Thank you to everyone who showed support in the continuation of this story! I love you guys. I did not doubt my own talents – only the possibility of interest in something that had sat stagnant for so long. It really filled me with joy to know that there are people who are still interested in the adventures of Daisy and Cap, and I will try my best to give them the ending they deserve. Thank you again!
The man pulled Daisy to the nicer of the chairs in the small cottage, a rickety rocker with a flattened cushion that did little to lessen Daisy's aching bones. He draped a thick wool blanket over her wet shoulders and poured a tall glass of whiskey that glowed like golden embers in the lamplight. The man sat across from Daisy and watched her intently, the way she watched Cap, her own breath hitching with every one of his. There was nothing for her outside the dull glow of his white body shuddering to survive.
"Drink," the man commanded, and Daisy could not help but obey the authority in his tone. The great chug of liquid slid and burned down her raw throat, all at once comforting and severe. The whiskey seemed to dislodge something in Daisy, some numbness from her travails that was only now giving way to her overwhelming exhaustion and fear. Her body quaked and shivered, her teeth nearly biting through her tongue as they rattled. She met the black eyes of the man across the table, finally aware of the danger she may have put herself in.
"I won't hurt you," the man said as if reading her mind, and then added, "and worrying won't help your husband any." Daisy blanched at his frankness, but felt the truth behind his words. She and Cap were the strangers, after all, two bloody youths thrusting themselves upon the man and his hospitality. Surely there was goodness in anyone who would work so earnestly to save the life of another, especially one he did not know.
"I'm sorry," Daisy said quietly, her voice hoarse. "I guess I've been through a lot these past few days. It gets harder to know who to trust." She studied her hands folded neatly in her lap, too weary to censor her own honesty. She felt the man scrutinizing her down-turned head.
"I won't ask what happened to you two," he said after taking a swig from his own glass. "It ain't my business." He paused and waited for Daisy to look at him again. "But I wasn't aware of any recent Hatfield nuptials…" Daisy choked at the calm observation, her eyes growing big until her thick lashes nearly reached her brows. Her hand shook as she gripped her glass, wondering at her own stupidity. Of course everyone knew everyone in these parts, and it was more likely than not that anyone they chanced upon would recognize Cap and his ghost eye. What could she say to earn this man's silence? What could she do? Her ideas turned desperate, her longing to protect Cap eclipsing all good sense and discretion.
"Don't concern yourself with me, girl," the man's voice softened and he held out a gentling hand, clearly regretful of having so thoroughly disturbed Daisy. "Your secret's safe, at least with me. I come out here to get away from just such quarrels. Like I said, it's none of my business."
Daisy exhaled and her body slumped with relief. She couldn't be sure of the man's promise, couldn't be sure that he wouldn't go gossiping to the next person he saw. Life was dull in these parts, and chatter was a necessary diversion. But as before, her instincts told her to trust him; to trust his big frame and the way he hunched in his seat trying to make himself seem less imposing; to trust the way his own eyes continuously darted over to Cap to check his condition; to trust the simplicity of his home. Daisy's eyes roamed the sparse surroundings, her eyes alighting on all of those fiery lanterns.
"Are you a doctor?" she wondered aloud, and the man nodded, pouring more whiskey into her glass. "What on Earth are you doin' out here?" Daisy was unsure of where she was, even of what state she was in, but she was almost entirely certain that there was no one nearby. A doctor's greatest strength was often his proximity.
"This is my…home away from home," he explained, glancing around with an admiring smile. "I know it's not much, but sometimes I don't want much. Just a place to escape for a while, somewhere where the wife and kids won't come a naggin', meanin' your sex no offense." Daisy waved off the remark, what delicacy she had had now thoroughly sunk at the bottom of the river.
"Believe it or not, this used to belong to my parents," he went on, "it was their little house when they first got married. And when they passed on, God rest their souls, I lived here on my own until I met my June. Seemed a shame to forget about it, to let it go to ruin. So I come out here from time to time to check on it, and to find a little bit of my lost sanity." He smiled at that last comment, an easy smile that turned his mustache up towards his nose, yellow teeth shining through his beard. Daisy couldn't help but return the expression, her cold cheeks resisting like stone.
