The man's black eyes suddenly snapped open and he sprung to life. His eyes darted around and he picked up a flaming stick from the fireplace. Kid quickly got the cast iron pot she'd used to fix the beef tea in.

Ruth spoke to him in calm, kind tones. Kid's tone was a little sharper but also calm. They both tried to tell them that he was sick and hurt and they were helping him, but of course, he didn't understand a word they were saying or maybe just didn't believe them.

Kid kept his gun at the ready until he got close. The man bandied the stick toward Kid but obviously was still too weak to be much of a threat. Kid hit him with the pot and he crumpled in a heap. Ruth quickly got the stick back in the fireplace and stomped out the sparks that had gotten on one of the quilts with her shoes.

"Did you have to hit him so hard over the head?" she asked.

"No, I could've shot him," he retorted. "Do you know that cussed Indian could have burned the blasted house down?"

"Watch your language. You can hardly blame the man. How safe would you feel if you woke up in a tipi with a bow and arrow trained on you?"

"The gun was a necessary precaution as you saw. He should've been tied up all along."

"I know. I'm just saying it looked bad on his end, but you're right about tying him up until we can communicate that we mean him no harm," Ruth acquiesced.

"What we ought to do is put his butt back where we found him and continue on to California," he fussed even as he tore strips from one of the blankets with his pocketknife to use as makeshift ropes.

"I think a doctor should look at him if there's one to be had," Ruth said when he'd finished the job. "We'll better know what we can do for him, so we can release him."

"You make him sound like a bird. I guess I could get some of my clothes on him, cut his hair. Try to pass him off like a Mexican or at least a half breed, but how are we going to explain having him tied up if you do find somebody?"

"I don't know, but his being knocked out twice worries me. I guess we'll just say that he's not right after getting hit and's a danger to himself and others, which is true enough."

"This was a bad idea from the start," Kid complained. "I don't think this is going to end well."

"Well, we're into it too deep to back out now. See if you can get the rest of the beef tea down him, while I go out," she said as she put her dress back in order.

She found Señor Martinez, the man she knew was sure to speak English.

"Señora Cole, how is Señor Cole?" he asked.

"Not well, I'm afraid."

"Is he in pain?"

"Oh, there's some pain somewhere," she muttered, thinking more of the pain in the behind he was being than of anybody ailing. "I was hoping there'd be a doctor around to have a look at him."

"No doctor, but remember the white family? You had to have seen them among all the darks skins. They stuck out like a candle in the night."

"Yeah, I do recall them."

"Well, the man, Señor Via, just traps fur now, but he go to Harvard Medical school for almost a year, which all but makes you a doctor in these parts."

"He'll do," Ruth agreed. "Where can I find him?"

"Don't trouble yourself. I bring him to you."

"That's kind of you, but I can find Señor Via."

"No, I will do it. You go be with your husband."

"It's just Mr. Cole is a private man. Not real fond of having to see a doctor." Señor Martinez looked alarmed and Ruth rushed to explain. "Kid won't shoot him, I promise. Just the less people involved, the better."

"I understand," he said, looking somewhat relieved. "I just tell Señor Via where to go then."

"Thank you. I reckon I better get back to Kid then."

Mr. Via showed up about 15 minutes later. "I'm here to see Mr. Kid Cole I believe?" he said when Ruth answered the door.

Once the bearded man was inside and the door shut, she said, "Actually it's a friend of ours." She gestured to the blankets where the Indian lay, still unconscious, with newly shorn hair and in Kid's clothes, which were ill-fitting because Kid was a lot taller.

"That's no Spaniard. I know an Indian when I see one. You have an Indian," Mr. Via said with a gasp.

"And that's going to stay private knowledge, ain't it?" Kid asked in a calm, serious voice with his gun drawn, ignoring Ruth's frown.

"Y-you bet, Mr. Cole," Mr. Via stuttered.

"Good now that you're here, I'm going to see to some personal needs. My wife will let me know if you're any trouble. Don't leave till I get back," he warned. "And whatever you do don't untie him."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Mr. Via said immediately.

"I was talking to Sister Ruth on that last part," he said, shooting her a look of warning.

She gave a disgusted sigh. "Would you go already?"

When the door clicked closed, they stepped closer to the patient.

"He took a nasty bump to the head. Twice," Ruth explained as she picked up her improvised fan again. "I'm concerned for the damage it may have done."

"Is that that all then? That's good news. Never progressed to surgeries, you see, so if he'd needed an amputation or something that would have been bad news. Of course, let's hope he didn't splinter his skull."

He parted his hair and looked at the cut the rock had made and the goose egg from the pot. "Looks like you cleaned it up good. With his hair in the way, it can be hard to tell, but it looks free of infection to me, at least so far."

He opened his eyelids next. "His pupils are pretty big, but I think he'll live. May wake up confused and dizzy though, but that might be a good thing in this case. He feels warm, but I'd say his fever is likely connected with his head injury."

"So he'll recover then?"

"Probably. If it doesn't get infected and if he wakes up soon. Looks a little dehydrated too. He's lucky you found him when you did. Looks like you have a good handle on things. Keep giving him plenty to drink. He can go back wherever he came from in a day or two. If his wound starts looking infected though, let me know and I'll see what I can do. Which probably ain't much."

"Thank you for your help. God will bless you for your kindness."

"Yeah, well, if your husband wasn't a notorious gunfighter, I'd be worried and would have no choice but to tell. Watch him even so though. Nothing sneakier than an Injun."

"We will. Would you care for some water while we wait for Kid?" she asked politely though she didn't care too much for his prejudice in insinuating that all Indians were the same. "I'd offer you tea, but I'd have to heat it up and he won't be gone long, and to tell you the truth, the smell of the beef tea earlier about did me in. You might be paying a visit on me next."

"No thank you."

"I wish I had a place for you to set. I'll have to have Kid bring in a bench. My own back's about to kill me. Right in my lower back. Of course, I guess I shouldn't be telling you that, but you are practically a doctor."

"Oh, no, I'm fine standing. Spend more time outside then in, so a lack of furniture doesn't bother me anyway. Congratulations by the way."

"For what? " she asked with a half smile. "Being married to Kid Cole? The way I feel right now, you could have him."

"No, for being in the family way."