Nellie's New Attitude

by Lynn Donovan

  Nellie rose and prepared everything just as Mrs. Moses had instructed. She sat down on the side of the bed, a cup of water from the barrel by the hearth, and a bowl of the same water and four cloths in hand. She pushed dark wet curls off his fevered brow and rung out a cloth. Laying it on his forehead, she wrung out another and placed it behind his neck.

  His skin looked red, as if he’d been in the sun. As little as Nellie knew about healing a sick person, she knew this was not good. She rushed back to his mother’s book and continued to read. She mentioned putting cool cloths at the person’s underarms and even between his legs.

  Nellie was not going to do that! But she could put some under Timothy’s arms!

  “My traps!” He mumbled. “Momma-bear gonna get them—”

  “Timothy, you are in no shape to fool with your traps!” Nellie growled through clinched teeth.

  “No. I gotta go check ‘em!” He struggled to get out of bed.

  “Look!” Nellie pushed him back under the covers and replaced the fallen cloths. “If I go check your traps, will you please stay in bed?”

  He stopped fighting and stared at her. “You?” He chuckled which caused another round of coughing.

  She lifted her chin. “Yes. And why not?”

  “You don’t know nothing about trapping.” He blinked slowly and licked his dry lips. A bemused grin remained in place. “You don’t even know where my traps are!”

  “Well…” She considered the truth in what he said. “How hard can it be to take a dead animal out of a trap and set it back up?” She thought a minute. “Besides, you said yourself, Grey knows where every single one of your traps are located. She can lead me to them.”

  “Yeah.” He lay back on the pillow. “That might work. But you gotta bring a trap in here to me, and let me teach you how to release the critter so you don’t mess up its hide, and I gotta show you how to reset it.”

  “That’s fair. I’ll be right back.” She rushed out onto the porch between the two cabins. It was freezing cold. The snow was piled high at the corners of both cabins, but blew right through the breezeway, leaving just a thin dusting on the wooden porch. She hadn’t put on a coat or boots and regretted it sorely. Tiptoeing across the porch, she looked in Grey’s cabin and spotted several traps hanging along the wall.

  The mule whinnied upon seeing Nellie enter her cabin and vigorously shook her head, as if she was fussing at Nellie to hurry up and get going. Did she know the traps needed to be checked too?

  Nellie jumped to grab a trap, jerked it away from the wall so it would come off the nail. Chains, leather straps, and metal jaw tumbled down, smacking her in the cheek and ending draped over her shoulder. She ducked and tried to protect herself with her hands, but it hurt just the same.

  Her cheek stung. The thing had cut her. She rushed back into Timothy’s cabin. “So, here’s a trap.” She laid it across his lap. “And when I go out, I’m gonna need to borrow some things.”

  He smiled weakly. “Yeah. My boots, coat, and hat are over there. The gloves are in the pockets. You’ll need the snowshoes too. They’re out in Grey’s cabin.”

  What she thought was a bear skin that he had been cocooned in this morning was a long fur coat. A hat sat on top of his boots which were next to the wardrobe. She could not get over how tidy he lived.

  “And you might want to consider putting on a pair of my longhandles. I got an extra pair in the top of the dresser.” His raspy voice faded, as he turned away from her and coughed into his pillow.

  Her eyes darted to the top of the wardrobe. Sure enough, she saw the neatly folded long underwear. As cold as it was outside, she knew he was right, she’d need to wear as much as she could. “Okay but you gotta promise to lie still and keep your back to me while I’m changing.”

  “I promise.” A fit of coughing took over his body and he turned away from her. She re-wet his cloths, repositioned them on his forehead and neck, and added two to his armpits, then walked away as the cough waned. Maybe with her gone, he’d stop talking and irritating his chest.

  Checking over her shoulder that he was not peeking, she unfastened her corset and laid it inside the wardrobe. Slipping on his long underwear and back into his thick flannel shirt, she topped it with a furry-on-the-inside hide shirt and matching britches. These mountain folk had things figured out for survival up here in the higher altitudes. Tightening his belt to hold the pants on her slender hips, she pursed her lips in appreciation for what she was learning about these people. They weren’t nearly as scary as she had thought. Not if Timothy was any sort of example.

