Healing Woman of the Red Rocks Read online

  Amy ran down the porch steps waving a paper, but before she reached Thomas, her legs buckled and she fell onto the flagstone walkway. Thomas and Polly both yelled, "Amy!" and rushed toward her.

  Amy started to rise, but Thomas said, "Honey, stay still until I can check you for injury."

  "I will, papa," she said with a little sob.

  Polly knelt beside Amy and smoothed her pale blond hair tied back with a pink bow while Thomas checked her limbs. Nothing seemed to be broken. Helping his daughter to stand, he said, "Amy, did you stub your toe on the flagstone?"

  "I don't think so. I just felt a little dizzy and then my legs got weak."

  An arrow of foreboding lanced Thomas' heart. He lifted Amy into his arms and said, "I'll just carry you to the couch and you can show me your picture while Polly washes your scrape."

  While Polly cleaned the abrasion, Thomas praised the pastoral scene his daughter had drawn at school. The ploy to keep her attention away from the antiseptic swiped on her leg mostly worked. She only scrunched her face and said, "Ouch," once.

  Thomas said, "Amy, do you feel dizzy now?"

  "No, sir."

  "Then why don't you take your picture to your room and decide which wall you want to hang it on. I'll get a hammer and nail and meet you there in a few minutes."

  His promise made her smile and she said, "I know just where I want to hang it."

  After she ascended the stairs, he turned to Polly and asked a question he dreaded. "Polly, has Amy been stumbling frequently?"

  Polly blinked rapidly. "Yes, sir. It started a couple of days ago, but I thought it was just childhood clumsiness. I didn't think much about it until now when she said she was dizzy."

  Fear clutched Thomas' heart. Amy's mother's illness had begun in the same manner—dizziness and frequent falling.

  3: Strange Conversation

  The whiskey burned a path to Thomas' stomach and did little to erase his living nightmare. The past two months had been hell as he watched his daughter display the same symptoms that had eventually extinguished her mother's life. Today had been the worst yet when Amy complained of blurred vision, but an examination had revealed nothing other than the strange illness manifesting yet another symptom. His worry was compounded by the fact that she was so small for her age. Not being a robust child, would that hasten the illness?

  Thomas pushed his shot glass across the scarred surface of the bar and said, "Another one."

  The bartender who occasionally came to Thomas because of headaches asked, "Doc, you sure about that? If you need to air your head out, I'm a good listener. I guarantee I'm better than a hangover."

  "Thanks, Slim, but there are some things only whiskey helps with for awhile. Pour another shot."

  Slim shrugged and poured as requested.

  Rather than toss the whiskey down, Thomas wrapped his hand around the glass and closed his eyes, wondering what he'd done in life to deserve the loss of his wife and now possibly his daughter. Although his early twenties before entering medical school had been somewhat on the wild side, he'd never cheated at cards, slept with another man's wife, killed anyone, or lied or cussed overmuch as far as he could remember. His father and brothers had been appalled by his behavior, but his uncle on his father's side had quipped, "He's only sowing his wild oats, Henry. It'll pass, just like it did with you."

  His uncle had been right. At the age of twenty-three Thomas had lost interest in cards and fancy women when he'd entered the medical academy.

  He squeezed his eyes tighter and was about to swig the rotgut, when the cowboy beside him said to his companion, "Marv, it was the damndest thing I ever seen. No wonder the Indians call her Healing Woman of the Red Rocks."

  His drinking companion asked, "Did she ever tell you her name?"

  "No. And I never asked. She wasn't much for talk. By the time I got Billy there, he was as white as a ghost and I figured he was dead. Hell, maybe he was. Maybe she brought the young fella back from the pits o' hell—that place we'll all end up after the life we've lived. 'Course the kid died last year so I reckon he's in that place now."

  Thomas relaxed his grip on his whiskey glass and continued listening to the men, both of whom appeared to be about Thomas' age, late thirties.

  Marv said, "Curly, tell me again how she saved him."

