Three miles out in the West Texas hills was a natural surprisingly well stocked pond. A nice getaway with a peaceful serenity about the area. Well shaded by a grove of trees yet surrounded by cactus less than a quarter mile in all directions. This might be referred to as an oasis if it had trees with fruit on them. Lacking in edible items unless you enjoyed leaves and blossoms, they at least had a restful vibe to them in the harsh desert landscape. The pond was called Fisher's Tub. Physician Mayfair Hollister was on holiday, claiming three days all to his lonesome to get away from the petty coughs of Sugar Plum's imaginary ills.
Dr. Hollister was a man in his 60's with a Colonel Sanders vibe going on. Silver hair shoulder length with a goatee and a narrow pointy moustache. Eyesight waning, he wore spectacles he designed himself to see better. A rather short fellow at 5'5, 130 pounds he kept as fit as his age allowed him. Top hat resting on a rock, white shirt with grey trousers held up by suspenders he had his shoes off for comfort. Hearing a horse, he did however draw a shiny new Colt.45 from a holster at his side. Resting his fishing pole with another rock on it he stood up and moved behind a tree until he knew who his company was. His horse named Snake Oil rested in the shade two trees away. Reacting to the rider Snake Oil whinnied as Hollister winced and calmed his steed with soft whispers. Once his vision allowed him to recognize the rider, he carefully lowered his pistol's hammer.
"Brutus Kinkaid?" Hardly fearing the man Mayfair dropped his arm to his hip. "Over here Kinkaid! Here to rob me of my string of fish?"
"No Sir!" Brutus respected his elder. "Sorry to bother you on yer vacation. Need you in town, Sheriff Barrett got shot right about here. Single bullet!" He pointed to a location on his chest. "Bleedin' bad!"
"Figures! Let me put my shoes on and grab my things." Meaning his hat and coat. The rest could sit idle until he could venture back. "How long has he been down?" A swift collection he untethered Snake Oil and climbed upon his steed.
"Took me maybe twenty minutes to get out here. Another fifteen before I left town. He gonna make it Mayfair?"
"Hard to say. Tom is a strong lad. Lead the way I'll keep up. Is Tom at his home?"
"No Sir! Layin' in the street but in comfort. The new gal in town said not to move him. Could make things worse she said."
"New gal? Is she a looker?"
"You gotta see her Mayfair. What she wears alone is worth a peek see. Tough gal too. She beat Dooley Finn in arm wrestlin' and threw my knife dead on into a pole. Ashamed to say, I couldn't even pull it back out, she did."
"Intriguing! Who is she?" They kicked their horses into high gear in hopes to get back to town in time.
"A bounty hunter I'm guessin' she brought in the six fellas in the Dillsby Gang yesterday. Today she caught a stick of dynamite and bit off the fuse. The gal is loco." No loco than Brutus himself whipping a stick of dynamite at a gunman on horseback. For a butcher of livestock Brutus was handy.
"Indeed! When we get to town run up to my office and grab my black bag."
"Yes Sir! Anythin' else?"
"I keep everything I need in my medicinal case. Antiseptics and tools of the trade."
"I'll do the fetchin'!"
Paradise was left behind. A big fish bit Mayfair's lure and yanked the pole out into the pond. Story of his life.
********
"Careful Miss L'Amour."
"You jus' shade us, Mort. I got this." Sadie Outlaw, aka L'Amour, warned the town tailor Mortimer Cromwell, his hands shaking for Sadie. She could tell by the shadow of the umbrella trembling on the ground. It was rather distracting, but again so was Sadie's butt crack rising up over her constrictive black leggings. There were more men behind her than in front for a certain. She didn't have time to be flattered with Sheriff Tom Barrett at her mercy. Biting down on a pair of scissors Tom was handling Sadie's careful cuts with Ira Grennen's pocketknife. Still, the baritone hisses Tom was exhausting was met with gross expressions, her entourage squeamish at the blood flow.
"Everyone got my backside?" She growled mid concentration. All nods, of course, gentlemen to the bitter end. Her end that is. They were all trying to read her tiny tattoo that read, "Thank you for Your Service." Those that did decipher it had no clue what it meant. Shrugs were met with drooling mouths, chins wiped time and time again. "Alright, nurses... Dr. L'Amour is ready to go diggin' in. I might need those scissors back now Tom. Anyone back there got a replacement bite down?"
Saloon owner Alfred DuPont removed a tin drinking flask from his vest and uncorked it first, took a swig then resealed it before letting Tom Barrett use it as a clamp down. A glance up at it Sadie winced, "That there flask sure looks like my old tin that was left down to me by my great gramps, Jessup. Can't see the front of it for markings but I swear it's the same tin only newer without the age mine has. You seein' that Tilly?"
