An Outlaw's Silence (manxman)(second story in The Crane Gang series)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Zachariah had long ago lost track of time. He'd been sitting at Wyatt's beside for countless hours, leaving only when nature demanded it.

Craig and Eleanor had delivered food to him but he'd done little more than pick at meals. When he was tired, he merely sat in the chair and rested his head beside Wyatt's on the pillow.

He desperately wished for nothing more than to see Wyatt's dark eyes looking back at him.

"You look like hell," Pete's voice drew Zachariah's attention and his head whipped round toward the sound.

Pete was pale and clearly weak but he offered a smile. "How long have I been out?"

Zachariah simply shrugged because he had no idea how long it had been. "Hells bells!" Gilliam exclaimed, stepping into the room. "You're awake!"

Zachariah swore that ten years disappeared from the man's face as he smiled happily at the sight of his best friend. Pete nodded. "I reckon you were right. I'm too dumb to die."

Gilled filled a glass with water from a beside pitcher and helped Pete take a long swallow. "This is one time I'm glad you're brain addled," he admitted.

Pete chuckled and winced as he lay his hand over his bandaged side. "Me too."

Pete's gaze returned to Zachariah before falling on Wyatt. "How is he?"

"He's gonna be fine," Zachariah answered before Gill, who seemed a bit less hopeful, could speak.

"Of course he is," Pete agreed. "Wyatt's tougher than all of us. And he wouldn't leave us alone to fend for ourselves. He's too protective for that."

Gilliam smiled. "I still remember the day I met Wyatt. Woke up in Craig's tent with that shotgun of his pressed against my cheek. I believe I pissed my pants fifteen times that morning."

Pete sighed. "I thought for sure he'd take that pretty smile of yours away from us forever."

Zachariah's heart twisted They were talking about Wyatt as if he were gone—reminiscing as if the man was never coming back.

With a heavy sigh, Zachariah slowly stood, cursing the aches and pains in his neglected joints.

"How long have I been out?" Pete asked Gill.

"Two days," Gill replied.

"Has anyone sent word to Jane?" Pete demanded.

"No," Gill replied, shaking his head with enthusiasm. "We knew she was under enough stress and worry being so far along with the baby and we didn't want her knowing you were shot up and unconscious. Knowing Jane, she would have loaded up and headed straight here."

Pete's eyes widened, brimming with terror. "Hell! You better send her word now. She'll be fired-up and mad as a wet settin' hen when she finds out y'all kept her in the dark. You better make sure she knows it wasn't my doing."

"You sound scared," Zachariah noted.

"Of Jane?" Pete snorted. "You're damn right I'm scared."

Zachariah sighed. "I'll tell Jeb to send her word," he promised. "And I'll let everyone know you're awake."

"Get a bath while you're out and a change of clothes wouldn't hurt either. You look worse than me and I'm the one who ate lead."

Zachariah ignored Pete's goading. He stooped low and pressed a tender kiss to Wyatt's cool brow before leaving the room.

Jebidiah was easy enough to find as he stood on the front porch staring out at the pond. "Pete's awake," Zachariah stated. "And he wants you to send word to Jane."

Jeb nodded and Zachariah could see the relief in his expression Then Jeb's eyes clouded once again. "Wyatt?"

Zachariah looked away. "I'm heading down the road to get a bath and a change of clothes. Do you want me to send the message to Jane?"

Jeb rubbed at his neck. "Yeah, I'd appreciate it. And Zachariah..?"

Zachariah raised a brow and glanced at the other man. "Yeah?"

"Sorry I was so hard on you before. I don't always use good sense when I'm worried."

Zachariah squinted into the sun as he stepped off the porch and kept his back to Jebidiah. "I don't need apologies or explanations." He swallowed hard. "I just need that man in there to wake up."

Without giving Jebidiah time to respond, Zachariah pulled his hat down low and strode away.

***

Wyatt felt as if he were trapped in quicksand. No matter how desperately he fought to break free from its iron grip and open his eyes, the muck kept pulling him right back in.

Was Pete okay?

Had Eleanor survived unharmed?

Zachariah......

That one word served as a lightning rod through Wyatt's senses. Suddenly the world began to come into focus. The first thing Wyatt noticed was the hardness of the bed he lay upon. He was cold and the sheets were rough and scratchy against his bare torso.

Then came pain. His shoulder burned and his chest ached with every breath he drew in.

Voices filled his ears as his hearing returned. "The doctor said he hasn't woken up by now then he probably won't." Wyatt recognized Jebidiah's tired voice. But who was Jeb talking about? Pete?

"Damn...." Gill muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "It just ain't right. Wyatt is too good a man to die like this."

"Who's gonna talk to Zachariah about what the doctor said?" Pete spoke up. "That man is gonna blow up like a lit stick of dynamite in a mineshaft."

Wyatt's eyes fluttered open. He saw his family standing at Pete's bedside. No one was looking his way and Wyatt lacked the energy it would take to alert them of his consciousness.

"Where's Craig?" Gill asked.

"Probably out drinking. He's not taking things well." Jeb's voice was filled with so much sorrow it stole Wyatt's breath. "None of us are."

"I thought I could save him," Pete muttered. "I should have saved him."

Gill shook his head and rubbed roughly at his face. "Wyatt always wanted to save everyone. Every thought he had was for someone else. He was the best damn soul and the kindest spirit I ever met."

Wyatt felt his eyes redden at the sincerity in Gill's words. Then an angry growl filled the room. "Why the hell are you talking about Wyatt like he's dead?" Zachariah demanded.

Wyatt turned his head and let his eyes drink in the sight of his tall, broad, scarred up, long-haired man towering in the doorway with his shoulders thrown back, his fists clenched and his gray eyes flashing with temper.

Gill held up his hands. "Zachariah, none of us want it to be true but the doctor said...."

"I don't give a two-headed rat's ass what that doctor said," Zachariah countered. "Wyatt is going to be just fine."

"What makes you so sure of that?" Jeb whispered sadly. "It's been three days and he hasn't shown any signs of waking up."

Zachariah's gray eyes landed on Wyatt and Wyatt felt his lips curve in a bright smile. Zachariah appeared unsteady a moment and one hand reached out to grip the door facing tightly.

"Because, he's awake and smiling at me right now."