Alex reacted to the sudden action as if someone had fired the starting pistol of a race. He rose to his feet as if to run.
Beth jumped up and grabbed his wrist across Sally’s body. “Not now, Alex. Please. We need you. Sally needs you.”
A murmur went through the crowd and Beth knew everyone was wondering what she meant. Ignoring her old friends, she did her best not to shame Alex, but if she had to, she’d hog-tie him before she let him leave. Clutching his wrist with such force it drew him out of whatever nightmare he’d descended into, Beth whispered, “If you hadn’t been here, my sister would have died.”
Alex came to her again, locking their eyes, that look, the fear, that drawing force, using her strength and courage because he had none. With the same intuition that guided her in caring for patients, Beth knew Alex hated himself for needing her. Judged himself to be a coward and a failure, contemptible. Or at least he held himself in contempt even as he was surrounded by a town full of people praising God for his presence. “I … I’m not a—”
“Let’s get Sally inside.” Beth’s voice cut through what was most likely going to be a further denial of what Alex was. Not what he did but what he was. The man was a born healer, a caretaker all the way to his bludgeoned soul.
As surely as she knew he needed her by his side for strength, she knew there was no way out for Alex. To walk away from this God-given gift was to walk away from his soul. And that is exactly what Alex had done.
And now it was given to Beth as a charge from the Almighty, to help him regain that part of himself. Only then could Alex be healthy and whole again. Beth assured the Lord she would gladly take on that role for the man who had saved her sister.
Pa lifted Sally, with Ma carefully steadying her head. Sally’s soaking wet hair streamed down. Blood coated Sally’s neck. Her eyes remained swollen and closed. Her face was so covered with welts that her pretty face, so like Beth’s, was disfigured. Ma and Pa kept their eyes locked on the cut and the little tube in her neck. They headed—two people who’d learned to work well together as a unit—toward the empty dry goods store.
Beth was able to get Alex moving without his saying anything more. When at last they reached the store, Beth noticed that many folks had trailed along behind. “Please wait outside,” she asked politely. “And, Laurie, can you get the rest of the family—”
“I’ll take care of them, Beth,” Adam cut in. His ebony black skin wrinkled in concern, but his eyes, as always, were calm and competent. “You just see to Sally.”
“Thank you.” Beth had no idea what she’d been going to say, really. Should the family go home? Should they find a place to stay in town? Whatever were they to do with Ma and Pa and Beth and Sally all unable to take care of them? Laurie could handle it, but she was so young and upset about Sally, too. Adam’s taking over was perfect.
Tillie was at his side. She rested one of her gentle, competent hands on Beth’s wrist. “For now we’ll take them to Parson Radcliff’s. They’ve invited us. We’ll be praying for Sally, honey.” Adam, Tillie, and their three little ones were close friends to the McClellens.
“Thanks, Tillie.” Sighing with relief, Beth kept her tight grip on Alex and dragged him into the store after Ma and Pa. The door swung shut as Pa lay Sally on a counter that looked perfect to hold a cash box and piles of fabric and notions … not an injured young woman, but it worked fine. It was about waist high, the perfect height for them to tend Sally. And there was a soft blanket spread on top.
Mrs. Badje fussed, swiping dust away from every surface in the room, to make a cleaner spot for the wounded girl. Several other church ladies bustled about tidying the store up.
“I’ll need boiling hot water,” Beth said to the kindly Mrs. Badje.
She nodded then vanished out the back as if her only goal in life was to help and be a bother to no one.
Beth turned to her captive—Alex—who, despite his nearly miraculous gift for doctoring, seemed bent on bothering everyone.
He sure as certain bothered Beth something fierce.
Eleven
Let go.” Alex jerked his arm away from the claws Beth had sunk into him. “We’re alone. You don’t have to cover for me anymore.”
“We’re not alone.” Beth jerked her head toward her worried parents who so far only had eyes for Sally. The church ladies had finished their quick cleanup and left, following Mrs. Badje.
