Chapter Forty-Four
Jim Crown was aware, albeit barely, of being up on the back of a horse. He was also, vaguely, cognizant of someone being seated in back of him. He picked his hanging head up and slowly opened his eyes. Bright, blue skies appeared overhead--along with some golden leaves. Directly ahead of him, sunlight was bouncing off some unknown body of water--a river, by appearances. A warm and gentle breeze was blowing, but there was still an unmistakable Autumn crispness to the air. And the reeds along the river's bank were as golden as the leaves in the grove of trees they were standing in.
"All right!" Mister Donnelly suddenly shouted, "This looks like a good spot ta rest an' water the horses. Yeager?!"
"Yeah, boss?!"
"See if Old Dan has any more a' them biscuits left over from breakfast!"
"Yes, sir!" Mark Yeager acknowledged.
Jim turned and watched the dispatched cowboy disappear. Jim Crown continued watching as Koree slipped her arms from around his waist and herself to the ground. He dismounted himself and then led their mutual mount down to the river they had just ridden up to.
"Come on!" Koree urged, (in Spanish a' course) "Let's walk some of the stiffness out of our legs."
The cowboy had dropped the reins to allow the animal to drink. That left his hands free to loosen their saddle's girth and him free to follow after the girl--which he readily did.
The girl was already a good hundred yards upstream.
And, by the time Jim rejoined her, Koree had gathered up a whole bouquet of some pretty, purple fall flowers--by the roots?!
"Yu-ma`-tus," the girl informed the confused looking cowboy, "The root is good for healing rashes, the leaves and stems for upset stomachs."
"What about the flower petals?" Jim wondered and held a 'yu-ma`-tus' blossom up before the busy 'herbalogist'.
"The petals are good for...the eyes," Koree announced, "Because they are so pretty to look at!" she added with a wry smile.
Jim just stood there, staring dreamily across at the girl, (which sure was good for his eyes) and, eventually, returned her smile. "Where did you ever learn all this stuff about plants?" he pondered and pitched his plant onto the girl's growing pile.
"My-y...mother...taught me," Koree painfully explained, "She learned it from her father. My Grandfather was a great 'healer' of our people."
The couple continued on--in silence. Except a' course, for the sound of an occasional bird and the gentle rustling of those gloriously golden leaves. It was a beautiful day for a stroll along a stream. It was a beautiful day to be doing anything! It was the sort a' day you could--very easily--get lost in...
"There you are!" David Samuel Fisher surmised upon finally finding his errant friend--with Little Fawn, a' course. "Mr. Donnelly wanted me ta tell yah that we'll be pullin' out in fifteen minutes. He, uh, also wants me ta stay with you," the cowboy continued, collapsing onto the ground beside the couple, "on account a' how--when the two a' yous are tagether--'you have a tendency ta lose all track a' time'!" he quoted--in an attempt to clarify the order for his obviously annoyed amigo.
Jim Crown gave their guardian a 'guilty-as-charged' glance and then returned all of his attention to the lovely young lady who was lying in his lap--for a change.
"So-o..." Dave said, refusing to be ignored, "Have the two a' you set a date, yet?"
Jim glanced up from the girl again and gave his partner a highly perturbed glare.
"Well, you cain't jes' live tagether--in si-in!" Dave defensively declared and then watched as his perturbed partner's glare gradually gave way to a grin.
" Que` pasa?" Koree questioned--in Spanish.
"Our nosey visitor wants to know when we're getting married," her cowboy obligingly came back--also speaking in Spanish.
Then, both cowboys watched in astonishment as the beautiful girl 'gasped' and sat bolt upright, "This can never be!" she shrieked--again in Spanish.
"Well," Jim exclaimed as the girl scrambled to her feet and started heading downstream--towards where they'd left their horse, "we cain't jes' live tagether--in si-in!"
"What did you say ta her?!" Dave demanded, pulling his Spanish speakin' compadre to his feet.
"I dunno. Bring the weeds. Koree?! KOREE, WAIT UP!" the completely perplexed cowboy called out.
But to no avail.
It took Jim Crown close to a quarter of a mile to catch up to the girl again. "What...do you mean...'It...can...never be'?!" the recently ill runner breathlessly inquired. (Jim just didn't have the stamina ta go chasin' after girls'.) Then he latched onto the young lady's wrists and swung her around to face him, "I thought you...wanted...ta be...my...woman!"
