Cowboys & Ghosts

8. Be Careful

The townsfolk remained motionless, as the Native Americans halted their horses at the edge of town. Daisy relaxed her grip on her gun. One of the Indians, around a few years older than her, had the lead of his men. He had long black hair, which was held in a low ponytail. He was shirtless, wearing brown fur pants and plain shoes. He had tattoos marked all over his right arm, all the way to his palm. His own gray horse had a tattoo circling its left eye. "My name is Shaban," said the Indian. "I am no need for war; but refuge."
"Don't try any of your tricks, mate," retorted a nearby outlaw. "We've heard of how Indians are need of slaughter; not refuge."
"It is not possible," Shaban replied. "Our village has been destroyed by lightning in the eye of the storm." Daisy ducked away, startled at the sound of a bullet coming for the Indians. One of them fell from their horse in cold blood. Shaban had his weapon out, with his horse rearing up high. Daisy looked over her shoulder, having seen who shot that bullet. Cody. "If you want war," Shaban declared, before letting out a war cry. Bows and arrows were raised; followed by guns and rifles. Before anyone knew what was to come, arrows and bullets screamed through the air. Daisy took cover behind a wood panel, with her revolver in hand. From this Indian's eyes, there was nothing to hide, which meant he wasn't lying. That was when Daisy saw it. Shaban had fallen from his horse, with an outlaw holding him at rifle point ten feet away. "You make an invasion against us!" The outlaw said, appalled. "Try to take what you want, but we won't let you!" Daisy dropped her late father's revolver, running forward. At that moment, the outlaw pulled the trigger. Shaban had his eyes unopen, preparing to let death take him away. Then, he looked over when it hit. Daisy was in front of him, when she arched in pain and collapsed on her side. The teenager lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness, a hand to her side, that soaked her shirt with blood. "Oh, my God!" Someone yelled. "You animal! You shot a child!" Everything around Daisy came to a screeching halt, and the last thing she remembered was looking into the eyes of God.

Daisy came to in surprising agony. She had been shot in the stomach, and she could've died. But there she was; the pain was built upon and it was worth it, as of saving lives. Groaning, she tried to sit up, but a hand firmly pushed her back. "It'll cause more pain than it already has," came Slim's grandfatherly voice. Daisy laid back down, removing the blanket of her bed. Her shirt had been removed, replaced by bandage. She saw the spot where she had been shot, and it was red. "The doctor will be here in just a moment," Slim mused. "You took a bullet for the Indian; Shaban. It stopped a war between cowboys and Native Americans."
"I stopped a war?" Daisy asked, wincing. She was about to put a hand on her wound, but Slim reacted quickly. "No matter rather or not it was a child like you, yes," he said. "You impress me, Daisy. I've never seen anything like this before." Daisy looked around, finding herself in her own bedroom in the old man's house. She thought that she should've been elsewhere; if not a hospital. The door opened, and Shaban along with who seemed to be a medical assistant walked in. Shaban handed over what seemed like an Indian feather. "Here, Daisy," he said. "As a token of my gratitude." The girl took the feather, placing it on her nightstand. "By the way," the Indian went on. "You're not the only outlaw who's believed in the source of income."
"I..." Daisy winced. "I'm no outlaw." She felt in so much agony, that she didn't even realize that the doctor was examining her wound. "You're a lucky young gal," the doctor said. "We will have to remove the bullet, which could have went straight through your heart." He lifted up Daisy's bandage halfway, dabbing at the wound with a cold wet napkin. Daisy bit back a scream. "The outlaw who shot you has been arrested," the doctor said. "Perhaps it's my fault," Daisy replied. "I'm the one who ran straight into a bullet." Indeed, rather or not it was worth saving lives, she was blaming herself. "Which is sometimes the right thing to do," Shaban replied. "Because of that, I want to invite you to become part Indian." That was when Cody barged through the door. "Oh, hell no!" He slightly shoved Shaban, surprising him. "If you dare try anything, I'll break your goddamn skull!" He paused, having sensed being threatened by the presence of a weapon. Slim had two revolvers in hand, pointed at both Cody and Shaban. The old man had those pieces all the way back and cocked, until they were locked. The two younger men raised their hands, surrendering desperately. "Get your sorry asses out of this room," growled Slim. Cody and Shaban obeyed at once. Daisy only hoped that the conflict between the two was just an instant reflex rather than the beginning, which meant they'd at least get along, despite their own culture. She gasped, at the feeling of whiskey being poured down her wound. "Is this not the only medicine you got?" She asked. "There's more than one, Mrs. Martinsen," said the doctor. "Now here come the stiches. Keep still." Daisy bit back an agonizing cry, as she felt what seemed like needles digging deep into her flesh. "You won't be going after your reward anytime soon," Slim said. "I strongly suggest you rest until you're completely healed."
"Uncle Slim," Daisy replied. "I know I can..."
"Not yet." Slim firmly grasped the teenager's left wrist, assisting her through the pain. "You are still worthy of bringing us both together."
"You are still capable of joining the outside world," the doctor said. "He just wants you to be careful." Daisy put her finger to where the doctor asked her to put on her wound, and before she knew it, the pain was drifted from her body. "Shall I pay you?" She asked. The doctor shrugged. "Do what you think is best, Mrs. Martinsen. I'm sure..."
"There's $50 downstairs," Slim interrupted. "Take it. And don't let the door bust your ass on the way out." Relieved, Daisy watched the doctor make his leave. She later sat up, throwing her blue buttoned shirt about herself. "Someone wouldn't dare steal our chance for the reward," she said. "But that doesn't explain the rest."
"The boy still lives up to his name," Slim replied. "Which means he attends to return to the sky, which is his..." Then, a gunshot rang outside the house.