hat repeatedly as he moved. The towns people were used to his quiet walk. He was working, so he was listening, not making conversation

There was only one problem. Mort Summers, a down and out hunter, was in town a week earlier than normal, and he was drunk again. If he was drunk, he was rowdy. The way to describe him wasn't really rowdy... it was mean as hell.

Chris walked into Digger Dave's saloon on the corner. "Bill, can I get a cup of coffee?"

"Sure, Chris..." but his eyes suddenly got very wide. "CHRIS... BEHIND YOU!!!"

"What?" He felt the wind as a hardwood chair missed his back and his head by mere inches. He heard Mort growl as he began his attack.

"DAMN!!" Chris was aware of bodies pushing past him as the few patrons left in the place cleared the saloon.

He was instantly on guard... circling the small, wiry man, watching for a way to get him either calmed down or tied down. The man swung the chair again.

"Bill, give me your club. He ain't gonna come easy this time."

"Here, Chris." The heavy stick of wood was quickly in Chris's grasp. "You remember, though, he carries a blade!"

"Right!" Chris circled a few times, getting the rhythm of the man's dance. He finally jabbed the end of the club through the rungs of the chair and twisted. The chair crashed to the floor. But Summer stood where he had been... reaching low for his boot.

"Mort! Put that down! PUT THAT DOWN NOW!!! You don't want to do this, Mort. Don't want me to have to SHOOT YOU, but I WILL!!!"

The man seemed to hear that part. He moved his had from the knife hilt and stood weaving. "Who're you?"

"I'm Chris, Mort. You know me... Chris Larabee. Come on now, Mort... let's just go sleep it off for a bit." Chris warily reached down and slipped the man's blade from his boot. He reached back and placed the knife on a table, "Bill... you get this thing and keep it for him. Don't give it to him unless he's sober."

"Larabee? Larabee? Did you say you're Larabee?" Summer continued to weave, but Chris heard the snarl and backed away. This wasn't the first time the two had fought.

"Yeah, Mort. It's me. Easy now... just gonna go sleep it off, okay? Nice bed at the jail... three squares... come on, now."

"Son-of-a-bitch!!" Summer charged straight into Chris's stomach, head first, then wrapped his arms around the black-clad figure and grappled with him. He was more of a challenge than he should have been, being small, but his strength seemed to rise with the level of whiskey he had consumed. Chris pulled free, turned him around, and wrapped him in his own strong arms.

"Bill, go get... ooooofffff"

Summer was roaring drunk, not ready to give up yet. After he plowed an elbow into Chris's ribs, he bent forward, making Chris grunt to keep him in his grasp. Chris reared back, pulling the man off his feet. Summers hung there kicking, cursing, twisting violently to get free.

"Bill... go... get Buck or Josiah. At Nathan's..." He stood there letting the man twist, trying to talk sense to him, knowing all the while there was no sense left in the fool.

Not long after the barkeep cleared the swinging doors... screaming Buck's name... Chris felt something bite into his arm, and realized that Summers had bitten him, clean through his shirt, hard enough to break the fabric and skin and send blood gushing down his arm and hand.

"AWH! You son-of-a-bitch! That does it!" Chris pushed the maniac from his grasp, spun him around, and just as Buck entered the saloon, Chris belted the drunk. It was a mean, clean, Larabee uppercut that knocked Summers back into Buck's arms... out cold.

"Good one there, Stud. Mort can be a real mean piece of dirt for such a little cuss. Damn, you know you're bleeding?"

"Son-of-a-bitch bit me!"

"Hell, son. You better take that to Nathan. Man-bite can be a real plague real fast."

"You get that in the jail... I'll go get this checked... Nathan awake?"

"Not when I left, but shoot... I think he was just a faking."

"Well, I'll get his lunch on the way. I imagine he's getting hungry about now."

"Not too... Mary's fed him soup."

"Poor man... should have asked her for her biscuits... not that stuff she calls soup."

"Gloria Potter's fed him her fried chicken."

"Lucked out there."

"And the Widow Wilson's fed him, too."

"Damn! Bet that made him REAL happy What'd she bring him?"

"Liver, what else?"

"Damn, that's mean."

"But Nathan likes her liver."

"Always knew there was something really strange about that man. Hell... I'll just get my own lunch."

Chris stopped at Inez's saloon again, not really noticing the blood dripping down his fingers. "Inez, can you fix me a tray of your mild ones... might as well feed the lot of 'em with your fajitas. And send a jar of your spicy stuff, too or Buck's gonna squawk."

