Sophie's Daughters Trilogy

by Mary Connealy

  “Forceps,” Alex ordered. “Bullet’s still in there.”

  “That’s good, Pa.” Beth slapped the instrument into Alex’s hand.

  “Beth, I’ve got to keep pressure on his back while I take the bullet out from the front. Get on this side with me. He’s losing too much blood.”

  Beth nearly threw herself around to the other side of her poor pa.

  Alex, his hand soaked in raging scarlet, took her hands and guided them beneath Pa’s shoulder. “Press up hard. Plug that hole. As soon as the bullet’s out, I can sew him up.” Alex dug.

  Pa lay still, silent, his face twisted in pain, his teeth gritted, his face sallow, letting Alex jab at his wound.

  At last a dull scratch of metal on metal told Beth Alex had found the bullet. With a sickening scrape, he got hold of it and dragged the ugly bit of lead free.

  Beth pressed on Pa’s back, the entrance wound, with all of her might. She’d have lifted him if Pa hadn’t worked with her to keep his shoulder firmly against her fingers. She nearly cried out in grief to think of how badly she was hurting him.

  A sudden burst of rifle fire startled her. Then Ma returned fire—slow and steady she shredded an area directly in front of the boulder, without exposing herself. Ma lay down a field of fire, to the left and right of where the shots had come.

  The bounty hunter’s rifle fire ended.

  “I’ve got to get over there,” Pa spoke between his teeth, a deep groan escaping as he struggled to sit up. Beth noticed Pa pushed with his left hand but not his right. It wasn’t working since he’d been hit.

  “Sophie,” Alex’s voice was all doctor now. All authority.

  Sophie quit shooting. “What?”

  “Tell your husband to lie still if he wants to live.”

  “Clay!” Ma’s voice must have penetrated Pa’s fierce determination to protect his family. “I’m all right. I’ll tell you if I need help. Now let Alex patch you up.”

  Pa’s eyes met Ma’s, and they communicated so much in that one look. Love and respect and fear and rage. All mixed up with deadly determination not to let this man do them any more harm.

  Beth had never loved her parents more than she did at this very instant.

  Pa subsided.

  Alex worked so fast Beth could hardly follow his movements. He poured carbolic acid on Pa’s wound and began sewing, cutting off the flow of blood. “I don’t think he got a lung or an artery. It looks like his collarbone is broken.”

  Alex finished with motions so swift and sure that Beth could imagine him on a battlefield, racing from one wounded soldier to the next. Dispensing life in the midst of death.

  “Clay, we need to roll you over and close the hole in your back.” Alex spoke slowly, his voice low so as not to give information to their enemy, but clear to get past the agony.

  “Beth, now, help me.” Alex’s voice was rock solid but his face was utterly colorless, and after he spoke, he clenched his jaw so tightly she was afraid he might break his teeth.

  Beth hated every second of treating her pa. She thanked God fervently that Alex was here for this because causing Pa pain, even if she knew it was absolutely necessary, nearly sent her into fits.

  They got Pa onto his belly and Alex dosed the wound with the sterilizing liquid then attacked it as if he had a hundred patients waiting, all screaming for help.

  Beth had a clear view of how it was for Alex during war. The relentless pressure. The bleeding and dying. The cries of pain. The stench of death. All surrounded him as he fought for life in the midst of it.

  She’d have run away, too. Now she knew she would never have stood it. She loved Alex more fiercely than ever and she vowed to God that she’d do everything in her power to protect him from whatever punishment the cavalry had in store, even if she had to write to the president of the United States.

  The rifle fire began again, higher this time, so shattered fragments of rock blasted down on them. The gunman thought he’d found a way to force them out of their hiding place.

  “Cover his wound, Beth. Don’t let anything fall into it.” Alex took the last few stitches, and quickly, as if he was working under threat of his own death, he pulled bandages from the doctor’s bag.

  Beth had hung them over her shoulders to dry during the day and she prayed now they hadn’t become so dirty during the time they were in the air that they’d poison Pa’s wound and bring on an infection.

  Alex surprised her by soaking a pad of the bandage with the carbolic acid. Then he pressed it against Pa’s injury and used more bandage, this time left dry, to fasten the bandage in place.

