The Heart Remembers (27 page)

Silence.

“You gone deaf, deputy? I said, you got that?”

Ed Loomis looked out the window. “He’s leavin’, Chick.”

Barton stepped up beside him and watched the deputy hurrying away. He scowled. “If he don’t believe me, he soon will.”

Loomis turned and looked at the women. Fear was clearly etched on their faces.

Outside, Len Kurtz reached the middle of the street and broke into a dead-heat run. When he reached the marshal’s office, he was glad to see his boss there. Quickly, he told the story to Marshal Jake Merrell.

The marshal sighed and said, “I’ve heard of the Barton gang. They’ve been active in Kansas, holding up banks, stagecoaches, and trains for three or four years. They are, indeed, bloody killers. Those women and Dr. Logan are in grave danger. For sure, they’ll take some women with them when they go. They’ll probably kill Dr. Logan once they don’t need him anymore, too. Len, we’ve got to do something. Let’s sit down here and come up with some kind of plan.”

Even as Marshal Merrell was speaking, he noticed four riders draw up out front at the hitch rail.

Merrell’s eyes bulged. “Hey, that’s Chief U.S. Marshal John Brockman out there with some deputies!” Jake headed toward the door. “I don’t know what they’re doing here, but I’m sure glad to see them!”

Len was on his heels as he opened the door.

Brockman and his men were dismounting as Jake Merrell hurried up to the chief U.S. marshal and said, “Boy, am I glad to see you!”

Jake was about to tell him about the crisis at the town hall when Brockman pushed his black hat back a little on his head and said, “Jake, we’re on the trail of the Chick Barton gang from Kansas. They held up banks yesterday in Byers and Strasburg. They shot people in both banks and eluded the Strasburg posse. I received a wire this morning that—”

“Chief, the Barton gang is here in Central City right this moment.”

“They are?”

“Yes.”

Jake quickly explained the situation at the town hall. He told
Brockman of Barton’s threat to shed blood if the marshal tried to interfere and his threat to take two or three women as hostages when they left and to kill them if they were followed.

Brockman took a deep breath and ran his gaze over the faces of his deputies. “We don’t dare approach the town hall. It very well could get one or more of the women killed. We’ve got to be prepared to stop the gang when they attempt to leave. How long has Dr. Logan been in there working on the wounded gang member?”

“Just a few minutes. Not knowing what was going on in there, Len went to investigate when he saw Dr. Logan and the mayor’s wife hurrying into the building. The ladies were having a quilting bee. Len figured there was some kind of medical emergency, and hurried across the street to see if he could help in any way. Chick Barton talked to him through the locked door and told him the doctor was removing a bullet from the chest of one of his men. It’s going to take a while to get that bullet out and bandage him up so’s he can travel.”

“Good. Then we’ve got time to come up with a plan.”

Jake nodded. “Let’s go into my office and sit down.”

At the doctor’s office, Tharyn Logan was doing her best to care for the patients coming in. Some she had to tell to come back another time, and others she placed in the curtained areas of the examining and surgical room.

As time went on without the doctor appearing, Tharyn did her best to care for those in the curtained areas. She was able to handle the problems of most of them satisfactorily, and sent them home.

Meanwhile, at the town hall, Dr. Dane Logan worked to remove the slug from Bud Finch’s chest. The doctor had used chloroform to put Finch under during the surgery.

Betty Anderson, although not a medically trained person, was doing what she could to assist the doctor.

After almost an hour of working on Finch, Dr. Dane began stitching up the wound. Chick Barton was standing close by. He kept his eyes on the doctor’s hands as he asked, “He gonna be all right, Doc?”

“Yes. He will live.”

Vincent Wagner was standing close by the table at a side window, watching for any sign of someone approaching the building. Barton glanced at Wagner, looked back at Bud, then at the doctor.

“How long is he gonna be under the influence of the chloroform, Doc?”

“I’d say he’ll start coming around in a few more minutes. He should be fully awake in less than an hour.”

Barton turned toward Wagner. “Vince, you heard what the doc just said. We need to leave here as soon as Bud’s awake.”

“Sure, Chick. We need to pick out what women we want to take with us as hostages.”

“We’ll do that in a few minutes.”

Ed Loomis was still at the front of the building, keeping watch at the large window by the door. All three outlaws had holstered their guns.

