〖❝ᴄᴀʀᴘᴇᴛ ʙᴀɢ❞〗

তততততততততততততততততততততততত

        𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌, 𝐁𝐀𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃. She sat the bag on a nearby table and hoisted the man up, gently laying him on the bed.

        He was still wearing the clothes he'd been before, a white shirt, a gold suit vest with embroidered paisleys and black trousers. He had short reddish-brown hair that parted in the middle, framing his face. He wore a couple of rings, wrought with gold, and encrusted with rubies. He was an ashy white shade, with lips matching deathly color.

        Lina set to work, putting a lot of water to boil and fill the air up with steam. She wet a washcloth with the remaining cool water and gingerly wiped the blood off his mouth. She washed it off and placed it on his forehead, which was hot to the touch. She took a small knife out of her bag and sliced some ginger in even thin pieces. She put the slices into the boiling water, letting them simmer for quite some time. She picked the pot up and poured some of the liquid into a coffee cup, grabbing a small jar of honey from her bag. She poured a little in, mixing it with a spoon.

        At this point, the man was starting to stir. His eyes fluttered open.

        "Who-" was all he got out.

        "Hush and drink this." Lina handed him the small tin filled with the tea. He feebly raised it to his lips and drank, eyes widening with surprise at the warmth, then closing with pleasure. "Soothing on the throat," Lina commented, just trying to stave off the awkward tension in the air. "Lina Tso, medicine woman." she introduced herself.

        "No-" he started again.

        "You need to change and go to bed. You need the rest after your episode. I suggest leaving the kettle on, with little wood." she paused. "The steam will help dislodge and soften any mucus that's been resting in your lungs. Now, I have got to go to bed, I will leave the honey here and you can make yourself more tea if you are able enough. The ginger is already in the kettle." and with that, she left, before the gambler could even get a word out edgewise.

        Lina stalked through the hall and back into her room, careful to make no noise. She stepped back into her room and set the small bag upon a small table by the bed. She stopped a moment to see if she could hear any noise from the other room. She heard nothing.

        Morning came and went, and Lina had gotten ready and eaten. She walked down the stairs and back into the saloon, sitting down at the bar. She talked with the barkeep, Sam, for quite a while. When she was done, she'd managed to snatch a job in the back as a dishwasher and a cook for better pay than the job was worth.

        The first two weeks of the job was fine, she had short hours, working in the morning during breakfast and cleaning the dishes from the night before. She became quite good friends with Sam, whom she held conversations about everything under the sun as she worked. He became a sort of a father figure to her, a stable person in her life. She hadn't had one of those since she left her home.

        She hadn't seen the sickly gambler again. He must have moved rooms upon the incident she met him upon. She knew the man was still in town, for she heard the buzz of his odd late-night escapades at the faro table. Either he'd made it a point not to see her and he'd memorized her hours, or he stayed up way too late and slept in too far into the daytime. She didn't hold the man to blame, she wasn't much for grudges anyway. She realized how odd it probably was for someone to come in while you were weak and take care of you. She felt no shame in her actions though, they were for the good of that man, and she didn't harbor any regrets about it.

        She still saw his mustachioed friend around and learned that he was the brother of the new marshal, Virgil Earp. She placed him as Wyatt and the deputy as Morgan. All three brothers had fine manners and respectful ways about a lady, and Lina appreciated that. Especially compared to the cowboys. Like Ike Clanton, who came onto her twice when he was drunk. She was saved by Virgil and Sam both times. It took her all of her strength not to strangle that man with the tacky red sash he wore around his waist.

        One day, a woman with snow-white hair and bright blue eyes came into the saloon. The first word that came to Lina's mind when she got a glimpse was snowbird. She spoke with a soft wispy voice and treaded almost as carefully as Lina. She asked about a room, which Sam answered. She was to stay in the one next to Lina's. The gambler's.

        Lina invited her over for ginger tea, which she had taken a liking to after the incident. The girl's name was Mary Jane, intelligent and eccentric. She spoke of many things that Lina didn't understand, but Lina listened anyway, soaking up the information like a sponge. Lina shared some of her own knowledge, of the herbs and the ways of her people. the two had a pleasant conversation and vowed to do so more often.

        After a while longer, Mary Jane gained a job too, alongside Lina. She took orders and served food while Sam worked the register and Lina cooked. Lina started working night hours. The town was beginning to grow at a rapid rate. It was her first night, working, and she was eager to see if her theory about the sick man was right, that he'd been avoiding her all these months. She had no time to see, for a Mexican girl in a white shirt and a red riding skirt burst into the saloon. She was out of breath when she entered, running up to the bar. She was short in stature and rather stunning in the face. She stopped and looked around frantically.

        Sam went into the cellar to fetch more whiskey and scotch, so Lina rushed to the bar.

        "What is it?" She asked, trying to put her voice in a soothing tone.

        "I need a room, now! I'll pay you later," She was already off towards the stairs. "just get me out of here!" Lina snatches the large ring of keys and trailed after her. She took her own key and opened the door to her room.

        "Stay in here for now. Sam will hang me if he finds out I put an unpaid tenant in a room, so you stay here until further notice. Call?"

        "Call." the girl replied as she plopped down on Lina's bed. Lina shut the door and locked it, rushing down the stairs. Whatever it was the girl was running from, she didn't want in her goddamn saloon.

        There it was, the culprit. One Billy Clanton, stumbling in, headed to go harass whoever was playing the piano and the scantily clad lady leaning on the player's back. She couldn't kick him out, he made them too much money. So she watched.

        "Hey! Is that old dog trey?" Billy asked, leaning up against the piano. "That sounds like Old Dog Trey to me," he added, in a manner that made Lina's face contort into a snarl.

        "Pardon?" The player asked, inclining his head toward him.

        "Y'know. Stephen foster. "Oh Susannah", "Camptown Races"." he paused. "Stephen stinkin' Foster!" he finished, voice raised.

        "Oh yes, well this happens to be a nocturne." the piano man replied, and Lina couldn't tell if the response was drunken, or just eerily calm.

        "A which?" Billy retorted, head bobbing a bit as he spoke.

        "You know, Frederic fucking Chopin," he replied shortly.

        Billy delivered a scathing reply, which Lina didn't catch, and walked out of the saloon. She breathed a sigh of relief, she didn't want to have to watch another fight occur indoors. She watched as Mary Jane chatted with Wyatt Earp. They seemed to be doing more of that lately, and Lina could catch the twinkle in his eye that occurred when he talked to Mary from about a mile away. He fancied her. She locked the register with a small key and treaded upstairs. She could hear the Clanton boy yelling for a "Poinsettia" in the streets. Cur, she thought. She unlocked her door and walked in. The girl had settled at the small table in the middle of the room.

       "Billy Clanton is gone from the saloon. You can come now, I just suggest you don't go into the streets," she said, fixing the ruffled bedsheets and pushing in the now empty chair.

        "Thank you kindly..."

        "Lina. May I ask your name?" the girl smiled.

        "Etta, but you can call me Poinsettia."

        "You're welcome, Etta. Now if you'd come with me, we'll find you a room for the night.