"Your woman, yes!" Koree reassured the completely crushed looking cowboy, "I will cook for you...and clean for you�and care for you! But I cannot be your 'wife'!" Then, seeing as how the pale--and still panting--young white couldn't possibly look any more confused, she haltingly continued, "A...man must become...'familiar'...with his wife. And--as much as I love you--I fear I cannot be...'familiar' with you--as it is a wife's duty to be. The whites who... violated...me...and my mother...cut us--"
"Oh, Koree!" Jim Crown suddenly interrupted, taking the trembling girl into his arms, "You scared me! I thought that you were going to say that you didn't love me!" he--literally--cried and then continued--as the tears continued to stream from his tightly shut eyes, "It has to be, Koree! Do you understand?! It has to be! Because--if I can't marry you--I'm not 'marrying' anybody! EVER! I could never love anyone else as much as I love you! I already got Old Dan to cook and clean for me...and Doc' Lieberg to care for me! I want you to be my 'wife'!"
"You will not hate me if I am not whole?" the trembling beauty tentatively inquired with a quivering voice--and tear filled eyes of her own.
"There's no denying that it was your physical beauty that first drew my attention to you," Jim Crown quietly confessed, "but it was your inner beauty that made me fall in love with you. You are a whole person--on the inside, Koree! And you'll make me the proudest and happiest man alive--if you will just say 'yes'! You will 'marry' me!" the now even paler young white rather passionately proposed--and then pulled back a bit to witness his 'woman's' response.
"Perhaps this 'Doctor Lieberg' could...do something?" Jim Crown's wife-to-be rationalized somewhat shakily.
The girl's husband-to-be broke into the biggest grin imaginable and threw his head back to send a silent prayer of thanks heavenward. The deliriously happy young man picked the lovely lady up, twirled her around a few times, set her back down on the ground--and then passed out cold! (His little race along the riverbank--along with the pretty girl's acceptance of his proposal--was, apparently, too much for him).
"I'm glad ta see that the two a' you kissed and made up!" Dave sarcastically commented as he passed Koree the bundle of weeds and then caught his slumping companion under the arms. "So-o..." Dave calmly began as he hoisted the cowboy's completely limp body up over his left shoulder, "Have the two a' you set a date, yet?"
Crown's woman smiled somewhat uncertainly and then simply said, "Si-i..."
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Once agai-ain, Jim Crown was barely aware of being up on the back of a horse--with 'somebody' seated behind him. "Kor-ree...?" he called out softly--and was surprised to hear a man's voice speak into his ear.
"Easy, son. It won't be long, now. We'll be home soon and then the doctor'll have a look at that leg."
His le-eg? But it was his ba-ack that Mr. Donnelly wanted the doctor ta have a look at!
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"Do-oc?!" Mr. Donnelly called out as he and Dave Fisher escorted their bull-fightin' associate into the physician's seemingly empty office.
"Ye-es?!" Doctor Lieberg acknowledged from one of the office's two back rooms. "Ah-hah!" the physician added as his face appeared in one of the two open doorways--closely followed by the rest of his besmocked body, "I see you boys made it back safe and sound."
"Safe maybe," the trail boss begrudgingly agreed, "but I ain't so sure how sound. An' that's why we're here..."
The doctor studied the three--apparently healthy--cowhands for a few moments. Then he latched onto the least healthy looking cowboy of the bunch and began leading him over to a long, rectangular table.
"Why'd yah pick me-e?" Jim Crown annoyedly inquired.
"Oh-oh, I don't know. Probably because you look like you've lost about 20 pounds," the physician calmly replied, "and your complexion is nearly as white as my coat! What happened?!"
"He got gored in the back by an ornery old bull!" the cowboy's boss came back.
"An' damn near DIED!" Dan Fisher's youngest offspring helpfully filled in.
Jim gave Dave an annoyed glare. Then, seeing the look of absolute astonishment that was on his physician's face, the cowboy defensively declared, "It's been pert' near two months...an' my back's healed up jes' fi-ine!"
"Sit down!" the deeply skeptical looking doctor ordered, "And take your shirt off!"
Seein' as how he was so outnumbered, the unhappy cow puncher plunked his posterior down on the sheet covered table--and begrudgingly began unbuttoning his shirt.
As the cowboy's shirt came off--and the ghastly reminder of his close brush with both the bull a-and death became visible--a low whistle escaped from Doc' Lieberg's lips.