  Curly belched and replied, "When we finally got there Billy was laying face forward over his horse's mane 'cause ten miles back he said he couldn't sit up no more. Hell, blood was drippin' down his arm and pooling on the ground, and it was a lot of blood." Curly snorted and continued, "I told him afore he started toward that stagecoach that I'd heard tell them drivers got new rifles that was deadly accurate. But he was determined and I was foolish enough to follow him. Well, we stopped the stagecoach all right and delivered the drivers of the strongbox and the passengers of their valuables, but when we shot the box open, there weren't much in it. Anyway, after we hightailed it outta' there, I figured we was lucky sons-o-bitches, but I was wrong—almost dead wrong. Either we didn't get all the drivers' rifles or one o' them men in the coach had hidden one. We was a good distance away when I heard the first shot and Billy fell off his horse. I figured I'd be next if I didn't get low, so I dove for the ground just as a bullet buzzed past my head. I'd say it was God's grace, but sure as hell that would be stretching it. Anyway, we was close to some rocks and I pulled Billy behind 'em. Another shot landed in the dirt in front of the rocks and I fired my Colt cause the horses done run off with our rifles and the ones we stole. Everything went silent and I figured they was discussin' whether to come after us so I fired again just to let 'em know I meant business, and to my surprise, they left."

  Thomas heard one of the men spit tobacco in the spittoon and waited for the conclusion to the story. He wasn't disappointed.

  Curly swore some foul language and continued, "I figured they left 'cause the loot we'd taken was a piddle in a bucket and there was a woman and child on the coach. If not, they woulda' unhitched a couple of horses and been on us like flies on dung." Curly called, "Hey Bartender, another round."

  Thomas opened his eyes and stared at the amber liquid in his glass. There was a jangle of change as the men paid for their drinks.

  Curly said, "I managed to round up our horses and get Billy on his. It was then I remembered hearing an old trapper spoutin' a tale 'bout this woman who lived in the red rocks below Flagstaff. He said she could heal anyone, even animals. When he started tellin' 'bout some o' the ailments she'd healed, I thought he was talkin' out his arse, but I never forgot it. One look at Billy with a bullet in the vicinity of his heart and I knew he was a walkin' dead man. 'Course he wasn't walkin', not by a long shot. We was over in the Verde Valley which wasn't far from the red rocks as the crow flies, and I just grabbed the reins o' Billy's horse and told the kid, 'We sure as hell can't go to Fort Verde to see the doc. They'd recognize us in a heartbeat and hang us afore the sun set, so we're gonna go find that healing woman.'"

  "What did Billy say?" asked Marv.

  "He didn't say nothin', just nodded, 'cause he knew what I said was true. It took us all day and part of the night to get there. And again, I'd say providence was guiding us if it weren't such a ridiculous notion 'cause we happened onto the path of an old trapper who pointed us in the right direction. He said he'd been to see her a few times in the past five years, and she'd even healed him of gangrene."

  "So, what'd she do to heal Billy?"

  "Hell, I don't rightly know. It was night when we got there and the healing woman come outta' her cabin like she had no fear. She walked right up to us, shined her lantern on Billy layin' on his horse, and motioned for me to bring him into the barn. Frankly, she scared the sheeit outta me with them weird colored eyes. They was kinda blue, kinda purple."

  There was silence and then Thomas jumped when a whisky glass hit the table. Curly made an "Ahhh" sound and said, "Marv, I swear on my mother's grave that this is the honest truth. When we walked into the barn I almost peed my pants.
There was stall after stall of animals. Some was obviously injured, and others, I don't know if they was pets or what. She made me take Billy to a room at the back o' the barn and inside was an old Indian. Somethin' was wrong with his stomach 'cause it was wrapped up. She pointed to an empty cot and I put Billy on it. Then she started grabbin' bottles and boxes of stuff off shelves. Now mind you, she hadn't said a word."

  "So what'd she do with the stuff she grabbed?"

  "Hell if I know. She motioned for me to leave and, believe me, that little mite of a woman scared me more'n a posse of lawmen. I just did what she said and went to take care of the horses. After that, I laid my bedroll out in a corner of the barn and fell asleep."

