He took one look at my arm and said, “I ain’t gonna lie to you, it’s bad.”

“Am I gonna die?” I said.

“You would have died,” he said, “but I can fix this.”

“How?”

“We’ll have to take that arm off.”

“You mean cut it off?”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Will it hurt?”

“It will.”

“Should I get drunk first?”

He laughed. “There ain’t enough whiskey in Springfield to keep it from hurtin’, but if you get drunk enough to pass out, that’ll probably help. But I’ll need to strap you to my table before I start cuttin’.”

Well, I was right upset about it, and figured if this was my last night to hold a drink in my right hand, I’d rather drink the best liquor in the state, and that type of spirits was located at Rose’s ranch. I showed up there and told her my story, and she shook her head.

“Let me see that arm,” she said.

She took one look at it and said, “It’s badly infected, and getting worse by the minute.”

“Am I gonna die?” I said.

“You would have died,” she said, “but I can fix this.”

“You got a good saw?”

“I don’t cut people’s arms off, Emmett.”

She boiled some kind of birch bark in water and poked it awhile ’til the water turned brown. Then she made me drink it.

“Damn, that tastes awful!” I shouted.

“Would you rather have Doc Inman cut your arm off?”

I sniffed the water.

“I believe I might,” I said, but I was kiddin’.

I drank the potion and immediately got the trots.

She gave me more potion and I wound up with what Rose called an upset stomach. A better description is that she gave me the drizzlin’ shits.

That night was rough, but two days later I felt like a new man. I couldn’t wait to try out my new arm, so I went to see Doc Inman. I lifted him off the ground with the same arm he was gonna cut off. Then I used it to drag him out to the water trough, and tossed him in it. When he come up, gaspin’ for air, I dunked him under again. I woulda done it again, and told him why, but then I remembered how Rose made me promise not to give her credit for fixin’ my arm.

“Why not?” I said.

“I don’t want the town folk to think I’m a witch,” she said.

“You get that a lot?”

“I used to. And it wasn’t much fun.”

I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone about her doctorin’, so I left that saw bones in the water trough and headed to the bar to test my hand at holdin’ a shot glass.

Before you know it, Rose had me drinkin’ a cup of that brown water potion every time we took a trip. She said it would prevent my next infection before I get shot.

“How do you know I’m gonna get shot?” I say.

She doesn’t answer, just kisses my cheek and gives me a sad smile.

I don’t like the taste of that birch water, but it don’t give me the shits anymore, so that’s a plus.

So Rose is a great nurse. And, like I said before, she’s mighty good to look at. But good as she is at everythin’ else, the best thing about travelin’ with Rose is her cookin’.

An hour into sundown that night, she’d made molasses corn bread and chuck wagon stew, and biscuits with scrapple gravy. She pan fried thin slices of pig fat in the gravy drippin’s, and it tasted good enough to make a jack rabbit slap a hound dog!

That night, we had two fires goin’, about twenty feet apart. Phoebe, Rose and me were at one, and the rest of ’em were gathered around the other. We removed most of our valuables from the wagons, and placed them among us in piles.

We made a box camp, meanin’ the two wagons were opposite each other, with our livestock on either side, formin’ a border for us and our fires. This type of setup helps to keep stray animals from wanderin’ into camp. The downside is, Indians have an easy time stealin’ from the wagons, which is why we unloaded our valuables in the first place.

For awhile, Phoebe, Rose, and me didn’t talk much, content to listen to pieces of conversation passin’ between the whores and Hannah. Hannah still wasn’t smilin’, but we were pleased to see she’d begun talkin’ some, even though her comments weren’t optimistic yet. She never asked what happened to Joe and Clara, and best I could tell, seemed not to care.

Every now and then Gentry looked over at me and we’d share a smile. After one such smile Rose said, “She makes you happy.”

“She does.”

“Just then when you smiled at her, you looked like you were thinking of something funny, but sad. Is it her poultice?

“In a way,” I said.

“Well, don’t worry about that, because her face is going to be stunning by Monday morning. You believe me, don’t you, Emmett?”

“I do.”

“Making Gentry beautiful is a gift I’m giving you.”

“I’ve never had a problem with her complexion,” I said.

“I know you haven’t.”

“Then how is it a gift?”

“You’ll see.”

“When?”

“When she’s beautiful, and still wants you.”

Phoebe said, “Would you like me to leave so you two can talk?”

“’Course not,” I said.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your private thoughts,” she said.

“They’re not partic’larly meant to be private.”

Rose said, “What made you sad a moment ago, Emmett?”

“This time next week we’ll be in Dodge City,” I said, “and I’ll have to leave her there to face a hard life.