The Saloon Girl's Journey (Texas Women of Spirit Book 3)

by Angela Castillo

  “The sight of so much killing makes you jaded after awhile. But somehow the good Lord kept bitterness and hatred from my heart. I squared my shoulders and made it through the job He set before me.

  “After the war, I set up a practice in Ohio. But I found it hard to make progress with the townsfolk. People based medicines on superstitions and old wives’ tales. Some methods helped, some were harmless, but most treatments made things worse. Folks were set on the idea that new-fangled doctors didn’t know what they were doing. Many times, they were right. Even with all I’d learned, I couldn’t help a good portion of the people coming through my clinic’s doors.

  “So I began to study herbs and old-fashioned treatments. I got a little wagon and went from town to town, speaking to conventional doctors and the ‘wise women.’ I went to Indian reservations and talked to true medicine men. I spoke to newly freed slave matriarchs who’d been responsible for the health of entire plantations. Everything I learned, I wrote in journals.” He smiled. “I have thirty-six journals now, and soon I’ll have thirty-seven. I gathered herbs from a dozen states and made poultices and elixirs. And you know what?” He raised his eyebrows at Darla. “Some of them worked!”

  “But if the potions you sell are real, then why stretch the truth?”

  “Ah, there’s the difficulty.” Doctor Ebenezer shook his head. “You’re forgetting the part of every human soul that craves a great story. Folks still rely on superstition for much of their beliefs. So I give them a good show. Most towns have no form of entertainment, except for what men find at the saloon. Many folks would pay double what we charge for remedies just to hear a pretty girl sing.” He grinned.

  “Don’t you think we’re getting their hopes up? I mean, no medicine can bring back someone from the dead,” said Darla.

  “It depends on how you look at it,” Doctor Ebenezer tilted his head to one side. “For instance, I’ve developed a chest rub for croup that has saved more children than I can count. I rest easier at night knowing mothers have it in their cabinets. I’ve discovered treatments for arthritis that can bring feeling and movement back into stiff fingers. I have much truth to offer, though I wrap it up in stories and showmanship. I listen carefully to folk’s symptoms and give them the best I have. One thing I refuse to do is plant someone in the crowd and pretend to heal them. And while I travel, I am always looking for more truth, more cures, and more ways to help people. Does this help you understand?”

  “I guess so.” But another question tugged at the back of Darla’s mind. Why can’t I see what’s inside the lead wagon? If Doctor Ebenezer was really a good man, why would he keep secrets?

  In her saloon days, she’d run into men who promised her the world. But she’d never believed them. She’d seen other friends taken advantage of by crooks and swindlers, and they’d always been so surprised when they’d been left with broken hearts. Usually I can tell when men are telling falsehoods. But perhaps Doctor Ebenezer is a better liar than I’m used to dealing with.

  “I’m going to go see if Ketzia needs help,” she said to Doctor Ebenezer.

  His bushy eyebrows drew together, but he nodded and rolled the pram in her direction. “We’ll practice again at the next stop.”

  18 TREETOP

  DOCTOR EBENEZER AND

  HIS WONDROUS ELIXIRS!

  Ethan scanned the handbill--the second such paper he’d found. The first one had been nailed to a fence on the outskirts of a town yesterday. This advertisement was tacked to the wall of the community’s general store. Again, he’d arrived too late. He groaned and pulled his hat down over his eyes. At least I’m still on the right path.

  Despite all the setbacks, Ethan had been confident he could still catch up with the medicine show if he rode hard and fast enough. But now he held the price of all the delays in his hand. Wadding up the paper, he threw it in a nearby spittoon.

  “You see the show, Mister?” A gap-toothed man in filthy overalls peered up at him.

  “No. Just missed it, I guess. Was it good?”

  “Lor’, you should’ve seen it.” The man smiled. “Snakes, music, a trained pig . . . and that blond lady.”

  “Blond?” Ethan’s ears perked up. “Did she have dimples? And a beautiful smile?”

