Helena took the bags from Cinnamon, walked over to the kitchen, and put on the tea kettle and a pan of water, then rummaged for some hand towels to use for compresses and cleaning the scrapes and gashes. Once again, she was filled with gratitude for this mysterious woman who’d come into their lives, seemingly just when they needed her.

~*~*~*~*~*

Helena let the herbal blend brew for a few moments, then poured it into two bowls to cool down. She made a little more noise than was really necessary, trying to distract herself…and the others…from the furtive noises outside the house. The rustling, the scraping sounds, as if something chitinous was pulling itself up the driveway. The tea kettle whistled, and she let it shriek for a minute, trying to calm her own nerves, before pouring the water in a cup containing a generous teaspoon of Cinnamon’s herbal mix. She let the tea brew for a minute, added some honey, stirred and set the cup aside. Then she brought one bowl with a hand towel to Dana, who was carefully exploring Bette’s knee with experienced hands, then a second trip to fetch the tea for Bette, who managed a weak but genuine smile of gratitude.

“How does it look?” Helena asked Dana.

“Not as bad as I first thought,” Dana said. “I think she rearranged her patella but hopefully the ligaments are intact.” She smiled up at Bette. “If you’re lucky, they’ll be able to fix you without sending to Sweden for spare parts,” she teased.

Bette rolled her eyes and grinned. “Well, that’s good news. I think.” She sipped her tea and grimaced. The honey helped, but did not mask the bitter taste. “Thanks, Cinnamon.”

Helena knelt by the couch, and began to wash Cinnamon’s legs and stumps where her feet had been. She tried to be gentle as possible but, “You’ve got some gravel that’s in there pretty deep,” she said softly. “This may hurt a little.”

Cinnamon smiled. “Won’t hurt nearly as bad as bein’ jerked up and forced to balance on them pointy stumps o’mine.”