  His mother, as an example, was very well educated on herbal medicines and seasoning. She could probably show Doc a few things. Nellie chuckled to herself and continued getting dressed for her trapping expedition.

  She pulled his boots over the wool socks and tied them tight, even though she could have stuffed a pair of socks in the toe and still had enough room.

  That wasn’t a bad idea! She sat down and did just that. When she stood, the boots felt much better and didn’t flop around on her feet.

  Walking back over to him, she gently touched his shoulder, and he turned to look at her. His eyes looked hazy and his skin was still too hot. “Here. Show me how this trap works.” It had fallen from his lap when he turned over. She handed it to him.

  Swallowing with great effort, he took the trap from her, laying it across his lap. He began her lesson.

  “Now, you release it like this.” He demonstrated what she should do. “You want to be as gentle as possible so you don’t tear the hide any more than the trap might of already done. Especially if it caught the leg rather than the foot.”

  Nellie cringed. “Alright.”

  “Then, here’s how you reset it.” He demonstrated, straining to press the jaws apart, and reset the trap. Would she be strong enough? It looked hard when he did it. She still felt weak from her own ordeal, nearly freezing to death, but she knew if she voiced her concern, he’d be climbing out of this bed and trying to do it himself. And then she’d be stuck alone in this cabin, because he’d probably die out there somewhere and she’d die in here.

  So she kept her thoughts to herself and watched intently. She could do this. Then his words put a cold chill in her heart. “You gotta be careful setting these traps. I have two uncles who lost fingers because it snapped closed on their hands. So, please be careful!”

  She swallowed. She didn’t want to lose anything, especially her fingers.

  “And last, you’ll need this.” He handed her an odd looking hand gun that he lifted from a shelf above his head.

  “What is it?” She stared at the gun without taking it from him. She’d never shot a gun in her life and she wasn’t going to start now.

  “It’s a trapper’s set gun. Our pa helped all us boys ta make our own. It’s got a knife and barrel for shooting. Mine’s probably gonna be easier for you cause we started with an old war pistol.”

  “Why would I want to… shoot anything. Won’t the… animal be dead in the trap?”

  “This is in case they aren’t.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “You’ll want to take my rifle too.”

  Nellie stiffened. She hadn’t considered any of the trapped animals would still be alive or that she’d need a rifle also. Disgust curled her lip as she stared at the little gun. “I-I don’t know how to shoot.”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake. You just point and squeeze this trigger! And if a bear comes at ya, just aim the rifle at her and shoot. She’ll probably run off.” He sighed an exasperated moan and scooted closer to the edge of the bed. “I told you, you don’t know nothing about trapping.” He struggled, kicking the covers away from his feet, and tried to get out of bed.

  “NO! Stop!” She blocked him and shoved him back in. “I can do it. Now stop messing up your cool cloths. This fever’s never gonna go away if you don’t let the cloths do their job.”

  He stilled, staring at her with extreme trepidation in his eyes.
“I don’t want you to get—” The cough raked his chest and he bent over shaking with each lung-ripping wave. “Perhaps… you’re right.” He croaked. “I ain’t got no choice.”

  “Right.” She tucked the covers around him and replaced the cool rags. “Now stop getting out of bed. Just ‘cause I’ve never done nothing like this, don’t mean I can’t. If May Cole can act like a boy…” she shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “Who’s May Cole?”

  “Nobody!” She stood, yanking the gun from him and holding it precariously in her hand. “Just somebody who makes my life miserable… and…” She dropped her eyes to the mattress. “I owe an apology to.”

  “Be careful with that.” He glared at the gun. “I usually put it in the pouch on Grey’s shoulder along with my rifle.”

  “Okay. I’ll do that—”

  “But, don’t shoot my mule!” He huffed a sigh. “Please be careful!”

  “I will!” She tilted her head. “You just lay here and let this fever go away!”

