“I take it you’re responsible,” Dr. Masterson stated. There was no judgment in his voice.
“Sure am,” Blade confirmed. “They robbed the general store and tried to get away. Couldn’t allow that.”
“No, we couldn’t,” Dr. Masterson agreed as he turned to Jace. “Let’s go get them fixed up.”
For the next hour, Jace and Dr. Masterson treated the bandits. They removed slugs, stitched and bandaged wounds, and administered pain medication. Jace had been worried that treating the bandits would be a problem, but since the men were already locked up and in pain, they behaved better than he had expected. Everything went surprisingly smoothly, and by the time they were done, Jace felt much more at ease.
***
Millie looked at the contents of her basket. She wanted to make vegetable stew for dinner and had to make sure she had all the ingredients before she returned home. She had brought two big baskets with her to the garden, and they were both almost full. Tending to the vegetable garden ensured that she had fresh vegetables all year round, and it kept Millie busy during the day.
She hated that she couldn’t contribute more, but Margaret always seemed to appreciate the vegetables. One basket contained potatoes, onions, turnips, and radishes, while the other held beans, pumpkin, and carrots. If she mixed all the ingredients and added some rice and meat to the pot, they would have a delicious meal.
Spinach and lettuce didn’t go well with stew, but she liked having some around to put on sandwiches. Slade, or as he liked to be called, Blade, was always hungry. Millie gathered some lettuce and spinach and added them to her basket. Satisfied that she had everything she needed, Millie sat down, took a deep breath, and surveyed her surroundings.
In the distance, she could see the house where she and Blade had grown up. She hadn’t set foot back inside it in years, and she had no intention of going anywhere near it. The white paint had started to crack and peel, the windows remained broken, and a large tree had fallen against one side.
Millie pulled her eyes away from the house and focused on the overgrown bushes, shrubs, and trees that surrounded her. She kept the vegetable garden neat but didn’t bother with the rest of the garden. It didn’t matter. Nobody except for Millie, Blade, and Dakota visited the ranch, and none of them cared about how the place looked. In fact, Millie preferred it this way. The fact that it was abandoned and falling apart kept any potential bandits away. There was no point in them attacking a ranch where there was nothing left to take.
One of the perks of the garden being overgrown was all the wildflowers, birds, and insects that she got to see. The colors were vibrant and made Millie feel like she was in her own little world. It reminded her of the stories her mother used to read to her as a little girl, and she found solace in it.
Millie just sat there, watching the world go by. Being in her vegetable garden was her favorite place, but soon enough, it was time to go home. Millie had to start dinner, or Margaret would do it, and she already did enough for them.
Considering the state of the ranch, Millie could have just left her gardening tools right there, but for some reason, she always put them away in a nearby shed before returning home. It wasn’t a long walk; she just had to cross the overgrown fields and then slip through an opening in the fence that separated Margaret’s house from the ranch.
Even after living there for the last seven years, it still didn’t feel like home. Margaret was amazing and had given Millie and Blade more than they could have ever asked for. Millie should have been comfortable living there; she should have been able to carry on with her life, but nothing had ever felt right since that horrible day.
Millie preferred not to think about the past or the future. Both carried too much weight. It was much easier and safer to remain in the present. She simply went from day to day, doing chores, tending to her vegetable garden, reading, and sleeping. Some might say that she was wasting her life, but it was the only way Millie knew to keep going.
The back door that led straight into the kitchen stood open, just like it always did. Something was different, though. There was a smell emanating from the house—food that had been left on the stove for too long and was burning. The baskets slipped from Millie’s hands as she rushed inside. Something was very wrong.
The first thing she saw was a pot on the stove with smoke coming out of it. The second thing she saw was Margaret lying on the kitchen floor. Millie froze as terror washed over her. Margaret wasn’t moving, and for a little while, Millie couldn’t do anything but stand there.
You have to do something. Just go to her, see if she is alive.Millie shook her head and forced her feet to move. It felt like everything was happening extremely slowly as she walked over to where Margaret lay. Her head was right next to the kitchen table, and Millie could see a small pool of blood on the wooden floor. She opened her mouth as if to gasp, but no sound came out.
Margaret . . .
Millie fell down next to the old woman who had taken care of her for the last seven years. She was the closest thing Millie had to a mother, and now she was gone. Millie reached out and pulled Margaret closer, cradling her blood-stained head in her lap. Tears welled up behind Millie’s eyes as her breath grew shallow.
Calm down. You knew this was going to happen at some point.
The tears overflowed and spilled down Millie’s cheeks as she clutched Margaret closer to her.
She had a bad heart;there was nothing the doctor could do for her.
Millie sucked in her breath, trying to get her emotions under control, but they just kept spiraling. Her breathing was too fast, and her head was spinning. Millie’s vision started getting blurry, and before she could stop it, her mind transported her back to that day. It had been months since her last episode, but there was nothing she could do to stop them when they happened.
***
The Cassidy Ranch, 1872
“Please don’t hurt her!” Millie’s mother cried as the bandits wrestled Millie from her grip.
Millie tried to hold on to her, but the man who had grabbed her was too strong. He was tall, had a dirty beard, and an overpowering smell of whiskey and smoke clung to him.
“Mamma!” Millie screamed, reaching out. “Mamma!”
“You can do anything you want to me, just don’t hurt her,” Millie’s mother pleaded.