"What do yah think, Doc'?" Jim's anxious amigo anxiously asked.
"I thi-ink...that he's lucky to be alive!" the good doctor diagnosed. Then, to his patient (who he had started pokin' and proddin') he rather dazedly--and amazedly--added, "I can't believe you survived this!" Several pressing minutes later, Doc' Lieberg took a step or two back from the table and then sighed.
"What do you think, Doc'?" Mr. Donnelly anxiously re-inquired.
"He's right!" the still somewhat stunned physician informed the bull-fighter's frowning friends, "His back has healed up...jes' fi-ine!"
Jim gave both of his relieved lookin' companions 'I tole you so!' glares and began tugging his shirt back on.
"Then," his trail boss began, "what caused 'im ta collapse this afternoon?"
"Exertion...exhaustion...the loss of blood...a lack of energy...It could've been any one--or a combination of--those things. Just because the wound in his back has healed, doesn't mean that the rest of his body has recovered."
Jim winced as both Dave and Mr. Donnelly shot him some 'We told you so!' stares.
"You know..." the not completely recovered cowboy's doctor continued, suppressing a smile all the while, "I've heard the term 'cowpoke' before, but I always thought it referred to 'you boys pokin' the cows'--not to 'the cows pokin' you'!" The physician grinned as the three 'cowpokes' groaned--at his 'pokin' fun'.
"C'mon!" the trail boss invited and motioned for their redressed associate to rejoin him, "I'll buy you that drink I didn't get to buy you in Dodge!"
"You two go on," Jim urged, "I want ta talk ta the Doc'..."
"We could wait..." Dave Fisher offered.
"Na-ah, do yore waitin' over at 'The Wooden Nickel' an' I'll be along directly..."
The cowboy's chums exchanged worried glances, but then obligin'ly began headin' for the exit.
"What do we owe yah, Doc'?!" Dave called back over his shoulder.
"Nothing!" the good-hearted doctor assured them, "In fact, I would have paid yous--for a look at THAT scar!"
The two departing cowboys gave the good-humored healer a couple a' 'much obliged' nods--and broad grins--before disappearin' out the door.
"You need to put on some weight!" the physician prescribed, seeing that the 'bull-fighter's' rebuttoned shirt seemed several sizes too big for him, "And you can start with a piece--or two--of my wife's blue ribbon blackberry pie!"
But Jim rejected the doctor's delicious sounding prescription, preferring information over food--at least, for the moment. "Do-oc', I need ta ask you some...things. An' it ain't things that I kin ask while I'm eatin'..." he solemnly added.
Doc' Lieberg looked more than a little intrigued and promptly plunked himself down beside the troubled cowboy on the table, "O-Okay! Ask away!"
Jim drew in a deep breath and began, "For the pas' nineteen--some odd--years, I have been blissfully ignorant of any--an' all--matters pertaining ta...pregnant...females. A fact which has suited me jes' fi-ine! Up 'til no-ow..."
Doc' Lieberg's eyebrows arched...higher...and higher--as Jim Crown told him of all that had transpired in the past pert' near two months.
"I see-ee..." the stunned physician stated--when the cowboy finally finished his tale of near tragedy and romance, "And what is it you wanted to ask me?"
"Two things. First, if a woman were almost eight months pregnant, wouldn't you be able ta tell--jes' by lookin' at her? I mean, shouldn't it sho-ow?"
"Not necessarily. It would depend on how heavy the woman was and how baggy her clothes were."
"Koree is definitely not 'heavy', Doc'! Heck, she's even thinner than me-e! An' her clothes ain' all that 'baggy'."
"In that case, yes. If there were no 'complications'--and if the woman were, indeed, eight months pregnant--there should be...and would be...a noticeable 'bulge' to her belly. Bu-ut, without a thorough examination, I could not possibly give you a prognosis as to Koree's current condition."
"Which brings me ta my other question..." the even more troubled young man glumly began, "Koree wants ta know if it would be possible for you to...examine her?"
"Yes! Of course! I'll see her immediately!"
"Actually, I was thinkin' more along the lines a' late Saturday afternoon. An old friend a' Dave's father is visitin' out at the Double D...turns out he's some kind a' Judge...an' this 'Judge Compton' fellah said he'd be pleased as punch ta marry Koree an' me! Mrs. Fisher has kindly scheduled the ceremony for this Saturday mornin', an' it will be performed--precisely--at 10 a.m. in Mrs. Fisher's front parlor. An' she an' Koree--an' I--would like ta invite you--an' yore wife--ta our weddin'."
