Growing Old with Kitty
by
Lilyjack

Chapter 21

"Medicine"

"Y-you shoulda' seen it, Miss Kitty. I kept 'spectin' to see a drawer full a' eye of newt!" Henry Small released a boyish giggle, blue eyes shining, nothing like Kitty had ever seen from him before. Maybe young Henry was coming out of his shell, she mused as she listened to him chatter on about stories his ma used to read to him when he was little, before she died of the smallpox.

"I wanna thank you, Henry, for goin' into Brushy Heap to get this stuff for me. Maybe it will help make Matt's swelling go down a little faster and make him feel a whole lot better."

Yesterday, while Matt had slept, Kitty had run across a book of home remedies in Mr. Blessing's library. When she'd shared her discovery with the older man, he'd told her Mr. McCorkle might stock some of those ingredients in his mercantile.

"Oh no, you won't, young lady!" Blessing had declared unwaveringly, hands on hips and lips pressed into a thin line, when she'd suggested she could ride into town and see. He'd added, shaking his head for emphasis, "Not until this Indian scare blows over."

She'd started to protest, but then admitted to herself he was only making sense. So she'd bitten her tongue and parked herself in the comfortably upholstered chair in Matt's bedroom while her patient rested, sedated only with some fine Kentucky bourbon from Mr. Blessing's personal liquor stash. But pretty soon, Henry Small had poked his head in the door, announcing, "B-b-boss says to tell you that me and him are headin' into Brushy Heap to p-pick up a few supplies and c-catch up on the latest news. I-i-indian news, I s'pose."

She'd bitten her lip to keep from grinning but gratefully dashed off a hastily scrawled list of the ingredients she needed to make Matt's medicine, entreating Henry to be very careful and keep a wary eye out.

Now she and Henry were in the cook shack, melting together lard and beeswax and linseed oil, cooking elder bark and straining it, then mixing it all together to make a healing salve. Mr. Blessing had also purchased some witch hazel that would help to reduce Matt's swelling. The whole time she was busily working, Henry was trailing after her, animatedly relating details of Mr. McCorkle's dusty back room that held small wooden drawers of mysterious, smelly things, dried and powdered, like snakeroot, rutabaga seed, dogwood bark, horehound, pennyroyal, camphor, alum, and bloodroot-therefore Henry's expectations at seeing some stomach-churning ingredients fit for a proper witch's brew like lizard tails and frog hearts.

Kitty chuckled and wiped her hands on her apron one last time. She'd put her homemade healing concoctions in small crocks with lids and set them on the kitchen table. She looked over at Henry, who was now grunting as he hauled in a heavy bucket of water for her to clean up the mess they'd made. On impulse, she placed her hands on Henry's shoulders when he set the bucket by the stove, looking him squarely in the eye. "Henry, I need to tell you how grateful I am..." she began.

He interrupted, "Y-you done told me, Miss. I was glad t' go with Boss to get them things for you in t-town." He smiled shyly.

"No, that's not what I meant. I'm also very grateful for what you did the other night." She clasped his big, awkward hands in her own. "It took a lot of guts to jump in there like you did, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate it. You're a brave young man, Henry Small."

A rosy blush was rapidly traveling across his face. He ducked his head, unable to look at her. "I-I just did what I had to, M-miss. Couldn't let anything happen to y-you."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him close, laying her cheek alongside his flushed face. She whispered, "Thank you, Henry..." and then pulled away. Beaming at him, she handed him one of the crocks and said, "Help me carry this to Matt's room, will ya'?

"Y-yes, Miss!"

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"Golly, Kitty, that stuff smells like sh-"

"Oh, don't think you're gonna flatter me with that kinda' talk, Cowboy. Now be still," she instructed as she gingerly smeared his face with greasy ointment.

Henry, standing behind her, got tickled.

Peering at him through swollen eyes that were turning various shades of black and blue, Matt groused, "Don't you have work to do, kid?"

"Oh, Matt, he's been helping me! Don't be so hard on him. Here, Henry, hand me that medicine and you can go find Mr. Blessing and see what he might need. No need in hanging around here if this big ol' sourpuss is just going to fuss at you."

Henry grinned with wide, white teeth and chuckled, "Yes, Miss. H-hope you feel better soon, M-matt. S-see ya' later."

"Later, Henry," she called. "...and thanks again." She shot the boy a look over her shoulder and smiled, "I meant what I said earlier," making him flush red from his hairline down to his collar. He smiled back shyly and scooted out the bedroom door.

Matt asked curiously, "What'd you say to him?"

Kitty smoothed some ointment over his busted lip as gently as she could. "Ohh, I just told him 'thank you.'"

"Thank you?"

"Yes, Matt, that boy was mighty brave the other night, jumping on the back of that giant bully the way he did."

"Oh...yeah." Matt smiled as best he could with a swollen mouth, scabbed over at the corner. "He was. I guess I was fightin' a losin' battle at that point."

"Matt, you were outnumbered three to one!"

"I know, but..."

"No 'buts', Cowboy. You did your best."

"I don't think my best would have been good enough to save you."

She lightly placed a finger on his puffy lips. "Don't you dare say that. I'll be forever grateful for what you did for me." She held his face between her palms and looked at his poor, battered features. "I am so sorry for what they did to you, Matt, I really am." Her eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears. "I feel like it's all my fault, that you're hurt so bad..."

"Absolutely not, Kitty Russell. I won't listen to that kinda talk from you. You hear me?" His discolored eyes narrowed as he staunchly spoke. "You think I could actually stand by...?" He shook his head in determination. "Those men oughta' be locked up, but we don't have any law here in Brushy Heap, Kitty. So I've got to stand up and fight for what's right. Or else bad things could happen..." He looked straight at her and added fervently, "...to good people...like you."

She was holding his hand in hers, smoothing ointment over his knuckles. "And I thank you for it, Matt Dillon." Her stomach had lurched at his mention of the "law". She anxiously wondered if this young man had any inklings in that direction. She leaned over and quickly brushed her lips over his forehead, the only spot where he wasn't greasy or swollen or scabby. "You're a sight for sore eyes, you know that?"

He snorted out a little laugh and asked, "You think when I'm all better you'll wanna go to another dance with me?"

Her heart leapt in her chest a little, and she spoke low as she moved to unbandage his knee, "I would be proud to go to another dance with you, Matt." She began rubbing medicine over the injured flesh, and looked up at him earnestly, reiterating, "Mighty proud..."

tbc

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