"Madre de Dios, Chris... you are bleeding... and you are bleeding on my counter."

"Sorry. On my way to get it tended. I guess it's hit the numb before the pain part. Can you send Charley over with the food. And add a bottle of cheap rye whiskey... make it two... won't have any for my arm if the boys spot it first. Send the cheapest, meanest stuff you've got."

He walked out into the sunshine and climbed the stairs to Nathan's place. When he entered, he would have laughed if he hadn't been in Nathan's spot before. The healer's look begged him for relief and mercy. The room was filled with people, all talking, all laughing, all hunkered down for the wait. The room wasn't nearly big enough for the crowd it held, and several of the boys were sitting, or bouncing, on the man's bed.

"Chris..."

"I see it, Nathan. Lunch is coming... then they're going. Okay? Vin... soon as everybody gets a bite to eat, you all take over tour."

"Sure, Pard. Chris? You know you're bleeding?"

"Glad somebody noticed. Nathan, you up to looking at this?

The man on the bed became the healer instantly. "All you... get out. Josiah, you stay, get a lamp... Chris, need you over here in a chair so I can see. I said all of the rest of you, get out... you can eat outside."

"But bring mine and Nathan's in here first, so you don't eat it all." Chris knew what would happen to his lunch if the rest got to it first.

"And what about mine?"

"Josiah's too. Now everybody, move on out, hear! Chris, take that shirt off. Josiah, get me a pan of clean hot water and my probes!"

"Probes?" Chris back up a step.

"Got to see what's inside there. Left any old food, any of that shirt, gonna fester fast. Don't wanna lose that arm, do you?"

"No... just thought soaking it with whiskey would do it... but whatever you say."

"Don't know as I've got any whiskey... that bunch being around all morning."

"Inez is sending some."

"Good... I see you remember that knife wound."

"Yeah... remember how mean it got when I didn't tell you about it."

"Remember what I promised to do to you the next time?"

"Remembered that too."

"Get over here, then... let's get this done."

"But the food..."

"Arm, then food."

"Shoot, Nathan... arm, then food, then whiskey... or better yet, whiskey, then arm, then whiskey, then food... then whiskey."

"Any way you want... after the arm. Prop me up, Josiah. Chris, I said get that shirt off. Longer you wait, worse it's gonna get to get it free. You got the water, Josiah?"

"Got it right here!" "And it's hot... not boiling? Right." Chris remembered Nathan's yell.

"Right. Put it right in here, my brother."

"AWH!!! Josiah... you wouldn't know--"

"Shut up, Chris. Put it back down in here. It's not too hot. Josiah... hand me that large probe."

"Large?" Chris yanked his arm back out of the pan.

"Be still. Josiah... hold that lamp."

"Say, Stud?" Buck stuck his head in the room. "Charley said Inez said to bring you this. To keep the others at bay until you get the rye. They're waiting outside."

"Buck," Nathan called him inside, "Hold his arm down."

"Give me the rye first!"

Chris took a large pull on the rye. "Okay... let's finish this."

Nathan began to work, Chris's arm held in Buck's firm grip, Josiah holding the lamp. Nathan worked inch by miserable inch on the deep jagged trench in Chris's arm. The patient hissed each time the probe went deeper. Occasionally, he took a small determined sip of the whiskey.

"Give me that whiskey, Chris... you've had enough."

"Not if you're gonna do more of that, I haven't."

"Give it here, now. I don't want you falling over dead drunk and snoring in my lap. Make my leg ache again."

Nathan appropriated the bottle of rye and, pulling the raw wound wide open, poured a large portion of the contents into every raw bit of Chris's arm, letting the bloody fluid run back into the pan. "Josiah, hand me the needle and thread... soak it in some of that whiskey first."

"Damn, Nathan. Think you were Doc Simmons. You get a real good time torturing me like this?"

"I haven't got any place to go. Might as well work on you. I don't stitch it today... we can always start this over again tomorrow."

"Got to catch me first."

"Shut up, Chris. Sit still."

"Shoot, Nathan. Buck, where's the rye."

"Here, Stud. Take one long pull more before I hand it to the boys. Nathan says you've had enough."

"Let 'em get their own."

"No, Chris. Give it here. My knee will need a pull or two."

"Not 'til you stitch that nice and straight... straight!"

"Then sit still." When he had finished twenty nice neat stitches, and heard Chris curse at least twenty good times, Nathan appropriated the rye for one good sip "All done... Damn, Chris. This stuff's awful. Thought you liked the good stuff!"

