Robert B. Parker's The Bridge

“Bonjour,” she said.

I looked to my left toward the foot of the bed. There she was, Séraphine, standing in the doorway.

“Look who’s here,” I said.

She smiled.

“Bonjour back,” I said.

“Feeling better, I see,” she said.

“Oui,” I said.

She smiled and moved a little closer into the room.

“For some damn reason, I’m drifting in and out of sleep,” I said.

“Need your rest,” she said.

“Damn doc’s keeping me drifting,” I said. “Opiates.”

“Morpheus,” she said.

“The dreams and here,” I said, “mix.”

“I’m here,” she said.

“Yes, you are,” I said. “I can see that.”

She looked radiant in her long, pale blue dress. She slowly moved toward me.

“Matches your eyes,” I said.

She stepped close to the bed. She reached out and gently with her fingers touched the bandage around my chest.

“It’s good your heart is not on this side,” she said.

“What heart?” I said with a grin.

“A beautiful heart,” she said.

She leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m awake.”

She smiled.

“I’m not dreaming,” I said.

“I’m right here,” she said.

“Yes,” I said.

She moved a lock of hair that was hanging down in front of my eye.

“Time for a haircut,” I said.

She just looked at me and smiled warmly.

“I’ll be up soon,” I said. “Think I’m close to being ready.”

She smiled but didn’t say anything.

I looked to the window.

“Warming,” I said.

She followed my look to the window.

“Oui,” she said softly.

“That weather came on harsh,” I said.

“Oui,” she said.

“Thought March was the lion,” I said.

“Roared early,” she said.

“Damn sure did,” I said.

“It will make for a better spring,” she said.

“It will,” I said.

She took my hand and just looked at me.

“Are they setting up now,” I said, “readying the show?”

“Preparations are under way,” she said.

I laid back and looked to the ceiling. The lantern looked foggy and dim.

“Futures told,” I said.

“Oui,” she said. “Legendary adventures revealed.”

— 68 —

It was Ballard who’d shot me, and it was Virgil who’d shot Ballard. His bullet hit Ballard in the temple and killed him instantly. By the time Virgil and Chastain got me out of the icy water, Dirk had died, too. The two men I’d shot with my eight-gauge inside the tent, Leonard and Ray, were both members of the gang, so there was no one left to provide any details other than Dmitry and Big Billy. They were the only two of the outlaws to survive the shoot-out at Yaqui Brakes.

“We’ve interrogated the goddamn living hell out of them,” Chastain said.

Virgil nodded. He was standing with his back to me as he looked out the window next to the painting of Jesus.

Chastain was sitting in a chair next to the door.

“They don’t know anything else?” I said.

“Other than Dmitry and Big Billy providing details about Ray and Leonard being the fellas that did the work,” Chastain said, “they don’t know shit.”

Virgil turned from the window.

“They don’t,” he said.

“Couple of dumbasses,” Chastain said.

“They signed on,” Virgil said, “thought they’d make some good money.”

“Little did they know,” Chastain said.

“Don’t think they knew what they were getting into until it was too late,” Virgil said.

“Yep,” Chastain said. “They was scared as hell of both Dirk and Ballard.”

“Dee, too,” Virgil said.

Chastain nodded.

“Said they wanted to back out,” Chastain said. “But they were scared they’d kill them.”

“Most likely right?” Virgil said.

“How about the telegram we sent to the governor’s office?” I said. “Any word back regarding the financials and whatnot?”

Virgil shook his head a little.

“Only that someone would report from the office as soon as the weather permitted,” Virgil said.

Doc Crumley came into the room with a dark bottle and a spoon.

“Oh,” Doc said. “Didn’t know you fellas was up here.”

“’Lo Doc,” Chastain said.

“Doc,” Virgil said with a nod.

“No more, Doc,” I said.

“Too soon not to,” he said.

“No more,” I said.

“You sure?” he said.

“More than sure,” I said. “I’ve had enough of that, don’t know if I’m coming or going.”

“You’re go

“I know,” I said. “No more. If I go ahead and die, at least I will be alert enough to know it.”

“Okay,” he said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“Will do,” I said. “But I won’t. And I will be walking outta here shortly.”

Doc put his fists on his hips.

“Don’t want to push it, Everett,” he said.

“I’m good,” I said.

Doc shook his head.

“You’re tore up inside,” he said, “and that needs time to heal, Everett.”

“I know,” I said. “I’ll take it easy.”

The doc looked to Virgil and Chastain and shook his head a little, then looked back to me.

“Don’t get on any horses,” he said.

“I won’t, Doc,” I said.

Doc Crumley left the room, shaking his head.

“So what now?” I said.

Virgil folded his arms and looked to the floor for a moment.

“Chastain and me rode out and talked to each of the ranchers from that list Swickey provided us,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Chastain nodded.

“We don’t think none of them had a hand in this,” he said.

“No,” Virgil said. “We don’t.”

“We talked to the rancher Eddie worked with, too,” Chastain said.

“Westmorland,” Virgil said. “The one that Dee and Dirk had worked for.”

“And?” I said.

Virgil shook his head.

“He’d be the last to muster something like this,” Virgil said. “Good man.”

“Leaves us with the whores,” I said.

Virgil nodded.

“We talked to a few,” Chastain said.

“And we’ll talk to them all, but it’s like Belle was saying. Whores are whores because they are whores.”

— 69 —

I’m done with being looked after, Allie,” I said. “Really.”

“Nonsense,” Allie called from the kitchen.

“Not nonsense,” Virgil said. “If Everett wants to be left alone, leave him alone.”

After I left the resting room above Doc Crumley’s, Allie had insisted I stay with her and Virgil. The bullet I received from Ballard was a .45 that Crumley took out of me. Crumley said if it’d been an inch to the left it would have been the last train.

I was weak from the loss of blood, and got around a little slow due to the pain, but was on the mend.

Allie had a special down-filled cot she borrowed from one of her gal friends with the ladies’ social. She placed it near the fireplace and demanded I stay with them until the snow was all melted and it was no longer muddy.

Allie came out of the kitchen carrying a tray with a bowl of soup and a chunk of bread.

“Everett needs continued rest,” Allie said. “And my special nourishment.”

“Hell, Allie,” I said. “That’s pretty much all I have been doing, is eating and sleeping.”

“Well, that’s just the way it is,” Allie said. “It’s not every day I get to take care of somebody.”

“By God, not true, Allie,” Virgil said. “You take care of me every day.”

“Oh, pooh,” Allie said, swinging her tail like a cat as she walked back to the kitchen. “Nobody takes care of Virgil Cole . . . ’Sides, Everett likes to be looked after by me.”

She poked her head back out the kitchen door.

“Don’t you, Everett?”

I picked up my spoon and smiled.

“I appreciate what you do for me, Allie,” I said. “I certainly do.”

“See, Virgil,” Allie said. “Everett knows the meaning of appreciation.”

Allie tucked back in the kitchen.