Chapter 2
Shadow Valley, Texas - March 1872
Buck cursed under his breath, the sound swallowed by the chaos erupting in the dusty street. The thunder of hooves and the crack of gunfire had been bad enough, but the bloodcurdling scream that followed sent a jolt of adrenaline through him. He tossed the bag of oats he was carrying aside, the grain scattering in the wind. His gaze fell on the source of the scream - a woman, her face a mask of terror, sprinting towards the hitching post where his horses were tied.
One of the bays, spooked by the ruckus, reared back, its powerful hind legs lashing out. A sickening thud echoed as the hoof connected with something fragile. Buck's stomach lurched. He was already running before he fully registered the scene.
He skidded to a stop beside the crumpled figure lying in the dirt. A young girl, no older than ten, whimpered in pain, her leg twisted at an unnatural angle. Guilt gnawed at Buck. This was his fault. He shouldn't have left his horses unattended.
Taking a deep breath, he knelt beside her, ignoring the throbbing in his knee from the hasty descent. A glance confirmed his worst fear - a clean break above the knee. He needed to get her to Doc Evans fast, but moving her would be agonizing.
"Hey there," he spoke gently, his voice rough around the edges. "It's going to be okay. I'm Buck, and I'm going to help you."
The girl, her face streaked with tears and grit, looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes. "It hurts." She whimpered her voice barely a whisper.
"I know, honey." Buck soothed, his calloused hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead.
He evaluated his options. He couldn't risk lifting her and worsening the injury. He signaled for one of his workers to come over and bring a blanket from the buckboard. Swiftly, he spread the blanket beside her. He knelt next to the young girl, held her hands, and squeezed them tightly.
Buck felt a glimmer of relief at the girl's slight nod. Her trust, so readily given despite the pain, touched his heart. "That's a brave girl," he murmured, his voice softer than usual.
He looked at the woman, he assumed was her mother, her face marked with a desperate worry mirroring his unease. "You should go settle in the doctor's waiting room," he advised, his voice firm but gentle. "It'll be easier on her if you're not right here when we move her."
The woman hesitated, her eyes flitting between Buck and her daughter.
"Alright," the woman finally conceded, her voice hoarse. "But please, be careful."
Buck dipped his head in a silent nod. He knew the pain that awaited the girl, the inevitable scream that would tear through the now silent street. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the task at hand.
"Alright, sweetheart," he said to the girl, his voice low and reassuring. "We're going to lift you onto the blanket now. Remember, it'll hurt, but it'll be over quickly."
With his worker, Jeb, at his side, Buck carefully maneuvered the girl. The scream came, sharp and raw, echoing through the dusty street. Buck gritted his teeth, a silent apology forming on his lips. He knew there was no way to avoid the pain, but the sight of the girl's contorted face still sent a pang of guilt through him.
Once she was settled on the blanket, her whimpers replacing the scream, they lifted her together and carried her towards the doctor's office, a somber procession watched by the curious eyes of the townsfolk.
He reached the weathered wooden sign above the doctor's office in record time and burst through the swinging doors. The smell of disinfectant and something vaguely medicinal assaulted him. A wiry man with a bushy mustache and spectacles perched on his nose looked up from behind a cluttered desk.
"Doc Evans?" Buck's voice was a low growl. "We need you now!"
Doc Evans, his initial surprise giving way to a practiced efficiency, gestured towards a curtained doorway. "Put her on the table in there. I'll be right with you."
The flickering gaslight cast long shadows on the walls of the doctor's exam room as they carried the young girl inside. Buck laid the girl down gently on the worn examination table, her whimpers turning into choked sobs. He glanced at the woman, who seemed rooted to the spot, her face pale and drawn.
"It's alright, ma'am," Buck said, his voice softer than moments before. "Doc Evans is the best around. He'll take care of her."
Her mother and sister, faces etched with worry, were ushered into the waiting room. Buck took his place beside the girl on the worn leather examination table, his large hand engulfing hers. Tears welled up in her eyes, staining her cheeks, but Buck's gentle touch and quiet murmurs seemed to offer a sliver of comfort.
The doctor entered with a grim expression. He unhurriedly examined the girl's injured leg, his brow furrowing as he probed the tender area. Buck felt a knot of dread tighten in his stomach. He'd seen his fair share of broken bones in his time, and the grimace on the doctor's face wasn't a good sign.
Instead of the usual laudanum many folks used for pain, the doctor reached for a small vial filled with a clear liquid. "Here," he rasped, handing Buck a chipped porcelain cup and a measure. "Get her to swallow some of this. It'll take the edge off a bit."
Buck's brow furrowed. He knew the concoction – a potent tincture with a reputation for being more mind-numbing than pain-numbing. Still, with no better options available, he carefully dosed the girl, her small hand trembling against his. It wasn't much, but it was all they had.
The doctor, with a resigned sigh, instructed Buck to hold the girl steady. The air grew thick with anticipation as the doctor set about his grim task. A choked gasp escaped the girl's lips soon followed by a heart-wrenching cry. Buck gritted his teeth, his own body tensing with the effort of holding her still. But even the potent tincture couldn't hold back all the pain.
Thankfully, within a few agonizing moments, her screams subsided, replaced by shallow, ragged breathing. Relief washed over Buck as exhaustion settled in his bones. The ordeal was over, at least for now. The girl might be pale and weak, but at least the bone was set.
"How will that leg be?" Buck asked, his voice strained as he watched Doctor Evans bind the girl's leg with wooden slats and strips of rough cloth.
"Honestly?" Doctor Evans straightened, his weathered face etched with concern. "It's a nasty break. We've set it, but there's no guarantee how well it'll mend."
Buck swallowed hard, the doctor's words settling heavily in his gut. He knew the hardships a poorly healed fracture could bring. Taking a deep breath, he walked back to the waiting room where Desiree sat, her knuckles white as she gripped the armrest.
"The doctor reset the bone," Buck began, his voice as reassuring as he could manage. "He's stabilizing it now."
Relief flickered in Desiree's eyes, mirrored by her daughter Bethany, who offered a weak smile. "That's good, right?" Bethany whispered, her voice barely audible.
"It's the best we can do for now," Buck said, his gaze dropping to his hat which he nervously fingered. "She's going to need rest and a place to recover for a while."
"We just arrived in town," Desiree confessed, a flicker of worry returning to her face.
"Well then," Buck said, a sudden determination forming in his mind. "The least I can do is help you find somewhere to stay while your daughter mends."
A flicker of surprise, followed by a hesitant smile, touched Desiree's lips. "That's very kind of you, sir."
"Sorry, ma'am," Buck stumbled, extending his hand. "I'm Buck Cross."
Desiree shook his hand warmly. "Desiree Mills," she said. "This is my daughter, Bethany."
Bethany offered Buck a shy nod. "Nice to meet you, sir."
"There's a nice home down by the church that is for lease." Buck put his hat on and nodded. "If you'll excuse me, I'll make arrangements for you there."
Desiree watched the tall stranger disappear down the dusty street, a wave of gratitude washing over her. This unexpected kindness from a stranger offered a glimmer of hope amidst the hardship. She glanced at Bethany, perhaps, Desiree thought, this misfortune might just lead them to an unexpected bit of good fortune.