Something Borrowed

Chapter 43

***Happy Mother's Day if you're in America, the land of Hallmark holidays, and also a mother! Otherwise, happy Sunday I guess... 

Thank you all for all your kind words and compliments and the time you take to read and just generally for being cool people. In spite of your generosity, I will continue to disparage my writing ability forever and ever. It is my secret superpower and grants me immunity from critique. Nobody can ever say something meaner than the things I say to myself. There is strength in this, I'm sure. 

 My apartment isn't so cold today. For those (one) of you who were wondering why it was so cold, I LOVE the cold and live in generally HOT climes. So when it is chilly at night I sleep with all my windows open in order to bask in the chill, and Friday night was much frigider than I anticipated and the temp in my apartment dropped below 50. So I suffered a bit, but my Siberian was very happy and full of frolic all day which is all that matters to me. 

Here's another chapter. As usual, it is rubbish and not worth reading, but I appreciate you reading it anyway. Cheers!***

Melissa

Raised voices drew her from her bedroom down the stairs. The sound of her father yelling never caused her much alarm. He was a loud man and always had been, even before her mother died and he developed his poisonous edge. He was always hollering about something. It was the second voice that gave her pause.

"Just tell me where Melissa is, pa! We don't have time for this right now."

"Don't have time for what, Joshua? The truth? You brought this on my family and I won't have you in my home. Get out before I have you thrown out!"

"Oh, for the love of God. Just get out of my way... Melissa!"

"Here!" she yelled back, lifting the frayed edge of her skirt and grasping the rail as she hurried down the stairs. As she broke onto the first floor and rounded the corner, she saw her father standing in the parlor, hands on his hips. And in front of him... "Oh lord," she gasped, elbowing past her father, her hands flying as she tugged at her brother's blood-soaked jacket, searching for wounds. "Come sit down. What happened? How bad is it? How are you still--"

"I'm okay, Lis," he said firmly, taking hold of her wrists and holding her away. "I'm okay. But you need to run upstairs and get your kit. Brent is hurt."

She felt faint for a moment, as blood drained from her head. Josh's hands on her shoulders steadied her, and she met his eye. He gave her a reassuring smile. "He's going to be alright, but he needs your help. Go get your kit and get dressed to ride. He's at my place. I'll get your horse ready to go and I'll meet you in the barn."

"Okay," she nodded, backing away. "What... what happened? What tools will I need?"

"Bear," Josh said through his teeth, his eyes flicking to their father. "Slashes on his side and leg. No bites."

"Okay," she nodded harder, already running through a mental tally of the tools and medicines she might need. Sutures to sew the wounds. Carbolic acid to disinfect. Sterile bandages. Something to dull the pain and help him rest. She had a small bottle of laudanum left. That would do.

Leaving Josh to their father's mercies, she dashed upstairs and hurriedly through items into the worn doctors' bag Amelia had gotten her for Christmas two years ago. All the basics were already tucked away, but she added her little walnut box of medicines and the sewing kit she'd special ordered from out east with the curved needles. Once packed, she shrugged into her thick wool coat and tossed an extra dress and some underthings into a bag. If Brent was really hurt she'd probably have to stay by his side for a few days and she'd need clean clothes. It wasn't good to be filthy when tending to the sick.