Chapter Text
Onawa saw him fall by his tools just before the firefight began. She held her breath and stared at the lifeless form by the fencepost. Finally, she saw the shallow rise and fall of his chest. She felt the surge of adrenaline as she darted out to grab his ankle. She pulled with all her might, but Big John didn't budge. The gunshots were centered on the cabin, so she belly crawled to his side and shoved hard on his shoulder. She had a travois just in the tall grass. She only needed to get him there. She tore the fabric of her top and pushed the cloth to the wound. I don't think the bullet went in . With renewed determination, she rolled him over. Two more rolls and he'll be to the makeshift pallet. She got him on his back again and he groaned. “Big John, you are shot. I need to get you in the grass.” She saw the faintest of nods and when she went to shove at his shoulder again, he was able to lift and shift enough to make it easier. Finally they were in the grass and she got him on the travois. The gunshots were now exclusively at the cabin and there were definitely fewer. Many people fell; she knew her friend Kotori was one of them. He made her promise to take care of the Rosses if anything happened to him. She had been watching Rose and John from afar for many weeks now. It didn't take much convincing from her childhood friend to take them under her wing. She was very intrigued by John, or, she called him, Big John. He was tall, taller than any warrior in her or any neighboring tribes. He was also hairier... with hair on his face, his neck and even disappearing underneath his shirt. In addition, he seemed kinder and more peaceful than any man out here. Part of her wanted to take care of him and make sure he was safe; another, quieter part of her wanted to know how far the hair underneath his shirt went. She was sure Kotori sensed that intrigue, but he was a good enough friend not to tease her about it.
After she secured him as best she could, she reached for her bag. Onawa opened the pouch of wild bergamot and put it over his wound, she held it down with a dressing that she tied around his head. Seeing the singed skin and hair, she was convinced that the bullet did not enter him. She dug into her bag again and pulled out a chunk of willow bark. She patted Big John’s cheeks to bring him around again.
“Big John….John…”
He moved and groaned again and finally his eyes opened. “Rose? No...who…?”
“I am Onawa, friend of Kotori. Be still. Can you chew this?” She held the bark in front of him. He nodded and opened his mouth. “Once I tend to you, I will scout the cabin when night starts to fall.” The gunshots stopped, she could feel death in the air. At least for now with her help death would not come to Big John Ross.
She softly whistled for her dogs and they quietly appeared. She spoke softly and attached the harnesses to them and adjusted the straps over her own shoulders. She had never used a travois this way before and she hoped it would work long enough to get him to safety. After a slow start she was able to gain momentum and they moved slowly but surely through the tall prairie grass towards the camp that she and Kotori made early that morning. Onawa was tired and sore by the time they got to the camp, but filled with relief that they made it. Big John's eyes were now open and he was moving about a bit. She was able to get him sitting up with his back against a tree. He assured her nearly a dozen times that no he was not dizzy, and yes, he could see how many fingers she was holding up. She made him a broth of mushrooms and medicinal herbs. He ate everything she gave him but he made a face the whole time. She also made sure he drank plenty of water from her waterskin. The sun began to hang low in the sky and Onawa turned to John.
“I am going to the cabin.” He nodded back gravely. She put her hand on his shoulder. “I will be back.” She turned to the dogs and said, “Stay.”
She made her way back to the cabin. It was shot up horribly; bodies littered the ground. Onawa choked back a sob. Kotki was among the dead. She knew he fought bravely and with honor. A young man was slumped up against the wall, sitting in a drying pool of blood from the result of a fatal bullet wound to the stomach. Rose was nowhere to be found. As Onawa moved through the cabin, she noticed that Rose’s clothes and several of her possessions were gone. She left. She thought her father was dead and she ran off. She saw a trunk and opened it to find many of John’s items. She pulled them out and put them on the bed. She found a larger linen and tied everything into a pack. Moving to the kitchen, she found an empty flour sack and filled it with the remaining food. Glancing around she recognized a cup -- it as the one he would use when he stood outside watching the sunrise. She found more linens and wrapped it along with the matching saucer. She combed through the small cabin, gathered all the supplies she could, and then loaded the travois as quickly as possible. She knew scavengers would be here before long and she had to make haste.
Soon she was back at the clearing and she found John still sitting against the tree, sleeping. She touched his brow and was relieved to find it cool and dry. He started and his eyes flew open.
She smiled. “Sorry Big John.”
“Big John… I like that,” he smiled back.
She checked his wound, it stopped bleeding and was barely swollen. She applied more herbs and retied a fresh bandage to his head. She sat across from him and told him what she found and motioned to the many bundles she brought. He hung his head briefly.
“I am glad she is alive; she needed a better life than hiding with her Papa.”
Onawa looked at him, “What will you do?”
He shrugged and smiled. “We made it here with nothing already, just me and her. I can start again.”
“Kotki told me,” she swallowed, “Kotki told me to stay with you.”
“Did he? If you do not want to, I’ll understand. You don’t want to be beholden to an old man like me.”
“I want to. You are a good man. You are not an old man. I am an old soul; we are closer in age than you think, Big John.”
At that, she got up and built a fire. She unpacked the bedding and tried to make a comfortable space for him and set to make a place for herself across from the fire. He was busy pulling out clothes so he could change into something clean and free of blood.
“There is a stream to wash up.” She felt a heat crawl up her neck. “Do you need help?”
He turned, startled. “I think I’ll be ok.” He got up and went toward the area she pointed to.
Stupid girl, she cursed herself as he walked away. While he was gone, Owana set some snares and sat by the fire to take her hair down from the braided coil and comb her fingers through it. She was just about to braid the sides for sleeping when she heard heavy footsteps. John walked into the campsite, the hair at his temples clinging to his skin in damp curls. He was wearing clean trousers and his shirt was still unbuttoned. She sucked in a breath. He is like a bear.
“I'm sorry, I could not get it on properly while damp, I need to dry a bit by the fire.” He looked down, as if realizing he crossed a line.
“Makes sense.” She smiled a little and turned a bit to finish her braiding.
After a few moments, she heard a cough.
“Onawa? My bandage came off in the stream…” He was smiling nervously, biting his lower lip.
She quickly tied off the end of the now finished braid and pushed her loose hair back. She got up and went to her bag to find another long strip to tie a bandage and more wild bergamot.
“Please sit.” she told him as she approached. She was glad that he was able to button up his shirt, she didn’t trust herself not to stare. He sat and she stood to his side inspecting his head. The wound looked clean, one night with the herbs should be enough. She tied the bandage and noticed that some of his hair was tangled in the cloth. She pulled it free and smoothed it down.
As she did that, he felt him relax under her fingers and their was a sudden lightness in her chest. She stepped back and swallows the simmering emotions down, “that should hold until morning.”
“You have been so kind,” John was smiling at her, “can I return the favor?” He gestured to her loose hair.
She looked at him, puzzled. “What?”
“I used to braid Roses hair when she was younger, I could do that side for you.”
She nodded and retrieved her tie. Sitting with her back to him, “Give it your best Big John.”