  The rifle fire continued, deafening. The shards of rock rained down.

  Ma returned fire with her Colt. The smoke and smell of the fired rounds made Beth wonder how much ammunition they had with them. She hoped it didn’t come down to the stuff she’d hauled through floodwater today.

  Splintering rock and shredded leaves, cut from overhead by their assailant’s bullets, rained down on them.

  “Get him on his back again. I didn’t bandage the exit wound yet.” He’d been in too big a hurry to close the back wound.

  Beth helped, feeling her hands tremble as she shoved her father around like a … like a … a patient. She’d helped with Sally, but Alex hadn’t needed her this desperately. He’d only needed her presence to give him strength. Now they had four medical hands working as hard and fast as they knew how, fighting for Pa’s life.

  The gunfire stopped. A heavy grunt sounded from beyond their fortressed position.

  “I think I got him.” Ma sounded grim and angry. There was no pleasure for her in shooting a person, no matter how evil that man.

  Alex poured on more of the sterilizing carbolic acid.

  Beth silently thanked God for Dr. Lister’s brilliant invention. A wound could turn septic so easily. She asked for divine help in the healing of her beloved pa.

  Alex quickly finished the bandaging then looked up at her, his stern doctor demeanor only for show. She saw beneath it to something so fragile that Beth was afraid he might splinter into pieces right in front of Beth’s eyes. With a hard jerk of his chin that didn’t reach his eyes, he said, “Okay, go help your ma. I just need to watch and make sure the bleeding has stopped.”

  Alex’s hands were coated in blood. It had gotten on his disheveled white shirt, and his pants were sticky and crimson.

  Beth saw those hands start to shake.

  Alex wiped sweat off his forehead and smeared blood across his face without realizing it.

  Beth was afraid if he knew he’d fall apart. She said, “Alex!”

  He looked at her. She let her eyes connect with his. She saw the awareness in him that he hadn’t clung to her, not for strength. They hadn’t had that sharing Alex had relied on at first. He’d done this on his own. But now he drew from her. She felt him calm as their eyes held.

  His voice sounded steady when he finally spoke. “We’re done here. Your ma needs you more. Doesn’t she, Clay?” Alex looked down at his patient.

  “Yes.” Clay’s voice was barely a whisper. “Go, honey. Alex and I will be fine.”

  Beth’s eyes went back to Alex’s and he gave her an encouraging nod. “Go. I’m all right.”

  She felt as if her flesh tore when she turned away from Alex. It was possible she needed him as much as he needed her. She crawled to Ma’s side.

  Ma shoved Pa’s rifle in Beth’s hands. There was an ammunition belt on the ground in front of them. Ma looked at her and gave her a little smile. “We’ve fought bad men before together, Beth honey. Fought ’em and won.”

  Beth returned the smile, looked down at her father’s blood all over her own hands and clothes, and felt her heart harden for the task ahead. “And we’ll win again this time, won’t we, Ma?”

  There was a loud groan from about a hundred feet away.

  One blond brow arched on her ma’s confident face. “Maybe I’ve already finished the job.”

  Beth took a quick glance
in the direction of that sound, then leaned close to her mother and whispered quiet, so no man would hear. “I’m glad you’re my ma.”

  With a quick jerk of her chin, Ma whispered, “I’m glad you’re my daughter, Beth. Now let’s snake out of here. I’ll go right, you go left.”

  “Pa ordered us to stay under cover.” But that was before the dry-gulcher was down.

  “Your pa always was one for giving orders.” Ma smiled.

  Beth smiled back.

  “That coyote is hurt, but he’s not dead,” Ma added. “So we’ve got to go careful. You’re the best there is at ghostin’ around, girl.”

  Beth eased down on her belly. She took one quick look at Alex and Pa.

  Alex had moved around so he had his back to them. Pa had let his eyes fall closed, which wasn’t like him.

  She braced herself to move out of the sheltering rock. Hoping she was up to the task ahead, she prayed, “Give me strength, Lord. Give me strength.”

  As she moved forward, she saw her ma vanish around the other side of the rock whispering, “Help me. Help me. Help me.”

