Lee grabbed her by her hair and pulled her toward him now. "It doesn't matter why, what matters is that he did it."
"I don't believe it." She shouted, and he pulled her hair more.
"My brother was just a kid, on the wrong side of the law, but just a kid. He helped to rob a bank. The Sheriff came after him. Johnny shot at him and killed him. Then Dal stood up, while my brother stared at the dead man and killed him dead. Without warning or anything, just shot him dead. He was just seventeen!"
Bonnie remembered Dal telling her he had quit being a deputy once when a Sheriff was killed. Could that have been when it happened? It didn't matter. The kid was in the wrong. Couldn't Lee face that fact?
"I figure I owe him and I'm going to kill you…so he knows how it feels to lose someone he loves."
"He'll come after you. And you'll be a dead man."
Lee laughed. "He's not that good."
"This ain't gonna hurt none at all." Lee laughed as he jerked her around by the hair of the head once more and she winced.
"No, but this will mister!" Becky cried as she aimed the shotgun at him. He had his back to her and Lee tensed and turned around to see who was holding a gun on him.
"Well, what in the hell have we got here. A pint size kid with a gun." Lee laughed.
"Don't matter the size, I know how to pull the trigger." She threatened. "At this range, I can do a lot of damage."
Becky's threat sounded bold, but her determination to do Lee in had him backing away.
Bonnie got away from him and went toward Becky. In a flash, she grabbed the gun and aimed it at Lee.
"Now, I know how to use it. So back off. Know this, sometimes there's a good reason to kill. It doesn't matter how old your brother was, it matters that he was in the wrong."
"What would you know about it?"
"I don't. But I know my husband. He walked away from the law himself that day and never looked back. I'm sure he wasn't proud of having to kill a kid. Now…I want you to get off this property and don't you dare come back." Bonnie said, her face was so flushed, her hair mussed, but she held the gun steady. "I'm not telling you again. You are trespassing."
Lee grunted. "Alright little lady. You win this time, but I'll get you before long. You just wait. You better look around every corner, in every dark spot, because one of these day's I'll be there. And Dal Odom will get his comeuppance. You'll see."
"Get off my land…" She felt hysteria building inside her, but she controlled it.
"Sure…for now!"
Lee climbed on his horse and rode off without looking back.
Bonnie was shaking so bad she nearly dropped the gun on her foot.
"Who was that?" Becky asked breathlessly, coming up to hug her.
"Lee Summers. He's the one that beat Dal almost to death with a whip. He's goading him into some kind of showdown on account of his brother. So Becky." Bonnie gasped as she thought of it. "You and I can't say a word about this. To Dal or anyone, understand. Dal would take out after him and probably get himself killed. I couldn't bear that. So please…don't say a word about this to them."
Becky nodded real slow. "I understand. Not a word."
"Good. Lee thinks he's started something. But if we don't tell anyone, then there will be no fight."
"I was going to shoot him!" Becky almost shouted, her hands shaking now.
Bonnie looked down at her and pulled her against her. "I'm glad you didn't. You don't need to be shooting anyone."
"But he was…you know what he was gonna do?"
"Yes, honey, I know. But let's not talk of this again. Please!"
"Alright. I won't. But if he ever comes again, I will shoot him." Becky vowed. "I won't ask what he's doing here, I won't think, I'll just pull the trigger."
Bonnie stared at her for a moment then broke into a chuckle. "I think you mean that."
"I was scared. 'Cause I knew I'd go to jail if I pulled the trigger. But I wasn't going to let him hurt you."
"I know that darlin'. I thank you for it too. Let's put this gun away and never speak of it again."
Becky nodded, but she watched Lee ride off until she couldn't see him anymore.
"Come on, let's go make the boys a pie." Bonnie encouraged her. Fear of Dal learning about this from Lee scared her witless too. But she wouldn't do anything to get Dal riled up. She knew he'd protect her until death. "Until death do you part." She remembered her vows. "And that's a long, long ways away." She mumbled under her breath.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dal mended the roof and with Daniel by his side they were able to get the homestead ready for the winter.
Bonnie was proud of them. More than that, she felt because of Lee, she understood her husband better now.
She didn't bother looking behind every dark spot or corner. She didn't worry about Lee.
At night, Dal would hold her in his arms, and they would talk about plans for the future and what they wanted to accomplish. But most of all, they would confirm their love for each other, building a strong relationship. Life was good.
With winter, though, came the sicknesses. Becky came down with a severe cough.
Bonnie began doctoring her as well as she could but when Dal saw that things weren't working he sought out others in town who could help. He found an old lady at the edge of town that had been a mid-wife for many years and talked to her.
Her name was Sofia and some said she was a gypsy, others thought her a witch. But Sofia had cured many during a plague of disease and Dal wanted to know what she knew.
The old house where she lived looked spooky and uncared for, but Dal ignored that. He was desperate to find something that would help Becky.
He knocked on the door.
Nothing happened.
He knocked again, and he heard the tiny voice of an old woman beckon him.
Dal turned the door knob and walked in the house.
He noticed the cobwebs hanging from the corners of her house. He noticed sparse furniture. And then he saw her there by the fire.
