HONORABLE INTENTIONS

CHAPTER ONE

The doc told me once, think he was diggin' a bullet outta my shoulder at the time, can't rightly remember exactly. He explained there was somethin' in a man's blood, something powerful, somethin' he couldn't hang a name to, but was sure was there anyway. Said it might all just add up to dad-blamed mule-headedness, but whatever it was called, it's what can keep a man on his feet long past the time he shoulda been fallin' over in a dead faint.

I ain't one to take too kindly to doctors and their need to be lecturin' a man every time he turns around. So at the time I was more 'n' willin' to let his words slide right on by to a place I figured I'd never have to think about 'em again.

'Cept now, with them two Morgan brothers lying dead in Gladys Moore's front yard, and me gone all light-headed, I was startin' to recall that Doc's words, thinking maybe he was right 'bout what's in a man's blood. But I weren't of a mind to be labeling it with nothing more than what he suggested… my own foolish mule-headed stubbornness. If I'd waited for Mort, like I'd planned to, then maybe there'd be two men still walking round Laramie today. I should a listened to my gut instinct. Thought it was strange how Joe Morgan's girl just up and had a change of heart all of a sudden…'bout takin' my money. I should a knowed it was more 'n' likely a trap. Reckon deep down I did. But to tell the truth, I wanted this game the Morgans were playin' done with. Guess I got my wish.

I was just wonderin' what that dirt on the ground was gonna taste like when a hand grabbed under my arm and led me to the porch.

"You don't look so good, Mr. Harper."

No arguments there...but it sure threw me when I heard the note of concern in that particular voice.

"I'm okay, ma'am," I said, turnin' my head in her direction, hopin' the grin on my face would be enough to convince her I was telling the truth. But she knew as well as I did it was a bald-faced lie. The way my hand was throbbing, felt like it was gonna beat clean off the end of my arm.

I knew I was in trouble yesterday. Soon as I deposited young Mike on the buckboard beside Daisy and that dizzy feelin' came on real sudden like. Had to get outta there 'fore Mort cottoned on somethin' was wrong. I figured I'd try some self-doctoring back in the hotel room. But the minute I pulled my glove off to inspect the damage, I didn't hold out much hope soaking my hand in a basin of water was gonna fix all the black and blue and purple creepin' across my knuckles and up towards my wrist. Remembered a time when I turned my ankle real bad after being throwed from one of them green broke jugheads we was working for the army. Jonesy made me soak my foot in a bucket of water to get the swelling down. Seemed to work back then, thought it couldn't hurt none to try it this time. But when I clenched my hand, the pain and that clickin' noise it made let me know I was more 'n likely looking at a busted bone or two.

Now, lookin' back, I wondered what the heck I'd been thinkin' - takin' on all five of them no-goods at the livery stable on my own. But watching the way Deevy was pushing Cal around, with 'backshooter' still being flung around like it was some kinda truth… well, I let my anger get the better of me. I was itching to sink my fist into Deevy's smart mouth and shut it good and tight. The way he was begging for it, figured I didn't have no choice but to oblige. And by then, I was about ready for any kinda fight.

Maybe I shouldn't a put that glove back on before riding out this morning, but I had some kind of fool notion if I wasn't lookin' at it, it wouldn't hurt so bad. Good plan, 'cept my hand was swelled up so tight inside my glove I couldn't hardly move my fingers at all. Worse, the pain was shootin' lightning bolts clean up past my shoulder and lodgin' behind my eyeballs. Even my teeth hurt.

"You best sit, Mr. Harper." Gladys Moore put a gentle hand on my back and pushed me towards a wicker chair. The shade helped, least it eased the pounding in my head some. I sat leaning forward, elbows on knees and drew a couple of deep breaths.

"You want me to fetch ya a drink of water?"

I ran my tongue, thick and dry over lips coated with road dust. I had a thirst, that's for sure, but the way my stomach was rolling around on itself, it didn't feel like I could hold it down, so I shook my head no.