The cowboy's completely overwhelmed weddin' guest very properly replied, "Hannah and I will be delighted to attend!" Then, something suddenly occurred to him and he gave the grinning groom-to-be a rather grave glance, "Ji-im, it might be better if I were to see the girl before you got married..."
"Oh-oh," the now solemn cowboy said as he slid off'n the table and on ta the floor, "there will be a weddin'! Dependin' on yore...diagnosis, there jes' may not be a weddin' night. Thanks, Doc'!" Jim quickly added and started heading for the front door, tuckin' his baggy shirt's tails in along the way.
"You must love this young lady very much..." his doctor--and friend--finally realized.
"Only more than life itself!" the cowboy truthfully exclaimed. Then he flashed the physician a wry smile and exited.
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There! Yah see! It was his back--not his leg.
"Ahhhh-ahhhh!" Jim Crown cried out in agony. Someone--it seemed--was trying to take his right leg off--just above the knee! The cowboy's eyes snapped open and he lay there, staring up at the sun--directly overhead. Correction. It was an incredibly beautiful crystal chandelier full a' lit candles he was lookin' at--and someone was tryin' ta take his right leg off--just above the knee! "What...are you...DOIN'?!" demanded Jim of one a' five fellahs who had a firm hold of him.
"What I've been doin' for the past fifteen minutes," the fellah holdin' his right leg calmly replied, "pulling pieces of your pant leg out of your wound," the man paused in his tedious task to stare his questioner right in the eyes. "By gawd, James! The resemblance is truly remarkable! There can be no denying this poor boy's parentage! Where has he been all this time?"
'James' turned out to be the vaguely familiar fellah who had a firm hold of his right hand and wrist, "All that 'Santi' character said was that they found him working on some ranch near San Antonio..."
Jim's jaw dropped as it suddenly dawned on him--the old guy who'd just made the reply? Why, it was none other than his--very own--GRANDFATHER! "Speakin' a' San Antonio," the ranch hand with the gaping hole through his leg gasped, "I got ta get back there--pronto! I was less than 18 hours away from 'tyin' the knot'--when those four yahoos showed up an' made me miss my own weddin'!"
All five members of Jim's little audience looked positively aghast at his little announcement.
The cowboy couldn't tell which part they'd found more shockin'--that he was plannin' ta leave--or, plannin' ta get hitched...Probably both! "I know I jes' got here, Grandfather," Jim admitted to his still stunned--and speechless--relative, "but Koree's waitin' for me back in San Antone'. I promised I'd get back ta her as soon as I could!"
His 'apoplectic' relative remained speechless--in spite of his explanation.
"Now, see here, young man!" the person who'd been pokin' around in--an' pullin' things out a'--his right leg finally piped up, "I've been practicing medicine for over forty years! And I believe that qualifies me to tell you that TRAVEL--at this time--IS completely--OUT OF THE QUESTION!"
"Unless you people plan ta keep me a prisoner here," the completely unimpressed cow puncher calmly continued, "I'm gonna be pullin' out at first light. I'd appreciate it if you would wrap my leg back up an' loan me some supplies...an' a fresh horse."
"Oh-oh," the practicing physician of over forty years turned his frown on the elder Crown and gasped in complete exasperation, "He's a Crown, all right!"
James Malcolm Crown continued to refrain from commenting. He'd lost his whole family once to an Apache raiding party. And he'd lost another son because of sheer stupidity. If he was to keep the only family he had left, his words would have to be chosen very wisely. "Just...try to rest now, James..." the sage old gentlemen soothingly said, "...and we'll see how you feel in the morning. Stay with him, Estefan!" he ordered down to the middle-aged, Mexican fellah seated on the left side of the bed he'd just risen up from. Then he gave his grandson a deeply concerned look and left--before the young cowboy could comment--e-er, argue.
"It don' matter how I feel!" Jim assured the remaining members of his audience, "Come sun-up, I'm gonna be light'n out a' here...I promised her I would...Koree needs me!"
"Si, Don Diego," Estefan agreed. "She needs you--ALIVE! And--if this Koree truly cares for you--she would not want you to bleed to death--somewhere between here and San Antonio!"