  “Didn’t she though?” The man chuckled. “All her clothes were black, but any man in town would’ve married her on the spot, if they’d had the courage to ask.”

  So Darla was still with the caravan a day ago. At least I have that. “I’d really like to see the show. Any idea where they were headed?”

  The man scratched his beard. “I think I overheard the doctor say they were heading northwest. Closest town that way would be Willoughby.”

  I’ve come this far. Ethan shook the man’s grimy hand. “Thank you kindly.”

  ###

  Wiping the clouded mirror with a corner of her shawl, Darla bit her lips and pinched her cheeks. Her heart fluttered down to her stomach and back up again, like a trapped butterfly. Why am I so nervous? I should be used to this by now.

  “Can I come in?” Ketzia called from outside the tent.

  Darla pulled open the flap, and her friend stepped in.

  “Are you ready yet? I have something to show you.” Ketzia said.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Darla glanced back at the mirror and fluffed her hair. She was wearing the hat she’d bought before she’d joined the medicine show. It rested on her golden curls at just the right angle. I’m glad I’m not wearing that ugly mourning dress for this performance.

  “Hurry up. You look beautiful as always.” Ketzia tugged on her arm.

  Darla followed Ketzia away from the tent and down the path to the road.

  After a short walk, they entered the town.

  Unlike the last village, this one didn’t have a platform already made, so the troupe had cleared out the supply buckboard, removed the canvas roof, and staked down the wheels. Crowds of people strained against the makeshift rope barricades.

  Ketzia reached an ancient oak tree not far from the improvised stage. A low-hanging branch stretched over the crowd.

  Wrapping her arms around a limb, Ketzia kicked off her sandals and gripped the trunk’s bark with her bare toes. After a short scramble she was up the tree and sitting on the big branch like a princess on her throne.

  “Come on,” she called to Darla. “You can see everything from up here.”

  “Won’t Doctor Ebenezer need us?” Darla called back.

  Ketzia shielded her eyes and looked over at the stage. She shook her head. “Trust me. It will be a long while.”

  Darla sighed and regarded the tree. Even after working in saloons, this was right up there with one of the most unladylike things she’d done, at least since the last time she’d climbed a tree at ten years of age. Unbuttoning her shoes, she dropped them in the pile with Ketzia’s, and then pulled herself up into the branches.

  She settled down beside her friend, only slightly mussed. “You’re right. This is a perfect view.”

  “It’s nice, up here in the breeze.” Ketzia closed her eyes. “Makes me feel young and free.”

  Doctor Ebenezer stood on the stage below them, surrounded by the biggest crowd Darla had seen yet. Wordlessly, he held out a coiled rope, a large iron ring, and a rake. He pushed the rope through the ring, and then wound it around the rake. Each movement was done with precise motions and meticulous care. The crowd watched with bated breath.

  After he'd finished this task, the doctor walked through the cleared area around the stage, scanning the ground. On occasion, he picked up rocks to study. Some he’d keep; others he’d toss away. With the selected rocks, he created a little circle in the sand, and then stuck the rake, handle down, into the sand. The rope kept the ring secure to the top of the rake. Smiling in apparent satisfaction, he walked away, leaving the rake where he’d planted it.

  During the show, Darla kept waiting for the doctor to do something with the rake, but even after Miss Miranda came out with h
er snakes, he did not return to it. Finally she turned to Ketzia, whose mouth was turned up at the corners.

  “Did he forget about the rake?” she asked.

  “Not at all.” Ketzia giggled. “He’s completely finished with it. Sometimes he does things like that just to mystify the crowd. It's really nothing.”

  “Oh,” Darla said. “Well, it worked on me.”

  After Miss Miranda’s act, Ketzia slid down from the tree, quick as a squirrel.

  Darla's ascent was much slower, but she managed to reach the ground with only minor bumps and bruises.

  The two women scooted through the crowd and ducked under the rope. Ketzia’s father and brothers had already begun a wild tune that swirled through the crowd like a live thing.

  Ketzia picked up her tambourine, danced onto the stage and began to play along. Fatima’s little boys came onstage to perform flips and somersaults.