  He nodded, but he really looked weak. Would he even be alive when she got back? Lifting the trap from his side, and carrying the gun, she donned his coat and hat. The gloves bulged in the pockets and she decided to wait until she had the mule ready to go before she slipped them on her hands.

  “How hard can this be anyway?” She muttered as she traipsed over to Grey’s cabin. She felt like she was playing dress up and wearing her daddy’s clothes… and boots.

  “Come on girl.” She pulled the mule’s bridle. “Let’s go check Timothy’s traps. I sure hope you know what I’m doing.”

  Chapter Six

  Nellie hiked the hem of Timothy’s coat and kneed it out of her way as she fought to drag her feet along in the big boots and snowshoes. Moving forward took a lot of effort. He was right about the mule. She seemed to know exactly where she was going. And it was obvious that Timothy had cut branches to make a path to his traps. All Nellie had to do was… keep up with Grey. That was easier said than done. No wonder these mountain people used mules. This one could penetrate the deepest snow bank.

  Grey kept looking back at Nellie and whinnying. It was humiliating to be chastised by such a dumb animal. Nellie’s lungs heaved cold air in and out as clouds of steam billowed from her mouth. Not unlike Grey’s large nostrils.

  Nellie wasn’t fully recovered from nearly freezing to death and this traipsing through the woods was exhausting. But Timothy was not in any shape to be out here doing this. If she wanted to survive, he had to survive. And if he was going to survive, she had to check these darn traps for him. How many did he have anyway? Golly, she wished she had asked that one simple question.

  Grey walked up to a tree and swayed in place. Was there a trap here? Nellie hurried as best she should to go ahead of the mule and look around the tree roots. She didn’t see anything. Kicking the snow back from the trunk, she couldn’t find the trap.

  Grey whinnied. Nellie looked at the mule, and then her eyes saw the trap. A branch had been whittled into a sharp point and stuck in the ground at an angle. It looked just like the other branches around the tree except for the raw point. At the whittled end was a hunk of hide, or something fleshy looking, and the trap. Clever.

  But the trap was empty. Disappointment rose in her chest as she inhaled and pursed her lips. “Alright, let’s move on.”

  Grey moved forward and Nellie followed. Soon Grey halted again. Nellie saw it immediately. An animal hung from the angled branch, the trap still clinging to its foot. It looked stiff and very dead. She sighed with relief that she didn’t have to shoot it.

  Nellie’s heart sped up. She walked up to the suspended animal and tried to take hold of it with the bulky gloves on her hands. She pulled them off and manipulated the trap jaws, like Timothy had showed her, to get the black rodent-looking thing free. Stiff and frozen solid, its foot broke off when the trap opened. The creature lay on top of the snow, hazy-glass-eyed staring up at her.

  “Ewww.” She swallowed and lifted the thing by the other back paw. Nausea lapped at the back of her throat. She swallowed and gingerly carried the thing with one finger and thumb to the leather bag that hung across the mule’s rump.

  Breathing with as much control as she could manage to stay the nausea, she returned to the trap and attempted to reset it. The spring was even stronger than the one Timothy had demonstrated in his cabin. She gritted her teeth and tried a second time, pressing it against her knee.

  Snap! It slammed shut! She screamed! The trap fell into the snow, mocking her. It had just missed her freezing cold fingers. She shook her hand as if it were hurt, then blew into her cupped hands to warm them a little before trying again. Reaching into the hole it made, she lifted the trap and tried again. This time it stayed open. She flipped over the tongue and set it under the till. Gingerly placing the trap on the branch, where an animal had to walk over it to get to the bait, she backed away as if it could spring closed at the slightest movement on her part.

  She rushed over to Grey. “I did it!” She giggled. “Alright, girl. Show me where the next one is.”

  The mule moved forward and Nellie followed. She could do this! A sprig of a plant peeked out of the snow. It looked like one of the plants in Mrs. Moses’s book. “Whoa, girl.” Nellie called to the mule and rushed over to the plant. “This has a root that will help with Timothy’s fever.” She took the odd gun out of Grey’s pouch and twisted the knife away from the barrel. “I’ll dig it up and take it back with us. If he gets worse, I’ll be able to fix that remedy his momma wrote about.”