  Beth scooted along quiet as a sliding snake. She rounded the sheltering boulders and headed in the direction of the shrubs where the man lay groaning in pain. She headed for the man’s feet.

  Her ma would be coming from where it sounded as if his head rested. They both slipped along, using every bit of cover in case the man was up to caring that they were coming for him.

  Beth got to the edge of the bushes and saw the man’s boots twitching. He was making plenty of noise now so he must be beyond caution. Beth got her gun leveled in front of her, mindful of where Ma would emerge from the bushes. She inched in until she could see the man’s legs, then his belly. Her gun held steady and she saw up to the bounty hunter’s arms, which were holding a gun aimed straight at Ma.

  “Hey!” Beth shouted, drawing the man’s attention.

  His gun swung around. Ma slid out of the bushes and swung her gun hard at the man’s head. It hit with a thud. The bounty hunter dropped back unconscious, but a spasm made his gun go off.

  “Look out!” Ma yelled.

  Beth heard a crack from overhead, where the bullet had hit. She threw herself sideways, hoping to pick right. She had no idea which way to dive. She rolled onto her back and saw a heavy branch plunging toward her like a spear.

  The impact was the last thing she saw before the world went black.

  Twenty – seven

  Alex, get over here!”

  Alex heard the shot and was moving before Sophie shouted at him. And why was Sophie’s the only voice he heard? He had time to die a thousand deaths in the seconds it took to reach Beth, who lay crushed under a huge, dead tree limb.

  Sophie was already at Beth’s side. “Grab the other end. This fell when the gun went off.”

  Alex lifted on his end and he and Sophie staggered under the weight, edging it away from Beth then throwing it to the side.

  “What’s going on!” Clay’s voice was furious.

  It sounded to Alex like he was getting up. “You’ve got to go to him.” He used his doctor voice on Sophie and even she minded him. “Keep him still. If he starts bleeding again we could lose him.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Sophie rushed away.

  Alex turned to Beth and saw blood. Crimson rushing blood. Then there were two of her, then one, then three. Alex sank to his knees beside her.

  Stay here. Stay here. Keep me here, God.

  Alex knew where else he was likely to go. Where he went every time he doctored, unless Beth was at his side. His mind went to war.

  God, keep me here. Give me the strength to help her.

  His vision faded and widened but Alex fought it. Brought himself back to Beth. He fumbled at her neck until he found a heartbeat. Strong, steady. Her neck was already soaked in blood but Alex found no injuries to her neck’s arteries that would drain the life out of her in seconds, with nothing he could do to stop it.

  Alex heard distant explosions. Cannon fire. Thundering horses’ hooves on a battlefield. His hands were coated in blood, blood that had left the soldier’s body, taking his life along with it.

  Fighting the madness, he dragged himself back to Beth, ripped his shirt off and wadded it up and found the worst source of the bleeding. “Head wound.” The sound of his own voice steadied him a bit. Maybe if he kept speaking aloud. “Head wounds bleed. That doesn’t always mean they’re serious.”

  Where was Beth’s doctor’s bag? The wounds needed to be sutured. If only all he needed to do was put in stitches, maybe he could stand it. But what else was hurt? Her spine? Her brain? Were there broken bones? Was she busted up inside? Alex tried to check while he staunched the blood.

  He needed help. He needed his faithful nurse and assistant and fellow doctor. He needed his wife.

  “Beth, honey, please stay with me.” Alex pressed on two freely bleeding wounds, one on her jawline, one on her temple, and worried about an injury to her backbone. If she woke up, if she could talk to him while he cared for her …

  Please, God, please. Let her be all right. Give me the strength to care for her. Give me strength. Give me strength.

  For a moment he heard Beth’s voice praying that prayer. Almost like God had sent her to be with him, even when she was asleep. The blood lived and grew. He put the pressure on the wounds again. Still the blood seemed to gush and grow and fight. It soaked into Alex’s bunched-up shirt, then crawled up his arms and leapt at his body.

