Little Sharpshooter Chap 3

Randy had to clean up before she went to see Miss Marla. She was in no mood for Miss Marla’s nitpicking. Randy made up a story while she braided her long brown hair to wind it into a bun at the back of her neck. She hated the bun and the little hairs were itchy but she couldn’t stand the scrutiny over her lack of femininity even more. Randy put on the skirt and shirt she wore for her lady lessons. But she was going to wear her boots and not the toe pinching binding lady boots. Besides, she kicked them off in the barn somewhere. They could stay there forever as far as she was concerned.

Randy had no intention of getting off Al at Miss Marla’s. She would say she was just passing through and was headed to town directly. Besides, her calf was killing her, and Cheveyo wanted her to see the physician in town. The last thing she wanted to do was make light to everyone that she was suddenly an orphan.

Randy froze where she stood on her way out to the barn. An orphan at sixteen. She had heard of orphan girls her age getting married young so they wouldn’t be sent to a home as hired help for other people’s children. She wasn’t going to rush out to find a husband just because she was parentless. Tears filled her eyes. But she had cried plenty and had things to do. She sucked in the sob that choked her and went to saddle up Al.

Al was always good at cheering her up. He nudged her with his muzzle when she hung her head. She hugged him around his neck and ran her fingers through the coarse hairs of his mane.

“Well, it’s just gonna be me and you here on out.” Her legs squeezed his sides to head down the road to Miss Marla’s farmhouse.

Fortunately for Randy, Miss Marla wasn’t around and she was able to talk her husband, Mr. Mason, into taking on the large animals and offered him the wagon.

Next she went to the bank and charmed Mr. Billings into letting her withdraw at least half of her Pa’s money telling him and Mr. Mason that she and her pa were going to California to see the ocean which wasn’t a complete lie. She left the bank with a bag full of notes on her hip.

After she struggled to hop onto Al’s back ungracefully, and grumbled about the skirt, Randy headed over to the physician’s office on the other side of town.

Randy waited in the front room while the physician finished with a patient.

“Can I help you?” the tall man in a white coat asked after elderly, bent-over Mrs. Granger left.

Randy tried to stand up but fell back into the chair.

“Let me have a look. I haven’t seen you in some time. I have forgotten your name.” Dr. Fairweather never looked her in the eye when he bent over to look at her leg.

“I’m Miranda, sir.” She gripped the seat of the chair. He unwound the bandage off her leg. Blood had seeped through the bandage all over again. “You saw me last week.”

“Miranda. That’s right. How did this happen?” He turned her leg to examine it closer. Randy whimpered.

“I … I … I fell on a stick when I fell off my horse.” She pulled his hand away.

He squinted at her to study her face. “I have already seen a couple of gunshot wounds yesterday. This looks like another one to me.”

“Nope. Not sure why you think that. It might have even been metal. I don’t know. It hurt like mad when Pa pulled it out.”

“When did this happen?” Dr. Fairweather turned her leg the other way.

“Earlier today, sir.” Randy’s face flushed. She pressed her cheek into her shoulder so she didn’t cry out when he squeezed her calf.

“Why are you here alone, without your pa?”

“He’s gettin’ ready to go on a trip. We’re gonna go to California.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you leave yet. If it was a metal stick that went through your leg then you are at a high risk for infection. Traveling is the worst thing you could do. I know your pa well enough that I have a hard time believing he would allow you to come here alone without him. This is a serious injury.”

“Look. I don’t wanna go into why this thing is here. It hurts. It wasn’t a stick or a metal rod. If you can help it get better, please help me or I’m goin’ home to let the Indian fix it.” Randy crossed her arms and glared at the doctor.

“It’s just starting to get infected already. That’s how I can tell it didn’t happen today and it looks like a gunshot wound. I’m wondering if the ones I saw yesterday are related.” His eyes met hers briefly before he went into the back room to look for something.

Randy wrapped her leg as fast as she could and hobbled out the door. There was no way she was going to be blamed for the outlaws’ injuries. Besides, they might still be in town. She hopped to Al, jumped on his back, and headed for home.

That night she soaked her leg for a long time trying her best to clean it. She cried every time she squeezed to press the infection out. She didn’t know what was infected and what wasn’t. It all looked the same to her. Slathering on the paste Cheveyo made, she debated whether to go to him for help. The pain in her leg subsided as she went through the money the banker gave her. She found places to hide it in all her gear. When Randy finished, she was all fired up to leave again. She was still scared the wounded men would come back.

Randy packed what she needed for a long journey. She left Mr. Mason more than enough money in the horses’ tack. Surely he would find it. In the barn she lingered a little longer to say goodbye to her pony. She only thought the power struggles with Little Bit were hard. Maybe he had been prepping her all along on how to deal with Al. She rubbed the noses of her pa’s horses. After she milked Senora, she gave the cow a farewell pat. Randy might as well let Mr. Mason have her milk in the morning. She would just have to dump it when she left at first light.