  Thomas swirled the whiskey in his glass. His heart had started pounding. He had to know the ending to the story. The cowboy was quiet for so long that he was just about to turn and ask him to continue, when Curly said, "When I woke at dawn, I was afraid of what I'd see if I walked back into that room, but Billy was my friend and if he needed to be buried, I was gonna give him a good Christian one to help him when he reached the pearly gates. But when I opened the door, I was shocked to see him sleepin' like a baby. I think he even had a smile on his face. His chest was bandaged and there was some kind of brown goo oozing out the sides, but he weren't in no pain. And the damndest thing, there was two crystals 'bout the size o' a big man's fist. One was on a table at the head of his bed and the other on a table at the foot. The old Indian was still asleep so I just slipped from the room not wantin' to disturb him or Billy. When I got back to my bedroll there was a tray o' food waitin' for me. After I ate, I went into the woods to take care o' nature's call and when I come back, the old Indian was sittin' on the porch with the healing woman. Neither of them spoke to me, but to be polite, I called out a thank you for the food. She just nodded and went back to talkin' with the Indian. The Indian musta' left that day 'cause I never seen him again.

  "A week later Billy was well enough to travel. Some o' them concoctions the woman rubbed on his wound was nasty lookin' stuff, and she made him drink some kind o' potion every day, but the treatments worked. I seen men shot afore and sometimes it takes weeks, if not months, to recover. I ain't never seen the likes o' this though."

  Curly ordered and slammed another whiskey while Thomas gathered his thoughts. Coming to a decision, he turned to Curly and said, "Sir, I couldn't help overhearing your conversation, and since I'm a doctor, I find your story fascinating. Can you tell me more about this woman?"

  The cowboy, covered in desert dust, eyed him suspiciously and narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you're a lawman just sayin' you're a doctor."

  Thomas lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I assure you, I am who I say I am, and I have no interest in your…er…colorful history. In fact, the bartender can vouch for me." He called to Slim at the end of the bar, "Hey, Slim, am I the local doctor?"

  "Damn straights, and a fine one at that."

  "Thanks." Thomas returned his attention to Curly. "The reason I'm asking about the healing woman is because I have a patient with a mysterious illness and nothing I do seems to help. The healing woman may be my patient's last resort."

  Curly's harsh features softened a little and he scratched the salt-and-pepper bristle on his chin. "Well, like you heard, I don't know nothin' 'bout her. She never talked to me; just give me food every day. The one time I tried to make conversation she looked at me with them strange eyes and then turned and walked away."

  "Was she Indian, Asian, White?"

  "Well, her features was kinda Indian but her skin was as white as milk and she had hair black as midnight. It was long and pulled back in a braid that reached her arse. She was tiny, too. Prob'ly not much over five feet or a hundred pounds." He shook his head and mumbled, "I'll never forget them eyes."

  Thomas puffed a breath. "Can you tell me how to find her?"

  When Curly hesitated, Marv said, "Hell, Curly, tell the man so's he can maybe save his patient."

  Curly nodded and said, "You know Fort Verde, where the military's set up to fight all them skirmishes?"

  "Yes, I've seen it on a map."

  "Well, the red rocks is northwest of there, maybe twenty, twenty-five miles as the crow flies. The healing woman lives at the southern end of the rocks in a little valley. Her house is about a hundred yards from a creek. But to get to Fort Verde from here, you gotta take the Yavapai Trail up into the Superstition Mountains and then follow the Salt River to the Verde River that branches off of it. But to save time, there's a trail that cuts northwest afore you get to the Verde. You follow it and eventually meet up with the river. The trail mostly goes alongside the riverbank and will take you to a cutoff to Fort Verde. Then there's a trail from Fort Verde headed toward the red rocks."

  Thomas nodded. "Are there any markers I should look for once I get close to the rocks?"

  "Well, you'll know you're headed in the right direction if you stay your course toward the gigantic rock shaped like a bell. There's a creek you'll follow part of the way and about a mile or two afore you reach the bell the trail veers northwest behind an outcropping of cliffs and boulders. You gotta get behind them cliffs. Eventually you'll come to another creek. Follow that creek northeast and you'll enter a valley and not long after, her cabin. That's how the trapper explained it to me and I found her easy enough."

  Thomas motioned toward Slim. "Pour my friends another round, sir." He stretched his arm out to shake hands with Curly and then Marv.

  Curly said, "I wish the best for your patient, sir."

  Marv jerked his head toward a card table. "Would you care to join me and Curly Bill in a game of poker?"