“I already told your pa I’m not interested in doctoring and some of the whys.” Alex stalked past her to Sally’s side, clinging to his anger because it was a strong emotion. He could force the weak cowardice away as long as he was furious. “She’s breathing well.” Alex ran one finger over Sally’s swollen, lumpy face. “Terrible stings. Poor girl.” He saw his hand shaking and pulled back. “Beth, bring your kit around here. Do you have tweezers? Let’s get these stingers out of her.”
Beth extended the tweezers to him.
“You do it.” He barked, just like the yellow dog he was.
The kindness and understanding in her eyes near to killed him. She didn’t argue; she just did it. Alex became the nurse handing her anything she asked for out of her well-equipped doctor’s bag.
Alex had thrown his away somewhere in western New Mexico. He’d run from the army’s demands. That bag, so much a part of him for so long, seemed to burn his hand every time he touched it … the guilt, the failure at deserting.
But the nightmares! He couldn’t face another day of adding to them. One more Indian campaign, always one more. Why couldn’t people live side-by-side without taking up arms? What was the matter with the world? Where was God?
Where are You, God?
Alex knew God hadn’t moved. It was Alex who had gone to a place beyond salvation. He even believed God would forgive him. He was just too ashamed to ask. He too richly deserved any punishment God chose to give.
The quiet lady who’d brought the blankets returned with rags and water, cool in a basin, blazing hot in a bucket. She slipped out again.
Alex took a second to envy the woman her escape, then dipped a cloth into the cool water and began bathing the pretty young woman’s face and hands, hoping the chill would reduce the swelling. “She looks like you,” he whispered to Beth.
Beth looked up from where she worked with her tweezers on the dozens of stingers visible on the girl’s face.
“My little sister Sally. She’s the toughest of the bunch. She drew those bees toward herself to save Buck.” Beth looked at him then shifted her eyes to her hovering parents.
They nodded. “Sally’d do that,” Pa said.
“The swelling isn’t getting worse anymore,” Alex reassured Beth’s family. All he could see was that welling blood where he’d cut a young woman’s throat.
“How long will she need that thing to breathe?” Clay asked.
“A few hours is probably all.” Beth was answering the questions.
Good, Alex was afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he started talking.
“She’ll be able to breathe on her own real soon.” Beth’s hands were steady as iron. Alex heard prayers escape her lips as she tended her sister.
Without making a conscious choice, Alex added his own. As he prayed, the thought invaded that he should go back, face his fate for being a deserter, even if it was a firing squad. The frontier fighting with the Indians had finally stopped, except for isolated incidents. He wouldn’t have to doctor on a battlefield again.
The fact that he never had turned himself in only deepened his self-contempt. But even if he was beyond God’s grace, that didn’t mean God wouldn’t hear a prayer from Alex for someone else, did it?
They worked for an hour or more. Beth with her tweezers, then bathing the throat wound with blazing hot water. Alex with his cold cloths. Mrs. Badje came in repeatedly keeping the water hot and cold.
As Sally continued breathing steadily, Alex noticed Sophie leave quietly then return much later with the parson at her side. “The children needed to know
Sally was doing well.” Sophie took up her place at Beth’s side. Clay stayed at Alex’s left.
The parson shared a quiet prayer with Sophie and Clay. Then the three talked quietly, standing near, ready to help.
Alex heard all of this, but his focus was on the patient and Beth’s steadiness. How could a woman be so calm in the eye of a cyclone? And with her own sister riding that cyclone.
Alex wondered how anyone had the nerve to bring children into this dangerous world. Alex’s prayers for this girl’s healing went up steadily to God.
Beth glanced at him once, which made him aware that he’d been praying audibly. “‘The Lord is my shepherd,’” she began quietly reciting the Twenty-third Psalm.
He knew it well and prayed along. “‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death …’” He’d been too long in the valley of the shadow of death.
“‘Thou anointest my head with oil …’” Their words became unison as Sophie, Clay, and the parson joined in. “‘And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.’”
Just as they finished, Sally’s eyes flickered open. It wasn’t much because they were so swollen, but Alex felt the young woman’s muscles go taut. Leaning close, Alex saw awareness in those barely open eyes.
