"Jake…." her hands trembled as she gathered his prostrate form to her lap. With Jake's head cradled close to her stomach, Teresa leaned forward resting her forehead against his. The light stroke of his breathing felt warm against her lip and she knew she should attempt to wake him. "Jake please...wake up."
Teresa combed her slender fingers through Jake's hair feeling for injury. Giving herself a start, the pad of one finger rediscovered the crescent shaped scar left from when he'd been struck on the head the night of Lucy's abduction. When she found no moist spot of blood; nor, crushing indent at the point of impact, her body relaxed just enough to feel the rushed thuds of feet climbing the barbershops stairs. "Jake….help is coming."
The door swung open with a panicked announcement as two soft soled men barged into the darkened bedroom. "We are late," his voice was even though his rushed manner indicated his worry as Cloud Dancing came down on his haunches at Teresa's side. His eyes flickered from Teresa's bleeding wound just under her ribs, to Jake's sliced finger's, and finally resting on his unconscious face. "I had not foreseen such a thing. But fortunately, this man has a hard head."
Teresa felt a tiny spark of reassurance as she allowed the corners of her mouth to curl up into a fading smile.
"Come on Jake," Sully's voice broke the fine ribbon of sadness in the room. Between himself and Cloud Dancing they hoisted Jake up eliciting a slight groan which made all three of them breath a sigh a relief. Jake's legs wobbled seeming to fight to gain enough strength to help move them along. As Sully attempted to shift under Jake's arm his glance too fell on the way Teresa painfully stood. She was hugging her arm around her waist awkwardly pressing along her stomach. "You've been hurt."
"Please," she ushered the trio with her free arm towards the door. "Just get Jake to the clinic."
"Teresa! Jake!" Hank's roaring voice greeted them halfway up the stairs. Jaw fallen slack, Hank watched Cloud Dancing and Sully cautiously bringing Jake down the stairs. "One little woman did that?"
"Hank, help Teresa," Sully directed passing Hank's aghast form on the stairs. Shaking himself from his stupor, he surged toward Teresa, who was badly affecting the appearance of health as she leaned against the stair rail. "You're bleedin'" Hank gently enveloped her in his arms as he brought her down the stairs.
Reaching the floor of the barbershop, they could see the lamps lighting up the streets of the town. Men were rushing out, some half dressed, others with their boots laced over their long johns. Several haphazardly coated men stomped past Teresa and Hank in order to get to the back end of the barbershop. Teresa squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, feeling Hank's arms tighten around her. They would be tending to the body...To Celina's body.
The night air smelled so eerily sweet as it brushed against her face. She could hear the clink and dull thud of Hank's boots on the wood steps of the barbershop's walk and the rustle and crunch as they came upon the dirt street. Eyes focusing finally on the scene before her, Teresa watched numbly as Cloud Dancing and Sully bypassed the small gathering of people around the clinic's door. Dorothy stood fluttering about Loren's side as he cradled Izzy in his arms. Her tiny hand tightly grasping the fabric of his dove gray waistcoat. He was completely entrenched in her eyes, speaking quietly in order to keep her calm. Matthew who until this point had been holding on to Lucy's hand, as it poked out of his large brown wool coat, bent down and whispered something in her ear. Teresa watched as her daughter nodded with a small smile and tucked herself deeper into the too large article for warmth, as Grace took up Matthew's place with her. Then Matthew joined Robert E., and the two men hurried off into the darkness, towards the back of the barbershop.
"Oh! Dear!" Dorothy's hand flew up to her mouth at the sight of Teresa's blood smudged dress. She swallowed back her words, fearing the worst.
Hank locked eyes with most of those gaping in Teresa's direction, and shot them a warning glare until her sudden halt threw him off his guard. They had just reached the porch where Loren was standing, and Teresa was looking the old man straight in the eye.
"You saved my children," she spoke softly, forgetfully reaching out to touch Loren by the hand. The sudden tug on her wound forced her to wince with discomfort, causing Lucy to break free of Grace and run to her mother. With the long sleeves of Matthew's coat draping over her short arms, Lucy attempted to embrace her mother's skirts. As best she could Teresa fought to hide her pain once more as she caressed Lucy's face, which was resting on her hip.
"I am alright, my heart." Teresa soothed. "We will all be safe now…" She looked up into Loren's worried gaze. "We are among family now."
"Ummm….Ms. Teresa?" Horace fumbled awkwardly moving to hover over her.
"Not now Horace!" Hank blustered. "Can't you see she's hurt!"
Horace narrowed his gaze a bit stricken by Hank's outburst. However, Teresa shook her head as she indicated for Horace to continue.
"Wah well, what I mean is...when yah get the chance, yah might wanna talk with Mah Mr. Marrow over there," he pointed in the direction of the side stairs leading to the second floor of the clinic. There she witnessed a short rather quivering man, stepping unsure of himself about the gate that closed off the stairs. Her curiosity peaked, however, before she could take another step her heart skipped a beat in her chest.
"In a moment," it was almost a whisper. "I must know how Jake is doing."
Horace nodded stretching back his lips. "Course he'll be in good hands...That is ….once Dr. Mike's finished with Mr. McCoy."