  Thomas declined but thanked the men for their help. Time was of the essence. He had to prepare for departure to the red rocks.

  4: Disclosure

  During the two days needed to prepare for a journey that, for all accounts could be madness, Thomas often found himself second guessing his decision. Would the long excursion weaken his daughter's constitution and hasten her illness? Would they encounter adversity in locales known for Indian uprisings? Was he crazy for hoping someone with probably no medical training could help his daughter?

  His resolve strengthened when Amy again complained of blurred vision that remained for over an hour. He checked her eyes, placed a cool cloth over them, and then swallowed against the lump in his throat.

  With her eyes covered, Amy said, "Papa, am I going to die and go to heaven like Mama?"

  "No, baby, you're going to grow up and have a family of your own and live a long, beautiful life."

  "Papa, it's all right if I go to be with Mama. I know you're doing all your doctor stuff to help me, just like for Mama, but if I die, it's not your fault."

  Thomas decided that now was a good time to tell Amy about his decision to seek help. "Amy, I heard about a woman with a gift for doctoring and I want to take you to her, but we'll have to travel a long way. I want to leave tomorrow. Do you think you're up to it?"

  "Yes, Papa," Amy trustingly replied.

  Thomas lifted his beautiful daughter's hand and kissed it. "I love you, Amy."

  "I love you, too, Papa."

  5: He's Coming

  Tana awakened still hearing the echo of her grandmother's words from the realm of dreams. He's coming, dearest Tana. He's the one who will make you cry.

  Sighing, she turned onto her side and yawned. Her grandmother Frannie had died when Tana was sixteen and she often visited her granddaughter in dreams, always with the same message about someone coming. Years ago, Tana had eagerly awaited his arrival, but when it never happened, she'd decided her grandmother was confused in her heavenly home. Of course, how that could be so, she'd never found a satisfactory answer.

  Tana stretched and watched dawn lighten her window. She loved the golden rays that reached like loving fingers through the precious glass. It was the only window in her cabin with glass and so it remained permanently unshuttered, except in inclement weather. The other windows were shuttered e
ach night, not because she was fearful, but because of all the forest creatures drawn to her cabin. If the windows were left open, she could awaken to any number of guests—birds, squirrels, chipmunks, skunks, even an occasional snake.

  The sun continued its ascent and Tana scooted to the edge of the bed until the light hit her squarely in the face. Drinking in the warmth of an early spring, she pondered Frannie's words, He's coming, dearest Tana. He's the one who will make you cry.

  Speaking aloud, she said, "Frannie, you've been teasing me with those words for years. I'm thirty now and still no one has come. And you know I don't cry. I didn't even cry when you were buried, or Grandpa or Papa or Mama, because I know you're always with me." She chuckled. "I sometimes see you all out of the corner of my eye. And I always feel your presence. So, if I don't cry for the departed, why would I cry for a living person?"

  The sun was now shining brightly so Tana swung her legs over the side of the bed, reached for her shawl, and mentally prepared for her day. At present, she had no humans to care for, only animals. Just the day before an injured wolf had dragged himself to her porch, making his presence known with a pathetic yowl. Tana had been at the sink preparing an herbal solution for a rabbit with a nasty gash on his left forepaw when she heard the wolf. Rushing onto her porch she'd momentarily felt the animal's pain, something that occasionally happened, and closed her eyes waiting for it to subside. Then she'd rushed to the poor creature speaking soothing words as she circled him. When she knew it was safe to approach, she'd knelt and gently rubbed his head. "You poor dear. What's happened? It's your back leg, isn't it? I felt your pain."

  The wolf, lying on his side, made a pitiful sound as Tana continued, "Well, I've got something that will help immediately. I'll be right back." She rushed into the house and pulled the stopper from a jug containing a liquid of soaked herbs for the relief of pain. The potent recipe had been passed down through many generations in her family and perfected by her grandfather's knowledge of local herbs. Now she poured it into a clay dish for the wolf to drink. Placing it on the ground in front of him, she encouraged him to lap it up. While he did so, she said, "You're Warrior. I named you long ago when I saw how bravely you led and protected your pack. I thank you and the others for watching over me all these years."