Chapter 2

The woman proved to be non-responsive. Ben called out to her a couple of times, first identifying who he was, and then reassuring her that he meant her and her family no harm. It hadn’t help. The woman seemed to be oblivious to his presence. All she seemed capable of doing was to lie curled up in a ball in the dirt of the trail, next to the body of the man that had stripped her naked, and who’d threatened to slit her throat, and sob loudly.

Ben felt frustrated. He thought back to the training that he’d been given before the people at the detention centre had sent him here, back in time. They’d used the most advanced training systems available to his society to make certain that he was prepared for his experience in the past, embedding much of it into his mind so he could recall it and use it if needed, and they’d put him through hours of repetitive drills to ensure for themselves that he’d be able to recall and use that training, but surprisingly, Ben realized that they hadn’t thought to train him in how to deal with a terrified, almost petrified woman. He’d have to speak to them about that, when and if he ever got back; for now Ben was on his own.

What made matters worse was the fact that the woman wasn’t the only person who was petrified. Ben had spotted the two youngsters that had been hiding in the box of the big farm wagon, watching him as he’d stepped around the dead mules that had pulled the wagon and as he’d approached the sobbing woman Ben had noted that the two youngsters had looked at him with eyes filled with wide-eyed fear.

It was clear to him that he wasn’t going to get any help from them. He also wasn’t going to get any help from the man who’d been driving the wagon. He’d been clubbed by one of the men Ben had shot and killed, at the start of the fracas that had drawn Ben to come to the aid of these people, and the man hadn’t moved since. He was either unconscious or dead. That thought made Ben sigh aloud and shake his head, still baffled as what to do next.

That question was answered by the sound of a horse moving about off to his left. The sound caught Ben’s attention, snapping him out of his woolgathering, and pumping his adrenaline up once more. With honed reflexes, Ben spun around, turning towards the sound. As he turned he brought up his big rifle and cocked it. To his surprise, Ben found himself gazing into the face of an elderly woman.

“Steady lawman,” the old woman muttered from where she sat, mounted upon an Indian pony. “I mean you no harm.”

Ben blinked. The woman, obviously a member of a local native tribe, was staring at him with a look of amusement upon her face. She was dressed in buckskins, including moccasins upon her feet, and from the look of it, her clothes were of excellent quality. It suggested to Ben that the woman was either very skilled with her hands, or that she was someone of importance in her tribe. He also noted that the woman was leading his big bay mare, behind her pony.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Ben stated truthfully, lowering his rifle as he spoke to the woman, “but you took me by surprise, and as you can see, I’ve got a bit of a problem on my hands.”

“I can see that, lawman,” the old woman stated. “I heard shots while riding towards the northwest and I came to investigate. I found this horse wandering free, and I watched you deal with the bad men that abused this woman and her family. I also saw that once the battle was over, that you were at a loss as what to do next. I am here to help. You may call me Blossom.”

With that the old woman dismounted her pony. She simply threw her right leg up and over the neck of her mount, and then with an ease that must have been acquired over decades of riding, the woman dropped down to the ground. Ben was impressed.

“You take care of horses,” Blossom commanded Ben, handing him the lead rope of her pony and the reins of his horse. “I will deal with the woman and her children.”

“There’s a man as well,” Ben stated as Blossom stepped past Ben and towards the woman who hadn’t really taken any notice of them. “He’s on the far side of the wagon. He might be unconscious or dead. I haven’t checked him yet.”

Blossom grunted an acknowledgement to Ben. She glanced in the direction he’d pointed and then she let out a heavy sigh.

“I will deal with woman and children first,” Blossom declared in a matter of fact manner. “I know that they are alive and they need help. Once I am done, I will look at the man. You go and deal with horses, and then deal with the dead.”

Dismissed, Ben went as he’d been told. He took his mount and Blossom’s pony over to the stream to allow them to have a drink. He made certain that it was a short drink letting them drink enough to refresh themselves for the time being since he had other work to do. Once they had, Ben turned the animals loose on the other side of the ford, hobbling both animals so they wouldn’t wander off. When he had done that, he turned his attention to the dead men, and more importantly their mounts. He went off in search of them.

Ben found their horses a few moments later. There were five of them, four were carrying working saddles on their backs with the fifth fitted with a packsaddle and frame. They’d been tethered to some saplings downstream from the ford. Once he had found them, Ben gathered them up and led them back along the stream so he could hobble them with his own mount and Blossom’s pony. After that he’d turn his attention to dealing with the bodies of the men.

“You need to unhitch them mules and drag them off,” Blossom shouted over at Ben, as he was hobbling the last of the dead men’s horses. “If you don’t, predators will come here and then you will have to deal with them.”

Ben looked up from what he’d been doing and glanced towards Blossom. He found her standing at the ford looking pointedly at him with her hands on her waist. He noted that the woman was now up, and that Blossom had her sitting on the bank of the stream with her feet dangling in the cold water that flowed by. He also noticed that the woman’s naked form was now covered up with some blanket that Blossom had obviously found for her to drape over herself. The woman still looked out of it, to Ben.

