America 1883: The Western Homeland

Chapter 65 The Migrating Caravan, A Final Separation

Tom didn't stop.

He immediately applied a thick layer of the prepared cool, slippery cactus honey ointment to Elsa's swollen shoulders and collarbone.

As soon as the ointment came into contact with the skin, the burning redness and swelling seemed to subside a little.

Next, he picked up a cork removed from an abandoned whiskey barrel, softened it by the fire, and then quickly and skillfully shaped it to fit the curve of Elsa's collarbone, gently pressing it onto the medicated skin.

"Bandages!" Simone quickly handed over the torn strips of cloth.

Tom didn't use the usual way of tying her up.

He used the deer tendons (muscles) that had become strong after being soaked, along with strips of cloth, to cross and wrap around Elsa's chest and back, finally tying a knot above her healthy shoulder to form a huge figure-eight (figure-eight bandage).

He carefully placed a small cloth bag under Elsa's armpit, stuffed with dried pine needles.

"Listen, Simone!" he gasped, his back soaked with sweat. "If this pine needle pack gets crushed and makes a rustling sound, tell me immediately! That means the bandage is too tight and is pressing on a blood vessel!"

Finally, he took a piece of tanned, soft bison hide, cut it into the shape of a shoulder guard, covered the bandage, and tightened it securely with a leather belt.

A simple yet meticulously crafted "wilderness armor" was completed.

The sky was already beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn.

Elsa remained unconscious, but her breathing seemed to have stabilized somewhat.

Tom was so exhausted he was almost collapsing.

But he still picked up a pine cone he had gathered by the river and put it into Elsa's uninjured left hand.

"Hold on tight, Elsa," his voice was hoarse, carrying an undeniable force, "Hold on tight!"

Under everyone's tense gaze, Elsa's intact left hand, the fingers trembling slightly and unconsciously at first, then, extremely slowly but with extraordinary determination... closed!

She grasped the pine cone!

"Good girl!" Margaret cried tears of joy.

Tom lifted Elsa's injured elbow: "Now, slowly bend your arm, like pulling on reins..."

Elsa's brow furrowed in pain again, but this time, with Tom's guidance and encouragement, her arm began to bend upwards very slowly.

When she bent to about thirty degrees, the excruciating pain caused her to let out an uncontrollable whimper.

"It's okay if it hurts," Tom's voice was unusually gentle as he softly wiped Elsa's chapped lips with a damp cloth. "The pain means your bone knows it's made a mistake, and it's desperately trying to grow back! It's trying to write a letter to you: Don't give up!"

The morning light finally pierced the last darkness, shining on the weary but hopeful people.

Elsa remained unconscious, but her left hand clutched the pine cone tightly as her injured arm began its long and painful recovery journey.

The wind blows through the wilderness, carrying the bitterness of willow bark and the fragrance of cactus, as well as a faint glimmer of life called "possibility".

The campfire crackled, illuminating Tom's tired face.

He took a sip of water and reported Elsa's condition to Margaret: "Elsa's injury... has a long way to go. We need to prevent bacterial infection, do rehabilitation training, and if all goes well, she can recover in eight weeks."

Margaret clutched the hem of her dress, her voice trembling almost imperceptibly: "Tom...Elsa, to what extent can she recover?"

She had no interest in investigating the origins of Tom's miraculous healing methods.

"It's up to her," Tom said confidently, the firelight flickering in his eyes. "Don't worry, she's tough; she'll recover completely!"

Seeing Tom's resolute expression, Margaret's tense shoulders finally relaxed a little, revealing a relieved smile.

"Tom, how could you..." James couldn't help but ask.

"James!" Margaret interrupted sharply.

Tom waved his hand, not avoiding the question: "During the few days we parted ways on the road, I ran into an old doctor from New York. By chance, he taught me a few things. He's already back in New York."

He spoke in a flat tone, as if he were talking about a trivial matter.

Margaret and James exchanged a quick glance; whether Tom believed it or not, he didn't care.

At that moment, Shea walked over with Thomas, Wade, and Joseph.

Ennis remained silently by Elsa's carriage.

"We can't stay here any longer," Shay said bluntly. "When are you leaving?"

James immediately looked at Tom: "Can Elsa leave right away?"

"It's difficult." Tom shook his head. "Her bones have just been reset, and she's most vulnerable to jostling. Any movement will cause her pain. She needs a safe place to rest for eight weeks."

The answer was exactly what everyone expected.

Elsa could no longer travel with the convoy across the Rocky Mountains.

"You guys keep going," James said decisively. "We'll stay and wait until Elsa recovers."

The journey westward ends here.

Shay's gaze swept over James and Tom, finally settling on the blurry figures inside the carriage.

After nearly half a year of sharing life and death, going through gunfire together... the moment of parting has come, and it may be a final farewell.

He swallowed hard and nodded emphatically: "Head towards Montana, there's a valley we can spend the winter in. We'll go to Oregon in the spring."

Shay described the route through the valley in detail, nodded heavily to James' family, his eyes reddening slightly, and turned to leave.

"team leader!"

Shay paused, then turned around.

Tom smiled sincerely. "Want to see what this wild west will become? Come back and find us! We need manpower to build a large ranch or farm in the west. Captain Shay, Thomas, Wade! Welcome to the team!"

"I'm sorry..." Shay said in a low voice.

"The mission isn't over yet," Tom interrupted him. "Get her to Oregon; there's still time during the winter. We'll spend the winter in Montana, and we might run into her on the road in the spring. If not... could you please take a detour and check if Elsa is still alive?"

His tone was half joking and half serious.

Wade grinned, revealing his white teeth: "Great! I'll definitely come in the spring! My brother's still there!"

He glanced at Ennis beside the carriage; the boy had clearly decided to stay.

Thomas frowned, looking somewhat confused. "I... I'll take another look."

"Okay, see you in the spring!" Tom didn't insist.

Just as everyone was about to leave, a hoarse voice suddenly rang out:

"I...I want to go to Montana with you!"

It was the team's lame old cook.

He rubbed his greasy apron, his voice soft but clear, "Someday... let's build a ranch together. I'm a pretty good cook, okay?"

Tom was somewhat surprised. His gaze lingered on the cook for a moment before finally turning to James.

This cook is dispensable.

The key lies with the father; inviting Shay and the others to join was already an unexpected move, and the father hasn't even given his approval yet.

Now, there's another cook.

James frowned.

"We don't even know where we're going to settle down right now."

James's voice was calm and steady. "You want to come? Sure. But there's no payment until we settle down here. It'll only start when we actually begin building the ranch or farm. Is that okay with you?"

The cook's watermelon-sized head bobbed up and down rapidly: "I'm willing! I...I'm willing!"

Tom's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Something is wrong!