Chapter 13

Tom was finally up and about, arm in a sling. He was still avoiding Miranda, his anger paling, but not yet to the point where he wished to confront her.

The doctor had suggested a short walk and so he headed down the street, pausing in front of the saloon. He wasn't much of a drinker, however the piano music, which came wafting from inside, was good and he felt he needed something to brighten his spirits.

Looking around briefly as he entered, he saw the usual assortment of card games and saloon girls plying drinks and other pleasures.

Moving to the bar, he started to order when he realized he had no money. Angrily he turned to leave.

"Care to join me?"

The face was clean shaven, the clothes clean. The man had been sitting alone at a back table when Tom entered and had moved to the bar beside him.

"Randy Barrett," he said offering his hand and motioning to the table.

"Well... sure, I guess. I'm Tom Willis," said Tom, holding out his good hand.

"I heard about what happened to you and your wife. Ramon Vasquez is one tough hombre," stated the stranger as they sat at a back table. "You're probably lucky just to be sitting here right now. A lot of men would have been buzzard bait by now."

Tom nodded though he didn't feel very lucky at all right now.

"You seem to know a lot about me," Tom said somewhat suspiciously.

"Well," said Barrett, "Mrs. Jenkins is good at helping Doc Welty, but she does have a loose tongue. I"m afraid it's all over town about what Vasquez did to you... and your wife."

"What do you mean what he did to my wife?" demanded Tom indignantly.

"I'm sorry, I really am," said the rancher with genuine concern, "but it seems you were delirious for a while and..."

"And what?" demanded Tom reddening.

"You talked about what went on between Vasquez and your wife... look, it's none of my business."

"Damned right it isn't, or anyone else's!"

"Lord knows there's already enough gossip about your wife. It's better left alone."

"Gossip? What gossip?"

Barrett seemed hesitant.

"Tell me!" insisted Tom.

"Well..."

Tom's voice lowered into the range of threats.

"Tell me!"

"Look," said Barrett, obviously embarrassed, "while you were at the Doc's, your wife has been staying with old Reverend Graves and that young wife of his, Ellen."

"Go on."

'Well, there's talk that since your wife moved in, Ellen has been whoring and your wife is mixed up in it some way."

Tom was astounded. After all that had happened...

"You're lying!"

"I kind of wish I were," Barrett replied, "but the strangest thing of all is that old man Graves shot and killed himself last night."

Tom's mouth dropped open in disbelief. First Miranda's shameful debauchery with Vasquez and now mixed up with whores and a suicide?

"My God," Tom uttered under his breath, "What will she do next?"

"Look," consoled Barrett, his hand reaching out to cover Tom's, "I'm really sorry you had to hear this."

Tom was shocked, but strangely he did not draw away. Barrett's hand was soft, warm. In fact his whole demeanor was unlike the other men Tom had ever known. They were rough, course, loud and vulgar. This man, Barrett, seemed just the opposite, refined, sensitive and caring.

"I... I'd better go," said Tom, disoriented, not really knowing what to do or where to go.

"I understand," said the gentle stranger,"but my place is not far, just North of town. There would be just the two of us, so if you ever need me..."

His hand squeezed Tom's ever so lightly.

Tom was dumbfounded. Wounded, his wife doing Lord only knows what and now a man offers a relationship.

Tom wasn't offended, rather he found Barrett to be genuine and at least honest about his intentions.

"Thanks, Barrett..."

"Please, call me Randy."

"All right... Randy... I..."

Tom was chocking on his words. He questioned what he really wanted to say to this man. His mind whirled. Confused, he only knew for sure this man was so different from the others and, in many ways, like himself.

"I... I... I have to go. My... wife..." Tom uttered almost breathless as he arose.

"Of course," replied Barrett, their eyes meeting, his voice low and sincere, "but if you need me... ever..."

"Yes, I... understand," Tom said, his heart pounding.

It was a very confused, angry and excited young man who walked from the Sierra Verde Saloon.