WILDWOOD HEALER
Epitaph Press
ISBN: 979-8-9912249-1-8 October 8, 2024
Secrets, lies, and danger hide deep in the Piney Woods of East Texas during the Depression of 1930.
For years, Sicily Rossi has tapped into nature’s remedies to try and ease pain and sickness in her small Texas town. With the Depression raging, most of the residents struggle to survive with no money and little food. When the town bully is found dead, rumors run wild and suspicion falls to Sicily who has been helping his tormented wife escape his clutches.
Though threatened and treated like a criminal, the law is slow to put Sicily away on gossip alone. As the stakes climb higher each day, she knows she will need some help if not a miracle.
It is not until the townspeople push back against tyrannical power and take hold of their own fate they see the faint glimpse of a better future. Their tenuous hope is on the line but will they grab hold of a better tomorrow and help Sicily, or will they give up and allow despair to wash over them once again?
AMAZON |
EXCERPT:
The pet’s bright eyes and shiny coat said they’d seen to Gypsy’s care as best they could. Maybe they’d fallen on harder than normal times.
The breed? The scruffy dog like most in the area was of questionable parentage. The way strands of hair hung down in her eyes reminded her of a beloved scamp.
Gypsy finished and lapped at her water bowl then danced on her back legs for her. The pup’s antics soon had Sicily laughing.
You’re a regular show off. It’s time for my walk. Want to come?” The pooch scampered to the door. “I take that as a yes.”
Gathering her burlap bag that she’d fashioned to go over her head and sit on her shoulder, she opened the door and they were off to see what nature’s medicine she could find. It was a lovely October day and the brisk air invigorated her. The pooch too it seemed. Gypsy scampered off to smell every weed, rock, and tree stump. Then the pup spied a squirrel and the race was on until it went up a tree out of reach.
The woods were alive in yellows, golds, and orange leaves each way Sicily looked. In her sixty years, she didn’t think she’d ever seen a more beautiful sight. The trees reminded her of fancy saloon girls putting on a show for their audience. The breeze made the leaves dance and twirl up a storm. Overhead, birds flitted from one colorful branch to the next. Nature loved putting on a show. A graceful heron stood in a pond amid vibrant lily pads.
Sicily followed a well-worn path that she’d taken many times and collected some nice specimens of dandelion root, comfrey, and pennyroyal. Gypsy sniffed it all while she filled her bag. They climbed an incline, and she found some treasures in the dense carpet of needles and cones that she hadn’t run across in a while—Indian Pipe and healing rattlesnake root. It was a good day. Satisfied, they continued their walk just for fun before turning back.
She’d grown up at her parents’ side, learning all about herbs, roots, and bark they found in the Piney Woods. Being as how they’d come from Tennessee, they’d had tremendous knowledge of nature’s remedies and gladly taught her. They’d been gone now for many years.
They neared the house when Gypsy raced ahead barking at the man sitting on her porch in the rocker. Drawing closer Sicily recognized her friend, Albert James, a regular visitor.
“Howdy, Albert. I reckon you came after more of my rheumatiz medicine.”
Clad in patched overalls, he pulled his tall frame painfully from the rocker. Rubbing his knee, he grabbed his long walking stick. “Yes’um, I shore do need some.” Albert glanced down at Gypsy sniffing his leg. “When did you get a mutt?”
“Found her on my porch this morning. Her name’s Gypsy. I guess someone decided I needed company.” Sicily removed the burlap bag from her shoulder. “Have I ever complained of being lonely?”
“No, ma’am. Ain’t rightly heard you say so. Cute little rascal.”
“That she is.”
“Name’s Gypsy?”
“That what the note said that I found with her. Do you know this dog?” she asked.
“Nope, sure don’t. Maybe you need a pet. Keep you from being too crotchety.” His wide grin flashed his toothless gums.
“Albert, you don’t know the meaning of crotchety. Just you wait until I get a few more years on me. I might start carrying my rifle and shooting anyone sitting on my porch.”
He threw back his head and laughed, shaking a finger. “Now I know why you ain’t never found you a husband, Miz Sicily. You’re meaner than a snake, old woman. You run off men with your sharp tongue.”
“Good!” She didn’t need a man underfoot. Nope. Those days were over. She held the door and Gypsy raced inside. Albert removed his floppy hat and followed at a much slower pace. “Who said I was old? Have folks been talking about me in Silsbee again?” she asked.
“Aw, you know how they are. Gotta keep the rumor mill goin’.”
“That’s the trouble with people. Got to be talking about someone. I reckon when they speculate about me, they’re giving others a rest. Have a seat and I’ll get your remedy.”
He eased into a chair. “One of these days I’m gonna git too feeble to walk here.”
“You can always find some kid willing to come after it.” She patted her old friend’s shoulder. “Or I might bring it to you when you get in a bad way.”
“Thank you.” He covered her hand with his callused one. “One thing I count on Miz Sicily is jawing with you.”
