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then wrapped it anew.
    Clint rolled the sleeve down and clumsily buttoned it.
    â€œHow would you feel about staying indoors until there’s some change?” the doctor asked.
    â€œThat would attract attention,” Clint said. “The word would go out that the Gunsmith was holed up in a hotel in Big Rock, Arizona. That would bring gunnies from all over the country, and they’d stand in line for a chance to kill me.”
    â€œI suppose you know your world best,” the doctor said. “What about sending for help?”
    â€œIf I sent such a telegram, word would get out,” Clint said.
    â€œBut you have friends who would help, I’m sure,” the doctor said.
    Clint thought about Bat Masterson and Wyatt Earp, who would always have his back. Also Luke Short, Neil Brown, Heck Thomas, Jim West . . . there were a handful of men he knew could watch his back. But he was used to helping himself, even in a position like this.
    Well, actually, he’d never been in this position before. He’d always been able to count on his gun arm to get him out of any jam.
    Only this time, his gun arm was useless.
    â€œI’ll have to think about it,” he said. “A message like that would have to be sent in such a way that it couldn’t be intercepted.”
    â€œThat means you’d have to send it with someone you trust.”
    â€œAnd I don’t see anyone in town who fits that description.”
    â€œWhat about one of the ladies?”
    â€œI just met them yesterday, Doc,” Clint said. “And they’re women, not gunmen. I’d never put them in that kind of danger.”
    â€œWell,” the doctor said, standing up and closing his big black bag, “it certainly sounds like you’re describing a situation where you’re entirely on your own.”
    â€œSure looks that way, Doc.”

TWELVE
    After the doctor left, Clint paced his room, replaying the doctor’s suggestion. Stay in this room until there was some change? What if that didn’t happen? What if he never got the use of his right hand back?
    Well, he could stay in the room and practice his cross draw, and venture out only when he was sure he could defend himself. But how long would that take? Word would still get out that he was holed up in a hotel room following an injury. What would gunmen assume from that? They’d correctly assume that something was wrong.
    He had to go out.
    As he made that decision, there was a knock at the door. He drew his gun with his left hand and opened the door.
    â€œGood morning,” Rosemary said. “Can I come in?”
    â€œActually,” he said, sliding the gun back into the holster, “I was just coming out.”
    â€œUm, do you think that’s wise?” she asked.
    â€œI was already out,” he said. “I went to see my horse, and to check on your wagon.”
    â€œOh? And how is the wagon?”
    He stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him. “Your wagon is ready to go. You can ride out of town at any time.”
    â€œI think I’d like to stay a while,” she said.
    â€œAnd what about the others?”
    â€œOh, they’re pretty much been looking at me as the leader since we left St. Louis,” she said.
    â€œAnd where are the rest of the ladies now?”
    â€œHaving breakfast somewhere.”
    â€œWhat about your breakfast?”
    â€œWell, I thought I might have that with you, but since you were up early . . .”
    â€œI could have some more coffee,” he said. “The dining room here has a very good breakfast.”
    â€œWell, since I wasn’t around to cut your meat for you, I’d guess you had something you’d be able to cut with your left hand. Flapjacks? Or something you didn’t have to cut? Oatmeal?”
    â€œFlapjacks.”
    â€œWould you mind if I had steak and eggs?”
    â€œNot at all,” he said. “It would be my