She was indeed as his friend had described her, an old woman, probably in her nineties, wrinkled beyond belief. She had no teeth, and her lips had grown inward. She neither smiled nor frowned, she just kept rocking in her chair and warming herself by the fire.
"What do you want?" She finally asked him when he came to stand in front of her.
Out of respect for her age, Dal bent to her level on his knee and stared into clear blue eyes that sparkled with life. He removed his hat and set it on the floor beside her chair.
"I'm told you can cure illnesses."
She stared at him a long time. Her nimble fingers were tapping the rocking chair.
"Do you know who I am?" She glanced over her shoulder at him.
"Yes ma'am, you're the Widow Harrow."
"And do you also know they call me a witch?" Her eyes narrowed on him as if to scare him.
"I've heard. But I don't believe in witches." Dal proclaimed.
"No?" She looked surprised and turned her head in question.
"I know of many remedies, this is true. But that does not make me a witch." She said with sarcasm.
"No ma'am it doesn't. It makes you wise."
"Are you mocking me, young man?" She asked.
"No…I've come for help. I had no choice. You are the only one I know of that might be able to help me. And I'm not too proud to ask."
"Who is sick?" She asked staring into his face.
"Our little Becky."
"A little girl?"
"Becky's only six years old. I'm desperate to find a cure for her. She has the whooping cough."
The old woman nodded. Directly she spit into a spittoon by her chair and then she folded her lips once more and stared into his eyes.
"You speak the truth…so I will tell you."
The old woman looked at him and folded her lips. "You aren't afraid of me?" She asked in an aged voice.
"No ma'am. I'm not." Dal frowned.
"Good
! Now you write this down and you give it to her for at least a good week."
"Yes ma'am. Mix a glass of rum, and about half of that amount of spirits of turpentine, shake it well. Lay the child near the fire, but not too close…as it could cause a burn and rub it on the neck and chin, morning and night."
"That's all?"
"That's it." The old woman nodded.
Dal had expected something more complicated, but this simple remedy seemed unlikely to do the trick. He frowned at her.
"You don't believe me?" She asked rocking back in her chair and eyeing him.
"I don't know. It seems so simple." Dal muttered.
"The trick is not to get her too close to the fire as it will combust and burn her." The old woman chuckled.
He stared at her. "Alright, I will try it. And…I thank you."
The old woman stared at him. "What is your name?"
"Dal Odom ma'am, I'm sorry. I should have introduced myself when I came in."
"You live around here?" She asked.
"About twenty miles to the west."
"You got a family?"
"Yes ma'am. There's my wife, Bonnie, her brothers, and sister."
"No babies of your own?"
"Not yet." He smiled down into her face. He was beginning to like this old woman. She had a warmth deep down inside her that radiated as her eyes spoke louder than any words.
"You will have. Many babies. You come back, when the child is well, and I'll write down more remedies for you to follow. A man with many children must know these things or he could lose them." She warned.
"Then I'll come back. Thank you for sharing this with me. I'm at my wits end. Bonnie and I have tried everything we knew to help her."
"She'll heal. But you must hurry and begin the treatment. Run along now. I need my rest. But come back and I'll give you more remedies that you are going to need in your lifetime."
"I will, and thank you." He bent down and kissed her on the forehead.
She giggled and smiled into his face. "I ain't been kissed in years."
"Can I do anything for you?" He asked before leaving.
"Just get the child well. That's payment enough." She said and closed her eyes.
Dal put his hat on and turned to leave. He turned back to look at her as he opened the door. "I'll be back."
She waved at him and he left.
It was a long ride home and he had many thoughts running through his head about the old woman and how the town had turned their backs on her. He wondered if there was something he could do to help her. For her house was a mess, and she was so thin. He wondered if she ever got out of the chair. If this healed Becky, he'd be back to see her, that was for certain.
When he arrived home, Bonnie was fretting. "She's not any better. I’m scared Dal."
He had stopped off at the local general store and bought the turpentine, then went to the saloon and got the last bottle of rum they had. He brought them in the house and he told Bonnie how to mix it.
"Where did you go?" She asked as she began mixing the concoction.
"I went to see the Widow Harrow." He said.
"The witch?" Bonnie's eyes widened.
Dal shook his head. "She's not a witch. She's just an old lady who has lived a long time and been through a lot of miseries. She knows things we don't. She said if it worked to come see her again. And I promised I would."
"But…Dal!" Bonnie's mouth hung open.
"Bonnie, the town is wrong about her. She is old, and she does look like what one would call a witch, but once I looked into her eyes, I saw her heart Bonnie. She's not a witch. There is no such thing as a witch. We've tried everything else, this won't hurt…"
Bonnie looked doubtful, but she trusted Dal completely. She finished shaking the two ingredients and she went into the bedroom to see Becky.
Becky was coughing up a storm, and that whooping sound scared Bonnie. "I've got something, but we must go into the other room where the fire is and warm you. Okay?"
Becky nodded.
He picked her up and carried her into the kitchen where the fire heated the house.
He made her a pallet on the floor and Bonnie began to rub the concoction into her chest and on her chin.