"Wasn't gonna drink it, Nathan! It was for my arm, but you had to go dig it open. Became a matter of necessity... you hurtin' me like hell."

"You gonna complain all day?"

"No... well, maybe a little. Thanks, Nathan. I had Inez send you some of the fajitas... want some?"

"Sure... soon as I wrap that arm."

"Buck can wrap it... if you tell him what to do. And you and Josiah and me can eat a bite."

"You, my friends, can eat here. I'm going for fresh air and a touch of meditation." Josiah started for the door.

"Suit yourself, Josiah. But if you want any of that, you better wrestle it from the boys on your way out. Buck, J.D. get off all right?"

"J.D.? Where's J.D.? Knew I hadn't seen him. Thought he might be avoiding the sick room. He's a little squeamish since that knife in his shoulder. Under Nathan's watchful eye, Buck had started bandaging Chris's arm.

"I sent him to Red Fork to deliver Pearly. Said he could do it. Figured it was time I didn't give him any grief about it."

"Hell, Stud. He's got the brains of a grub worm. You sent him alone?"

"We tell him we trust him, Buck. Everybody else goes solo on easy stuff. Figured it was a few hours there, a night on the town, a few hours back. How bad can it get? AWH!!! Not so tight, Buck."

"It can get just as crazy as J.D."

"Buck, you just let him have his work. He ain't back tomorrow afternoon, you and Vin can go hunt him."

"Guess I can't be his pa all the time."

"I know he'd appreciate it if one of us would treat him like a full-grown."

"That meet your approval, there, Nathan?" Buck held up Chris's arm for inspection.

"Looks fine. Chris, you keep it dry... and you too. You get to drinking too much, you won't feel it burning if infection sets up."

"Not that I'd mind missing that part... but I'll behave. How about you? You need anything?"

"Come to think on it... I've been in this bed all day. I could use a little break... if you know what I mean."

"Well, Stud." Buck was on his feet, headed for the door. "I'm on tour. See ya later, Nathan."

"Buck!!! Buck, you get back here! Hell! Well, guess that leaves you and me in the sickroom by ourselves again, Nathan. Just like old times."

"Yeah... you gonna run, too?"

"Hell, no. Shoot, Nathan, ain't an inch of me you haven't seen or cleaned. Time I paid you back. Just tell me what to do."

"Just help me up. I can open my own flap. Just keep me from standing hard on this leg. There's a bucket over there I can use. Sorry." The man blushed, which amazed Chris that he could see the redness on a man whose skin was so ebony in shade. He reached down and lifted his friend to his feet.

"Sorry, Chris." Nathan blushed again.

"Hell, Nathan. I cleaned my own boy's britches many a time; cleaned up Sarah after Adam was born. Weren't any women around. I've had my own britches cleaned plenty... that you know well enough. Ain't nothing but nature... don't matter... you need it done, we'll get it done. Any of it."

"Thanks, Chris."

"No thanks needed."

"Well, can you take care of that now?" Nathan pointed to the bucket, blushing once again.

"Sure... soon as I get you comfortable." Chris eased him back onto the bed, propped his knee on a pillow, added ice and covered him. "Back in a minute."

"And wash your hands in hot water with soap... you hear?"

"Nathan... my ma tried to raise a gentleman. She didn't get one, but she tried." And Chris smiled.

"You never talk about her... one of these days you're gonna have to tell me all about her, and your pa, too."

"Maybe -- someday."

"Hard days?"

"Mostly good... bad end... not something I like to think on, okay?"

"Sure."

"Nathan?" Vin's head came through the door. "You decent?"

"Yeah," Chris answered for him. "You boys can come back... soon as one of you empties this." He placed the pail wire over Vin's hand. "Rinse it real good. Don't use that one to tote water, but bring a fresh pail of clean water in that extra one... got it?"

"Yeah... pard... thanks a whole dang bunch. Oh, Nathan, plum forgot. Can you look at Mamie Sutton's leg?"

"Vin, I just got him settled."

"She's hurtin', Chris. Says it's a big old, nasty boil that really commenced hurtin a week ago."

"So of course, she shows up now."

"Just sounds like somebody I know... shoot, six somebody's I know. Bring her in Vin. Chris, you brave enough for this?"

"Me? Hell, Nathan, I didn't say I was going to take up being a medical man. That's your job."

"Neither did I, but I can't lance this myself. You're gonna have to do it."

"What about Josiah?"

"He can prop and cook a leg. He ain't gonna make it through this."

