Over the next twelve hours, I worked harder than I ever had in my life, just to keep Rafe Brooks alive.
Doc was as good as his word. He made it back with amazing alacrity, carrying an old-fashioned black medical bag. He laid it on the kitchen table and began removing things from it.
First there was a burlap bag full of onions. And then he pulled out a handful of bright orange flowers, complete with the roots attached. Next came a clutch of odd-looking tubular dried flowers. I was beginning to have my doubts; was this old man out of his mind?
“Don't go panicking, Nell dear. I promise these all make sense." He picked up the bag of onions. “If you would, cut the onions up in slices and set them to cooking a bit. We're going to need them for a poultice."
I had no earthly idea what a poulti
