Poverty Hill
Copyright© 2026 by Asa Strong
Chapter 19
The next few days were kind of a blur. Between the damn pain pills and sleepin’, I didn’t do much besides lay around the house.
Lisa, bless her heart, kept the stock fed and watered. She weren’t doin’ bad, for a city girl.
By Thursday morning, the pain and swellin’ was down and I quit takin’ them pain pills. I didn’t much like medicine to start with and to be honest were afraid of gettin’ to like them pills too much.
When I woke up this mornin’, Lisa were already up and about. I managed to get my pants and boots on and make my way to the kitchen. Lisa weren’t there; she were pro’lly out feeding the stock.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. I’d been a tryin’ to work out in my head where Lisa and I were a goin’ for the past few days. She had stayed with me, and it seemed like she was happy about it too.
I’d never really had any kind of real relationship with a woman before, and was tryin’ to figure out what to do. I were afraid she’d get hurt, caught up in all this mess. But, at the same time, I didn’t want to be away from her either.
“What a mess,” I were a thinkin’ to myself, as Lisa walked in to the kitchen.
She walked over, leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek, and then said, “How you feeling this morning Amos?”
I pulled her down into my lap and then whispered into her ear, “Purty good. You’re damn good medicine for this ol’ cowboy.”
She giggled and then snuggled in closer to me.
We sat there for a few minutes, not sayin’ a thin’, just enjoyin’ being close to one another.
Finally, I asked the question that was a botherin’ me. “Lisa, where we goin’ with this?”
She turned around, grabbed my face and kissed me. She then smiled and said, “You mean you and me?”
I nodded my head.
She waited a minute, and then spoke, “Amos, I don’t know. I don’t know if I love you, but I also don’t want to be away from you either. Crazy isn’t it?”
“Nope, kind a like I feel too.” I responded.
She nodded her head, and then said, “Well, let’s not worry about it too much. We’ll figure it out sooner or later.”
She then worked her way off my lap, stood up and turned around. “You want some breakfast?”
“Yea, I’m a might hungry.”
She walked over to the fridge and pulled out some bacon and a couple eggs. While takin’ out the skillet from the cabinet, she turned around and said, “We have to go to Steamboat today. You need to have the doctor take a look at them stitches in your leg.”
I nodded my head. I was goin’ crazy sittin’ in the house, any excuse to get out was fine with me.
Since my truck had been pretty well shot up, Mark and Miguel had brought Lisa’s car to my place and then towed my truck to Steamboat to see if’n it could be fixed. So, after breakfast, Lisa loaded me in her car, and we took off for Steamboat.
Lisa had one of them Japanese mid-sized cars. It weren’t too bad, but I felt like I were sittin’ in a hole. I guess I’d just gotten used to drivin’ that big ol’ Dodge pickup.
The Doc said my leg was healin’ good and to start walkin’ as much as I could. The bullet had gone though the calf muscle and the exercise would help rebuild the tissue.
As we were gettin’ ready to leave I asked him, “Any reason I can’t ride.”
He looked at me strangely, and then figured out what I were a sayin’.
“I take you’re talking about horse riding?”
I nodded my head in answer.
“I don’t see why not, just don’t overdo it. If your leg starts to hurt, just stop and let it rest for a while.”
That sounded good to me. I had a small group of people coming out in a few days for a trek back into the mountains. They were scientists that were measuring snowfall in the backcountry. I’d guide ‘em back into the mountains, help ‘em get their camp set up, and then come back for ‘em a month or so later. I’d started takin’ this group out last year and couldn’t afford to miss it—they just paid too damn well.
After we left the Doc’s office, we went to see about my truck. Mark had it towed to Ham’s garage, which is just outside of the town, on the west side. Ham was a real character. He’d come from Holland a number of years ago, and still had a very distinct Dutch accent. However, he was a wizard when it came to fixing things.
I directed Lisa to where Ham’s shop was located and when we arrived she turned to me and said, “Amos, this looks like a junk yard!”
I laughed, “Yea, ol’ Ham don’t throw away much.”
Lisa and I managed to find Ham, back out in the yard takin’ the rear end off of a Ford pickup.
He was layin’ underneath the truck and couldn’t see us when we approached.
“Hey, Ham. You got my truck fixed?” I hollered.
“Dat be you, Amos?” He replied.
“Ayup, now what’s up with my truck?”
Ham scooted hisself out from under the Ford, stood up and stretched. I heard a gasp from Lisa; I guessed she weren’t used to seein’ someone who was about six feet ten and built like an industrial refrigerator.
I laughed at Lisa for a moment, and then said, “Ham, this is my girlfriend Lisa. Now, what about my truck?”
Ham introduced himself to Lisa and then informed me that my truck was basically dead. Two bullets had penetrated the engine block and it would have to be replaced. Replacin’ the engine would cost more than the damn truck was worth.
I was really steamed. Somehow, I managed to let Ham know I’d get back to him and thanked him for lookin’ at the truck.
Lisa managed to get me back into the car and I was about ready to explode when she turned and said, “Amos, we’re going to see the judge.”
I were about to say somethin’ when she cut me off, “Don’t argue, you lost your truck because of all this drug business and you shouldn’t have to pay for getting a new one.”
With that said she floored the accelerator and spewed a rooster tail of dust as we left Ham’s parkin’ lot.
Lisa finally calmed down by the time we reached the blacktop road and drove directly to the courthouse.
We found the judge in his chambers. Lisa didn’t waste any time, “Judge McCarthy, you got a problem and it needs to be taken care of now!”
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