"Ah, hell... and I will?"

"At least you'll wait 'til she leaves to puke."

That was exactly what Larabee did. Then he opened the doors and the windows to let the smell of corruption and gorge out of the confined space. "How the hell do you stand this stuff, Nathan!" He hung his head in the bucket and puked one last time. "BUCK!!!"

"Yeah, Chris. Man, it stinks in here."

"Your turn. Here, take this, dump it, rinse the bucket real good and put some green soap in there the second time through."

"Do it yourself! That's wicked!!"

"Yeah, and my stomach's smelled it enough... get going! And, Buck, you tell 'em all, unless they're DYING, no more tonight... Nathan and I are tired."

"How about a game of cards later, to get your mind off your belly. Play for pennies 'til I leave for my game tonight."

"NO, Ezra. You're on tour tonight."

"Me? It's my night for revelry, Mr. Larabee."

"I don't give a damn, Ezra. If you can talk 'em into it... you and the rest trade off... one on tour, one outside this door in case we need something... two of you can serve as backup and get a little rest. Trade every four hours... but YOU do get a turn... understand."

Chris emphasized his instructions by shoving them all out and slamming the door. "Nathan... anything you need?"

"No... nothing now."

"Need anything medicinal to ease your knee?"

"Well, come to think of it... you could hand me that bottle over there with the blue label that says Laudanum, put a little in that bottle of whiskey, and give me a couple of spoons."

"Oh, that should help just fine. Just don't you go getting hooked on the stuff like I did that time."

"Secret, Chris, is don't drink the bottle... just a couple of spoons."

"Right... fine... but, Nathan? Can I have just a touch... you know, for my arm?"

"Sure, Chris. You take a spoon or two, I'll take a spoon or two... maybe we won't care about none of this 'til morning."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"NATHAN!! NATHAN!!! NATHAN!!!"

"Mary... hush!! He's asleep... hurt most of the night. What is it?"

"Mrs. Ritter's baby's coming!"

"NOW?"

"Now!"

"This her first... might be a while."

"No, Chris. It's her tenth! And Nathan said she was going to need help with this one. He promised her he would come."

"He can't even get down the stairs... how's he going to deliver a baby?"

"Well, somebody better get him there!'

"Ah, hell... Go get everybody... I'll wake him up and you better plan on coming too. Nathan... Nathan!!! NATHAN!!!"

"WHAT! Shut up and let me sleep!"

"Nathan, Wake up! Mrs. Ritter's baby's on the way." Chris shook him harder.

"WHAT?! Chris, get me up! Clean me up! Got to GO!!!"

"Be still... the boys are coming to take you. She live in town?"

"No... bout three miles out."

"Hell, and it's the tenth? We don't move, that baby's going to be here before we get out of town! Here," he threw a wet rag into the man's face, "wash your face, put on your shirt."

"Damn, Chris. Sit me up... this leg's so stiff, I can't quite get it moving."

A curly haired, sleepy faced hunter came through the door. "Chris, what the hell is this now? Mary said something about--"

"Vin, shut up... get the wagon... saddle me up, get back here, now. We've got a baby coming."

"We? Not me!"

"Yeah, you... all of you... get a move on!"

"Whose?"

"Nathan says Missy Ritter's...shut up and MOVE! Tell Buck and Josiah..."

Two more fuzzy faces rounded the corner, Josiah the only one alert enough to talk, "Tell us what?"

"Help me get his pants on... get him down the stairs... MOVE!"

Nathan's orders came fast and furious. "Chris... get my bag... get those instruments over there... get those extra towels... Where's my hat? Josiah... when we get there--"

"Let me guess... boil water."

"Chris... you're gonna have to help!"

"Me? Mary's gonna be there... why me?"

"I'll need you both... don't think it's only one this time!"

"What?"

"Chris... I think it's two, maybe even three!"

"Ah, hell, Nathan!"

"I ain't got nothin to do with it. But at least you've delivered one once. Two, three... ain't that much difference, just need more hands."

"Mary's delivered--"

"Oh, no I haven't. I had one... I didn't deliver it!"

"She's gonna be busy too. Now we got to ride!!!

"VIN... where's that wagon!!!"

The ride out was torture on his knee, but he was exactly right. There were three.

Nathan, settled at the foot of the bed on a chair coached Chris as he brought them forth one at a time. The first, a baby girl, was breech. Nathan thought the steely gunfighter was going to faint before he learned how to turn the child inside its mother's womb as the struggling mother wailed. The others came willingly enough, to the gunfighter's immense relief.

