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“Well, that’s not saying much. You won’t get out of bed for—”
The man’s breath rattled out of his throat, and the doc sighed and closed the man’s eyes. “He’s gone.”
“Damn,” Gray said, standing up. “I didn’t get much out of him.”
Doc glared at him. “That tends to happen when you shoot people in the stomach.”
Gray cocked an eyebrow. “Should I have let him shoot me? Or maybe Tom here if his shot had gone wide?”
Doc bowed his head and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Of course not. But I don’t appreciate you using me as a threat of torture to get your answers.”
“Look at him, Doc,” Gray said, pointing down at the man. “Be honest with yourself. Could you have saved him?”
Doc stared, his face set in hard angles. “No.”
“And trying would have only caused him a helluva lot of pain and suffering.”
Doc looked like he really didn’t want to agree, but finally he said, “Most likely.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I wouldn’t have let you try, even if he hadn’t answered me,” Gray said. “I’ve seen enough wounds like that in my lifetime to know he only had a few minutes left. But I needed answers and if making a few exaggerated threats will get them for me, then so be it.”
Doc’s jaw popped as he stared down at the man. Then his shoulders sagged, and he blew out a breath. “My apologies.” He took a deep breath. “It just goes against everything I am to not try and help.”
“I get that. It’s nothin’ to apologize for. But I’m not goin’ to apologize, either, for doin’ what’s necessary.”
The doc gave him a jerky nod. “Do we know who sent him? Or why?”
Gray shook his head. “He didn’t say.”
“You don’t seem very worried,” Mercy said.
“I’m not.”
She folded her arms across her chest in a huff. “How can you not be worried that someone just tried to kill you?”
He shrugged. “I’m a gunfighter. People are usually trying to kill me.”
She looked like she was about to argue with him about his blasé attitude, which was kind of touching, but he held a hand up to stop her before she could get started, or they’d be there all day.
“I’m also not too terribly worried because I’m pretty sure we already know who is behind this.”
Mercy’s forehead furrowed. “Josiah.”
Gray nodded. “He’s backed down on the public attempts to get your land. We knew he was plotting something; we haven’t seen him since the last time he showed up at your place. But you knew he hadn’t given up.”
Mercy sighed. “I know. I’d hoped his threats were empty. But…” She glanced down at the dead man at their feet. “What do we do with him?” she asked, wrapping an arm around Gray’s waist.
He pulled her close and kissed her temple.
Preacher stepped forward. “Doc and I will handle it. We can bury him at the back of the churchyard.”
Gray glanced at Doc for confirmation, and when he gave Gray a sharp nod, Gray nodded to both of them. Then he paused, frowning slightly.
“Don’t bury him just yet. Wrap him up good and stick him out of the way. I have another idea.”
“What idea?” Mercy asked.
“Nothin’ you want to know about, I’m sure,” Gray said.
