"How come you know they need help?"
"The headmistress there is an old friend of my sponsor."
Jimmy's eyes widened and he gulped down a mouthful of beans. "You have a sponsor? What’s a sponsor exactly?”
Rebekah slipped her bare feet beneath the woolen blanket as she laid down. “Enough questions for one night, just Jimmy. Let’s get some sleep before dawn."
She heard a soft snore and realized it was her own.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Rebekah awoke before Jimmy, which was disturbing considering he wasn't supposed to be asleep. But he was young yet.
Sleeping on a hard floor didn't come easier with age. Rebekah stretched gingerly and pushed herself to her feet. The floor had felt better than the chair and once she stretched a few more times, she found her back was less painful than she thought it would be after getting caught in a flash flood. Alignment did wonders for the body, as it had with Kurt Baxter.
Rebekah didn't straighten her makeshift bed so as not to disturb Jimmy, who was sprawled on the cot, snoring. He was still a growing boy who needed regular food and sleep.
Rebekah moved across the dirt floor of the dugout and out the front door into the blue-gray dawn of morning. Pulling the brown coat tighter around her in the chilly morning, she took a brisk walk, working out the kinks in her muscles and allowing the snap of cold air to awaken her fully.
Soon, she headed back toward the dugout but halted, her breath leaving her.
The sun peeked over the eastern rim of the canyon behind her, bathing the Palo Duro in colors Rebekah had never seen before. Russet reds lined with dusty golds ignited a feeling in her being she hadn't experienced in some time. Natural wonder and beauty weren’t on her usual route through cities and shanty towns where she helped the less fortunate.
In that moment, she felt like an unfortunate for having never beheld this sight. A song rose in her heart. It was like a familiar tune, but one she'd forgotten the words to.
She stood in awe as the sun made incremental moves at a great distance to change the sight before her each passing moment. Royal purple topped the rim, then tinted the multihued layers under the bluing sky. A red-tailed hawk swooped through the canyon, its high call echoing up to her. The sandstone formations before her moved with the rhythm of her heart’s song, a symphony of sight and sound.
A tear rolled down Rebekah's cheek, jolting her from the mesmerizing scene. She wiped it away and headed for the dugout, understanding why many peoples and cultures were drawn to this harsh land.
Inside, Jimmy was still asleep. But it was daylight and time to get a move on. She considered the best way to wake him without him coming up with fists swinging in case that was his habit from his days of growing up in the swamps of Florida. Wherever had he gotten such a tall tale?
Rebekah shook his shoulder, prepared to spring back if she needed to. But Jimmy groaned and rolled to his other side, his sandy hair flowing over his eyes.
"Jimmy?" She poked him in the back. "Just Jimmy, if you don't get out of that bed now, I'm going to eat your last can of beans."
Though she meant it teasingly, Rebekah was surprised when Jimmy literally bounced off the cot and landed on his feet, his long fingers raking his hair back out of his eyes. He winced and grabbed his shoulder. “Aw now, Doc, you wouldn't do that to an invalid, would you?"
"Only if that invalid is in the habit of playing possum."
They divided the last can of Jimmy’s beans and Rebekah examined his shoulder again before announcing him fit for their hike. When she asked him how long it would take, he responded by launching into a long narrative on the logistics of the canyon, how it was eight hundred feet deep and stretch six miles across in most places.
She warned him to get to the point, and he concluded with, "I reckon it depends on how big of a circle we want to make, which depends on how scared you are of Clem Baxter."
Rebekah gave him a look that made him wave his hands in front of him. “Never mind. It's too bad Clem doesn't realize how scared he should be of you."
"Let's just get out of this canyon, shall we?"
"You sure talk fancy, Miss Rebekah. I like it."
Jimmy still had his six gun and carried Rebekah’s medical bag. She flipped her hair up under the hat he had given her at the ranch to keep it out of the way during the hike, and chose to wear the large brown coat for the morning. Once the day warmed, she’d remove it, but for now, wearing was easier than carrying it.
