Part 62 (1/2)

”Matters were dicey enough without them.”

”Well, we're likely past the worst of it. Downhill won't be a problem.”

”Before tomorrow morning, we ought to be in Tombstone.”

”Not if we sit up here all day.” She let go of my hands. They fell. I gasped and flinched. She caught them by the wrists. ”I'm sorry. Lord.”

I hissed through my teeth for a spell. Then said, ”Quite all right.”

Jesse gently lifted them, reached around, and eased them down on my lap.

”Ready?” she asked.

”Take it slow and easy.”

She clucked her tongue and Saber started down the steep, narrow trail. It was easy going. All we had to do was lean back some and keep our balance, and Saber took care of the rest.

As we descended the mountainside, the sun came up, spreading its rosy glow across the desert. A glorious thing to see. And wonderful to feel its warmth after the rather chilly night.

The morning was lovely, and ever so quiet and peaceful. There seemed to be no other sounds than Saber's hoofs thudding on the trail, some birds calling out, bugs buzzing and chittering. Every so often, I heard the quiet chh-chh, chh-chh-chh chh-chh, chh-chh-chh of rattlers. Though they unsettled me some, they sounded far off, and I didn't let them ruin how good I felt to be riding down that trail with Jesse in front of me, her hair all agleam in the sunlight. of rattlers. Though they unsettled me some, they sounded far off, and I didn't let them ruin how good I felt to be riding down that trail with Jesse in front of me, her hair all agleam in the sunlight.

Sore and stiff as I was, I did feel good. It was the fresh, new morning. It was being with Jesse. It was knowing that my hunt for Whittle was over.

Jack the Ripper would never harm another poor soul.

Jesse and I had the world before us, all splendid and bright. After Tombstone, after recovering, we would be free to go on about our lives together. Of course, I would ask for her hand in marriage. More than likely, she'd accept. Maybe she'd even stoop to wearing a gown for the wedding, and I wouldn't need to get shot again before seeing her in another dress.

We weren't a great distance from the foot of the mountain, and I was busy entertaining myself with thoughts of having Jesse for my wife, when Saber bellowed out a frightful scream and reared up. I flew back till the rope stopped me. Jesse cried out. Though jerked so roughly I feared her spine might snap, she stayed in the saddle. I hung from her as Saber scurried backward on his hind legs, staggered and stepped off the trail. Squealing, forelegs kicking at the sky, he dropped into s.p.a.ce.

”No!” Jesse yelled.

She leaped sideways, hurling us both off Saber's back, no doubt hoping we might land on the trail.

But we fell short. The slope struck us. Down it we tumbled. It was frightfully steep. It flipped us this way and that, all the while drubbing us with its rocky wall. Tethered together, we crashed against each other as we rolled. My weight pounded Jesse against the mountain. The back of her head clubbed my brow and cheeks and nose. Over and over we went.

As we plummeted, I somehow hugged her to me and clung to her with what little strength I possessed in my feeble arms.

On we tumbled, skidding and rolling, battered by rocks, torn now and again by brambles as we crashed through them, only to be gouged and hammered by more rocks.

Then we went off a ledge.

I was on top of Jesse as we plunged straight down. I twisted myself about in hopes of turning us over so that I might be first to crash against whatever might wait for us below. But I failed. All too soon, we slammed the earth, Jesse's body saving me from the brunt of the impact. My face hit the back of her head. Darkness swallowed me.

When I regained my senses, I found myself sprawled on Jesse's back. I raised my throbbing head. A mat of her hair lifted with it, glued by blood to my face. It peeled away as I looked about.

We had come to rest at the foot of the mountain. Saber lay nearby, dead, a buzzard plunging its beak into his vitals.

Was Jesse also dead?

I spoke her name, my voice dry and rough. She didn't respond.

My arms were trapped beneath her, one hand flat against her belly, the other higher. With it, I felt the rope that bound us together. And her skin. Her skin was sticky with blood. I lay very still, all my thoughts on that hand, hoping to detect the throb of Jesse's heartbeat.

I felt nothing.

Perhaps my hand was too low, too far from her heart. Or perhaps it was so ruined by my many injuries as to be rendered incapable of finding so small a throb.

I tried to move my hand higher. All I gained for the effort was a burst of pain from my gunshot and battered shoulder.

”Jesse!” I gasped. ”Jesse, wake up! Please!”

She didn't answer. She didn't stir at all.

”You're not dead!” I blurted. ”You're not!”

At that, I quite lost my wits. I bucked and thrashed until my arms came out from under her, and kept at it. Finally, I managed to turn myself over. I lay there, gasping and whimpering, the sunlight blazing in my eyes, my back to Jesse's back.

I sat up, straining against the rope. Jesse came up with me. Lunging forward, I got to my knees. Then to my feet, quickly ducking low and bouncing till I jarred Jesse higher on my back.

I commenced to walk. Stagger, actually.

A few steps toward Saber. I needed a canteen. The buzzard flapped off. But I turned away. How could I fetch a canteen? How, with arms all but useless? How, with Jesse hung on my back?

So I stumbled past Saber, and found the trail.

The trail would lead us...where? Somewhere. Away. Where we could rest and get better.

On and on, I trudged.

Jesse's head wobbled against the side of my neck. Her arms hung behind mine, and all four swayed like the limbs of a lifeless beast. Her legs swayed, too. I couldn't see them, but often felt the heels of her boots b.u.mp against the backs of my legs.

I liked the feel of that.

The b.u.mp of her boots. As if she was alive and giving me playful kicks.

On and on, we made our way together down the trail.

Now and then, I fell to my knees. But I always made it back onto my feet again, and struggled onward.

Near sundown, we came upon a covered wagon stopped by the side of the trail.

I couldn't make it that far.

My face met the dust.