Juliet remained, mesmerized, fascinated, and drawn into those blue orbs.
Beneath the filth and dark beard, a rugged flesh and blood man radiated strength, masculinity and power. Even with his leanness, he dwarfed her.
He raised his hand to touch her and she held his palm against her cheek, felt tears prick her eyes at seeing him like this. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”
He swallowed hard, searching to form words, and rasped out, “There is still an ordeal ahead, if you accept—”
“Accept?”
His hand went limp in hers and his head rolled to the side. No answer there.
Suspended from the rafters were lengths of corn braids. Strange face masks adorned the walls, looking inward. Shelves were filled with earthen pots, woven baskets, wooden implements and furs. To have her own lodge spelled Ojistah’s importance.
The medicine woman, heedless of Juliet’s inquiry, sprinkled herbs in two earthen pots, set them on the fire, and then removed a kettle to cool. Rising, Ojistah snatched more herbs from the rafters and added them to the pots.
Joshua’s mud-caked clothing was sopped with black-crusted and fresh red blood. She reached out, then drew her hand away. In her entire existence, nothing had prepared her for this and she cursed Onontio, his warriors and their horrid practices.
To survive, Joshua needed a miracle.
His blue eyes flashed in her mind, wounded eyes, like those of a child stretching out to her for comfort, shadowed with sincerity. Her heart lurched.
“His wounds are many but not dangerous. He is a strong man,” said Ojistah.
Juliet rubbed her eyes from the stinging smoke swirling up to a hole in the roof. “You speak English?”
“The black robe has taught me.” Ojistah stirred her pungent concoction using a wooden spoon with a wolf’s head carving. “I have given Joshua herbs in a sleeping draught which takes a long time to set in and explains his lack of responsiveness. I have also brewed restorative teas of sassafras and witch hazel to heal and give him strength. He will be affected by a deep nourishing sleep and be awake by the evening’s events.”
With a knife, Ojistah cut off his buckskins, revealing an angry gash across his thigh. Ojistah handed her a cloth. Juliet’s blanket dropped. Her face flaming, she pushed aside her modesty and washed away the clotted blood; the coppery smell of fresh blood wafted. Her stomach roiled and whirled. She swallowed down the oncoming waves.
“Is there any other way I can help?”
“Hand me the basket in the corner.” Ojistah boiled balsam and juniper bark, taking out smooth pieces and allowing them to cool.
She filled the gash along Joshua’s thigh with powdered red punk wood. “Hold his shoulders down,” Ojistah commanded.
Juliet pressed her knees into his shoulders, anchoring him with her weight. She tried not to wince as a fiery ember was touched to the punk wood. Light flashed across the angry laceration. Joshua soared off the furs, knocking the two women aside. Ojistah and Juliet pushed him back on the furs where he fell to sleep again.
“The burning stops any bleeding. Now help me bind the wounds. The bark has healing properties and soothes bruises and burns.”
There were no bandages, but the balsam and juniper bark served as a substitute. Ojistah demonstrated and Juliet followed.
Why did she feel a connection with the woman?
“We are both medicine women,” said Ojistah without looking up.
Juliet jerked her head and stared. There it was again, an incomprehensible force Ojistah aroused, a strangeknowingthatrattled her like it had when Ojistah had clasped her ancient hand beneath Juliet’s chin.
Ojistah raised an eyebrow, the action furrowing wrinkles in her forehead. “Are you not a healer?”
“I am a midwife. How do you know?”
Ojistah smiled. “I know many things. You have great powers breathed by the Great Fire Dragon. Your appearance in this land is nearly as sacred as Sky Woman who fell upon the Great Turtle’s back. Be not afraid, push aside your confusion and accept what gifts come to you with humility and hone them to your best ability.”
Juliet attempted to grasp Ojistah’s obscure message and fumbled with the smooth balsam and juniper bark.
Warm hands were placed upon hers, patiently instructing as they applied the bandages to Joshua until Juliet understood what to do. Ojistah’s touch instilled a baffling, burning light of confidence.
“He will sleep for now. Tonight, he will be strong as an ox.” Ojistah’s voice ministrations mirrored those of a mother for her child, her reassurance, soothing.