"That is a very good point!" the doctor realized aloud and calmly continued his wound wrapping.
Seein' as how he couldn't argue with Estefan's logic, Jim chose--instead--to change the subject, "What did you call me?"
"Diego," Estefan answered. "It is Spanish for--"
"James," Jim interjected, "Yeah, I now, an' Estefan is Spanish for Stephen. But what's this 'Don' business about?"
"I work for your grandfather, senor. He is a gentleman of great wealth and property. It would be disrespectful to address his grandson in any other manner," Estefan respectfully replied.
"Yeah? Well, I'm really just a poor, dumb cowboy," James Crown, Jr. candidly admitted, "An' I prefer ta be respected for who I am--not for what I own. Besides, all I actually own is a couple a' acres northeast a' San Antone'...a half a' dozen or so head a' saddle horses...an' one broken down bronc. So you kin jes' call me Jim...or, Diego," 'Diego' added with a grin and offered Estefan his right hand.
"Your grandfather would never allow me to address you in such a 'familiar' fashion," Estefan remarked as he released the cowboy's left hand and took a firm hold of his right.
"My grandfather doesn't have ta find out..." the poor, dumb cowboy pointed out with a wry grin--and a warm and hearty handshake.
"Your...'secret' is safe with me," the doctor assured the two rather nervous looking new amigos. "Now, I suggest that you do as your grandfather suggested--and try to get some rest. I'll be in to check on you in a couple of hours." And--with that--the physician left, taking the hands that had been holding onto his head--and other leg--along with him.
But the cowboy couldn't rest. His rewrapped right leg was really throbbing. And besides, he had a bazillion questions for Estefan to answer.
It did not escape Jim Crown's attention that his grandfather's foreman--of some twenty plus years--asked almost as many questions as he answered. Thus, for nearly three full hours, he and Estefan Jazeres had--what might be called--an 'information exchange'.
There was an open-hearth fireplace in the ritzy bedroom he'd been brought to--and on its mantle was a 'tic-toc'n' clock.
"We have spoken enough for one evening, Diego," Estefan decided as the timepiece chimed twice, "your grandfather's physician will be coming in soon and--if he finds you awake--he will be furious! We will talk some more in the morning--later this morning," he added after giving the clock a weary glance, "And I will tell you about your other grandfather. You had more than one, amigo," he reminded James Rolland Crown with a rather wry smile of his own. "And Senor Thatcher was a truly remarkable man..." the vaquero concluded, his whispered voice filled with admiration.
"If I close my eyes now, I'll sleep pas' sun-up," Jim informed his informative friend.
"Really, Diego! I do wish you would give up this dumb idea of yours! Senor Freemont is a very fine doctor! If he says you are in no condition to travel--then you are in no condition to travel!" Estefan practically shouted. But then his anger fled and his chiseled-featured face softened, "Besides, how far could you go--with only one good leg, huh?"
"I dunno," the poor, dumb cowboy admitted, "but I guess I'm gonna find out," he stubbornly added and then watched as the flustered foreman threw his arms up in surrender.
Doctor Freemont came in, fussed over Jim for awhile, and then left--all without saying a word.
Speaking of not saying a word...
Estefan sat there, stewing in silence--for almost an entire hour.
"Senor Thatcher should have been a full partner in this place," the flustered fellow finally said and watched as Senor Thatcher's wide-awake grandson quickly turned his head--and his full attention--back to him. "He, too, worked as your grandfather's foreman...for over twenty years. It was his knowledge of cattle and horses that made the 'Two Crowns' so...profitable. There was even an agreement--between your grandfathers--to this effect," he sadly summed up.
"But then my parents...departed," Jim deduced, sounding equally sad.
Estefan nodded, "And the partnership was dissolved...even before it could be legally established."
Jim listened attentively as Estefan rambled on--for the next four hours--about 'Rolland Pierce Thatcher'. Some of the tales had been already told to him by his Uncle Wes'. But the majority of this latest exchange of information was totally new to him.
As for Estefan, the poor fellow had been going since the previous day's sunrise! And so, to stay awake--and on duty--he had to keep talking!
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Speakin' a' sunrise...
Come dawn, three different people paid the long-winded pair, visits.
First, there was the pretty, young Mexican miss who brought them their breakfast.
Second, was his grandfather's still silent physician.