Alex leaned down and felt a faintest of breaths come easing out from Sally’s lips. “She’s breathing.” Alex looked up at Beth. She smiled and Alex felt as if the sun had come out after a month-long rain. “The swelling has gone down in her throat.”
“Can we close the incision then?” She had strength Alex couldn’t fathom. And somehow he’d found himself able to use it himself. Borrow it, absorb it. Surely that wasn’t possible, but it was the only way Alex could explain what he was capable of, as long as he could look into Beth McClellen’s eyes.
Alex nodded. “I made the incision tiny so hopefully one or two stitches, taken from the outside, will close her trachea. Before I take any stitches, we’ll make sure Sally is breathing well.”
“Good idea.” She smiled then turned to brush Sally’s hair back off her forehead. “You’re all right, Sally. You’re going to be fine. Lie very still.”
“Beth?”
“Yes, honey.”
“I hurt.” Sally’s words were more a movement of her lips than audible, but she did manage to breathe out a whisper of sound, which meant air was now passing through her throat.
Beth looked at her parents. “Come over and talk to her and keep her still.”
They rushed to stand close to Sally’s head and bent so she could make eye contact as Alex removed the tube.
“She’ll be vulnerable to infection and hard to keep still.” Alex couldn’t seem to stop himself from acting like a doctor. Giving instructions and dark warnings. His was the last voice so many had heard, the voice of doom.
“You don’t know the half of keeping her still.” Beth nodded down at her sister, who managed a twisted smile.
“How’s Buck?” The voice, weak and shaky, was further proof Sally was pushing air through her throat.
“Buck’s fine, only a few stings. You saved him, little sister.” Beth smiled and Sally visibly relaxed.
Alex looked at Sally’s concerned but very able parents. Speaking in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, Alex said, “Sophie, Clay, can you help us hold her?”
Sophie braced Sally’s head, but at the same time began talking, distracting her, urging her to be very still. Clay steadied the girl’s shoulders. The parson stood by her feet, ready if needed. Everyone in this room, including the patient, was stronger than Alex.
Alex knew that for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours someone would need to be with Sally every minute. Moving her was out of the question so, for as long as Sally needed help, Alex was the doctor.
Not that Alex hadn’t turned his back on a patient in need before. God forgive him, he’d done it in cold blood.
But not this time. With Beth’s help, Alex could stay—especially if he didn’t sleep. And then once the incision was healing well, without infection—God, please don’t let there be an infection—Alex would go back to his plans to work for Clay. The man would definitely give him a good chance as a cowhand now. Saving a man’s child ought to earn a man some security on his new job.
Just as Alex laid it all out in his mind, the door flew open. Laurie, wild-eyed, burst into the room. “Parson, your wife fell. She’s hurt. She says to bring the doctor. The baby’s coming.”
Alex’s gaze latched onto Beth’s.
“Go.” She gave him a nod of complete confidence. “I can take care of Sally.”
“No. Not without you.”
The parson grabbed Alex’s arm. He hadn’t registered Alex’s words to Beth. “This way, Doc.” He was a slight man, and a man of worship and love, but he had a grip like a mule skinner.
“I—I—Beth, please,” Alex implored her.
Beth’s lips thinned with temper and Alex well remembered how she’d knocked him to his knees just yesterday. Then she swiftly looked at her mother. “Can you keep her still, Ma? This might take both of us.”
“Yes, go if you need to.”
“We’ll be fine,” Pa added.
“Maybe we can bring Mrs. Radcliff back here.” Beth grabbed her doctor’s bag, rushed around the counter serving as Sally’s hospital bed, and was at Alex’s side as they ran out.
Parson Radcliff let go of Alex’s arm and sprinted toward his house. Alex did his best to keep up. A few heads poked out of upper windows along the street, Mosqueros residents who had heard Laurie hollering as she ran to get help.
Alex couldn’t believe it. His second patient in one day. Bitterly, he wondered how he was ever going to convince these people that he wasn’t a doctor.
