Dry Weather ~Doc Holliday FanFiction~

Chapter 5

It was during the following week or two that I discovered what was expected of me, specifically during working hours. The labor was labor, but it was the people that I was interested in. I observed and kept to myself in this time, learning how things functioned in this town. It didn't take long before I began to notice things. People here had cliques and groups that they kept to and each individual was a part of one. Being the busy body behind the bar counter was useful in these situations; a method of being impartial to all parties. It gave me freedom to speak or be silent. After all, when anyone saw me they mostly thought, "a nice girl, that bartender, she won't bother us".

There were three kinds of people who frequented Tombstone, or at least that's what I had gathered. The first was the kind that lived there: relaxed, familiar, and protective. The second were generally tourists: quiet, excited, and interested. Finally came the third group, which seemed to be the people who didn't really live anywhere. Perhaps they had a camp set up further from town or perhaps they slept in the hotel or maybe they didn't sleep at all, but they roamed and caused trouble. My eavesdropping had proved useful when I discovered that there was a name for these men: "Cowboys", was what they called them. I couldn't tell you if it was a fitting name. I didn't know them well enough. All that I understood was that anyone who wore a red sash could fit into this category.

Here I was, a lonely lady, scrubbing the dirt off of a glass cup, watching pedestrians go about their day in the most normal manner possible. Even after my previous encounter with the gun fight, I had begun to wonder if there wasn't much to do in this town. It was nice, but simple. I caught myself. I shouldn't have assumed.

I decided to let time take its course. There's always something interesting to do.

°°°°°

It was a scorching summer’s day when I had had my weekly day off of work. Everyone was pardoned from their job on Sunday, or at least most people were. I would have read a book in my hotel room or maybe even patterned a new skirt, but it was blazing hot outside.. Mid-August in Tombstone was all hell. That, I discovered quickly.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an abundance of things that you could do in this town to cool off. There wasn’t a lake nearby as far as I knew and a handheld fan could only offer so much comfort. I sat there on the balcony, trying to catch the breeze in the meantime.

Soon, an idea came to me. I could rent a horse and search for a creek. If I did not find one, it wouldn’t matter. The cool-ish wind from riding would be much appreciated compared to the semi-stagnant blow I felt on the bright balcony.  I needed to get away from the bustling streets anyway.

On my way to the stables, I quickly peered into some of the storefront windows. There were advertisements and fashion plates from Paris attached to the glass. Some of them were promoting different kinds of medicines and some were aggressively stating why you should buy, “DOCTOR THOMAS OSMUND’S LAVENDER SOAP: The Finest Choice For A Ladies Sanitary Needs.”

Soon I would be able to afford such things. Not that I particularly wanted them, but I would be able to buy them if I wanted. Soap, however, might be needed.

°°°°°

At last, I reached the stables. I had a chat with one of the stable boys and managed to rent a horse for the day for a slightly cheaper price than usual. I paid him and mounted the horse. It was a pretty horse, gray coat and light on its feet. The stable boy told me that her name was Lady Mary.

I took off on Lady Mary’s strong back, racing out into the desert.

Across the cracked ground and towards the horizon, I galloped.  Faster and faster until I could no longer feel the harsh wind hitting my face. I became numb to the elements. I didn’t have a clue where I was going. Maybe north, south, east, or west. I didn’t care. The feeling of riding a horse was so freeing, something that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I kept an eye out for unusually green places. Something that would hint to water.

In front of me, a little ways further, were a few tall trees. Usually, in the desert, the saguaro cacti act as a surrogate to trees. They tower above the desert floor, providing shelter for some animals. The birds would peck their way through its rough, green, skin and burrow a hole in its slim figure. If you were lucky, you might see a wren poke its head out in greeting. Depending on how old the cactus was, there might be more than one bird. Each arm finishes growing after one hundred years, giving more area for homes. It is very easy to know how old a saguaro is. Some of them even had up to six or seven green limbs. The oldest and wisest of all. Sometimes, I wondered what they had seen, or heard.

I followed the rare sight of trees and prayed for a cool stream. As I got closer to the banks I could see even more thick foliage than before. I followed a small trail path that led straight to the shore of a small brook. There was much to admire when I saw the sparkling waters. Half of it was shaded by the tall trees’ leaves with small tadpoles playing games in the shallower bits. I dismounted Lady Mary and hitched her to a tree that was close to the water. She drank it eagerly. It must have felt good.

I wanted to enjoy the coolness myself, so I took off my clothes, but left on my chemise and drawers just in case someone came prying. I stepped into the creek. It was pure delight. The rest of my body seemed to forget the heat even if just my feet were in the water. I moved further into the oasis and layed there, forgetting all else. It wasn’t deep. The water level only covered me to just below hips, so when I rested my back upon the sandy bottom, I didn’t stray from my position. Instead, the wet ground caught me and held me there, the water just above my ears.

I stayed there in thought for seconds, or minutes, or hours. I didn’t know. It was just the break I needed. I thought of my family at home, in Colorado. I thought about the chaos that ensued the first day I arrived in Tombstone. I also thought about the man from the bar, still wondering how he was faring.

I secretly hoped to see him again.