And then, of course, there was his grandfather--who was not so silent! "Doctor Freemont informs me that you are still in no condition to travel. Your blood loss was severe. And further hemorrhaging could be life-threatening. I know how important this promise you made must be to you. And--to help you keep it--I intend to send some of my men to San Antonio. They will find the girl and bring her here...to you."
"Koree is in no condition ta travel, either, Grandfather. She's about three weeks away from havin' a baby." Jim saw his relative's eyes light up at the prospect of a possible 'great-grandchild', and regrettably added, "I'm not the father."
His grandfather's eyes widened with a sudden realization, "You must love this girl very much..."
"Only more than life itself!" the head-over-heels in love cow-hand loudly--and proudly--restated.
James Malcolm Crown quickly determined that--in that case--he had better change his strategy. "You can take Monte..Montego--my stallion. You rode home on him last night. A-And I'm sending Estefan--and three others--along with you to insure your safe arrival!"
Jim stared disbelievingly up at his awfully obligin' relative for a few moments and somehow managed to stammer out a "Tha-anks!" (He didn't really trust the foxy old fellah.)
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Bu-ut, less than an hour later, he was seated up on Monte's back, surrounded by four of his grandfather's best, and apparently 'hand-picked' men.
"You're welcome ta come along...a-and ta attend my weddin'..." the groom-to-be tacked on in an attempt to prevent any possible oversight on his part. Jim just wasn't up on all the social graces.
"I appreciate the invitation," the old gentleman genuinely acknowledged, "But it seems I'm not in any condition to be traveling, either. Especially not at the speed I expect you'll be traveling at!" he added and he and his grandson exchanged grins. "You will bring her back here, won't you?!" the now sober-looking and sounding old rancher all but pleaded. "I mean, I want you to think of this as your home, now, James...yours and your young brides."
Speakin' of his young bri-ide...
"Grandfather," Jim said, sounding somewhat sober himself, "I think you should know. The girl I'm gonna marry? We-ell, she's...a full-blooded Comanche."
The old gentleman appeared shocked--horrified, even! And then--perfectly--calm, "I've been trying to find you for over sixteen years! I'm not about to lose you now, James. I can't afford to lose you. You're all the family I have left. Your wife will always be WELCOME here! No matter who--or what--she is! Godspeed, young man!"
"Thank you, Sir!" the very relieved young man said most sincerely. Then he flashed his grandfather a grateful smile and headed off in the direction of his other home.
The cowboy hadn't been entirely truthful. When he said he had ta get back 'cuz Koree needed him, what he meant was, 'cuz he needed Koree. Jim just hadn't adjusted ta life without Koree. There were times those past eleven days when he'd thought he'd die-ie from missin' her so much! Which was sort a' understandable--seein' as how the two of them had spent twenty-four hours a day together--for pert' near two whole months! The cowboy couldn't--wouldn't rest until he was back in his woman's arms.
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Jim Crown was aware, once mo-ore, of being mounted on some horse with some person seated in back of him. "Grandfather...?" the only half-conscious cowboy called out.
"No, Senor. It is I, Estefan. Your Grandfather could not accompany us, remember?"
The cowboy did remember...but, just barely. Jim pulled his hanging head up and shook it a few times. Then he forced his eyes open and looked around--in a rather desperate attempt to get his 'bearings' back. It was the middle of the night. But the sky was clear--and filled to overflowing with tiny, twinkling stars. Which is how he knew it was the middle of the night. Like most seasoned trailhands--who spend half of their lives sleeping out-of-doors--Jim could look at the distance certain stars were from the horizon and tell the time to within an hour or two. He could also tell directions. And so he also knew--by certain stars' positions--that they were no longer headed east. He also now knew what his crafty grandfather's orders must have been to his men. They were to ride along with him 'til he passed out--and then bring him back to the ranch. "How far did I go?" Jim wondered, sounding just a tad bit dejected.
"Close to twenty miles," Estefan answered, "That good leg of yours is a very good one. Too good! We will have to stop and make camp soon...thanks to it. And--also thanks to it--your grandfather will be very worried. He was expecting us to be back by now. Doctor Freemont assured him that you could not travel more than five miles...in your condition."
"Turn the horse around!" the traveler with the very goo-ood leg ordered a bit gruffly. But then politely added, "Por favor..." (If you please...)
Apparently it did not please Estefan to do so.
Hence, the boss man's grandson grabbed a hold of one of their horse's reins and began pulling the animal around, himself!