Mary, quick as always, took each child from Chris's hands as soon as he had swatted it on its backside. Then she cleaned it, wrapped it in a blanket, and handed one to Vin, one to Buck, and one to Ezra. To Josiah fell the chore of marking each for identification. The first... little Mary... created no problem. Nathan Christopher came second, and George Washington came third. The father couldn't figure out how to work in all the other names, so he named the boy after the old president instead. Before the babies were an hour old, Josiah had ridden to find a wet nurse to help fill the needs three boisterous babies and one exhausted mother would have.

Feeling no less exhausted themselves and very proud, the little army sat on the front porch waiting for Josiah's news.

"I got to say... you all did a mighty fine job," Nathan was smiling from ear to ear. "First time I've seen more than two at one time."

"You see my boy? Now this is going to be one handsome man!! A handsome man!" Buck cooed to the bundle as he held N.C. in his arms."

"Now, Pard. That one's ugly as an old toad compared to this little girl here. She's just plum delicate as a lily... and she's got her one real purty name, too... right Mary?"

"She certainly has, Nathan!" Mary blushed and reached for her namesake, which Vin refused to surrender to her care.

Ezra simply sat quietly, holding the smallest of the three in his hands. "Such small fingers, such dexterity... thin, nimble fingers. He is going to be a talented man. I can hear the cards shuffling now."

"You wouldn't wish that on him, now would you, pard?"

"No he ain't, Vin. My namesake's going to be a medical man... a surgeon. Hear that Ezra... put those nimble fingers to good use."

"Chris... Hey, Stud, you're mighty quiet. Nathan didn't have to tell you much after that first one. Didn't know you were that much of a skilled hand with babies."

"I guess I never told you, Buck. You were gone on a little trip of your own when Sarah had Adam. Came on so sudden... no women there, no way for me to leave her to get anybody. Hell, Sarah just toughed it out. Bravest woman I ever saw. I was scared... so scared.... Thought I wouldn't do nothing right. Hell, she had to keep reassuring me! Then he was there... in my hands... screaming up at me because I swatted him. I couldn't believe I was holding him... holding my son." He was lost in memory then.

"Yeah, Chris, done mighty fine today... mighty fine... but..."

"Wanted to hear those babies draw breath, Nathan... neededed to hear them take life."

"Well next time, it's swat... not beat..." And everyone had a laugh.

"Won't be a next time, Nathan... I hope..."

"But suddenly the man rose and walked out into the yard. Alone, lost in those memories of his own wife and son, he light a cheroot and walked away.

"Maybe shouldn't have gotten the memories started up again?" Buck watched him, knowing the pain he suffered with every mention of his little lost family.

"No... does him good to remember the good, Buck, even if it does still hurt. Notice, he actually talked about it and he didn't punch anybody or throw nothing either. That's good... real good."

The oldest of the Ritter children, a boy of about fifteen, and the next, a slightly younger girl, came onto the porch with a big pot of coffee and a mountain of cups. "Pa says there's biscuits and ham and syrup on the table if you're ready." The girl added, "We can take the least ones while you eat."

"No that's just fine," Ezra nestled his bundle. "George and I will talk until Mary eats, then I'll take part in the repast. But don't you people go eat it all."

"Mister," the small girl added, "Nine kids... make that twelve kids, round this place, there's always plenty of biscuits."

"Is Mrs. Ritter awake yet?" Mary softly asked.

"Yes, ma'am. She's after getting up."

"What?" Vin stood quickly. "She can't do that! Should she, Nathan? She just had three babies... DO SOMETHING!"

"Mister, when she had Rach and Jed, she's up within the hour. Now, Pa, he's in there trying to convince her to just wait a spell... says give herself at least a couple of days. She's just not having much of it."

"Nathan, DO SOMETHING!"

"Okay... Calm down... calm down now, Vin. Buck, you help me in there. I'll see what I can do, but she's a strong woman. Ain't no mere man gonna put her to heel if her mind's made up. Mary -- a woman's touch might be just a little better."

They were gone a short while. It was Mary's touch that convinced her to at least stay put for one day.

"Nathan?" Ezra looked up a little surprised at the damp spot on his red velvet coat. "George seems to have sprung a leak!"

"I'll take him, Mister," the small girl had been standing vigil all morning, watching her youngest chicks in the hands of these strange and worrisome men.

"No, no. That will most certainly NOT be necessary. If you will instruct me on the proper way to cloth the lad, I'll be most happy to see that he is correctly attired."

