Red Thunder

~Chapter Three: Part III~

Winnie:

I hurried from the barn and to the house, the smile on my face in stark contrast to the blood on my hands. After all this time, Red Thunder was actually here! Years of praying, hoping, and wishing had finally paid off.

But my Indian was hurt. Badly hurt, and I needed to fix him up quickly and discreetly. It would be at least three weeks before he was ready to leave on his own, I estimated. After that, he would disappear once again...

I shook off those sad thoughts, urging myself to focus on the present. I would have to work very hard to keep him hidden. Red Thunder needed to be brought food, water, medicine, a chamber pot, and other necessities during his stay. This would not be an easy injury to recover from and he was already running a slight fever: a sign of infection. I needed to keep a close eye on him for the next few days. If the wound festered, there would only be so much I could do for him.

Determination in my every stride, I stopped by the back door to rinse my hands with some water from Shep's bowl, and then wiped my hands clean on some grass before stepping inside. There, I found my mother busy in the kitchen as usual, but my father and brother were gone.

Feeling a bit alarmed, I asked my mother, "Mama, where's Papa and Georgie?"

She looked up quickly and smiled warmly, just noticing I was there. "Oh you're back! They went out for some target practice a little while ago. You know how determined your brother is to learn to shoot as good as your father one day."

I nodded with relief. They weren't going to the barn!

"Where's your basket dear?" My mother prompted.

I blushed and forced down the welling panic. "I stopped by my garden to do a little harvesting. I just came in for some water." I lied calmly, hoping my guilt wasn't obvious.

Mama nodded, not even glancing up from her work dicing potatoes. I let out a short breath of relief. I was not used to lying!

"Well go on and get a glass from the jug, you're wasting daylight!" she instructed.

I did so, drinking the cool liquid down quickly. I hadn't realized I was so thirsty! Thinking of poor Red Thunder sent a sharp pain through my heart, surely he was very thirsty himself.

"Mama, can I fill one of the bottles to take with me?" I asked. "I am probably going to be working until supper."

She nodded again, readily believing my little fib. Well, it wasn't a complete lie; I would be working until supper. Just not on my garden!

"Of course, go on then honey," my mother told me, nodding her head towards the cupboard.

I smiled and perched on my tiptoes to open the cabinet and retrieve a glass bottle, then filled it up from the big water jug.

"Well, I'm just going to grab a few things and I'll be on my way," I told Mama, acting as casual as I could.

"Alright then, just remember, dinner will be served at six so don't be late!" she said seriously. It definitely would not be the first time I lost track of time and was tardy for a meal.

I smiled at her as I exited down the hall. "I won't!"

This was easier than I thought! My mother didn't seem the least bit suspicious. Hopefully it would stay that way.

Opening the door to my bedroom, I quickly gathered my leather satchel of medical instruments and placed them in my basket of ready-to-use herbs, bandages, and medicines. That done, I hurried out the back door, practically sprinting across the field to the barn. I quietly trotted up the stairs on tiptoe with my items, and set them on the small nightstand beside the bed. My eyes immediately went to Red Thunder, looking him up and down to assess his condition.

Well, he had not gotten better, that was for certain. Not that I had expected him to, but he was still alive, and had not bled out onto the bed. My Indian's brow was collecting beads of sweat, and his breathing was becoming more labored. The bandages around his back were redder than I had left them. Red Thunder was unconscious, which was good. If he were lucky, he would sleep through the whole ordeal to come.

I swiftly set to work.

First, I rifled through my supplies, taking out a clean rag, container of water, and bottle of rubbing alcohol. Wetting the cloth with some of the water, I undid his bandages and gently cleaned away the herbs and crusted blood. It was good that the laceration was starting to form a gooey clot, but I couldn't remove a bullet from a scabbed over wound. Red Thunder groaned and groggily opened his eyes, dark pools of the deepest brown, almost black, blinking up at me. He really wasn't a lucky fellow...