“I wasn’t planning on staying here,” Ben shouted back at Blossom as he turned his attention back to her. “I thought maybe it would be best to move on.”

Blossom shrugged her shoulders, indicating her indifference. Then she fixed an eye on him and shared with him a piece of wisdom.

“Whether you plan to stay or go, don’t make no difference,” Blossom pointed out bluntly. “The mules still need to be moved.”

Ben started at that and then shook his head and chuckled to himself for the first time since he’d gotten himself involved in this situation. The old native woman was correct; the mules did need to be moved, regardless of whether they stayed there or not. Ben had just not realized that yet. He’d been reacting to the situation, and going through the motions, ticking off the boxes as he’d done all his life up to this point.

Blossom was thinking ahead, and acting. Ben would have to start doing that, if he wanted to survive long enough to get home. With that thought in mind, Ben got back to work.

Ben spent the next three hours working his ass off. For the first time in his life Ben had actually worked up a sweat. If it hadn’t been for what he’d been dealing with, he’d have bragged about it. He didn’t, though. Instead he paused to have a drink of water from his canteen, and to take a look at what Blossom had been up to, while he’d done all the grunt work.

Truthfully, Blossom had been just as busy as Ben. The only difference was that Blossom had been dealing with the victims of this confrontation, while Ben had dealt with the evil doers, carting off their bodies once he’d finished dragging the remains of the mules away. Now that had been a chore.

“I’m done,” Ben declared as he walked over to the small camp that Blossom had set up by the stream. “How are things going here?”

Blossom looked up from fussing over the driver of the wagon. The man was up, sort of, and seated with his back to a cottonwood. Blossom was kneeling next to him, pressing a rag up against the man’s face.

“The woman and children are better,” Blossom stated plainly. “I made them a calming tea, and it seems to be working. The man is awake, but he is groggy and the cut below his eye is deep. I will need to look for something to close it up.”

Ben nodded his head in understanding and then glanced off across the stream towards where his horse was hobbled. As he did, a light came on in his head and he smiled.

“I’ve got a medical kit in my saddlebags,” Ben admitted proudly. “I’ll go get it for you. There should be something in it that you can use.”

Blossom simply grunted an acknowledgement to what Ben had told her, but other than that she said nothing. Ben took that grunt to mean ‘go on and get it’ and that is what he did. He strolled across the ford, and then walked over to where his horse stood grazing. Once there he rooted about in his saddlebags looking for the medical kit. A few minutes later he had it in hand and went back to where Blossom was still kneeling.

“Why don’t you let me take care of him,” Ben suggested as he stood there holding the medical kit in his hand. “I’ve been trained how to use this kit, and there might be some things in it that you haven’t used before.”

Blossom looked up at Ben in response to his suggestion. She fixed her gaze on him for a moment. It was a steely gaze and it made Ben suddenly realize that he could have worded things better when he’d made that suggestion.

“Are you healer as well as lawman?” Blossom asked bluntly.

“Not really,” Ben admitted, “but I have been taught how to use this kit, in case of emergencies.”

“I am healer of my people,” Blossom stated sharply. “I may not know some things that you know, but caring for people is my job. You may watch and help.”

Ben took the hint then and there and shut his mouth. Even so, he did hand over the medical kit. Blossom took it and looked it over.

The kit was in a small, rolled up buckskin carrier. It had been rolled neatly when Ben had handed it to Blossom, held together by two rawhide thongs each tied in a bow. Blossom had freed the bows and unrolled the kit laying it on the ground next to the injured man. As Ben looked on, the old woman perused the contents of the kit.

The contents of the kit was stored in individual pockets sewn into the interior of the carrier. For the most part the items were basic, and period appropriate. The only things that weren’t period appropriate were the bar of antiseptic soap, a small tin that contained an antibiotic cream and a small bottle of white pills.

“What is special, here,” Blossom asked quizzically after a second or two, glancing up at Ben as she spoke.

Ben told her. He explained that the soap should be used to clean her hands and then the wound to get all the dirt out of it so that the wound wouldn’t fester. Then he pointed to the tin of cream and told the woman that she should use that once the wound had been stitched up. The only other thing that Ben pointed out in the kit as being special was the small bottle of white pills. They were aspirin. Ben told Blossom to give a couple of them to help the man cope with any pain he was feeling. Blossom snorted at that.

“Pain tells a person they are alive,” the old woman quipped, “but you might be right about giving him the white pills. I would have preferred to use willow bark tea, but I have none with me. We will see about the pain once we are done.”

With that Blossom got to work. She did use the antiseptic soap to wash her hands and the wound. Ben pointed out the sterile cloth in the kit for her to use as she worked on the wound. Once she had the gash in the man’s face cleaned she sewed it up, making good use of the sterile surgical needle and thread that had come with Ben’s kit. Next, Blossom put a little of the antibiotic cream on the closed wound just as Ben had told her to do. She then finished up her work by taping a piece of sterile gauze over the wound. Ben had to show Blossom how to use the tape as it was a relatively new tool in the here and now and it wasn’t something that the old woman was familiar with. When she was done, Blossom handed the kit back to Ben.

