Tombstone; D.H.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

That afternoon faded to evening, and none of us were settled enough to eat even though Milt graciously offered to cook. The conversations stayed superficial but I knew we all internally wondered what the coming days would look like. Allie and Virgil made it tenderly to their home so Virg could rest. Doc and I found ourselves at Morgan and Louisa's house, along with Wyatt. Aunt Mattie hadn't been seen since earlier, a habit of which was becoming familiar.

Wyatt, Morgan, and Doc sat just outside at a small wicker table on the porch. I could see each of their skewed outlines through the white sheer curtains covering the windows, heads nodding and lips moving. The sun was beginning to drift downward behind dark purple clouds, almost like a bruise against the soft sky. A thin line of orange met the horizon which would safely send the sun down below, forever solidifying the terrible events of the day. A number of times I repeated my thanks to God that we were all alive, relatively unscathed compared to the losses the Cowboys faced. 

Louisa and I were sitting on the couch, neither of us touching the now room-temperature tea I'd prepared earlier.

"I just don't know what I'm going to do." Louisa said bluntly, as though she had been holding her breath all day and was suddenly able to let it out.

"...About what?" I asked, startled, but happy that my mind wasn't still replaying every moment of the shootout. 

"About the Cowboys and my husband, I just..." She sighed, "How can we stay in a place like this?"

I stayed quiet, waiting for what else was about to come from her mouth.

"I know you and Doc want to leave Tombstone..." she trailed on, squaring her shoulders, "And that got me thinking maybe it's best if we leave too. But I'm sure Morgan wouldn't have it. They are making decent money here."

"It's understandable," I nodded, smoothing my skirt across my knees, "I've thought about talking with Wyatt, asking him what the point in staying is, other than the money." 

It was true; I had thought once or twice about asking my uncle if he'd thought about possibly leaving Tombstone with the way things were turning sour. But what was even more true was I'd been so focused on Doc and I that there was hardly room left to think of anything or anyone else. But things had clearly changed and I wasn't sure what the right thing to focus on was. 

Louisa sniffed and scooted closer to me, grasping at my hands; "If Morgan won't leave, I'll go alone, Jo. I don't even want to stay another night!" she wept softly.

Not knowing what to say, my eyes dropped to our combined hands. 

"Joanna," she breathed, releasing one hand from mine and caressing her lower belly with it. "Morgan doesn't know yet..."

I felt the chill of shock waft over the back of my neck and down into my stomach as my eyes widened; "Oh Lou, that's wonderful, really!" I put my arms around her, bringing her close, "It will all be okay."

She began to fully cry, resting her forehead against my shoulder.

I furrowed my brows, partly in worry but partly in something else resembling the simple fact that she and I had lived very different lives down to this point. I risked my life for Doc, and he I. The thought of leaving town without him would simply never cross my mind. I wanted to relate to her, to empathize completely, but could not. 

"Morgan loves you, and once you tell him you're pregnant, I'm sure he will think about things differently. When do you think you'll tell him?"

"I don't know, I don't know how." she said, her breath shaky.

"Come with me, you should rest."

I gently lead her to the bedroom and had her lie down. I sat beside her, holding her hands in mine now.

"Tell him tomorrow when you're alone, but rest now. Okay? I'll make you something to eat." 

She nodded, and I stood to leave but she caught my arm.

"I'd want you there, Jo, for the birth. Say you'll be there?" she asked with pleading eyes.

I nodded, "Of course, I will be there. Don't you worry okay?"

Just then, we heard the door open and shut, to Louisa's horror, and she began silently panicking. Her eyes were as big as dinner plates and she looked up at me.

"Just rest, it will be okay. Stay here and sleep." I squeezed her once more and left the bedroom, making sure to close the door behind me.

Morgan was standing in the kitchen, looking for something in the drawers. He quickly muttered something about Virgil and then left in one motion out the back door, saying he'd be right back.

Glad that Louisa had some time to gather herself, I made up some bread dough and left it in the bowl to rise. Afterward, I decided to join my uncles and Doc outside. As I neared the door, I caught sight of Doc's face, causing me to pause and gaze.

He sat cooly in his chair next to Wyatt. I admired how his eyes, narrowed in focus, glimmered with the last sliver of daylight beaming straight at us all from the horizon. The lips I longed for fit neatly together, except when speaking; they moved quickly and deliberately. My gaze lazily falling downward noticed his shirt collar was unbuttoned at the neck and hung loosely.

Suddenly, a scarce procession trekking down the lane toward Boot Hill Cemetery caught my eye. From the window, I watched as the Cowboys carrying their dead marched onward. The crackle and bursts of fireworks erupted overhead in a momentary red glow against the darkening sky. Their eyes shot over in our direction, letting us know without words that they'd made promises they intended to keep. 

I had been distracted by the funeral procession that when I finally realized what the contents of Doc and Wyatt's conversation were, I was taken aback. Staying hidden behind the wall just an inch from the threshold of the door, I listened;

"-it's the perfect timing for you to leave, Doc. Things are sure likely to get crazy around here. After all you've been through, I'll be damned if you lose your future to these yahoos."

Silence ensued. I held my breath, listening hard. Wyatt stood and moved to lean against the wooden fence surrounding the porch, his arms outstretched. Finally, my uncle spoke:

"I know what you're wanting to ask me. And hell, I'm not sure I'm qualified to answer, Doc, but...yes. Take her away from here, live the life you were meant to. Don't waste the do-over. But don't just make her Kate's replacement, do you understand me? Take her as your wife, and respect her like it."

Doc stood and approached Wyatt's side, casting his own gaze forward.

"That is exactly what I intend to do...It has been for some time." 

Wyatt looked over at his friend, chuckled a little, then clapped Doc on the shoulder. 

"Alright then, Doc. When you you suppose you'll be leaving?"  My uncle asked, looking to Doc. He pulled a cigar case from his shirt pocket and lit it. 

"The next train out of Tucson is in two days. I suppose then," answered Doc.

"You'll need a day to get to the station. I'd be happy to drive the two of you, to see you off..." Wyatt offered.

"We'd be grateful, Wyatt." 

I watched as Doc and my uncle shook hands then embraced as they chuckled together. I backed away from the door just in time for the two men to come inside the door, their laughing not totally ceased. 

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