Free Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03] by Wind of Promise

path he found a maze of boulders and a dense outgrowth of brush. He got off his horse and sat down on a boulder and waited until the pain let up a bit. The warm sun felt good on his back. He sat there, hunched over, and wondered if Vanessa realized she had come to within an inch of getting him killed. His anger at her disregard for his orders had been eating at him all morning. If he had batted an eyelash, the breed would have drawn on him, with the advantage of being on his feet. John Wisner was a trail-wise old wolf, Kain thought. He had known instinctively that John would watch the other two when it seemed the fight would come down to Kain and the breed. Vanessa had set the play in motion and the fat man’s luck ran out.
    Thoughts of Vanessa were suddenly driven from his mind as his stomach convulsed again. Kain had never had a serious illness in his life and had always been able to rely on his strength. He was not accustomed to a feeling of weakness and he could do without it now. He had a long way to travel. The pain twisting his vitals caused the sweat to roll from his face and saliva to flood his mouth. He sat very still, breathing hoarsely, fighting the sickness in his stomach.
    A jolting pain seized him and doubled him up. He fell to his knees and retched violently. Frightened by the terrible pain, he stayed there, his head hanging, not caring that moans were coming from his lips. When he was finally able to open his eyes, he saw blood mingled with his vomit.
    Fear of a different kind seeped into his mind. He remembered the Arizona town where he had been a deputy, and the sheriff who had a cancer in his stomach. He had suffered terribly and vomited blood. Kain broke out in a cold sweat. Christ almighty! Would it be his fate to die a little bit each day, screaming his life away in agony as that man had done? He was frightened now—more frightened than he’d ever been in his life. The last thing he wanted was a long, painful death out here where no one knew him or cared.
    Kain sat quietly for a long while, and the gnawing in his stomach lessened to just an uncomfortable feeling. He thought of the doctor in Kansas City who had examined him, left him waiting for fifteen minutes, then invited him into his brand-new office to tell him he had worms and sell him a bottle of worm medicine. Maybe he knew that he had a cancer and just didn’t have the nerve to tell him. No, he thought, it was more than likely the young doctor hadn’t known what ailed him, but thought he had to tell him something in order to collect his fee.
    He considered going back East to see another doctor but then thought of the sheriff who had wasted his strength traveling to see every doctor within five hundred miles. Some of the doctors had told him his stomach trouble was caused by drinking alkaline water and a few said that someone was poisoning him. One even said that his kidneys were leaking into his intestines and sold him ten bottles of kidney medicine. Finally, an army doctor told him he had cancer which was eating a hole through his stomach and that there was nothing he or any other doctor could do for him. He was going to die.
    Hours passed and Kain became partly reconciled to what was happening to him. He knew with certainty that he would not put himself through the torture the sheriff had endured by going from doctor to doctor. He remembered, with clarity, everything the sheriff had told him about his illness. The symptoms the sheriff described were exactly the same as his own. He wondered how much time he had. Weeks? Months?
    He was reasonably sure there would be time to get to Junction City. He would see Cooper and Griffin and do what had to be done about The House, and the land. One thing was sure: he’d see to it that Della or Clayhill wouldn’t get their hands on it.
    Della would be glad to know he was no longer rich. The last time he had seen her she had cursed him for not giving her money for a trip to Europe. She said she was