"I'll be damned!" Chris walked up, smiling, happy to see the little group on the porch. He threw his nearly new cheroot into the yard when he saw N.C.'s little nose wrinkle in the smoke. "Ezra and diapers? Now, I've seen it all." He reached out for the biscuit Mary handed him, and accepted the mug of black coffee, too."

"He's just basking in the glow, Chris." Nathan laughed at the gambler's smile, "Give him until he gets presented with the other!"

"Well, pards," Vin held out his bundle. "I guess I best get a little education myself... Mary's commencing to leak, too."

"And this one, too." Buck added. "I'll be snookered! Come together, leak together. Here Chris, you started this mess... you want to take on your namesake?"

"Sure, Buck. Give him here. I'll teach you boys how it's done. Come on, N..C... let's go get dry." He scooped up the small bundle, nestling him easily in his arms and holding him warmly against his chest.

"Chris?" Mary watched his moves with near tears as she saw his tenderness with the baby."

Chris looked up from his thoughts into Mary's eyes. "Yes?"

"Did you ever diaper a little girl?"

"No... there a difference?"

"Just a little. I'll come help Vin... you can educate Ezra... use the extra education for yourself. You never know... one day it just might come in handy."

"Chris?"

"Yeah, Nathan?"

"Arm okay?"

"Haven't even looked. We've been just a little busy."

"Well, we don't need to forget about it."

"Or your knee."

"Oh, it's better... stiff but better."

"And I believe you like you believe me... right?"

"About the truth of it, I expect."

"Okay, Nathan... I hear you. Soon as these babes are dry, we'll check us both out."

About the time the three new arrivals were clean and dry, and fretfully sleeping, Josiah returned with the wet nurse. She appropriated the babies from their reluctant guards and took them inside, daring the men she did not trust to get anywhere in her way.

Chris's arm looked red, ached when it was cleaned, but hadn't festered. Mary applied the new bandage, making certain he had feelings in his fingers again.

Nathan's knee was purple and green, and the swelling hadn't gone down nearly enough. Moving him now made him miserable.

Frank Ritter came to help load Nathan into the wagon. "Well, I thank you boys, you ma'am, for all the help. Me and Missy'll never forget this day. Ain't nobody would'a ever told me my three youngsters would be birthed by no gunslingers, gamblers, and lady newswoman. Wouldn't a guessed you would have all gone to so much trouble to come to our help. You ever need anything I got, you just say."

"Frank," Chris extended the man his hand, "no thanks needed. Day we'll never forget either. Isn't too often we get to do something this worthwhile, this special, for such good people. And to get a namesake, too!" Chris mounted his black and prepared to lead his group home.

"Least we could do, Mr. Larabee."

"Kids... they're mighty special gifts. Keep us posted on how they're coming." And Chris reached down again, and with a wicked little grin on his face, whispered to Ritter, "Frank, you do know how this happens, now, don't you?"

"Why, yes sir, Mr. Larabee. Me and Missy got that part down just fine." And Ritter smiled an immense smile.

"Why Frank... I think you do at that!" Chris laughed a full-hearted laugh that shocked his whole group.

"Keep us posted on how they're coming... you'll remember, won't you?"

"Why, yes sir, Mr. Larabee... you got it."

"Frank... it's Chris."

"Why, yes sir, Chris." You men ride safe."

Chris reached down one last time and gave the man's hand a firm shake.

They rode out then, but hadn't gone far before Vin got out his harmonica and began to blow a happy tune... which Buck began to sing. Mary noted that Chris joined in, though he sang so low no one else noticed how off-key a gunslinger could be and yet seem so happy. Somewhere along the way, when they passed a stand of oaks, Mary noticed that the man bent down to the ground from his saddle, picked up a fallen limb or two and slipped them down into his rifle scabbard. She gave him a questioning glance, but he just waggled those eyebrows of his, the ones he used to tease her, and he smiled. The smile let her know that he was up to something, but he wasn't ready to admit what. He was smiling, pleased with something. As he rode forward, he began to whistle in time with Vin's tune. Mary smiled, amazed that a man who couldn't sing could whistle as cheerily as a bird.

As they approached the town of Four Corners, Buck called out "Well... see the kid didn't need no papa after all."

"Hey, J.D. Pearly in the jail house now?"

"Yeah, Buck!"

But as he rode closer, Chris could see a very large black eye shining out from under J.D.'s bowler hat. "Hit trouble there, J.D.?"