Teresa knit her brows turning suddenly to stare from Horace then to Hank. "Mr. McCoy? Yes! Celina said she had done something to him. She told me she had killed him!"
"Oh no! Not dead," Horace continued oblivious to the fact that such news would clearly be the icing on this diminishing cake. "He's just hurt real bad. We were gonna ride out tah get help when Cloud Dancin' and Sully showed up like they knew exactly what was goin' on! An' th-"
"Hush now!" it was Grace brushing Horace and Hank away from Teresa. "You all are frightening these children!" Her voice grew soft and thick like honey on a summer day, "Come on now and sit down here." She ushered Teresa to take up the bench along the clinics wall. Helping Lucy to climb up onto her mother's lap without hurting her, Grace then whispered close to Teresa's ear. "How bad are yah hurt?"
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Even with her attention purely focused on Randall, Michaela had been able to feel the vibrations of oncoming horses. As her fingers expertly sliced away the bad flesh and had delicately begun the process of suturing the wound closed, she was aware of bodies rushing past the windows outside. Until the last of Randall's wound was sewn, she'd resigned herself to ignoring the shouts of the quickly illuminating town. Knowing that she must revive her concussed patient, Michaela was en route to retrieve her smelling salts when Katie quietly entered the room.
"Katie?" after a pause, Michaela continued on her path to revive Randall. "What's happening out there?"
"Oh Ma," Katie had come forward, taking her apron off it's hook and putting it on.. "We rushed as fast as we could to help Lucy. But Pa and Cloud Dancing... got lost in the dark."
This had given Michaela pause, as she and her daughter shared knowing looks. If there were any two men in the world who could find their way through the wilderness blindfolded, it was those two men. Katie quieted as she watched her mother administer the smelling salt under Randall's nose...Nothing at first. Then slowly the skin beneath his eyes twitched. There was a brief flash of cerealine blue under the dusky blonde of his lashes and his round flesh toned lips shifted.
"Randall?" Michaela spoke softly as she'd gently rested her arm on his. "You're at the clinic. You're safe."
"Ss-sss-ss-afe," he managed to push out. "Nooot sssafe. Help them."
It was then that the clinic door burst open. The hullabaloo of the street spilled in with the rushed duo dragging Jake in between them
xxx
He felt a strange concoction of weightless, heaviness. A thick confusion of gauze wrapped around his mind, which was drunkenly scrabbling to recall the world he belonged to. Yes! Something happened… Someone he was supposed to protect. Heart thumping deep inside a forgotten well. Heart remembering what the mind had lost. Heart whorling and igniting with an ach so deep and strong, it seemed to be searching. Searching with tendril like silver threads out to the waking world.
Suddenly, as he was floating up in the ether of his consciousness, a sharp spark erupted in the cage of his physical body. The silver threads grasped hold reverberating back to his memory. Her face. Her frightened face, washing over with relief. The feel of her warm skin against his own. The breath from her nose tickling at his upper lip. He was supposed to protect her….but something had gone wrong. With the presence of her, his heart thumped again, silver threads dancing out and pulling him closer to the waking world.
Sharp spark! The weightlessness was ebbing and the heaviness was pulsing and throbbing. Another spark! He was sure he'd felt a fuzzy twitch to his face. No longer able to feel her skin, and with the sensation of her breath gone, he watched her face pull back. Fear again. Jake!
"Teresa," the vocal vibration was outside the echoing room of his mind. The weak sound, however low or garbled, created a cluster of sparks all around his head causing a shudder.
"Jake?" a feminine voice, clear and streaming, called to him. "Do you know where you are?"
It's not Teresa. The ach grew more forceful now, wanting, craving her solid presence.
"Jake," his name on her lips was demanding. "Jake you are at the clinic. . . Do you understand now?"
The clinic? Dr. Mike? The shell wrapped around his mind began to rumble. His head was trying to turn, trying to rise in order to….What?
"No, Jake! Try not to move," her voice again. "Jake listen to me. You have a concussion. Your hand is badly hurt. I can't put you under for this. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
Strong scenes flashed before him. Metal slicing through flesh, blood dripping and pooling. He'd done it. Wrapped his hand around the sharp curved blade. Small price to pay. Small in the scheme of things. To...Save. To save who? Not just Teresa. More scenes flashed forward. Two small, tiny forms cowering in each others arms. Two little souls, he'd paid the price to keep safe. Lucy! Izzy! The silver threads locked tight, strong as diamond rope. Unbreakable. All at once he felt his body crash down like an anvil. Head throbbing and threatening to break open, fingers flaring with a fiery pain, and all at once he was aware of the vise like grip around his legs and his wrists.
"Try not to fight, Jake," Dr. Mike's voice was stern. "Sully and Cloud Dancing are here. They're holding you down so you won't jerk while I'm working."
Her voice would fade and come back strong again. "I need to reattach the cut tendons here and here," she said to someone over her shoulder. He felt pricks of fiery anger where she poked and prodded with her instruments. "The rest of the muscles in the fingers appear to be intact. No major artery damage…. Sully hold firm. I'm going to begin."
***Sorry folks! That's all for now. There will be a couple more chapters to finish this baby up. I promise. I solemnly promise I will finish this story. And I swear I am not crossing my fingers over here. ***