If he found her story hard to believe, he didn’t say so. She gave him her best smile, which made him blink a few times. “I’m José.”
She stuck out her hand to shake. “Maria.”
José drove past the end of the road and over the lumpy ground. He parked as close to the barn as possible. They had to walk the rest of the way. Ian was in the same place she’d left him, but he’d thrown off the blanket. He was shirtless and semiconscious, fever-flushed.
“Can he stand up?” José asked.
“I don’t know.”
She gathered Ian’s things, taking care to hide his gun holster, and helped José lift him to his feet. Ian didn’t fight, but he didn’t really cooperate either. They each took a side of his body. They had to sort of drag him along, and it was slow going.
“Wait,” José said.
She stopped to rest, breathing hard.
He bent down and boosted Ian over his shoulder, carrying him the rest of the way. José was short, but powerfully compact. He grunted at her to open the tailgate. She did, helping him put Ian in the back of the truck. Then she climbed inside with him and cradled his head on her lap. It was a rocky ride. The jostling motions seemed to nauseate him. He rolled over and vomited weakly, coughing up about a handful of stringy bile.
She grimaced and rubbed his shoulders.Pobrecito.
“Where are we?” he rasped.
“In a farmworker’s truck.”
He closed his eyes, nodding. Ten minutes later, they were at the rancho. He was alert enough to walk now, with help. José took him to a guest room and laid him down on a single bed. The accommodations were basic, but comfortable. Ian passed out again immediately.
The house belonged to a woman named Doña Cristina, who seemed delighted to have interesting guests. Maria told her that Ian was from Argentina, a country known for tall, European-looking men. Then she asked if there was a doctor nearby.
“I can bring thecurandera,” José offered. “She lives just down the road.”
Maria agreed, thanking him for his help. She didn’t want to involve a doctor or hospital unless she had to. A medicine woman could evaluate Ian’s condition and let her know how serious it was. For the next hour, she waited at Ian’s bedside, holding his hand.
Thecuranderacame at dusk. She was a plump woman in a flowered dress. She said her name was Xochilt. First she did a routine sort of exam, palpating different areas of Ian’s body and checking his throat. Then she took out a feathered, yarn-wrapped staff and moved it over his prone form from head to toe. Bracelets jangled on her wrist as she worked.
“Does he have any wounds?” she asked Maria.
“On his thigh.”
“Let’s see it.”
Maria stepped forward to unbuckle his belt, blushing a little. Doña Cristina watched the proceedings with interest. Xochilt shooed the other woman out and closed the door behind her. Maria lowered his pants to the knees, exposing his wounded thigh. And everything else, because he was naked beneath the fabric. Xochilt removed the bandage carefully. The skin around the wound was red and puffy, the stitches wet with seepage.
“What happened here?”
“He um, fell on a sharp branch. Hiking.”
“Hmm,” Xochilt said. “I will make a poultice to draw out the infection.” She helped Maria take his pants off completely. Then she tossed a blanket over him and went to work. After she found the right ingredients in her bag, she mixed them in a pot on the stove. The end result looked like hot green tar. “You have to hold him.”
Maria held Ian’s hand, nervous.
“No,m’ija. He is a large man. Put your weight on him.”
She stretched out across his upper torso as thecuranderaapplied the poultice. Just as she’d anticipated, Ian almost bucked off the bed. He hollered words that blistered her ears. Then he quieted, breathing heavily.
Xochilt smiled at the strong reaction. She covered his thigh with a square of muslin and returned to her bag, removing a syringe and a vial of clear liquid.
“What’s that?” Maria asked.
“Antibiotic,” the woman answered with a chuckle. Apparently she believed in modern medicine, in addition to natural remedies. She gave him the shot in the right buttock. He flinched at the sting. “Your man is young and strong. His fever-sickness should pass soon. If he’s not better tomorrow, send José for me.”