  Shaking his head to keep it clear, Alex held fast on the mean gash on Beth’s temple and the other on her chin. An awful, scarring cut on her beautiful face. Alex used both hands, trying to attend both wounds at once. He noticed blood trickle down from the corner of her mouth. From that cut on her chin? Or was she bleeding in her mouth or had she been crushed inside, her lungs or her heart? If that had happened she’d die. There was nothing he knew that would save her.

  Seconds ticked past. Alex raised his crimson shirt away from the gash on her chin, hoping the bleeding had stopped. Blood trickled still.

  His vision blurred and focused on a cavalryman. He reached for the wounded man. A horse screamed in pain. A cannon blasted. Dirt and shrapnel pummeled Alex’s body, knocking him forward over the wounded, dying soldier’s form as the man fumbled at the wound in his stomach, pushing to get his intestines back inside his belly. Alex reached for his doctor’s bag and saw it covered in gore.

  A sudden blow snapped Alex’s head around and he stared into the furious face of his mother-in-law.

  “Help her.” Sophie nearly peeled his eardrums away with her harsh order. She raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face. “Get busy and help her.”

  Alex suddenly realized where his wife had learned her bedside manner. Staring at Sophie, he braced himself to get slugged again and realized that the strength he’d drawn from Beth was in this woman, too. She seemed to know. Rather than draw back her hand she let him look, let him steady himself by using her courage when he had none of his own. It was enough for the world to come fully back.

  “Y–yes, ma’am.” Alex turned back to Beth. He’d stopped working on her head wounds, let the shirt slip from his hands. She was coated in blood.

  “Don’t you have something else to do to my daughter besides try to stop a bleeding cut?”

  Alex felt like a mother mountain lion had just roared in his face.

  Sophie snatched the shirt from Alex and pressed on the wounds herself. “Is that all that’s wrong with her?”

  “I don’t s–see any other injuries. Nothing external.” Alex shook his head almost violently. “She needs stitches to stop this bleeding. M–my bag.”

  “Go get it yourself. I’ll stay with her. And tell Clay to lay still or I’ll hog-tie him.”

  Alex knew well that he faced a will far stronger than his own. If possible, a will even stronger than Beth’s. He scrambled to his feet and stumbled forward, then lurched toward the boulder that hid his wounded father-i
n-law.

  Cold blue eyes waited for him around that boulder. “How’s Beth?”

  “I need to put some stitches in. I think … I hope she’s just knocked out from a tree branch falling on her.” Alex remembered that trickle of blood coming from the corner of Beth’s mouth. “Stay here. I can’t doctor two people at once so don’t do anything to tear those stitches. Your wife is helping me.”

  Clay seemed willing to drill holes in Alex’s brain with his fiery blue gaze. That spurred Alex to hurry just so he could get back to yet another McClellen who was willing to do him damage if he didn’t stay clearheaded. Alex decided being terrorized worked surprisingly well in this case to keep him focused.

  Grabbing Beth’s doctor’s bag, which they’d been struggling to dry out all day, he rushed back to his wife, lying soaked in blood, her skin pure white against the sticky crimson flow.

  Alex had a needle ready in seconds. Trying to detach from what lay ahead, piercing his wife’s lovely skin to put in the barbaric sutures, he pushed, rushed along, letting his hands work and trying to keep his addled brain out of it. Going for the worse of her wounds first, Alex snapped, “Move the rag and hold the edges of this wound closed.”

  He barely heard the dictatorial tone of his voice but knew it for the take-charge doctor voice he was fully capable of using. Being knocked on his backside was one possible reaction to his dictatorial voice.

  It didn’t happen. Instead she obeyed all his instructions and proved to be an able assistant. She lacked Beth’s finesse, but the woman had steady hands. Alex wasn’t much surprised.

  It took ten stitches to close up the gash on Beth’s forehead. It ran along her hairline. There’d be a scar, but her hair would cover it.

  Sophie had kept steady pressure on Beth’s chin while she minded Alex’s orders about the cut he was suturing.

  Alex glanced up at Sophie. “We’ll do her chin now.”

  “Ready.” She nodded and smiled. That strength was still there; Alex didn’t even have to look in Sophie’s eyes to feel it steady him.

  “You’re a good doctor, Alex. I hope the day will come when you can trust yourself again.”