by Clay, Verna
Thomas heard one of the men spit tobacco in the spittoon and waited for the conclusion to the story. He wasn't disappointed.
Curly swore some foul language and continued, "I figured they left 'cause the loot we'd taken was a piddle in a bucket and there was a woman and child on the coach. If not, they woulda' unhitched a couple of horses and been on us like flies on dung." Curly called, "Hey Bartender, another round."
Thomas opened his eyes and stared at the amber liquid in his glass. There was a jangle of change as the men paid for their drinks.
Curly said, "I managed to round up our horses and get Billy on his. It was then I remembered hearing an old trapper spoutin' a tale 'bout this woman who lived in the red rocks below Flagstaff. He said she could heal anyone, even animals. When he started tellin' 'bout some o' the ailments she'd healed, I thought he was talkin' out his arse, but I never forgot it. One look at Billy with a bullet in the vicinity of his heart and I knew he was a walkin' dead man. 'Course he wasn't walkin', not by a long shot. We was over in the Verde Valley which wasn't far from the red rocks as the crow flies, and I just grabbed the reins o' Billy's horse and told the kid, 'We sure as hell can't go to Fort Verde to see the doc. They'd recognize us in a heartbeat and hang us afore the sun set, so we're gonna go find that Healing Woman.'"
"What did Billy say?" asked Marv.
"He didn't say nothin', just nodded, 'cause he knew what I said was true. It took us all day and part of the night to get there. And again, I'd say providence was guiding us if it weren't such a ridiculous notion 'cause we happened onto the path of an old trapper who pointed us in the right direction. He said he'd been to see her a few times in the past five years, and she'd even healed him of gangrene."
"So, what'd she do to heal Billy?"
"Hell, I don't rightly know. It was night when we got there and the Healing Woman come outta' her cabin like she had no fear. She walked right up to us, shined her lantern on Billy layin' on his horse, and motioned for me to bring him into the barn. Frankly, she scared the sheeit outta me with them weird colored eyes. They was kinda blue, kinda purple."
There was silence and then Thomas jumped when a whisky glass hit the table. Curly made an "Ahhh" sound and said, "Marv, I swear on my mother's grave that this is the honest truth. When we walked into the barn I almost peed my pants. There was stall after stall of animals. Some was obviously injured, and others, I don't know if they was pets or what. She made me take Billy to a room at the back o' the barn and inside was an old Indian. Somethin' was wrong with his stomach 'cause it was wrapped up. She pointed to an empty cot and I put Billy on it. Then she started grabbin' bottles and boxes of stuff off shelves. Now mind you, she hadn't said a word."
"So what'd she do with the stuff she grabbed?"
"Hell if I know. She motioned for me to leave and, believe me, that little mite of a woman scared me more'n a posse of lawmen. I just did what she said and went to take care of the horses. After that, I laid my bedroll out in a corner of the barn and fell asleep."
Thomas swirled the whiskey in his glass. His heart had started pounding. He had to know the ending to the story. The cowboy was quiet for so long that he was just about to turn and ask him to continue, when Curly said, "When I woke at dawn, I was afraid of what I'd see if I walked back into that room, but Billy was my friend and if he needed to be buried, I was gonna give him a good Christian one to help him when he reached the pearly gates. But when I opened the door, I was shocked to see him sleepin' like a baby. I think he even had a smile on his face. His chest was bandaged and there was some kind of brown goo oozing out the sides, but he weren't in no pain. And the damndest thing, there was two crystals 'bout the size o' a big man's fist. One was on a table at the head of his bed and the other on a table at the foot. The old Indian was still asleep so I just slipped from the room not wantin' to disturb him or Billy. When I got back to my bedroll there was a tray o' food waitin' for me. After I ate, I went into the woods to take care o' nature's call and when I come back, the old Indian was sittin' on the porch with the Healing Woman. Neither of them spoke to me, but to be polite, I called out a thank you for the food. She just nodded and went back to talkin' with the Indian. The Indian musta' left that day 'cause I never seen him again.
"A week later Billy was well enough to travel. Some o' them concoctions the woman rubbed on his wound was nasty lookin' stuff, and she made him drink some kind o' potion every day, but the treatments worked. I seen men shot afore and sometimes it takes weeks, if not months, to recover. I ain't never seen the likes o' this though."
Curly ordered and slammed another whiskey while Thomas gathered his thoughts. Coming to a decision, he turned to Curly and said, "Sir, I couldn't help overhearing your conversation, and since I'm a doctor, I find your story fascinating. Can you tell me more about this woman?"
The cowboy, covered in desert dust, eyed him suspiciously and narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you're a lawman just sayin' you're a doctor."
Thomas lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I assure you, I am who I say I am, and I have no interest in your…er…colorful history. In fact, the bartender can vouch for me." He called to Slim at the end of the bar, "Hey, Slim, am I the local doctor?"