Becky squirmed from the odor, but finally she settled out and began to rest.
It was a long and frosty night and Bonnie sat in the rocking chair over her.
The boys came in and held their nose, "What's that smell?" Samuel asked.
"It's a cure for Becky," Dal answered. "Did you chip the ice so the horse and mule could get water like I told you?"
"Yep…we did." Martin beamed, proud of his small feat.
"Good. Where's Daniel?" Bonnie asked.
"He's spreading the hay, he'll be in directly he said," Samuel answered. "Why is she laying in here?"
"So to keep her warm."
"Oh…"
But when Daniel came in, he was full of questions when he saw his sister lying on the floor near the fire.
"Where'd you get that concoction?" he asked.
"The Widow Harrow." Dal said lowly.
"The Widow…she's a witch…she'll kill Becky. You can't give her that…" Daniel protested.
But Dal stopped him from trying to wipe Becky's chin. "We have to try it. We've tried everything else."
Martin came in and he began to cough. Bonnie heard him and felt his head. "You have a fever. Lie down by Becky. I'll get the medicine."
"I ain't sick…" he wiped his forehead.
"I'm afraid you are…" Bonnie cried.
They looked at each other. "Let's have a little faith here, honey." Dal encouraged.
"Yeah…" Bonnie leaned on Dal.
Before the week was out, three of them had the Whooping Cough, Becky, Martin, and Samuel. Bonnie continued doctoring them. Becky was better now, able to sit up, feed herself and actually get up. Martin began to respond to. But the medicine was getting low. Dal knew that the local saloon had no more rum. He'd have to ride to another town before he could get any.
"I won't be gone long. Just try to keep doctoring them.
"Yes…yes, I will." Bonnie nodded her face full of emotions.
"I'll get back as soon as I can."
"Be careful, there's a lot of ice out there." Bonnie cried.
"I know. And I will. Stop worrying."
Dal rode as fast and as hard as the weather would allow. In an hour, he reached Summit, and he went straight to the saloon. They had no rum.
He was beginning to panic.
But an ole timer heard what he needed and came up to him. "You need rum?"
"Yes…do you know where I could get some?"
"Sure…follow me. I'll take you." The man said, swallowing his glass of whiskey.
Dal didn't know the man. He didn't know if he could be trusted, but he was desperate to find more rum.
When they were a couple miles out of town, the old man wasn't keeping up with him. He would turn around just to see if he were still there. So when a rope flew around his chest, he whipped about.
The old man tightened the rope and laughed.
Once Dal was on the ground, he went over, grabbed all his cash, his watch, and looked at him. "I'm right sorry about this young feller, but I'm in need of cash right now."
He gun butted him and left him there, in the cold. But the worse thing he did, was take Dal's horse.
It was at least an hour before Dal woke up. His head was pounding, and blood trickled from his forehead.
He wiped the blood away and looked about him.
The old man had taken the rope off of him and there was no sign of him anywhere.
Dal cursed under his breath, trying to get a gauge on which way to go.
He was wandering about when a stranger approached on horseback.
"Say, what you doing out here without a horse, mister." The man asked.
"I've got to find some rum and get home…" Dal said, knowing full well the man wouldn't understand that statement.
/> "Rum…you a drunk or something?"
"No…my kids, they are sick with the whooping cough. I have to have rum to help them. But we have none in Ashville."
"Ashville huh? That's nearly fifty miles from here." The man said.
"I know I was robbed and left here, by a man that said he'd help me…"
"You don't say." The big man on the horse dismounted and looked Dal over. "Let's get that head bandaged a little."
The man took off his handkerchief and tied it around Dal's head. "You say you need rum to get them well?"
"Yes sir."
"Hard Times is just over the hill. Let's see if we can get some there." The man said helping him on his horse.
"Thank you…" Dal said weakly. "He wasn't sure he could trust this man either, but there was something in the way he acted and spoke that created a tiny thread of trust. Besides, Dal was helpless right now. He had to trust someone.
Less than an hour later, they were standing in the saloon at Hard Times. The bartender looked at them when they asked for rum.
"I got some out back, be back in a minute." The man said and disappeared out the back door.
In a few minutes, he returned with a bottle of rum. "Will this be enough?"
"I hope so. Maybe I should get two?"
The bartender frowned and went back out. When he came back, he told him it would be four bits. But Dal had no money. The other man had robbed him. He looked at the man with a plea. "Mister, I know I’m a stranger to you. I know you may not trust me…but I got sick kids at home that need this…"
"You ain't got the money?" The bartender seemed to roar. "It figures."
He grabbed his head as the roar from the barkeep hurt his head.
The other man, the one that helped him stepped up to the bar and paid for the rum.
"Come on, son. Let's get this to those kids." He said in a gruff voice as he eyed the bartender.
Dal was so shocked that the man would pay for the rum, without even knowing him. He had a lump in his throat as he thanked him.
"I don't have much money, but my wife is a dandy cook and she'll be glad to fix you a big meal."
"She can cook, huh?" The man smiled. "Well, that sounds pretty good. By the way, my name is Matthew Walker, what's yours?"
Brides of the West-Part One Page 19