Twelve
As she ran, Beth thanked God Alex was a doctor.
Standing helplessly beside Sally had brought it home clearly to Beth that she wasn’t one. She had the potential and she would be able to help a lot of hurting people, but she didn’t really have the training she needed. And Alex did. And he had years of experience after schooling. He’d hated it, but he’d learned what he needed to know.
He had the skill; she had the nerve. Together, they made a great team.
They raced down the Mosqueros street toward their next patient. Beth felt Alex slowing, and, worried that he might duck down an alley and run the wrong way, she caught his hand and hoped he thought she was trying to impart courage when in fact she was taking him prisoner.
Parson Radcliff whipped around a corner. Beth remembered the tidy house the Roscoes had lived in. As they turned the corner, Beth saw Adam outside surrounded by crying children. Tillie must have stayed in with Mrs. Radcliff, leaving Adam to care for the three McClellen boys, Radcliff’s toddler, as well as Adam’s own three children, two older boys and a little girl nearly school-aged.
Adam looked overwhelmed. Well, he wasn’t the only one.
Parson Radcliff slammed through the door and they heard his frantic voice.
Beth followed, still hanging on tight to Alex who, in fairness, had made no escape attempt. Exchanging one worried look with Adam, Beth left him to his fate, kept hold of Alex, and ran inside.
“It happened so fast. Little Andrew knocked his milk over.” Tillie referred to the Radcliff’s toddler.
Beth was relieved one of her rambunctious little brothers hadn’t taken the poor woman out.
“Then Mrs. Radcliff slipped and fell so hard.” Tillie shook her head.
That was all the time Beth gave her. The sobbing coming from the back room had her towing Alex along.
Laurie darted up and whispered as if she didn’t want to say the words out loud. “I think she broke her leg, the poor woman.”
Beth nodded. “Adam looks overwhelmed. Go see if you need to save him.”
Laurie rushed out as Beth hurried after Alex to find him hanging back as he listened to the poor woman.
Tillie followed them into the room, and when Beth glanced at Tillie, the older wom
an’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Alex and Beth.
Beth wondered what she saw. Probably the truth. Alex—for all his skill at doctoring—appeared to be the slightest bit insane. Beth caught the sleeve of his blue shirt, thinking she recognized a stain on the back of the shoulder. This was Pa’s shirt.
Once she was there, lending support, or rather pushing Alex around, he gathered his nerve and switched from lunatic to doctor. Beth would be able to write a medical textbook based on her dealings with poor, wounded mental patient, Dr. Buchanan.
She set her bag on a table beside the bed. “Tillie, will you get some bandages out of that bag and …” Beth listed the things she thought necessary.
Tillie opened the bag. She set a small container beside the table. “Is this what you needed?”
Beth saw the Dover’s Powder and flinched. “No. Good heavens, no, Tillie.”
“Then why do you have it in your bag?”
“It’s got many uses. It’s a good painkiller. But you have to give it very carefully. Even a small overdose will make you cast up everything in your belly and it can last for day and days. Put it away.”
A furrow cut through Tillie’s brow and she turned back to the bag.
Alex finally entered the fray. He gently but firmly shouldered the parson aside from his place, opposite the bed from Beth. “Mrs.—” Alex gave Beth a wild look.
“Radcliff,” Beth supplied.
Alex nodded. “Mrs. Radcliff, please calm down and let’s see what’s happened.”
That voice. It was like a musical instrument. Beth felt her own calm deepening and spreading. Her impatience with Dr. Crazy eased.
Alex asked questions as he ran his hands down the poor woman’s leg. He reached her ankle, and Mrs. Radcliff’s indrawn breath was nearly a scream. His shoulders sagging, Alex kept examining the area until finally he said, “I hope it’s just a bad sprain.”
Beth saw the badly swollen ankle. She knew a bad sprain and a break had to be treated very much the same. But a sprain was much less upsetting, and keeping Mrs. Radcliff calm right now was—
Sophie's Daughters Trilogy Page 8