"Yeah. Ole Pearly slipped a cuff on me. Caught me in the eye."

"How long did it take you to track him down, Kid... or he go missing on you?"

"Who says I lost him, Buck?"

"Thought you said he slipped a cuff and tagged you!"

"Oh, he did. Then he tried to take off. He just didn't know I had a slip cinch on his saddle. His horse got clear, Not Pearly. Bet his butts plumb black and green all over about now. That was a sneaky idea there, Chris. Thanks!!"

"Just something I learned the hard way from Ethan Collins when I was young and in just a little bit of trouble."

"Ain't heard that one, Stud... you gonna tell us about it?"

"No, Buck... J.D., Nathan's in the back there if you want him to check that eye."

"Naw... it's fine. What's everybody doing out here anyway?"

"Delivering babies, J.D." Buck sounded a little to cocky even for J.D.

"Buck, you're always full of bull. Don't you ever give up."

"Now, wait just a DANG minute, son..."

Chris laughed, "J.D., he's actually telling you the truth... just don't get used to it."

Vin joined in taunting Buck, "And just give him a minute, kid... he'll tell you every little bit of it... over, and over, and over..."

"But just let him shut up for now... let's ride. Nathan needs to get his leg back in bed and get himself a little rest. Congratulations, J.D... good job." And Chris led them forward again.

"Well, let's ride then boys." J.D. doffed his bowler and slapped Chris's arm with it as he passed.

"DAMN, J.D.!!! Watch it."

"Somebody said you got knifed."

"I got bit, J.D. Took the knife off Mort Summers, but he used his teeth for a blade instead."

"You okay?"

"Was 'til you hit it!" Chris saw a small rivulet of blood soaking through his sleeve again. "Damn, two good shirts inside two days. Oh well, wasn't like it was in real good shape after delivering babies, anyway."

"You? What about Nathan?" Their youngest partner just stared.

"J.D., shut up. We're almost home... when we get there, Buck can tell you all the tale."

"Or Josiah! I just might decide to not be so talkative for a change."

"Sure, Buck. But not Josiah. He's got a job to do."

"Me? A job, Chris. What job?"

"Boil water... what else? Nathan's knee needs attention, and he's gonna be damned if he doesn't get to dig in this arm again. I swear, J.D., you keep that hat on your head, or I'm going to use it for target practice.

Up the stairs again, the six were toting number seven again... back to his bed. The healer wasn't happy anymore.

"Josiah!! You bang my leg into that hand rail one more time..."

"Nathan... shut up!" The six weren't too happy either... they were tired.

"You boys take him on upstairs, get that leg propped. I'll be back in a while."

"Chris! Where are you going! Get back here!! That arm--"

"I'll be back! Just gonna check on Mort, get him something to eat... see how long the judge will let me keep him. I think twenty stitches ought to cost him twenty days, myself."

"Don't forget the boiled water, pard."

"Thirty days, Vin. Sounds more like thirty days to me."

"Just don't get sidetracked... you get on back here."

"I hear you... I hear you, Nathan. J.D.?"

"Yeah, Chris."

"You feel up to taking my tour tomorrow morning?"

"Sure, Chris. You feeling sick?"

"No, just want to check my cabin... ALONE!"

"Sure, Chris... no problem."

Evening came early. Nathan scolded J.D. every time he sank a probe into Chris's raw arm. The entire time his arm soaked in the too-hot water, Chris cursed J.D. and Nathan for his misery. After resetting three broken stitches, Nathan bandaged the arm and left Chris alone. All that was left to do then was sit and listen to the others reminisce about the new souls they had helped enter the world and J.D.'s exploit with Pearly.

Then Nathan needed a little relief, so the room emptied except for Chris.

"Next time I'm down, Nathan, remind me that this is the way to make all of them git... that bunch can talk the wheels off a wobbly wagon."

"Ain't it the truth. Look, you staying put tonight?"

"Yeah... thought we'd share a little laudanum again... but soon as you've had breakfast tomorrow morning, you're on your own for a while. Got to check the cabin."

"Well, okay. Just don't let them know I'm by myself. Ezra'll go to sleep, Buck will go see Blossom. J.D.'s got your tour. Just leaves me Josiah, Vin, and the women. At least I'll get fed real good. And don't you go doing nothing to pull open that arm again."

"Won't be splitting rails. Just got a few shingles to nail down after that last wind. Don't you go hiking anywhere, or delivering any more babies."

"Deal... now pass around that rot-gut whiskey."

