Flower of My Heart
Lillian Montgomery found the house of her dreams no more than a mile outside of the small town of Martinsville, where she had found work in singing in the saloon. It wasn't her favorite place to work, but at least she could gain some experience. Maybe some day she would be able to go to one of the larger towns or even one of the big cities, perhaps St. Louis, but that was not to happen for some time.
Even though this was a growing state, perhaps in a few years the small western town would see growth beyond its wildest dreams, for now, the only thing keeping the town alive was the mining up in the hills. Most of the mined ore was either copper or coal, which was transported by large wagons to the larger town of Lordsville two hours away. The larger town claimed the nearest railroad, but was not the kind of place you really wanted to live. Martinsville was not much better, but at least the reputation of its residence was not all that bad.
Lillian rose early, just before dawn, and began the process of unpacking her belongings. The property had once been a farm of some kind that had failed. A town had grown up near it when copper had been discovered in the hills. There was a barn out back that she figured would be perfect for storage and, even though she was not a farmer, maybe one cow and a few chickens. It was far too late in the season to begin thinking about planting a garden so the storage space would be ideal.
As Lillian was putting her garden tools away, an unexpected noise caught her attention.
"Who's there?" she called out, her voice trembling slightly.
A man appeared from the shadows and reached toward her.
"Please, help me."
His knees buckled and he fell, face down, near her feet.
At first, Lillian didn't move. She was unsure if the man was going to get up and attack her, fearing that it may have been a trick. She firmly grasped on the hoe and watched to see if the man would move again. She slowly approached him and started when the man pushed himself over onto his back, breathing hard. That was when she spotted the bloodstain covering his left side.
"Oh god, you're hurt," Lillian said with alarm.
She quickly rushed forward and examined the man's wound and found that he had been shot. The bullet had clearly entered through the fleshy part of his left hip and exited through the back. The fact that the bullet was not lodged in the stricken man's body was a blessing. His chances for survival were much higher, assuming she could get the much larger form into the house.
Lillian tugged the man's arms and finally managed to pull him into a sitting position. The stranger seemed to sense her efforts and she noticed that he had tucked his legs under himself to help get on his feet. Lillian was grateful that he was at least conscious enough to know what was happening. It didn't take long to get him settled into the only furnished bedroom in her new home.
Before she could do more, she heard horses coming into the yard. She quickly covered the man's wound with a towel, then a blanket, and closed the door to the bedroom. She would have to handle these new visitors and just hope they didn't stay long.
Lillian opened the door to the front porch and came face to face with five men.
"May I help you?"
"Yeah, we're looking for a fugitive. Have you seen anyone come by here?" One of the men spoke up, the professed leader of the group.
"No, I've only just arrived. I've barely begun unpacking."
The leader on horseback scrutinized the woman carefully.
"There seems to be a large spot of blood on your hand."
"I . . . uh . . . cut myself while opening some crates" Lillian quickly covered her left hand. She realized she must have touched the man's bloodied clothing as she was carrying him into the house. She didn't know why she lied, but instinct drove her not to reveal the truth.
The leader on horseback stared back at her. "Very well, ma'am. If you see anyone, make sure you go straight to the Sheriff's office."
"How will I know who that fugitive might be? I don't want to accuse an innocent man," Lillian asked in her most feminine voice, giving the appearance of innocence.
"He's dressed like a Chinaman. You can't miss him."
"I will be sure to let the Sheriff know if I see anyone fitting that description."
After the men left, Lillian raced to the back of the house to find the man trying to get out of bed.
"What do you think you're doing?" she asked aghast.
"I have put you in danger. I must go."
"You will do nothing of the kind. You will die if that wound is not tended to." Lillian helped the man back into bed. '"ou're also quite feverish. You would not get very far in your condition. Now let me tend that wound."
Lillian went to the kitchen and dug through one of the open crates and found the large pitcher and wash basin. She had just laid in some supplies, including some milk, and remembered her mother bathing a wound that her father had received with linseed oil and milk. Hopefully it would do the trick to keep the wounds from becoming infected. She gathered what she needed and headed back to the bedroom.
"If I am going to help you, I need to know your name. I can't be calling you 'sir or mister' all the time. My name's Lillian Montgomery. You can call me Lilly."
"I am Caine."
Lillian helped Caine off with his shirt and slacks, discovering that the man wore no undergarments. She tried to ignore that fact as she bathed the wound, but she could not help noticing the many scars on Caine's body, especially the two on his forearms. They looked like they were in the shape of animals.
"There is a leather pouch, a bedroll, and my flute in the barn. The pouch contains some herbs that will help stop the bleeding," Caine said, his voice a tight whisper as he tried to let the pain wash through himself.
"I will get it," Lillian said and left to gather Caine's belongings. When she returned, she found that Caine had slipped into a fever-induced sleep. She searched through the brown leather pouch and found a smaller pouch inside. She opened this and poured some of the herbs into her hand. At first she didn't know what she should do with them. The scent of the herbs rose to meet her nose and one of them produced a memory that she had nearly forgotten.
**** Flashback****
Grandmother Montgomery coaxed young Lillian to come forward.
"Come my child. You should know this in case it is needed."
Lillian stared wide-eyed at the older woman. She had always felt a little frightened by her grandmother. There were things about her that were not understood by many.
"Here." The old lady took Lillian's hand and placed in it a handful of crumbled dried leaves and flowers.
"What is it?" Lillian asked.
"Smell it," the old woman instructed.
The little girl did as her grandmother told her.
"Now taste it."
The little girl put some of the dried leaves into her mouth and made a face. The plant had a nasty bitter taste.
"You must remember that taste and smell." The old woman brought forth a blooming plant. "The leaves and flowers that you have in your hand used to be this plant. It is called Yarrow. It is used to help wounds to heal. The herb is crushed and placed over the wound. A bandaged is wrapped around to keep the herbs in place. Remember how this plant looks. It may save the life of someone who is injured who has come to you for aid."
****End of Flashback****
As the memory faded, Lillian rushed back to the stricken man. She bathed the wound with the linseed and milk until she was sure there would be no infection, and then placed the herbs on both of the wounds. She tried to cover them with a bandage but found it difficult to get the bandage around the man's hips as he laid back on the bed. She struggled for a few minutes but soon succeeded. She really did not know if the herbs would help heal the wound. She only had her grandmother's word that they would, but she had never seen an actual healing take place. For now, she could only wait, continue to keep the man's fevered body cool, and pray that the man would not die.
End of Part 1
Alisa Joaquin Copyright@2000.
This story cannot be reprinted or sold in any other form without strict permission from
the author. It is being distributed here solely for your enjoyment.
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