"I see what you do Sadie. You must save Tom Barrett; his death should not be until 1891. He lives to see his son William have his own first-born child in Houston."
"Tom ever go and get married?"
"Yes. Shortly after Mortimer Cromwell exposes himself to Clara Beth Jenkins... Tom proposes."
"Well hell! I was hopin' to bed down Barrett before I left Sugar Plum. Healed up or not."
"That is not advisable."
"Yeah! Yeah! You do yer thing, I'll do mine. I'm goin' in for that slug." Sadie controls her fear and hesitance and just enters the incision an relies on her keen eyesight to use her fingers to widen the wound in order to locate the bullet. The scissors were not the finest instrument she could use but until Doc Hollister made it back, she had to use what was at her disposal. "Keep those coals burnin' Alfie. I'll need the fire to cauterize Tom's wound seein' as I don't have any stitchin'."
"You do Miss L'Amour." The tailor spoke back up. "I always carry a needle and thread on me."
"Good man Mort. Break that there needle out and thread the eye good. Alfie there can warm the needle. Try'n not burn through the thread Alfred."
"Aye!" Alfred was relaxing his attitude toward Sadie seeing how in control she was. Hardly used to any other woman besides Millie concerning bossiness he was usually the aggressor. He did however admire a positive, confident attitude once it was established.
"I think I have the bullet if I can jus' hold on to it. These scissors are meant for cuttin' not clampin' down on solid things. I might have to reach in with my nails and drag it out. Get me plenty of clothe torn up to bandage his wounds. Belts even... unless you fellas back there are afraid yer trousers with hit the dirt." She mused under stress. "I can use those belts and suspenders to hold the material to Tom's chest." A magnificent chest it was now that his shirt was opened to give her room to work. Just eying his musculature Sadie was getting wet between her thighs. Nothing new! "Mind out of one gutter, finger's need to be in Tom, not my twat." Tilly sighed at Sadie's obscure timing. "Hey! Blame those Manites!" Nanites! But they did make her man hungry.
"Concentrate please." Tilly insisted.
"I'm tryin'! You can't tell me you didn't get all worked up when Brandon stopped by."
"That was different Sadie. I... can we change the subject? In my paralysis I cannot... touch myself. Nor feel those urges. My thoughts are all I have to enjoy."
"Shit! I'm sorry Till. I didn't even think about that."
"I manage. Don't think I still ignore porn. It at least settles my nerves and fulfills my mental need."
"Well, as ya know I got no porn here in 1876 so I gots to make my own. Changin' history or not. You can't tell me you didn't change nothin' when you came back."
"You're right. I did. However, I was more careful about it. And I was only in 1876 for a month before my fall. Corona Wabash got me out of a hospital in El Paso a week later. I stationed myself there to wait on Jessup."
"I think I have the bullet it wiggled a bit. There's so much blood it's hard to hold on to."
"Be delicate! One wrong move could kill him."
"Don't remind me. My tits are shakin' as it is." Not really! Her cleavage was bursting however, which explained why all of her male admirers had moved from behind her to the front. She knew but had no time to acknowledge them, her brow sweating more bullets than the one in Tom's chest cavity. "Dammit!" She cursed, the gentlemen coyly diverting their attention presuming she was offended by their lustful gazes. "I can't get a good grip on it. Wish I had me a magnet."
"That would not help. Bullets are ferromagnetic because of being lead and copper."
"Right! Graspin' for straws Tilly. I need real grips not pointy clothe snips and fat fingertips. Wait! Mort? You know where the Doc's office is... break in and grab his medical tools. Let's hope he didn't take those fishin' with him."
"What if the door is locked?"
"Fuck! Alfred... go with him. You're an ox you can bust a door down."
"Aye Lass!" Alfred jumped to his feet and left the needle on the bedding at Tom's hip. Running through the streets and up a wooden staircase they came to Mayfair Hollister's office and home. Three body thrusts into the locked door Alfred let Mortimer in. Spotting Hollister's medical bag he opened it and found multiple tools. The two men returned post haste. As they did, they noticed a buckboard coming up the street.
"Miss Jenkins is here Miss L'Amour." Kerwin Belcher the local telegraph operator who had been on lunch pointed it out to Sadie.
"Good! She can hold Tom's hand to keep him with us." She noted Tom ready to pass out.
Pulling up with Father Rodrigo he helped Clara Beth to the street. Running up to Sadie she was bawling her eyes out. Mortimer resting Hollister's medical bag next to Sadie knelt and opened it up, hoping to help.
"Tom? I'm here!" Clara Beth gripped his left hand. "Are you a doctor?" She swiftly turned her attention on Sadie.