  Darla’s task was to encourage people in the crowd to join in the dance. From the front line, she chose a gentleman with tufts of gray hair and one tooth. He pranced beside her, grinning from ear to ear while his friends clapped and whistled.

  After the dance, Darla leaned against the buckboard wheel to catch her breath. A thought dawned on her. This is the most fun I've had in years.

  Doctor Ebenezer ambled up beside her, mopping his bald head with a large silk cloth emblazoned with strange gold-embroidered patterns. “Darla, I want you to wander out among the crowd. Become a part of it. I’ve never been to this town before. I’d like to get a better notion of the people we are presenting to.”

  Darla raised an eyebrow. Why is he asking me to do this? Surely he would trust a more seasoned member of the troupe than me. But she nodded and went back out past the ropes. She pushed through the throngs of people, all faces turned towards the stage.

  One thing she’d learned during her crazy life was how to read folks, especially men. She could generally tell in the time it took a person to say “How do you do?” if they were good-natured or mean, rich or poor, simple-minded or smart. Every saloon owner of every establishment she had worked said the same thing: “Don’t ask for more money than someone has in their pocket, or you won't get anything.”

  She studied the tired faces of housewives, their work-worn fingers holding the hands of underfed children. Men with unshaved chins and patches in their clothes smiled at the zany’s antics. Many folks suffered from some kind of ailment, wearing bandages or eye patches, or leaning on canes. Her heart melted. All these people in need. God, can Doctor Ebenezer really help them?

  After awhile, she circled back and went to the front of the crowd. Johnny Jingles performed a magic trick with the rabbits. The crowd was hushed, hanging on to every word. Darla smiled. Even at such a young age, Johnny knew how to keep the audience in the palm of his hand.

  Darla came up behind the doctor.

  He turned and smoothed his moustache. “Well?”

  “There’s not a person out there with more than a quarter in their pocket. Lots of hard-working folks, many sick or hurt. Looks like these people have been through some tough times.”

  Doctor Ebenezer nodded. “Just my kind of crowd.” He glanced back at her, and a broad grin covered his face, making his cheeks red and round as plums. “My goodness, you should see your face! White as a sheet, my girl!” He held out a small bottle. “Try a drop of that, and you’ll be right as rain before your act.”

  Darla took the bottle and turned it over and over in her hands. She waited until the doctor wasn’t looking and placed it in her pocket.

  After Darla’s skit was finished, she snuck back to the tree, checking over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching. Miss Miranda wouldn’t let me watch before, but I have to see what the doctor is really doing. Climbing proved a bit harder this time, since twilight had fallen and it was harder to see where to grip. She finally made it to the branch and peered through the leaves.

  “Come for a miracle, folks.” Doctor Ebenezer had already begun his pitch. “Salves and elixirs to cure what ails ya! Nothing for more than a dime! A dime to fix your troubles!”

  Part of the crowd lined up on one side of the wagon to make purchases from Fatima, who collected the money in a box. Darla noticed another group crowding around Doctor Ebenezer. He had a curious looking object that appeared to be a sort of tube with a cup at the end, almost like a long funnel. He’d hold the cup end of the object to a person’s chest, and held the tube to his ear as though he was listening to something.

  Suddenly, Darla remembered where she’d seen an object like that before. Once, in a saloon, a man had collapsed after a bar fight. A doctor had come in and used a very similar item to listen to the man’s heart.

  Another man came up to the doctor, clutching his shoulder.

  After a brief conversation, Doctor Ebenezer had the man lie down on a mat on the wagon stage. He laid his hands on the man’s shoulder and gave it a shove.

  Darla heard bones crack from up in her tree and gasped along with the crowd.

  Doctor Ebenezer stood and helped the man to his feet.

  The man twisted his arm this way and that, a look of wonder passing over his face. “I’m cured! The pain is gone!”

  In the next hour, many people came away from the doctor with smiling faces and bottles of medicine.

  For a few of the folks, the doctor had shaken his head and sent them away with empty hands. Darla was glad he didn’t try to fill everyone with false hope.