  Grey heaved a huge sigh but she waited while Nellie moved the snow away from the plant and dug around the stem with Timothy’s knife. Pulling at the stem, she lifted root and stem out of the hard dirt. She looked at the spindly root, admiring that this had medicinal quality that could help Timothy recover. She broke the stem and stuffed the part she wanted to keep into Grey’s rump pouch. “Alright. Let’s move on.”

  The mule trudged forward. After a while, Nellie began to wonder if Grey was lost. Fear flashed in her gut. If Grey was lost, she certainly was lost as well. Looking around, she tried to see if anything looked familiar. But it was all a white canvas of snow and trees. She could hear the river running but that didn’t help. Timothy’s cabin wasn’t next to the river. A strange squeaking sound resonated from ahead. Grey moved toward it.

  Nellie drew in a deep breath. What was Grey leading her to? She considered the two weapons at the mule’s shoulder. Should she get the rifle out and be ready?

  Then she saw it. An animal hung from the branch, caught in the trap, but it was not dead. It struggled and whined, fighting the metal closed on its foot. Nellie’s heart broke into a thousand pieces. “Oh. You poor thing!”

  Timothy said to shoot it if it wasn’t dead. But how could she? It squirmed and fought against the trap, raising up to its foot and chewing at the spot where the trap clamped down on its foot. Tears spring into Nellie’s eyes. “I hate this!”

  She stood still, frozen with fear, and watched the creature struggle. Every effort it made made Nellie’s heart ache even more. But she could also tell it was exhausted and its efforts were slowing down. It hung upside down, surrendering to death, but not yet dead. At last, she knew what she had to do was right. It was suffering. She stepped up to Grey, took out the handgun and removed her right glove. She aimed the weapon and shot the animal. The force of the bullet caused its body to swing. Now, it was dead.

  Tears poured down Nellie’s face as she released the creature from the trap and put it in Grey’s pouch. She reset the trap and moved on in silence. Occasionally, her jerky sobs were the only noise in the woods, other than the crunch of the snow as she and Grey walked through it. This wasn’t exciting anymore.

  Soon, Grey trudged along and Nellie realized they were approaching Timothy’s cabin. They had checked over three dozen traps. About one fourth had an animal. She hurried to walk beside Grey and noticed some dried, round, blossoms peeking out of the snow. “Is… t
hat?” She worked her way over to it and bent to sniff the light brown blossom. “Garlic!”

  Mrs. Franklin had told Nellie about a very special soup that day she’d forced Nellie to stay in the kitchen and learn a thing or two about cooking. It was before her wedding. When she thought she was going to marry Hoyt. Mrs. Franklin’s chicken and garlic soup was famous for healing just about anything that ailed a person. Mrs. F. emphasized how important this recipe was to any new or old bride.

  Turning to look into Grey’s cabin, Nellie suddenly felt a wave of extreme sadness. She’d have to kill yet another animal to make this soup. But if it would help Timothy get well… she’d just have to do it. She lifted her chin and sucked in a quick, resolute breath. She could kill a chicken, for Timothy.

  Nellie dug up the garlic with Timothy’s gun-knife and put several pods in the game bag, then removed the supplies from Grey’s pack. She put everything where she had retrieved it this morning and chuckled when Grey helped herself to the remnants of feed in her trough. Nellie found the mule’s feed and filled the small trough. “Thank you, ole girl.”

  She put the rifle where she’d found it and carried the gun and the game pouch into the cabin to show Timothy what she had done.

  Holding the pouch up, she entered and immediately dropped it on the floor. Timothy was covered in sweat and tossing in his sleep. She ran to his side to touch his face. He was even hotter than before. She ran to the fresh water barrel, filled the bowl and soaked the washcloths, then ran back to put them on is head, neck, and in his arm pits. She still couldn’t bring herself to put a wet cloth between his legs. But Timothy was going to die if she didn’t get this fever down soon. She sucked in a breath, and yanked back the covers.