While the women looked at the scene at the table, their hearts were pounding, wondering who among them would become hostages.

Dr. Dane finished the last stitch, knotted it, and let Betty dab at the blood around the wound with a wad of bandage material. He turned to Barton and said, “If you try to take Bud with you when you leave, he will die. Even when he wakes up, he’ll be in no condition to travel.”

Barton looked at him coldly. “We brought him here on a horse with one of us holdin’ him in the saddle. I was just thinkin’ that the best way to go would be to steal a wagon that’s already
hitched to a team of horses.” He snapped his fingers and grinned. “Yeah! That’d be good, because we could take more hostages with us in a wagon than ridin’ double on horseback.”

Dr. Dane shook his head. “Barton, Bud won’t be able to stand it, even in a wagon. Hard bumps are unavoidable, even on roads, but much more so if you’re traveling through rough country. Either way, the bumps will cause the wound to start bleeding. He’ll bleed to death if you do this.”

Barton chuckled drily. “Don’t give me that stuff, Doc. You’re just tryin’ to interfere with our escape. Bud’s tough. He’ll be all right.” He frowned and looked Logan in the eye. “And why do you care if Bud dies, anyway? He’s an outlaw.”

Dr. Dane met his gaze head-on. “I’ll tell you why. When I became a medical doctor, I took an oath in which I promised to protect human life. I promised to take care of the sick to the best of my ability. The ‘sick’ includes the wounded and the injured. The oath didn’t specify whether it was good people or bad people … just sick human beings. Bud Finch is an outlaw, yes, but he’s still a human being. As a doctor, I care about him, and I’ve done my best to save his life.”

Chick Barton sneered. “Well, tell you what, Doctor. Since you care so much about Bud, we’ll just make you one of the hostages when we go, so you can ride in the wagon and take care of him.”

Dr. Dane noticed that Vincent Wagner was standing at the nearby window with his holstered revolver almost within arm’s reach. He prayed in his heart, asking the Lord to help him, and started putting his medical instruments back in the black bag.
Just one step and I can yank Vincent’s gun out of its holster. I’ve got to make my move a fast one
.

He stole another look at Wagner’s holstered gun.

While still dabbing at the little bit of blood oozing from around Bud Finch’s stitches, Betty followed the doctor’s eyes when they went toward the outlaw’s gun.

When Dr. Dane looked back down at his patient, his gaze crossed Betty’s eyes. He held his gaze on her and almost without moving his lips, he whispered ever so quietly, “Don’t move.”

Betty assented with a look of understanding.

As Dr. Dane was closing his medical bag, he inched his way closer to Vincent, who was looking out the window.

Suddenly he snatched the Colt .45 from the holster, snapped back the hammer, and stepped out of Vincent’s reach. Vincent’s eyes bulged as he pivoted around and gave the doctor a startled look.

Dr. Dane pointed the muzzle at an equally startled Chick Barton, who was going for his gun. “Don’t do it, Barton!” he commanded.

Barton hesitated, noting the determined look in the doctor’s dark brown eyes.

“Lay it on the table, put your hands over your head, and take a step back,” Dane said, and in the same breath, he shouted at Ed Loomis, who had been looking out the window by the front door. “Take that gun out of its holster, Loomis! Drop it on the floor and come this way with your hands up, or I’ll shoot Chick!”

Barton had obeyed the doctor’s commands, and his face was dead white as he looked down the barrel of the gun and again noted the determination flashing in the doctor’s eyes. His pulse quickened as he called to Loomis while keeping his eyes on the doctor. “Ed, do as he says! He ain’t kiddin’! He’ll shoot me!”

The women at the tables looked on, still shaken by what they had already been through.

Loomis stood where he was, but made no move toward his gun. His hands hung loosely at his sides.

Vincent Wagner stood with his back toward the window, his eyes shifting back and forth between Loomis and Barton.

The doctor said, “Vincent, come over here and stand by Chick.”

Wagner moved from the window and stood beside Barton.

Ed Loomis sneered at the doctor. “You wouldn’t shoot anybody, Doc.”

Dr. Dane kept Barton and Wagner in the corner of an eye as he looked at Loomis. “What makes you think so?”

“What about your oath? If you shoot Chick, or any of us, you’ll be violatin’ that oath. You swore to protect human life, didn’t you?”