Jimmy led the way down to the canyon floor from where they were midway up the east wall. Canyon City lay to the west. They were on the wrong side.
He kept looking around, observing their surroundings for danger. Namely, Clem and Van Baxter.
Would those two really bother hunting them down with two injured brothers back at the ranch house? Rebekah had no doubt they would. But she trusted Jimmy's instincts as they wove their way down the deeply worn cattle trail.
They came to the creek again, which Jimmy called Palo Duro Creek. He said it flowed to the Prairie Dog Town Fork of the Red River in the canyon. Traces of the flash flood was evident in the fresh debris pushed along the edges of the creek. With the intensity of the sun bearing down on them already, Rebekah knew that in a few days, the tumble of mesquite and juniper branches would look as though they had been baked there for decades.
They crossed the high creek much further down than they’d been last night, and headed up the other side. Rebekah took care of where she stepped to avoid sharp-edged rock on her bare feet. Jimmy topped the edge before her and turned, reaching down to help her the rest of the way.
She’d just clenched his hand when the report of a rifle echoed through the canyon.
The bullet struck a rock between them, splintering it mere inches from Rebekah. She yanked on Jimmy's hand, pulling him down into the creek bed. There was no place to hide above and a quick glance around told her there was no place to hide below either.
Jimmy released her hand and went for his gun, but she grabbed his forearm and held him still.
"If they had wanted to shoot us, they would have."
Jimmy, his hand on the gun, glanced around wildly, shifting so that he was between her and the direction the shot came from. As they hunched on the sloped wall of the creek bed, Rebekah glanced over his shoulder and spotted a face half hidden behind one of the rocks closer to the canyon wall. Her eyes did a sweep to see there were several faces. None of them belong to Clem or Van.
A voice shouted, “Throw your gun away!"
Jimmy's head jerked in that direction and Rebekah caught a glimpse of his face that told him he recognized the voice.
“It’s the Lowells.”
Chapter Twelve
“Do as they say." Rebekah spoke quietly.
Jimmy glanced at her, eyes wide. She shook her head.
“We wouldn't stand a chance in a gun fight in the open like this. It's time to talk."
Jimmy sighed and slowly withdrew his six gun by the butt and gave it a little toss. It was within grabbing range if they needed it, and he had her medical bag by his feet.
"Hands up!"
Jimmy straightened awkwardly, keeping his balance on the slope, hands raised. Rebekah mimicked him, though she was mostly hidden by Jimmy. She glanced behind her to see yet more faces. The faces turned into bodies. She and Jimmy were soon surrounded by a dozen men with Winchesters, worn jackets and hats, and tired eyes.
She identified the leader as he pushed closer to them by three steps. His face was set in a hard line, as unbending and unforgiving as the granite rock he stood by.
"You two fellows from the Baxter Ranch?"
Jimmy shifted, hands still up. “You’re Sam Lowell, ain’t you? I was working—”
“They’re from the Baxters, all right!”
This came from a younger man who stood a few feet to the left of the leader. He glanced at the leader and said confidently, "I seen this one with those stinking Baxters when they came to run
us off that time you got in a fight with Clem.”
Jimmy quickly said, “The Baxters didn't have a right to—”
“Shut up,” the leader, Sam Lowell, said, his Winchester aimed at Jimmy's chest. "If you rode with them, you're as guilty for what they did as any. My brother was killed in that rockslide."
"Enough talk!" This from a man somewhere behind Rebekah. "I say we hang them both right now."
The words were so outrageous, Rebekah froze in disbelief when Sam Lowell nodded.
"Get some rope."
Rebekah sensed Jimmy coil and prepare to spring for his gun. She grabbed the back of his collar, choking him when he shifted forward.
"They won’t hang us, but they will shoot you dead," she said quietly.
Hands seized her from behind, yanking her up and onto the ground above the creek. Three other men converged on Jimmy. He fought them as they dragged him up and toward a sturdy old willow tree, the only thing with suitable height to hang someone from.