"Shoot, Nathan. Got us the GOOD stuff!! After today, I figured we deserved a real good toast. I just left it by the bottom of the stairs... empty your bucket... be back in a minute."

And the town of Four Corners was quiet the next morning... sleeping as sound as Nathan Jackson slept. Chris enjoyed the ride in the cool morning air and the chance to patch the cabin with no interruption. The previous days had been fine, but after all the talk, the noise of new born babies, and the yammer of Buck, Vin, J.D., and Ezra about births and bad guys, he was ready for a day of solitude and silence. After he had completed the roof repairs, he took the short walk to the creek, took a quick bare-bodied swim, then dressed, found his favorite tree and sat down with a long stick of wood, his knife, and only the sounds of the running water and singing birds for companionship.

It was dark when he reached Four Corners again. A soft light was still shining in Nathan's room, so he settled the black in the livery and climbed the stairs. He found the room surprisingly quiet, the only light the one oil lamp, the only sound Nathan's soft snores. Chris made one check for fever... and finding none, he lay his bundle near the bed and found the bottle of good stuff hidden near the window. After he had had just two sips, he settled himself for sleep on the floor.

"Who's that?" The faint dawn light was coming through the window when Nathan woke and put an end to Chris's rest as well.

"Just me, Nathan. Need anything?"

"Yeah! GET ME OUT OF THIS BED!"

"WHOA! Thought you said three days." Chris, yawning, rose from the floor, pushing the hair from his eyes.

"It is three days... GET ME UP!"

"It's the start of day three, Nathan... not the end of it. You're always threatening to hog-tie me for not staying down. It's just your turn this time." Chris dressed in his pants and shirt, and pulled on his boots.

"CHRIS! Doggone It! GET ME UP! I can walk. If you let the rest of them trap me here again today, I'll--"

"I get the point. Well, I can get you up... How are you going to stay that way?" He busied himself putting on his holster, adding his hat to his ensemble.

"Think of something myself... You GET ME UP!"

"Get yourself up, then." He started toward the door.

"Come on Chris. Just a little help to get me up?"

"Calm down... calm down... I've left you all the help you need. If you can move with it... and get to the door... I'll see you get down the stairs."

"Use what?"

"Just check the foot of the bed... I'll be waiting outside."

"CHRIS! GET BACK HERE!!! DON'T LEAVE ME IN HERE!!! CHRIS!!!

Chris listened to his friend as he started another day cursing the lot of them, until it suddenly got totally quiet. Chris just smiled to himself and waited. He heard one faint thud and wondered if Nathan had fallen off the bed in his efforts to make it on his own. About the time he had decided he'd better check, the door creaked open and Nathan stood there, totally clothed, holding to the doorframe.

"You're one mean s.o.b., Chris. Why didn't you show it to me?"

"Don't want you getting all mushy. It work?"

"Just perfect. How'd you get the length right?"

"Made it a tad long for me... figured your wrist equaled about the end of my hand."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Figured you'd need it. You being a doctor, had to figure you'd be an even worse patient than me... and being tied to one of us would make you even meaner. Thought if you were going to try to break loose, today would be the day. That should help you move around without injuring that knee. But here, sit down before you fall down. Take a few minutes to get used to that thing, then we'll go get us some breakfast."

"Good plan." Nathan sat down next to Chris and began to examine the design he saw in the wood. "What's this, Chris? Looks like two snakes. I've seen something like it before... don't remember where."

"Friend of mine... Julian Horne... had one like this. He called it a caduceus."

"Caduceus?"

"Yeah... said it was meant for a medical man... a healer... It's Greek or Latin or some such. Shoot, Nathan, I don't know... when I thought about the stick, it reminded me of all the men, including you, who've put me back together again through the years. Thought you deserved to carry one just like it."

"Real special work here, Chris."

"Oh, and I put a surprise in it, too."

"Surprise?"

Chris reached for the long stick, twisted the two upturned snake heads at the top of the handle, and watched Nathan's eyes widen as a short, extremely thin dagger emerged from the shaft of the fine oak walking cane.

"What's this?"

"For your other profession and talent, Nathan." Chris just grinned.

"What talent?"

"That's something Julian Horne's cane didn't have. Suspected it might come in handy ever so often."

"What made you think of this?"

"Well, much as we all need you for healing from time to time, Nathan, good as your healing skills are, lots of times what we need ain't got nothin' to do with your healer's touch. Time and time again, what us boys have needed to save our miserable skins has been your touch throwin' a fine little blade."

THE END