"Well I am glad for it," she said, turning her attention back towards Cap, who had stilled for the time being. "You saved his life. I don't know how I can ever thank you for what you did, Dr…" Daisy waited for the man to give his name. He hesitated, eyes fixed on the swirling liquor in his glass.
"I think maybe it's best we don't share too much with one another, miss," the doctor said finally. "The less we know, the less we can tell later on." His words sent a small chill down Daisy's spine and out through her toes, a protest hanging heavy on her lips. The man already knew Cap's identity, so it only seemed fair to exchange the same bit of information. Daisy's trust began to wane, her eyes growing restless as they darted between the two men.
"Miss," the doctor said, again sensing Daisy's agitation. "I know you don't know me, and I know that whatever you been through has been hard on you, but I am a man of my word, and I mean it when I say that no living soul will hear about your whereabouts from my lips. I've got people I love to protect, same as you've got someone you love to protect."
"Love?" the word trailed out of Daisy's mouth.
"It was obvious the second I saw you," the man explained, "that look in your eyes when I finally opened the door. You weren't just in distress – you were on the edge of all reason. I've seen that haunted look a hundred times." He stalled here, weighing his words and the impact they would have on Daisy's fragility.
"It don't ever get easier," he finally said.
X X X
The storm raged on through the night, Daisy turning restlessly in her chair, torn between bitter wakefulness and gnawing rest. Her eyes seemed to flutter open with every pulse of thunder, her gaze finding Cap in the dark to assure herself that this was indeed her new reality. The life she had known was gone, the man before her the only connection she felt to anything real and right. If she lost him, she would lose herself.
As dawn crept with pale fingers up towards the sky, Daisy, finally finding some solace in her sleep, was violently shaken awake by the doctor. His eyes were frantic, the bed he had made himself on the floor little more than a disheveled nest of blankets and skins. Daisy did not need to ask after the man's distress – she could plainly see Cap writhing in pain, his body jumping as if possessed. She was by his side in two long steps, the blanket slipping from her body so that she again stood in only her slip, the morning cold kissing her flesh with goose bumps.
"Cap!" she screamed to his closed eyes, placing her hands on either side of his face the same way he had done the first time they met in the forest. He felt cold and clammy to her touch, even as sweat beaded his forehead. "What is it, doctor? What's happening to him?!"
"Infection," the doctor whispered to no one as he peeled the green paste away from Cap's wound. The skin was raw and red, black veins dancing over the contracting muscles of his stomach.
"What? You said he was going to be OK!" Daisy looked angrily from the doctor back to Cap's lax features, cradling one of his limp hands between her breasts. The man ignored her protests and snapped open his bag, rummaging until he found a glass bottle of clear liquid. He carelessly poured half the contents over the bullet hole before doing the same to a gruesome looking scalpel, larger than any Daisy had ever seen.
"We have to cut the infection before it spreads," the doctor explained, eyes focused on the task at hand. Outside, the early birds of morning were calling in song. "I'd tell you to look away, but I doubt you'd listen." Daisy clenched her jaw in confirmation of her obstinate nature, the first rays of day spilling through the windows.
"Do whatever you have to do to save his life," she said quietly.
The man needed no further prompting. He sliced through the putrid skin as easily as if he were butchering a hog, the scalpel digging deep and clean. Blood pooled and obstructed his view, and still he worked on, the incision growing larger and larger until Daisy was certain that he meant to skin Cap alive. She felt faint at the sight of the carnage, especially when the doctor peeled away the layers of flesh, but she did not falter in her vigilance. She only clutched Cap's hand harder, feeling the bones begin to give under her worry.
With scissors and pins and two more bottles of what Daisy believed to be alcohol, the man worked for a good hour, gelatinous chunks of Cap's insides thrown carelessly into a bedpan at the doctor's feet. When at last he had finished, there was a gash as wide as a hand in Cap's side, but the skin around the wound was unblemished, the angry blackness given over to the pink that started to glow again just beneath the surface. Cap had ceased his violent trembles, his face calm and relaxed, almost peaceful in its unconscious state. The doctor closed the hole with a gruesome line of crude stitches before covering his work with that same foul-smelling green paste, Daisy's nose finally registering the stink in the air.
"Doctor," she began, and the man cut her off.
"I don't know if he'll be OK," he said. "I've done what I can for him. I dare say he needs God's help now – and one helluva nurse."