Estefan easily overpowered the passenger in the front seat and turned the stallion in a tight circle until they were once again headed in a westerly direction, down the two-rut road that passed for one of the main routes of the Butterfield Stage.
"If you take me back, I'll jes' leave again," his overpowered--but not defeated--prisoner promised.
"Oh, really?" Estefan sarcastically stated, "And how will you do this--when you are too weak to even sit a horse?"
"I don't care!" Jim Crown rather spiritedly replied, "I'll cra-awl...if I have to!"
"And then your grandfather will have me 'sit' on you!" the 'Two Crowns' foreman forebodingly prophesied, "No-o, Diego, you must give it up now! Believe me, I know Senor Crown. And he is not about to let you kill yourself! You mean more to him than anything! Even money! The sum that was given for your ransom is nothing compared to what he has paid the 'Pinkerton Detective Agency' over the past sixteen years!"
"Koree means more ta me than anything!" James Crown, Jr. came right back, "An' that's why I got ta get back ta San Antone'!"
"Perhaps..." Estefan conceded, "But the price you are willing to pay to get there...may be more than you--or your grandfather--can afford!"
"Maybe not..." the barely conscious cowboy stubbornly continued, "If you were willing ta 'split the cost'..."
"I am not taking you to San Antonio, Diego," Estefan assured him, "Your grandfather has entrusted your life into my hands! I had to promise that I would return you safely to him! And--by safely--I believe he means that he expects you to still be breathing! Ah! The Caldero! We will make camp here! Julio, see that the horses are fed and watered! Marko, gather up some wood and get a fire going! Phillipe`, see if you can find us something to eat! I am famished!" By the time Estefan finished shouting out his orders, he had Jim and him on the ground, Jim's bedroll was opened up and the poor, dumb cowboy was plunked down upon it.
The next thing Jim knew, his saddle was off and the foreman had him lying flat with his weary head resting on it.
"Rest now," Estefan gently urged as he spread his bedroll out beside his charge's, "The food will be ready shortly."
"I won't rest! An' I won't eat! Until you say that you'll take me to San Antone'..." the cowboy added--by way of coercion.
"Then you will be very 'tired' and very 'hungry' when I return you to your grandfather," Estefan rather casually surmised.
"I won't eat for HIM, either!" the invalid vowed, "An' unless he puts bars on all the windows an' locks on all the doors--or a bullet in my other leg--I won't stay!" the now fully conscious young fellow exclaimed, speaking in dead earnest.
Marko had the wood gathered and the fire going.
And by its light, Estefan could clearly see the determination in the cowboy's dark eyes. Senor Crown's grandson was definately not bluffing--blackmailing maybe, but not bluffing! Well, he had said that he loved the girl more than life itself. And he apparently was a man of his word! "I will give the matter serious consideration, senor," the foreman finally announced, voicing a vow of his own.
The now hopeful looking cowboy let his head drop back onto his saddle. But those dark eyes of his did not close. And, true to his word, he would not eat o-or rest. Jim just kept tossing back and forth on his bedroll until his rewrapped wound began to bleed.
It took all four of his grandfather's 'hand-picked' men to hold him still long enough to stop the bleeding.
"Estefan?!" Jame's Crown's grandson gasped and grasped the front of the foreman's jacket with both of his fists.
"Si, senor?"
"Take me ta San Antone'?! Plea-ease?! I got ta get back ta Koree! Promise you'll take me to her?!"
Estefan exhaled an incredibly long--and loud--sigh of surrender and then pried the poor, dumb cowboy's fists from the front of his jacket, "As you wish!"
"Promise?!"
"Si, Diego. I promise! I will take you to the girl. Now you must rest! We all must rest," Estefan realized rather wearily, "Except for you, Julio. You will return to the hacienda and inform our patron that there has been a...cha-ange of plans."
'An' promises...' James Crown, Jr. rather jubilantly realized. Then the cowboy dropped back onto his bedroll and--FINALLY--gave up his bleedin' battle with unconsciousness.
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Julio returned bright and early the next morning, just as they were breaking camp.
Jim was anxiously aware of the fact that he had brought fifteen or so of his grandfather's men back along with him.
It seems that when the old gentleman heard of his grandson's refusal to either eat or sleep unless he was headed east, he ordered his men to escort the boy back--but not to the 'Two Crowns'--to San Antone'!...YE-ES!