By the time the doctor arrived, panting after his rushed trip on horseback in the heat, things moved fast. There was little that could be done in the way of treatment for the man's condition. The lump on his head was severe enough to worry the doctor.<br/><br/>The crowd of girls gathered around Lila and the doctor, watching the stranger, and his johnson, flop about. His head was quickly treated with an herb poultice, then wrapped tightly with clean linen to hold the herbs in place. The burns were another story. He was quickly declining, the still weight of death visible even in unconsciousness. Lila had seen it almost as much as the doctor.<br/><br/>"Thank you, Miss Lila, if I'd known, I would have brought along my own supply," the doctor was saying as she sent one of the girls after her box of medical herbs.<br/><br/>Bethany, giggling and blushing, hurried off after the box. The rest of the girls remained, whispering behind their hands, pointing, and giggling in hushed tones. One look from Lila,<span style="font-style: italic">the look</span>and they all scampered.<br/><br/>Bethany returned with the box and Lila set to work, grinding Aloe, chamomille, and a strange, aromatic oil into a paste. As the doctor slowly began to pour water, a drizzle at a time, into the man's mouth, Lila worked the paste into a perfect consistency.<br/><br/>He was talking as he thrashed, muttering in a harsh rasp about horses and guns and heat. His words were broken, garbled, barely intelligible. She worried about brain fever and worse. They really didn't know what had been done to him.<br/><br/>Just as she looked up, intending to ask the doctor a question, a hand suddenly wrapped around the back of her neck. A rough, hard, trembling hand. He pulled her down, eyes blank and full of madness, and kissed her roughly. Before she had time to reflexively shove him away, he collapsed again.<br/><br/>Now, the fits were gone. He stopped mumbling. He nearly stopped breathing. She looked at the doctor, eyes tense.