Changing Dynamics

2026 July Round-up Challenge

By jfclover

~*~*~*~*~

News travels fast.  Bad news even faster, and as Candy and I travel down C Street in the buckboard, Howard Kravets comes running our way.  His shouts are loud, and the two of us turn toward his high-pitched voice.

“She’s been shot!  She’s been shot!  Tilly Garrett’s been shot!”

I glance at Candy, chuck the reins, and speed down to The Silver Dollar where Tilly has been employed for the last few months.  What in God’s name has happened?  Why has my friend been shot, and how had Howard Kravets become the town crier?  I’m at a loss, but we’ll soon find out what’s happened.  Hop Sing’s supplies will have to be put on hold.

We both jump down from the buckboard and hurry into the saloon.  Although Candy hangs back, I rush forward. “Move aside,” I say as I push my way through the crowd of drunken patrons who surround the barmaid’s body.  These fools only stare.  They do nothing to help my friend.  “Tilly.  It’s Joe.  Joe Cartwright.”

Her eyelids lift slowly.  She tries to smile, but it’s more of a grimace, and when a tear vanishes into her hairline, I begin to understand the pain she’s in.  “Help’s on the way.”

I look up at Sam the bartender, and after seeing my pleading eyes, he says,  “Kravets should be back any minute.” 

I nod and then return my attention to Tilly.  “Let’s get you down to docs.”  I slip my left arm under her shoulder and my right arm under her knees.  She weighs next to nothing, and when I hold her tight to my chest, her breathing frightens me.  And though I’m no doctor, I know enough to realize that Tilly is in trouble, bad trouble.

Candy holds the batwings open, and Tilly and I slide through the doors at an angle.  As I walk down the boardwalk, Candy races ahead to let Paul know we’re on our way.  But when he pulls a paper off the doctor’s front door, his posture changes.  His shoulders slump, and he turns toward me.  “He’s out at the Millers.”

“Is the door locked?”

He turns the knob and pushes the door open.  “Let us through, Candy.”

After laying Tilly on the doc’s surgical table, I glance at the amount of clothing the girl is wearing.  She’s been shot in the right shoulder, and since I didn’t stay in the saloon long enough to ask questions, I don’t know if this was a stray bullet or an intentional shooting.  But does it matter? A bullet is a bullet, and with the doc out of town, it’s up to Candy and me to save this girl from an early death.

I start with the buttons of her blouse.  Little pearls that are too small for my fingers to grasp, but that’s when I realize I’ll never be able to get her arm through the sleeve without cutting the damn material away.  God knows, it has been done to me more than once.  After lifting a white cotton cloth, I pick up a pair of scissors that lay on Paul’s tray.  I have to assume these items have been cleaned and are ready to go. I begin cutting.

When the fabric gives way, I do the same with her chamise and then cover her breasts with a clean towel.  After glancing over my shoulder toward the Doc’s front door—and hearing nothing—I lay the scissors on the tray, but my hand shakes.  I take a deep breath, but my nerves are frazzled, and I’m not at all prepared for the next step.  Shoving the pointed knife into Tilly’s pure, white skin is more than I can handle.  I look up at Candy.  I want to see confidence in his eyes, but that doesn’t happen.

“What do you think, Joe?”

I shake my head and take a cleansing breath.  “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

~*~*~

“Why won’t you go upstairs with me, Joe?”

“Because we’re too good of friends.”

“I don’t understand.  Do you even like me?”

“I like you a lot, Tilly.  You know that.”

“Then why won’t you go upstairs?”

“It’s because I like you that I can’t go up there with you.  Going upstairs will change the dynamics of our relationship.”

“Change the what?”

“The dynamics.  I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

~*~*~

With the back of my right hand, I wipe a sprinkle of perspiration from my forehead, and then I think back to those awful days inside The Silver Dollar after our conversation. As soon as I stroll into the saloon, Tilly will find some man’s lap to sit on.  The little barmaid knows all my secrets.  She knows how much I dislike Jim Harris.  He’d cheated my father and wasn’t welcome back on the Ponderosa.  Then there’s Hector Lively.  She stands and locks her fingers at the back of his neck.  She knows I despise the man, and she’s certain to let me know that I’ve done her wrong.

All that aside, it’s time to do what I’ve come to do, and I dab a cloth saturated with alcohol on the wound.  Tilly nearly jumps off the table, and when I glance at Candy, the sadness in his eyes comes across loud and clear.  I need his assurance, but that isn’t going to happen today. 

When I reach for the scalpel and try to position it in my hand, I fumble the damn instrument, and it clatters onto the wood floor.  I’m frustrated with myself.  I’m frustrated with the whole world.  On the tray lies another scalpel, and I take hold.  This time, I’ll hang on tight, but when Candy winks and smiles, I see light at the end of the tunnel.  Candy exhales, and after turning and looking over my shoulder, I let out a heavy breath. 

“Paul.  Thank God.” The dynamics have changed, and I believe that Tilly will understand the true meaning this time!

The End

7 – 2026