Read Online Kill McAllister by Matt Chisholm - Free Book Online

her knees on the floor beside him, concern on her face.
    He looked up at her and grinned, wryly.
    â€œIf’n you’d given me that steak, I would of had the strength,” he said.
    â€œYou get back on that bed at once,” she ordered him.
    â€œCan’t get up.”
    She helped him. She put her arms around him and showed herself to be very strong. Good working stock, he told himself. Together, heaving and straining, they managed to get him back on the bed and she at once covered him with the clothes. She stood and looked down at him, hands on hips, eyes mad.
    â€œDon’t you ever try that again,” she told him. “Don’t you know you could kill yourself?”
    â€œI’ve got to get out of here,” he said.
    â€œIn couple of weeks perhaps.”
    â€œNow.”
    â€œNot while I’m looking after you.”
    He caught her by the wrist and forced her to sit on the bed beside him.
    â€œI’ll tell you what brought me here,” he said, “then you’ll change your mind. You’ll help me on my way.”
    â€œMiss Stein said you were to stay here. She pays my wages and I’ll see you stay here.”
    â€œYou hear what I have to say and you’ll think differently.”
    She tried to free herself, but he wouldn’t let her go. He told her the whole story right from the moment that Boss Harding had hired him, to the time the Jayhawkers had ridden in shooting and how Boss had died, right up to how he had met up with Forster here in town. He didn’t leave anything out, impressing the girl about how a cowman felt about getting his cows through. She cried a little over Boss and McAllister thought that showed nice feeling.
    â€œNow,” he said, “can’t you see I have to go?”
    â€œNo, I don’t. That black man, Sam, will know there’ll be more trouble. He’ll be ready for it.”
    â€œI wish I could believe that,” McAllister said. “But he’ll need help, any road.”
    â€œA lot of help one man can give him and that one man crippled as you are.”
    There was something in what she said.
    â€œBut,” he told her, “you can see I can’t stay here. I have to go to look for Sam. Christ, woman, they’re my crew.”
    â€œDon’t you blaspheme at me, Mr. McAllister. I’m not one of your dancehall girls. Now, I’m going to get you some fine broth that’ll help build up your strength.”
    She freed herself and left McAllister swearing impotently on the bed. A short while after she was back with a bowl of broth. She started spooning it into him, but he took the bowl from her and drank the contents scalding hot and demanded more. She brought more and he downed that.
    He said: “I’ll be on my feet tomorrow, that’s a promise,” and fell asleep. He was too deeply asleep to know that she leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

Chapter 8
    He dreamed of being hunted in the dark on the open prairie. There wasn’t anywhere to hide and every time a man came for him and he fired the bullets went right through him. He reckoned he was being hunted by ghosts. He woke in a sweat and found himself all tangled up in the bed clothes.
    It was dawn and the light was beginning to come in at the window.
    He assessed himself and said out loud: “I feel pretty good.”
    He got his legs over the side of the bed and there was a considerable amount of pain, but it was bearable. All the sleep he had had and the nourishment he had taken the night before, had done him some good. He stood up; the room rocked a couple of times, then steadied. He smiled with satisfaction and walked gingerly across the room. Every muscle in his body ached, but it was bearable. He pulled back the curtains, hunted around and found his longjohns on the top of the bureau. It took him a long time to climb into them, because it was almost impossible to bend his body, but he finally made it.