  Back at the camp, Darla told Ketzia about the doctor’s strange request. “Why do you think he asked me to gauge the crowd like that?”

  Ketzia pulled her beaded shawl tighter around her shoulders and stared into the fire. “He never gives that job to anyone besides Miss Miranda or my father. He must think you have a gift.”

  “A gift?” Darla laughed. “I’m just me.”

  Ketzia shook her head. “No, I can see it too. You have the ability to discern things about people. My father says it comes from God.”

  Darla drew up her knees and rested her chin on her folded arms. “I don’t know if God is very happy with me right now.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away.

  “Why would you say that?” Ketzia asked.

  “Look what I’ve done. I ran away so the people who took me in out of kindness wouldn’t find out who I really was. I stole a man’s heart I had no right to claim. And now I’m here. And even though I understand Doctor Ebenezer now, I didn’t before, and that makes me worse than any other member of the troupe. I should have made sure the medicines were real before I became a part of selling them to trusting folks.”

  Ketzia gave her a sympathetic smile. “Oh, Darla, we all go through times of doubt. Think of how I felt, letting my husband go off without me. Every day I wonder if I made the right choice. But there was no place for me at that ranch, and it’s only for a short time. I have to trust in God.”

  “But what if I’m not doing what God wants me to do? What if He never wanted me to come here?”

  “Then you have to listen for His voice. He loves you, and He speaks to the children He loves. If you find you are wrong, ask for forgiveness. He’ll show you the right path.”

  Darla nodded. Somehow, I will make this right.

  Later that night, she opened her Bible to Proverbs chapter 3, verses 5 and 6.

  “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.

  In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”

  She lay in the dark a long time, her lips moving in silent prayer so as not to wake the snoring Miss Miranda. “Lord, please help me to trust You. And please direct my path.”

  19 SUSPICION

  “We’re changing direction.” Doctor Ebenezer announced the next morning. The troupe was gathered around the campfire, each absorbed in the little tasks that made up life in the medicine show.

  Darla shrugged and went back to darning socks. She didn’t care where they went as long as they
stayed away from Dallas. Johnny Jingles had assured her they wouldn’t visit the same town for at least a year.

  “We’ll be heading to Waco,” Doctor Ebenezer continued. “It's a mighty big city, and they just completed a bridge to span the river a few years ago. There’s another town on the way, so we’ll see about doing a show there first.”

  “Waco?” Miss Miranda waved an ostrich plume fan she was repairing. “Those people are so uppity. They’ll be even more high and mighty with their fancy new bridge.”

  “Then we must be even more uppity.” Doctor Ebenezer spread out his arms. “Polish the harnesses, bring out the bells. We will out-fancy any fancy they have!” He smiled at Darla. “Especially since we have the fanciest girl of them all, right in our troupe!”

  A dark shadow fell over Miss Miranda’s face. She dropped her fan and stalked away.

  The next day was spent in flurries of preparation. Sequins and feathers were sewn to gowns and hats. New skits were practiced, and Ketzia curled and pinned Darla’s hair in dozens of ways to see what suited her best.

  “This is such a big fuss. I feel like a pincushion,” Darla finally protested. “Why can’t I just wear my hair in the normal pinned up braid?”

  Ketzia didn’t answer. Her mouth was full of pins.

  “Don’t you know, dear?” Miss Miranda strode by in her gray traveling dress. “You catch the eye of every man at the show. You are special, and the doctor won’t have you wasted.”

  Heat crept into Darla’s cheeks, and her fingers tightened around the handle of her mirror. “I certainly hope that’s not the way the doctor really feels. I spent too many years of my life thinking my looks were my only value, and I don’t want to feel that way anymore.”

  Miss Miranda moved to the edge of the campsite, her shoulders rigid. She glanced back at Darla. “Enjoy it while you can, dear. Some day you’ll be dried up and unwanted, like an old potato in the bottom of a sack. Just remember this . . . The woman all the men smiled at . . . used to be me.” She sauntered off to her tent.