“No, a half hour!” Megan gasped.
“Oh for crying out loud!” Blake bellowed. “She’s half dead! Are you both crazy!”
“Go away!” Longarm grunted. “She ain’t dead yet!”
The doctor gave them a good cussing, but neither Longarm or Megan heard him because they were both moaning and thrusting, each lost in his or her explosion of sweet passion.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” Dr. Blake said later when Longarm went downstairs to the lobby and summoned him back upstairs. “Good God, man, have you lost your senses!”
“For a while we both did,” Longarm admitted.
“Marshal Long, do you realize how much blood she lost and what would happen if that shoulder opened up again!” Blake was actually furious, as Longarm knew he had every right to be.
“We were very, very careful,” Longarm explained.
“Careful isn’t good enough,” the doctor barked as he went into their hotel room, fire in his eyes and whiskey in his gut. “Young woman, if this … this monster has …”
“It was all my idea,” Megan said, looking more amused than ashamed. “I seduced him, not the other way around.”
“You’re not very responsible, and you’re certainly in no physical condition to be doing that.”
“Doctor, I really think you had better stick to things medical,” Megan told him, her smile fading. “Custis makes me feel better.”
Blake looked as if he were going to have a fit. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut, sat down on the bed, and rolled back the blanket to study his bandage.
“Well?” Megan asked.
“It doesn’t appear to have reopened,” the doctor said after peeling back some tape so that he could lift the bandage up and examine the wound itself. “And I’d say that was a wonder.”
“We do wonderful things when we are both in bed,” Megan said happily.
“Megan!” Longarm snapped, trying hard to look stern.
“How is the pain?” Blake asked.
“It’s manageable.”
“I can smell whiskey on your breath.”
“I can smell whiskey on your breath too,” Megan said. “You’re such a good doctor that I wish you didn’t drink so much.”
“No lectures.”
“Why do you drink so much, Dr. Blake?”
“I drink too much because I’ve seen far too much death and carnage,” he said, opening his medical kit and reaching for some pills. “Take these for pain instead of whiskey. All right?”
“All right.”
Dr. Blake stood up. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning, and I’ll expect you to have enjoyed a very good night’s sleep.”
He shot a withering glance at Longarm. “Is that clearly understood by the both of you?”
“Yes, sir,” Longarm said.
“Yes, Doctor,” Megan replied.
“Doc?” Longarm asked.
“What?”
“If you’re leaving, would you deliver a message to the next stage headed for Carson City? I have to get a telegram sent to Denver to let them know what is going on here.”
“And asking them to send immediate assistance, I hope.”
“Yeah,” Longarm said. “That too.”
“All right. Write the message out and I’ll see that it leaves on the next stage bound for Carson City.”
Longarm quickly scribbled a note. He dug into his pockets and found three dollars. “Doc, tell the stagecoach driver or whoever it is that will deliver this message that I need a quick reply and I’ll pay him another three dollars if I get it back by tomorrow night.”
“All right.”
Dr. Blake took the message and the crumpled bills and shoved them into his pocket. Before leaving, he actually wagged a bony forefinger at Megan and Longarm saying, “A good night’s sleep, is that clear?”
“Couldn’t be clearer,” Longarm said. “And stop worrying. I’m going to have to spend the night camped next to Jack Ramey.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Longarm’s jaw dropped. “Why not?”
“The bullet that hit his right leg severed an artery. I just couldn’t get it tied off in time. Ramey went into shock and died of blood loss.”
Longarm’s hand brushed across his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Thanks for trying, Doc. I thought Ramey was going to be the key that would unlock everything. I thought he was going to give me names, facts, and figures.”
“Maybe he already did.”
Longarm blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Men often confess their deepest secrets when they’re told by a doctor that there is no hope.”
“Not men like Jack Ramey. He was a snake.”
“Even snakes love their children.”
Longarm took a step toward the doctor. “Don’t dance around with me, Doc. What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying that Jack Ramey had, as you well know, almost a thousand dollars cash. He also had a five-year-old illegitimate son that lives in Santa Fe. He gave me the kid’s name and-“
Longarm was suddenly so excited that he interrupted. “And in exchange for that name and the promise to see that his kid got the thousand dollars, he told you something.”
“Exactly.”
“Who hired him?”
The doctor was wearing a battered derby hat. He smiled and tipped it to them. “If you’re good little boys and girls tonight,” he said, “and if I can see that that young lady has had a full and restful night’s sleep, then tomorrow morning when I come by again, I’ll be happy to tell you what Jack Ramey told me.”
“You can’t do that! It’s obstruction of justice!”
“It’s obstruction of something,” the doctor said coolly as his eyes flicked to Longarm’s crotch for just a fraction of a second, “but it’s hardly justice.”
“Damn!” Longarm swore as the door banged shut in his face.
Megan took the blackmail more in stride. “It’s only six o’clock,” she said. “We’ve got hours before it’s time to go to sleep, don’t we?”
“Yes, but I hate someone holding something over me,” Longarm groused. “It’s the principle of the thing, Megan.”
“I agree,” she said, “but what can we do other than make the best of the next few hours together?”
Longarm could see the practical wisdom of her words. And with that thought in mind, he bolted the door again, then undressed and climbed back into bed with Megan.
Chapter 15
When the doctor called the next morning, Longarm and Megan were fully dressed and just finishing a huge breakfast that they had ordered to be delivered to their room.
“Well, well,” the doctor said, surveying the room and the fresh-faced couple with approval. “You look very much more rested this morning.”
“And you look fit this morning yourself,” Longarm said, noting how the doctor’s eyes were clearer and his face less puffy from the heavy drinking.
“Good, then,” the doctor said, coming over to sit beside Megan. “I’ll change the bandages now and apply some more medicinal ointments.”
He placed his hand on Megan’s brow. “No fever, which is an excellent sign that you are already on the mend.”
“I feel much better today,” Megan said. She winked at Longarm and added, “We got a very good night’s sleep.”
“So it would appear,” the doctor mumbled as he removed the bandages and studied the bullet wound. “You know, there are gifted surgeons in San Francisco who could reduce the scarring and-“
“It’s all right,” Megan said. “Custis isn’t interested in My Shoulder anyway, are you, Custis?”
Longarm blushed. Megan, he knew, was being wicked, and even a mild castigation would only provoke her to become even more outrageous.
“Custis likes the rest of me just fine.”
“That’s enough,” Longarm warned, the tips of his mustache twitching with irritation.
Dr. Blake’s examination and ministrations took only a few minutes. Satisfied that the wound was healing nicely, he finished his rebandaging and then closed his medical kit in preparation to leaving.