“I swore to protect human life, yes. And right now I’m protecting the lives of all these women. Do as I say, or I’ll start by shooting you!”

The look in the doctor’s eyes told the outlaws he meant business.

Barton bellowed with a quiver in his voice, “Ed, drop your gun and get over here! This guy ain’t kiddin’!”

Reluctantly, Loomis removed his gun from its holster, dropped it on the floor, but remained where he stood.

Dr. Dane glanced toward Ed. “Get over here!”

In that split second, Chick Barton reached back, snatched his revolver from the table, and thumbed back the hammer.

But he was too slow.

The gun in the doctor’s hand swung on him and spit fire as it roared.

Chick took the bullet in the shoulder. The revolver slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor as he clutched the wound and collapsed.

Betty bent down and picked up the gun.

At the same time, Vincent threw up his hands, eyes bulging, and cried, “Don’t shoot me, Doctor!”

Dr. Dane said, “Stand still, Wagner!”

He then swung his gun on Loomis, who was starting to bend over and pick up his weapon. “Don’t do it, Loomis!”

The outlaw froze.

“Get your hands in the air and get over here!” the doctor commanded.

Loomis lifted his hands over his head and moved up to where Wagner stood, trembling.

The doctor then ran his gaze between Loomis and Wagner. “Get down on the floor, facedown!”

As they obeyed, Dr. Dane said, “Stretch your arms and legs out as far as you can, and don’t flinch.”

They quickly stretched out as commanded, and lay absolutely still.

The women were all on their feet. Dr. Dane looked at them and made a slight smile. “You can all leave now.” Then to Betty Anderson: “Will you go to the marshal’s office and let him know what’s happened here?”

Betty handed him the gun she had picked up, and Peggy Shane said, “I’ll go with you, Betty.”

At the marshal’s office, the lawmen were on the boardwalk, having come outside when the sound of the shot came from the direction of the town hall. Suddenly lawmen and townspeople alike saw the women running out the door of the town hall. Betty Anderson and Peggy Shane were ahead of the rest of them.

“Come on!” said Chief U.S. Marshal John Brockman, pulling his gun.

Marshal Jake Merrell, Deputy Len Kurtz, and the federal deputies all joined Brockman in running toward the women, guns in hand.

When the lawmen met up with Betty and Peggy, they were told what had happened, and the two women called Dr. Dane Logan a hero.

Brockman and Merrell led the way as they hurried toward the town hall and plunged inside.

Dr. Dane Logan, still holding the revolver in his hand, had the bleeding Chick Barton on the table next to the one where Bud Finch lay. Finch was just starting to awaken from the effects of the chloroform. Ed Loomis and Vincent Wagner still lay spread-eagled on the floor.

The doctor looked up as the lawmen came charging in, and was surprised to see Chief Brockman and the other federal men. As they drew near, he said, “Hello, Chief. Glad to see you!”

The doctor gave his own explanation of what had happened, pointing out each outlaw as he named them.

Loomis and Wagner were handcuffed by Marshal Merrell and Deputy Kurtz, jerked unceremoniously to their feet, and ushered out the door to the jail.

Then Marshal Merrell and one of the federal deputies picked Finch up off the table. Merrell said, “Dr. Dane, we’ll lock him up in the jail. You can come and check on him anytime you want.”

The doctor nodded. “I’ll check on him in a little while.”

Dr. Dane then looked at his friend from Denver and said, “Well, Chief, we don’t have a stretcher, but if you’ll help me carry Mr. Barton to my office, I can remove the slug from his shoulder.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

As the two men carried the wounded outlaw leader down the street, a crowd gathered, and the people gawked at the scene.

In the crowd were some of the husbands of the women who had been held captive in the town hall, standing with their arms around their wives. In tears of relief, the wives had told their husbands what had happened in the town hall.

Tharyn Logan saw her husband coming along the street, carrying the bleeding man with the help of Chief Brockman. “Oh, thank You, Lord,” she breathed. “Thank You that Dane is unharmed.”

When Dane and Chief Brockman drew up, Dane said, “Honey, this is an outlaw gang leader who was holding all the
quilting bee women captive in the town hall. I’ll give you the details later, but I had to shoot him. Everything’s all right now. The rest of the gang are in jail.”

“I’m so glad
you
are all right, darling.” Then she smiled at the federal man. “Hello, Chief Brockman. Nice to see you.”