The Ranger

Chapter Eleven: Jesus?

Felix POV

Beth and I had spent a couple of hours getting Tug situated, unsaddled, and brushed with some small talk. We went back into the house, and I was told to sit on the bed while Beth checked the bandages just to be safe. I was silent while she worked, watching her as she methodically checked the sutures to make sure I hadn't popped any. After that, she moved behind me.

I wasn't quite sure what she was doing, and I flinched slightly as I felt her fingers lightly tracing the lash marks on my back, lightly applying ointment to the wounds.

"It'll take a week or two for the cuts to heal fully, significantly longer for the cracked ribs," she told me as she finished the ointment. I felt goosebumps run over my body at the feeling of her breath on the back of my neck. I slowly stood and turned to face her.

"Thank you," I said softly. You're welcome." Beth replied with a smile, looking up to meet my eyes. Those sapphire eyes seemed to pull me in as I stood there. The scent of lavender and citrus started to overwhelm my senses as I looked down at Beth. My eyes drifted down to her pink lips, and I swallowed nervously before making eye contact, which was a mistake. The fact that I had been caught was made evident by the smirk that formed on her lips.

I stepped back and shook my head to clear those thoughts. I looked back to Beth, who was observing me. I cleared my throat and looked at the clock on the wall: 7:37. "I should probably get some sleep." I said, looking back at Beth, who nodded after a minute.

She walked into the back room like earlier, brought a small foil package, and put it in my hand, "Some Tylenol to help with the pain." She explained, handing me a water bottle, "Thank you-" I started to say before she cut me off. "No need to thank me, it's my job." She said with a smile, "Still, thank you." I said, then I popped the two pills in my mouth, took a swig of water, and sat it on the side table after.

I played in the bed and watched as Beth started packing up. She wasn't physically strong, but she had a grace to her movements that made it look like she was flowing water. Every time it looked like she would run it to something, she would ever so slightly shift out of the way and skirt it. It wasn't awkward or jerky like most would move either, but the thing that made it even better was that it didn't even look like she knew she was doing it.

"If you take a picture, it'll last longer." Beth said, looking at me, "If I had a camera, I would." The words left my mouth before my brain could process my actions. Her eyes widened at my response, and I decided to change the subject before I dug myself deeper, "How do you fight?" I asked quickly; she looked at me like I had lost my mind for a second; Shit, "what do you mean?" She asked me, not like I was crazy but more confused.

"Do you fight with a gun, knives, a sword, or anything like that?" I answered, "I've used a knife mostly and a gun when it's needed, but as you can tell, I'm not much of a fighter. That's why I've been learning medicine." She explained, gesturing to herself.

I looked her up and down, assessing her. She was at a disadvantage in size and strength but had the edge in speed and agility. If my assumption that she was the one who sewed me up was correct, then she was also extremely skilled with hand-eye coordination based on how clean my stitches were, and her instinct, from what I could tell, was well honed.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, I met her eyes, "With proper training, you could even take someone my size down easily." I told her, and her eyes widened, "Not with strength but with speed; you could get in close and finish them off with a blade or using some form of hand-to-hand. A blade would probably be better until you build up muscle." I finished explaining; I couldn't tell what she was thinking because she was looking at the ground, "I'm not a fighter; I stay back so I can take care of people when they get hurt." she said softly