Chapter 37

Shadow Valley – Texas 1871

Buck's calloused hands were remarkably gentle as he tended to Halona, carefully cleaning the superficial cuts that marred her delicate features with a damp cloth. Those were mere scratches, easily brushed off and forgotten. It was the jagged gash along her hairline that demanded his full attention now.

He gingerly untangled her ebony locks from the sticky mess of drying blood, his brow creasing with concern as he examined the wound. "This one's gonna need stitching up," he murmured, the deep timbre of his voice laced with worry.

Halona winced, a sharp hiss escaping through clenched teeth as his fingers probed the tender area. "I need to see a doctor," she insisted, her words coming out breathless and reedy.

"Going into town ain't an option right now, darlin'," Buck reminded her softly. He clasped her hand between his work-roughened palms, anchoring her with his steady presence. "But we can take care of this here. It's not as bad as it looks."

"Take care of it here?" Halona echoed, disbelief and a hint of fear coloring her tone as she pulled back slightly to search his face. "What do you mean?"

Undeterred, Buck simply squeezed her hand reassuringly before sinking down to kneel beside her. He reached out to brush an errant lock of hair from her ashen cheek with surprising tenderness. "It's just a few stitches is all, Halona. You need to try and relax for me."

"Are you kidding me?" She protested weakly, her eyes growing wide with panic as the reality sank in. "You're not a doctor!"

Buck held her gaze steadily with his own. "I've had to do this before, more'n a couple times even - stitched myself up on the trail when there weren't no other choice." His deep voice was soothing.

As if on cue, Isaac suddenly materialized beside them, his small hand finding Halona's in a show of silent support. "Pa stitched me up once too," the boy piped up helpfully. "It ain't so bad, really."

Buck cast an appreciative look towards his son. "You see? Now Isaac, why don't you run fetch me that bottle in the kitchen cupboard? The one with the brown liquid."

The boy's eyes lit up with understanding and he bobbed his head before turning to scamper off towards the kitchen area. He returned moments later, a dusty glass bottle clutched triumphantly in his grip.

"Perfect," Buck praised, taking the half-empty bottle of whiskey and uncorking it with a pop. He wet a clean strip of cloth with the pungent amber liquid. "This is gonna sting some, but it'll help clean that cut right up."

Before Halona could raise another protest, he pressed the alcohol-soaked fabric firmly against the ragged gash above her brow. She cried out, a piercing wail that echoed hollowly off the log walls as white-hot pain lanced through her. Chest heaving, she clung desperately to the bottle of whiskey, taking a long, gasping swig in a feeble attempt to dull the searing throb.

Buck methodically threaded an oversized needle, the sight of it enough to make Halona's head spin dizzily. Surely that monstrous thing couldn't possibly be intended for her? She swallowed hard against a rising wave of nausea.

"You ready, now?" Buck asked gruffly, jaw set in grim determination as he gripped the improvised surgical thread.

Halona took another fortifying gulp of the harsh whiskey, its slow burn a welcome distraction from the pain. She managed a jerky nod, unable to give voice around the lump of dread in her throat.

But as soon as Buck leaned in, needle leading the way, her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped against the rickety table in a dead faint.

Relief, tinged with a flicker of dark amusement, flickered across Buck's weathered features. "City folk..." he muttered under his breath and grinned at Isaac who laughed along with him. Seeing Halona's wide eyes flutter shut was honestly a blessing in disguise - stitching her up while she was unconscious would be far easier on them both.

"Don't you worry now, pumpkin," he soothed Megan, who had begun to sniffle at Halona's sudden collapse. "Hallie's just restin' is all." He stroked the girl's head softly.

And with that, Buck set about his grisly work with grim efficiency. By the time he finished, Halona's wounds were neatly stitched and bandaged. As he stood back to survey his handiwork, Buck felt a renewed sense of resolve settle in the pit of his stomach. This latest incident only solidified what he'd suspected for a while now - staying put in Shadow Valley would only lead to more violence, more bloodshed. Their departure may have been delayed, but leaving was the only way to ensure his family's safety in the long run.