"Damn straights, and a fine one at that."
"Thanks." Thomas returned his attention to Curly. "The reason I'm asking about the Healing Woman is because I have a patient with a mysterious illness and nothing I do seems to help. The Healing Woman may be my patient's last resort."
Curly's harsh features softened a little and he scratched the salt-and-pepper bristle on his chin. "Well, like you heard, I don't know nothin' 'bout her. She never talked to me; just give me food every day. The one time I tried to make conversation she looked at me with them strange eyes and then turned and walked away."
"Was she Indian, Asian, White?"
"Well, her features was kinda Indian but her skin was as white as milk and she had hair black as midnight. It was long and pulled back in a braid that reached her arse. She was tiny, too. Prob'ly not much over five feet or a hundred pounds." He shook his head and mumbled, "I'll never forget them eyes."
Thomas puffed a breath. "Can you tell me how to find her?"
When Curly hesitated, Marv said, "Hell, Curly, tell the man so's he can maybe save his patient."
Curly nodded and said, "You know Fort Verde, where the military's set up to fight all them skirmishes?"
"Yes, I've seen it on a map."
"Well, the red rocks is northwest of there, maybe twenty, twenty-five miles as the crow flies. The Healing Woman lives at the southern end of the rocks in a little valley. Her house is about a hundred yards from a creek. But to get to Fort Verde from here, you gotta take the Yavapai Trail up into the Superstition Mountains and then follow the Salt River to the Verde River that branches off of it. But to save time, there's a trail that cuts northwest afore you get to the Verde. You follow it and eventually meet up with the river. The trail mostly goes alongside the riverbank and will take you to a cutoff to Fort Verde. Then there's a trail from Fort Verde headed toward the red rocks."
Thomas nodded. "Are there any markers I should look for once I get close to the rocks?"
"Well, you'll know you're headed in the right direction if you stay your course toward the gigantic rock shaped like a bell. There's a creek you'll follow part of the way and about a mile or two afore you reach the bell the trail veers northwest behind an outcropping of cliffs and boulders. You gotta get behind them cliffs. Eventually you'll come to another creek. Follow that creek northeast and you'll enter a valley and not long after, her cabin. That's how the trapper explained it to me and I found her easy enough."
Thomas motioned toward Slim. "Pour my friends another round, sir." He stretched his arm out to shake hands with Curly and then Marv.
Curly said, "I wish the best for your patient, sir."
Marv jerked his head toward a card table. "Would you care to join me and Curly Bill in a game of poker?"
Thomas decline
d but thanked the men for their help. Time was of the essence. He had to prepare for departure to the red rocks.
Song of the Red Rocks (Present)
Standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows in her hilltop Point Loma home, a seaside community of San Diego, Sunny Sundance watched waves hammer the rocks below. And today, as every day for the past month, the waves mirrored her battle against melancholia. Usually upbeat and optimistic, circumstances were taking a toll on her outlook.
She sighed and turned to face her beautifully appointed library. Making a home for herself and her husband had been a labor of love. That was, of course, until he filed for divorce, which stirred up the relentless pursuit by crazed paparazzi wanting to know her version of the breakup. Although she could have had a field day lambasting her soon-to-be ex, she knew she'd never stoop that low. The latest madness had been fueled by a picture of her husband and his mistress sharing a passionate kiss that had made the rounds of several tabloids. Her life had become a living nightmare.
For ten years she and Dirk Benson had been the darling couple of the country scene. Her career had placed them in the limelight and fueled his success as a financial manager for C & W artists. They were often photographed and featured with accompanying accolades in reputable magazines—until now. Now they were the butt of late night jokes, photo-shopped tabloid snapshots, and twitter hashtags. More than a few loyal fans had even turned into enemies.
Having been in the limelight for twenty years, Sunny had learned to deal with both positive and negative publicity, but what she couldn't presently handle were her own misgivings. Was she as much to blame for her failed marriage as her cheating husband? Was her multi-award career the real culprit ending their wedded bliss? As Dirk had so cruelly claimed in their divorce papers, was she a cold, self-obsessed woman? A woman who cared more about writing the next country hit than nurturing her relationship with her spouse? According to the documents her husband had been forced to seek companionship elsewhere because of loneliness.
Sunny glanced around the room again allowing her gaze to fall on the myriad awards lining the walls and shelves—gold and platinum records, female entertainer of the year statues for two consecutive years, song and album of the year plaques, Oscar for best song, and so many more. Was Dirk correct in his assessment of her or was he just trying to gain public sentiment?