“That is a good bag,” Blossom indicated as she placed it in Ben’s hands. “Very useful. Now do you have food?”

Ben blinked in response to the suddenness of the question. He didn’t know how to reply for a moment or two, and it didn’t help him at all that his stomach decided to take that moment to make a sound that clearly indicated that it was empty and in need of being filled. Ben blushed openly when that happened.

“Umm, some,” Ben replied sheepishly when he found his tongue. “I’ve got a grub bag on my horse.”

“Good,” Blossom declared without pause. “You go and fetch the food and bring it here. These people have none and I think they have not eaten in days. Check the other men’s horses as well. There may be food there. Now go and do. Bring cooking pot, too, if you find one.”

Ben was across the stream and halfway to his horse before he suddenly realized that Blossom had taken charge of matters once again. That realization brought him to an abrupt halt. He had to shake his head in disbelief at how the old woman seemed to know what to do and when to do it, while Ben seemed to be entirely oblivious to what had to be done. He chided himself once more for letting it happen. Then, with a smile, he got back to work. Blossom had sent him for food and Ben intended to get it.

It turned out that the dead men had a lot more in the way of food and kit then Ben had been provided with on his trip back in time. Realizing that, Ben made another mental note to himself to bring up the point once he got back home. In the meantime, Ben focused on the task at hand. He did thank his lucky stars that the food the men had brought with them looked edible. To Ben that was a definite plus.

The food wasn’t the only thing that Ben found while rooting around in the panniers hanging off the pack frame and the saddlebags of the dead men. He also found a cast iron skillet, a cooking pot, and a camp pot for making coffee. Additionally, he found some reasonably clean clothing that he figured that the woman could use. Ben bundled them up under his arm and brought them back with him, when he returned to the camp.

“I’ve found some clean clothing amongst the gear the men had,” Ben declared on arriving at the camp. “I figured the woman could wear them until we found her something else to put on.”

Blossom grunted her now familiar grunt in response. She first took the skillet, the cooking pot, and the coffee pot from Ben, putting them down one at a time by the campfire she’d made. Then she took the sacks of food away from him, looking into each of them before lying them down on the ground by the fire as well. Finally she took the rolled up bundle of clothing from Ben. These she thrust at the woman.

“Here,” Blossom said curtly to the woman. “Take the clothing and go upstream a bit. Clean yourself and get dressed. Then come back here. It is time you did some work.”

The woman looked into Blossom’s face for a second or two, meeting the older woman’s gaze. She looked like she was going to say something, but she didn’t. Instead the woman took the proffered bundle of clothing and then without any ado, she stood up. As she did, the woman shucked the coarse blanket that had been covering her nakedness up to that point. She took no note of what she’d done. Instead she simple turned and walked away, just as Blossom had instructed her to do, heading upstream from where Blossom had made the camp.

“She will be fine, soon,” Blossom muttered reassuringly to Ben as she watched the woman disappear behind a clump of brush. “I will work with her, so for now you let her be. You need to work some more. We will be staying night. Tend to the horses.”

Ben didn’t need to be told twice. He also had no desire to argue with the old woman. He’d given up on that earlier in the day when Blossom had chided him when he was stripping the bodies of the dead. Ben had gone and dealt with them after having dragged the dead mules off. He’d gone through their pockets, collected up their fallen weapons, powder horns, and ammunition pouches, but he’d refrained from taking anything else. Blossom had insisted that he strip them naked. When Ben had demanded to know why, Blossom had told him pointedly the facts of life, here on the frontier. She had stated plainly that everything that the men owned, including their bloodstained shirts and their long underwear had some value no matter how little. At the very least the bloody clothing could be turned into rags.

Then she told Ben to look into the wagon box and to see just what the former occupants of the wagon actually had with them. Ben had done so, and to his surprise, Ben had found out that the box of the wagon was empty except for a thin, straw filled pallet, a couple of soiled blankets that could use a good washing, and an old shovel. There was nothing else. When Ben had finished looking, he knew then and there that the runaway slaves had nothing to their names, and anything including the bloody clothing that had belonged to their former attackers was of value to them. With that chastisement in mind, Ben went off and did as he was told.

Ben tended to his own animal first. He removed the saddle from the animal along with the saddlebags, his bedroll, and the horse’s bridle. He then toted everything over to where the camp had been made. Once there he piled everything off to one side to be dealt with later. As he turned about to depart, Ben noted that the two youngsters weren’t there.

“What happened to the boys?” Ben asked Blossom, his voice indicating his curiosity and nothing else.

“I put them to work gathering wood for the fire,” Blossom replied promptly and with little concern. “I will send them to help you when they are done.”

Ben thanked the woman as he stepped away and headed back towards where the horses were hobbled. Blossom simply grunted as she always did in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to preparing supper. Ben just let it be and got back to work himself. He dealt with the four saddled horses next. He ended up carrying their saddles and tack over to the wagon to be stored there for now. He’d figure out what to do with it later. He did drop off the men’s bedrolls by the fire. He left them for Blossom to take care of.