"I'll be all right, I just need a minute." I said, still tryin' to fool her- and me- I wasn't hurtin' all that bad.

"Mr Harper?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry 'bout what happened. The way I acted. I..."

I looked up at the face of the woman who only a few short hours ago would a gladly put a bullet in my back. "It's okay," I said, gritting my teeth. "I probably would a...done the same thing...in your shoes."

"You better let me fix your hand. I'll get some bandages." She turned suddenly and headed inside with that quick flowin' walk of hers.

I eased myself back against the chair, keepin' my hand tucked against my chest and let my eyes slide shut for just a few seconds. I wasn't plannin' on waiting around to be doctored. With Slim laid up I needed to get back to the ranch soon as I could. But first I had to do somethin' with them two dead Morgans. It wasn't like I could just ride off and leave 'em there for her to take care of all on her own.

When Gladys came out of the house carryin' a bowl of water, a towel and some bandages, I pushed myself out of the chair.

"Where do you think you're going?" She asked, placing the water and bandages on a side table by the chair 'fore reaching out to steady me.

"We gotta get the Morgans back to Laramie." I pulled my hat off and swiped a sleeve across my face, squinting out into the early morning sunlight, "You got a buckboard we could use, ma'am?"

"Now just how are you gonna do that, with your hand all busted up like it is?"

"I'll manage," I said, pushing away from the wall. And I really thought I might be able, feelin' a little steadier now. Leastways I didn't feel like I was going to be chewing dirt any time soon, not like before.

I walked over to where Al Morgan was crumpled on the porch, the fella Gladys Moore took out with her derringer. Lying there in a pool of his own blood, I knew he wouldn't be botherin' no-one ever again.

Didn't need to check the other one, I knew for certain Mac Morgan was carryin' a one way ticket to Boot Hill.

Out in the daylight, I saw she had a wagon sitting over by a small barn, with an old bay standing quiet in the corral and a harness slung over the top rail.

"I'd be much obliged, ma'am, if you could help me hitch up that horse…"

I wasn't sure she'd heard me at first. She just stood there, lookin' at them two dead bodies like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Gone was that sassy, fightin' attitude she seemed to be hanging on to so tight yesterday. The Morgan boys had sure knocked the wind outta her sails. There weren't no more arguing in her, neither. And I felt kinda sorry for her then. I'd felt sorry for her yesterday when she was accusin' me of back shootin' and actin' like I was somethin' nasty she'd stepped in. But now, with her gone all meek and mild, and small and sad, well...I dunno. I felt like I wanted to protect her or somethin'. But I guess I already tried that. Only thing was, she never asked for it.

She helped me hitch up the horse to the wagon, but the plain truth was she had to do most of the work. After the way she was looking at those bodies earlier I wasn't sure she'd be able to stomach handling them, but she lifted 'em with no fuss, like she'd been used to doing it every day. For her size, she sure was a lot stronger 'n she looked.

By the time we finished I was about ready to chew my hand off at the elbow and without warnin' my stomach just emptied itself of its own accord. I didn't even have time to get embarrassed when she handed me a cool, wet cloth to wipe my face.

"Thanks, ma'am," I said, then turned away to spit that dang-awful taste outta my mouth before handing her back the cloth. "I'd like that drink of water now, if you're still offerin'… "

I helped her up on the seat best I could and climbed up beside her, hopin' and prayin' I didn't have no more puke in me.

"You best let me drive, Mr. Harper. The way you gone all pale and sweaty, I ain't so sure you're gonna manage." She held out her hand like I was just gonna give the reins over. But my pride was feelin' kinda battered and bruised having just lost my breakfast all over her yard. I weren't feelin' inclined to give up what little self-respect I had left by givin' her the reins.

"Thanks all the same, ma'am, but I reckon I done my pride enough damage for one day. I ain't used to pukin' in front of women folk and it ain't a good feelin'. I'll keep the reins." And I slapped them hard against the horses' rear, just to show her I was in control.

Continued in chapter two.