Twin Cities Run

Chapter Twenty-Six

She was patiently waiting for him, sitting up on the cot, propped against three pillows.

Hickok pushed the tent flap aside and entered. “Hello, Black Beauty,” he said softly.

“Don’t just stand there, White Meat!” She motioned with her left arm, her right side still swathed in bandages. “Come over here!”

Hickok complied, stopping next to the cot.

“Don’t I get a hug?” Bertha baited him. “I missed you, honky!” She reached up and pulled him down to the cot, pressing him close with her good arm. He responded, but she sensed an aloof coolness about him, his embrace light and constrained. “Is somethin’ the matter?” she asked as he drew back.

“What could be the matter?” Hickok placed the Henry on the ground.

“I don’t know,” she answered uncertainly. Something was wrong, but what? Why was he acting so cold? Hadn’t he missed her the way she had missed him?

“I’m happy you’re okay,” Hickok stated quietly, smiling.

“I thought you were dead,” she informed him. “I hear that Joshua is alive too. What about Blade and Geronimo?”

Hickok looked down and sadly shook his head.

“I’m really sorry,” she soothed him. “I know how much those two meant to you.”

“They were my best pards.” His voice was choked with sorrow.

“What’s goin’ on out there?” Bertha quickly changed the subject.

“They’re making plans to evacuate the Twins.”

“Really?”

“Yep. They all want to come and live with us, just like you did.”

“Like I still do,” she corrected him. “I’m lookin’ to set up house with a crazy bastard I know.” She noticed he didn’t grin, and her blood raced.

What the hell was wrong? What had she done? Had he found someone else?

“How was it with the Porns?” she questioned him.” I hear you killed thirty of them in a gunfight.

“Not quite,” Hickok replied.

“Meet any good-lookin’ foxes?” she joked, laughing, except in her eyes.

“Nope.”

“You feelin’ okay?”

“Yep. I was bruised a bit, and I had to take a bath…”

“Had to?”

“Don’t ask. Beyond that, it wasn’t any big deal. How are you holding up?” He gently touched her bandaged side.

“They tell me I can’t get out of this cot for a couple of weeks at least,” she said bitterly. “I took an arrow in the chest. I’ll live, but I’ll be a while healing.”

“Who did it?” he demanded angrily. “The Wacks?”

“Uhhhh,” she hesitated, fearful of what he might do if she told him the truth. If Z was right, and peace was just around the corner, it wouldn’t do to have Hickok gun down Tommy and Vint. Well, Vint maybe. But she liked Tommy. “It’s all kind of hazy…” she finally answered.

“You don’t need to talk about it,” Hickok told her.

“Thanks.”

Hickok shifted, trying to find the right words to say to her. Should he tell her about Bear? What Bear had said? Or let her learn for herself, firsthand, from the horse’s mouth, so to speak?

“What are your plans?” she demurely inquired.

“Josh and I are going back to the Home.”

“Oh.” The single word conveyed her depth of despair.

“Hey! Cheer up!” He tenderly stroked her neck. “I’m coming back.”

Bertha averted his gaze. She was confused and emotionally torn by his reserved demeanor.

“I will be back,” Hickok vowed. “We’re going to the Home to see if the Family will accept the relocation scheme. After the Family votes on it, I’m coming right back. Even if they vote against the plan, I’m coming back. I have a number of things to settle here.”

Bertha was at a total loss for words.

“You have some settling to do yourself,” he advised her.

“I do?”

“You do.”

“I don’t understand.”

Hickok sighed, weariness pervading his soul.

“What do you mean?” Bertha asked him.

Hickok stared at the tent opening. “I met a friend of yours. Says the two of you are very… close.”

“Who?”

“He calls himself Bear.”

“Bear?” Bertha leaned forward, delighted. “My good buddy Bear! He’s still alive!”

“Yep. He is a… friend… of yours, then?”

“You bet your white ass!” Bertha giggled. “We went through a lot together. He saved me from Maggot.”

“I know.”

“Good ol’ Bear!” Bertha exclaimed cheerfully. “There wasn’t anyone I was closer to when I was with the Porns.” She failed to detect the hardening of Hickok’s jaw and the narrowing of his blue eyes.

“That’s what I gathered,” Hickok slowly* commented.

“Where is he?” Bertha inquired.

“He’s outside.” Hickok stood. “I’ll tell him you’re in here. I don’t think he knows.”

“No!” she began to protest. “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay.” He bent over and grabbed the Henry. “I can use the fresh air.” He walked to the tent flap.

“Hickok!” Bertha attempted to rise, to follow him, but she was overcome by severe dizziness.

Hickok paused in the tent opening. “Like I told you, I’ll be back to see you. While I’m gone, get your affairs straightened out.”

“Hickok!”

He was gone, the flap swaying in the breeze.

“Hickok!”

Bertha pushed herself to the edge of the cot and swung her legs over the side. The effort proved too much, and she collapsed onto the pillows, coughing, her right side in agony.

“Hickok,” she mumbled, tears filling her eyes, her heart breaking.

“Why?”