One of the men had Rebekah by the arm. He slung her around and to the ground. She hit hard, her hat flying off and her hair falling down over her shoulders and face.
The canyon went silent. Rebekah pushed herself up and turned to face where Sam Lowell had come through the creek and stood 20 feet from her, mouth agape.
She said, "While I deeply regret the death of your brother, that does not give you leave to lynch a woman who was held captive at the Baxter Ranch.”
Sam Lowell took another step toward her, his surprise turning to a scowl.
"Who are you?"
“Dr. Rebekah LaRoche, known in some parts as Doc Beck.”
She pointed at Jimmy, who was frozen with two men latched onto him from each side. "This young man used to work for the Baxters. That changed the night he helped me escape. Please release him. He’s already injured.”
Sam Lowell looked between her and Jimmy, then around at the men who waited for his next command. She could tell they respected him, unlike Clem with his brothers. He looked back to the man holding Jimmy and nodded. They released Jimmy and stepped away. The boy rubbed his sore shoulder and gave Rebekah a look that said, I'm okay.
Sam Lowell approached her, Winchester still gripped with two hands, ready to turn and fire if needed.
"You say you're a doctor? We got a hurt man back at the settlement. Let's go."
Rebekah didn't move. "I'll treat him on your word that the boy and I will be released afterwards."
Lowell flicked a glance at Jimmy, and she could see the hatred smoldering in his eyes.
"You take care of Billy, and we'll talk about it."
"Nothing doing. I want your word."
Sam Lowell stared her down, then nodded. "You have my word."
Chapter Thirteen
It wasn’t a long walk to the section on the west wall where the Lowells had established a home place. Surrounded on three sides by pinnacles and a mesa, it was like pulling on a glove for protection.
Rebekah scanned the walls as they entered, spotting more faces tucked in various points of the rocks, keeping watch. If the Baxters rode into this place, they were as good as dead.
A host of casitas—small adobe houses—were scattered around in a pattern that spoke of the people that once lived there. The Lowells had repaired damaged structures and built corrals for their sheep. And it wasn't this one family alone. By her estimate, Rebekah guessed about 40 people were turning this cut out of the canyon into a community. There was access to the rim for trips into town for supplies. It could be easily defended, and held enough resources to make it a home.
As they walked through the center of the dwellings, Rebekah asked Jimmy, “Is this the spot the Baxters and Lowells are fighting over?"
He had her bag in his left hand. "No, ma'am. There's another section about a quarter of a mile from here, on around Timber Mesa. It has a spring and lots of blue grama and buffalo grass. The Lowells want to run their sheep there during the spring. The Baxters were going to use it for their cattle. But they lost half their herd from disease over the winter. They still claim that section."
Rebekah wasn't interested in asking who the ownership truly belonged to. People had been battling through this canyon for decades. The mighty Comanche Nation probably knew it the best during that century, but the centuries before and the centuries ahead, who knew?
Sam Lowell ordered two men to take Jimmy to one of the corrals, where stalls were set up, and secure him there. Jimmy handed over her medical bag with a wink before Lowell led Rebekah into one of the casitas.
Inside, the air was pleasantly cooler and Rebekah paused to let her eyes adjust after the bright sunshine. Lowell hung his rifle over the mantle and nodded toward a second room. She entered through the blanket doorway and halted. A woman sat by the bedside of a poor boy no more than 13 years old as he lay on his back, sweating profusely.
Rebekah glanced sharply at Sam Lowell. "I thought you said one of your men was hurt. This is a boy."
"Boys become men fast here in Texas. Have to in order to survive. This is my only son, Billy. My wife, here.”
The woman glared at him. "I told you not to take him that night! I told you…"
The boy moaned, "Ma! Ma, Pa, don't fight."
Rebekah moved to his other side and set her bag on a three legged stool there. She pressed the back of her hand to his hot forehead, then stroked it.
"Billy, I'm a doctor and I'll be taking care of you."
The boy whimpered when Rebekah pulled back the blanket to see the bandage on his calf. His leg was swollen and Rebekah had a feeling she knew what she would find under the bandage.
