Gold Dust Widow: The Story of an Outlaw's Revenge

Chapter 32: Jasper

I groaned, rolling over onto my side, my eyelids heavy.

Pain suddenly radiated through my body in waves. I gasped, doubling over as my body shuddered, bile rising in my throat. Waves of pain and numbness washed through me, making my head spin.

I felt my body falling forwards, my hands blindly searching for something to hold onto. My fingers gripped onto wood and I held myself still, my head spinning.

The strong smell of antiseptics reached me and I cracked my eyes open. A new wave of nausea rushed over me as the blinding light of day seemed to rip through my brain.

I gasped again, swearing. My throat felt as dry as sand, and just as cracked. I peered around myself.

It became clear to me that I was in some sort of doctor's office; a large wooden cabinet held draws labelled with the same medicines my father had kept. I was half sitting on a bed, the wooden frame smooth under my white-knuckled grip. A large window next to me revealed a dark day, heavy clouds hanging in the sky, snowflakes drifting down slowly, coating the outside streets in white.

I heard a noise and my head spun wildly as I searched for its source. Through my fuzzy gaze, a woman's body appeared, I realised she was speaking, but her words were too muffled for me still.

She stepped closer, and I searched her face for a pair of cornflower blue eyes, but I was met with a warm honey-coloured gaze. The woman was smiling at me, her face very young, and her excitement palpable.

I heard myself groan as she gently pushed me back down on the bed. I fell back, unable to hold myself up.

"Careful now mister," her muffled voice reached me.

"Where-" I croaked, grimacing in pain from speaking. "Where is she?"

The girl was leaning over me, her small fingers dabbing my sweaty face.

"Ya gotta calm down now, mister. Ya don't wanna open yer wound again," she was warning me.

I felt my fingers wrapping around her wrist, stopping her from touching me. Her surprised gaze snapped to mine.

"Where is she?" I ground out.

She pursed her lips and pulled herself easily from my grasp, my fingers too weak to hold her.

"She's gone, mister."

My mind spun. "Clara," I pushed. "Where is Clara?"

"I told ya, mister. She left."

"Where?" I barked.

The girl shrugged. I could feel rage coursing through me, pushing through the pain. I suddenly wanted to shake the girl. I found myself pulling myself up, reaching for her.

"Calm down, Marshal," a deep voice cut through my mind. I looked behind the girl to see a man walking into the room. He was well dressed, his beard trimmed and combed. He placed his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Run along now, Grace. I told you not to hover over him," he scolded. She made a face and then ran off.

I grimaced, my strength leaving me again as I slipped back down onto the bed.

The man who I assumed was the doctor stared down at me. "I didn't think we'd ever get to meet," he admitted. "You were a goner there for a few days. When the fever caught you, I thought for sure I needed to call the priest."

I grunted in response. The man placed his hand on my forehead. "The fever broke last night. I'll not make any promises, but I'd say you'll be able to walk out of here."

"Where am I?"

"Colorado, Silverton."

"How long have I been here?"