As a Multiple Sclerosis patient, it has become necessary for me to reinvent myself. I have ... and continue to ... refuse to lie down and die, or in this case, follow the normally prescribed drugs and treatments that do nothing to defeat my disease. I am not only surviving by pursuing alternatives, I am thriving. I do the things specialists told me I would never be able to do. I walk and hope to one day even run regularly. I retain my cognitive and creative abilities for the pleasure of my readers. Although you may never see me on my daily walk, you are welcome to read my novel(s) and in doing so, come to ask yourself, "How can the 'out of the box' protocol she has followed, help my loved one with an autoimmune disease like Multiple Sclerosis?"


WIP - The Talisman - Chapter 4 - Part C

Chapter 4
Part C

He grimaced, pulling his head back. "What's with the high fa-lutten words? Ya from back East somewhere's? I ain't heard that kind of gibberish since I was a youngster." He settled back against a rather large, downed tree and relaxed, his knees flexed and his arms draped across his thighs.
A wolf howled in the distance sending a shiver up her spine. How close was it? Would it be safe to travel alone? Through this canyon in the dark? The possibilities raced across her mind. Although she would be considered a city girl in this era, she knew enough to know the answers to her questions. Too close, no, and no. The wolf howled again as if finalizing her decision. A choice she didn't want to make.
"I tell you what. You haul dead Old Curly away from here and I'll share the fire with you," she bargained.
"Tell you what. We leave Old Curly where he is. Put our bedrolls on this side of the fire and let the wolves have him tomorrow while we mosey on down the canyon."
"I'm not sleeping near a dead body." She cringed, had she really killed a man? No, she could never even hurt a man… but she had this time.
He almost smiled "Put 'im out in the cold and invite the wolves to dinner, eh? Or maybe you plan to fight the pack off yourself. Either way, the wolves'll have dinner. I'm thinkin' I'll stay right here, near the fire and put the vittles out for 'em when we leave at daybreak."
She stared at him, relaxing her grip on the rifle. "Yeah, but can I trust you?"
In one fluid motion he sprung to his feet, grabbed his knife and held it to her throat. Trish froze. He held her against him, his blade centimeters from her neck for several minutes before releasing her. He stepped away into the darkness. Her knees nearly buckled, and her whole body trembled.
"If I was gonna help Old Curly or hurt ya, ya couldn't a stopped me. Settle your roll by the fire an' I'll check the horses. Just don't shoot me when I come back."
She stared after him as he disappeared into the darkness.
...next week...Chapter 5
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