She would be the first to admit that after escaping the confines of the foster care system at the age of eighteen, she had single-mindedly pursued her dream of a singing career, never imagining it would lead to such fame and fortune. And after being screwed over by a talent scout early on, she and her band had spent the next few years trying to catch a break. It had been a serendipitous meeting in a Las Vegas lounge that escalated into a record deal with her song, Family Wanted, becoming a hit almost overnight. The song had told the tale of a lonely teenager's attempt to find solace in her music, which, of course, echoed Sunny's own life.
Sunny returned to staring at the ocean and stifled a sob when melancholia won the battle for her emotions. Unwanted scenes from her life relentlessly crashed into remembrance, just like the waves below. The first scene was the death of her mother shortly after Sunny's tenth birthday. When authorities had been unable to locate relatives, she had been thrust into foster care. Being an older, ungainly child, no one had stepped up to the plate to adopt her. Continued attempts by the state to locate family had ended in failure.
Her father, much older than her mother and an only child, had died of a heart attack within a year of Sunny's birth, and her mother had supported them by working as a waitress in Tucson. And although they'd had little in the way of material possessions, they'd been rich in love. Her mother had often regaled Sunny with stories told by her own mother about their ancestors.
Lifting her gaze to swirling clouds in an angry sky, she closed her eyes and sighed when a particularly happy scene replaced the sad one.
"Mama, tell me again about the red rocks and our family."
Her mother, Naomi, would smile and reach for the worn magazine featuring pictures of the red cliffs surrounding Sedona, Arizona. Sitting on their couch she would pat the spot beside her and young Sunny would cuddle next to her, waiting for her mother to open the magazine and tell the story of the woman known as the Healing Woman of the Red Rocks. The story would begin when Naomi turned the page to the picture of a huge monolith known as Bell Rock located near the Village of Oak Creek, just outside of Sedona.
"Well, Sunny, the Healing Woman lived in a beautiful valley in a cabin built by her great-grandparents near the rock shaped like a bell, and she was loved by all the animals. She could even communicate with them…"
The tale would continue with Sunny asking numerous questions as her mother turned from page to page.
Sunny opened her eyes and walked across the room to a comfortable beige sofa with turquoise throw pillows lining the length of it. She sat and reached for her most valuable possession, the tattered magazine her mother had used for her stories. She lifted the precious keepsake and laid it across her lap, again reliving the past.
"Mama, what happened to the Healing Woman?"
"She lived happily ever after with her husband."
"Did they have children?"
"Well, her husband already had a daughter and an adopted son, so she was blessed with two children as soon as they married. But later, they had another daughter."
"Did they have any more children?"
"No, they never did. It seems that all of our ancestors only bore one daughter."
"Just like you and me?"
"Yes, sweetheart, just like you and me."
"Mama, do you think we could go to Sedona someday and find the Healing Woman's cabin?"
"Someday, Sunny, you will be the one to find it."
"But I want to find it with you."
That's when her mother's smile would fade a little and Sunny would sometimes see unshed tears glistening in her eyes. As a child, she had never understood, but now she wondered whether her mother had had a premonition of her early death. Although Sunny had never experienced any psychic ability, her mother said it ran in their family. She remembered her saying more than once, "Sunny, you will face many challenges in your life, but those challenges will make you strong and compassionate." Had her mother been trying to prepare her for what was to come?
Sunny opened the publication and turned to the photo of Bell Rock. Ironically, she had never been to Sedona. After the death of her mother it had taken years for her to even open the magazine again. The pain of loss had been unbearable and only intensified when she saw the beloved pages, so she had packed it away in an old suitcase.
A tear slipped down her cheek and fell onto the picture of Bell Rock.
Novels and Novellas by Verna Clay
WESTERN ROMANCE
Contemporary
Romance on the Ranch Series
Dream Kisses
Honey Kisses
Baby Kisses
Candy Kisses
Christmas Kisses
Rock Star Kisses
Forever Kisses
Forgotten Kisses (coming soon)
Oasis Series
Stranded in Oasis
Branded in Oasis
Crashed in Oasis
Historic
Unconventional Series
*Abby: Mail Order Bride
Broken Angel
Ryder's Salvation
Joy's Return
*2014 Gold Medal Winner Readers' Favorite Int'l Book Contest/Historical Romance
Finding Home Series
Cry of the West: Hallie
Rescue on the Rio: Lilah
Missouri Challenge: Daisy
Red Rocks Trilogy: Past Present Future
Healing Woman of the Red Rocks (Past)
Song of the Red Rocks (Present)
Spirit Tree of the Red Rocks (Future)
FANTASY ROMANCE
Shapeling Trilogy
Roth: Book One: Protector
Fawn: Book Two: Master
Davide: Book Three: Prince
Jazmine
YOUNG ADULT ROMANCE
(Verna Clay writing as Colleen Clay)
Fragile Hearts
AUDIO BOOKS
Abby: Mail Order Bride
Broken Angel
Cry of the West: Hallie
Dream Kisses