“Mrs. Lowell, could you get me some hot water and clean cloth?”
The woman pressed a hand over her mouth and left the room, roughly pushing past her husband.
Rebekah opened her bag, but she knew what she needed had been lost in the flash flood. She spoke to Sam Lowell behind her.
"Do you have alcohol of any kind?"
"I would never let my boy drink."
Rebekah turned. “That is wise. But I need something to sterilize the wound. Surely someone in this community has some sort of medical supplies. Accidents happen all the time."
"This was no accident."
She sighed. How well she knew. “Be that as it may, please get me something to sterilize this wound."
Sam Lowell didn't take his eyes off her for several seconds. “I want my boy to come out of this all right, you understand, doctor?”
Rebekah halted from unraveling the soiled bandage and looked up at him. "There are two things I understand in this situation, Mr. Lowell. One, that your son is injured and I need the proper tools to treat him. Second, that you are behaving exactly like Clem Baxter."
Sam Lowell’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but snapped it shut at the sound of another moan from Billy. He stalked out of the room.
Rebekah finished unwrapping the bandage to reveal what she had suspected—infection was setting in.
Mrs. Lowell returned and thankfully didn't flinch at the sight of the puss and redness on her son’s leg. She served as Rebekah’s assistant as she cleaned the wound with hot water.
Sam Lowell returned shortly with a bottle of whiskey that another family had stored among their goods. Rebekah sanitized the wound before she lanced and re-bandaged it. She glanced up at Lowell who was in the doorway.
“I need my friend to hunt down some plants for me. They were growing near where we camped last night.”
Lowell narrowed his eyes. “I’ll send one of my men for what you need.”
Rebekah frowned. “Jimmy will not run off anywhere without me. You can trust him more than I can trust one of your men to get what I need for your son. Now, please send for him.”
It was a battle of wills, same as it had been with Clem Baxter, though neither man would ever acknowledge how much they were alike.
Sam Lowell finally took a step back and turned his head to call out the door of the house, “Andy! Bring t
hat boy in here."
Minutes later, Jimmy appeared, looking relieved to see Rebekah.
"Need my help, Doc Beck?”
"Yes, Jimmy, I need you to hunt down an aloe vera plant. There was one growing by the dugout. Bring me two thick leaves. Then stop at that willow tree where Mr. Lowell wanted to hang us and get small branches from it. Please hurry.”
Jimmy nodded and dashed out, not even looking at Lowell for permission to leave. She appreciated his loyalty to her in the few days they’d known each other, but would warn him later to keep his wits about him at all times.
***
Time passed slowly. Mrs. Lowell went into the kitchen of the two room casita and began preparing the noon meal. Sam Lowell poked his head into the room where Rebekah maintained vigilance over Billy, watching the rise and fall of the young boy’s chest as he struggled to breathe through the fever.
A ruckus sounded, along with a gunshot. Rebekah jumped up and ran outside behind Mrs. Lowell and others who stood outside their dwellings to see what was going on.
Jimmy was making a beeline for the casita despite the shouting of one of the guards. Sam Lowell appeared from a corral and shouted back, telling the man to stand down.
Jimmy skidded to a halt in front of the casita and held up both hands filled with branches, aloe vera leaves bulging from his pockets. "Got it, Doc. Anything else you need?”
Rebekah released a shaky breath. "I need you to not get yourself killed.”
Jimmy shrugged and leaned over to whisper, “These fellows can't shoot for sour apples, Miss Rebekah.”
“I disagree, but be that as it may, please be careful."
Rebekah took the material from him and went back inside, Jimmy following her. Mrs. Lowell had gone back into the bedroom to watch over her son.
Rebekah spread the branches on the table and took a knife from her belt where it had been hidden. Jimmy chuckled at the sight of it. Rebekah set about peeling the bark to reveal the green layer she wanted. She stripped the green as slivers in a bowl on the table, measured two tablespoons worth, and dropped them into boiling water on the stove.
Canyon War Page 5