Sawbones

by Melissa Lenhardt

  Though their paths took them to separate parts of the state after graduation—Matthew to opening a struggling practice in New York City, Ezra staying on at Syracuse Medical College as a junior professor and researcher—they were in constant contact through letters and regular holiday visits. Each stood up for the other at their weddings, and Ezra offered much-needed solace to his old friend at the death of my mother. Before being sent to England at twelve to live with my father’s sister and her family, I spent weeks at a time in Syracuse visiting Ezra, his wife, Dorothy, and their son James. Ezra, though always reserved about my desire to become a doctor, was instrumental in my acceptance to Syracuse Medical College.

  The emotions of the past weeks rushed out of me in a torrent of tears. Ezra moved a chair into the corner of the office and gently led me to it. I sat and gave in to my flooding emotions in a way that would have embarrassed the most volatile of Gothic heroines.

  “There, there.” Ezra handed me a clean, soft bandanna. “Dry your tears.” He patted me on the shoulder and returned to his chair to wait.

  He did not have to wait long. Now that I had someone to confide in, to explain everything to, the need to get my story out, to justify the decisions I made, was overpowering.

  “I don’t know where to start.”

  “At the beginning would be good.”

  I told him everything, from James’s assistance in leaving New York, to Salt Creek, to Sherman giving me command of the hospital.

  “You left out the most interesting part,” Ezra said.

  “What?”

  “Operating on Captain Kindle.”

  “Oh.”

  “News of your deed has reached Fort Sill. Most like it has made the Eastern papers as well.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “Which means it’s only a matter of time before someone wonders who this female doctor is.”

  Ezra nodded.

  “Well, now you are here I can move on.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “I shrugged. Far from Indians, I can assure you.” I paused. “Have you heard from James?”

  “He sent me a letter not long after you left New York.”

  “And? Did he say anything about the dead woman?”

  “Yes. He said it was you.” When I didn’t respond, Ezra continued. “Imagine my shock when I saw you.”

  “Why would he lie to you?”

  Ezra’s normally benign demeanor hardened for a moment. A sad smile softened his expression and he said, “James and I haven’t had the best relationship since Dorothy died. I am not surprised he kept me in the dark.”

  “So you don’t know who the woman was?”

  “No. But, it ended the story. There were a couple of follow-up stories in the Saint Louis paper about you; then it died.”

  “What were the stories?”

  “It’s not important, Catherine.”

  “What were the stories, Ezra?”

  He didn’t look at me as he talked. “They painted a picture of you as a harlot. Having affairs with multiple married men. Patients’ husbands. Other doctors.”

  I paced the office, twisting my hands and trying not to cry. Why would Beatrice Langton assassinate my character? To what end? “That woman is despicable. You don’t believe a word.” When he didn’t respond, I added, “Do you?”

  “No, though running away made it easy for people to come forward and slander you.”

  I stopped in front of Ezra. My stomach felt weighted with stones. “Who else?”

  “Other doctors speaking on your arrogance. Prostitutes defending you. A resurrection man.”

  I closed my eyes and inhaled. “Jonasz Golik.”

  “Yes. I heard you were a longtime customer for him and paid well.”

  I exhaled and opened my eyes. “Only because he threatened me.”

  Ezra shrugged. “It was the nail in your coffin. The prostitutes didn’t help.”

  I resumed pacing and thought of Molly Ebling. It had been almost six weeks since I had seen her in Galveston. Had it only been weeks? It seemed another lifetime. She was most likely back in New York City with the knowledge I was alive. How long until the brave doctor in Texas would be connected to Catherine Bennett? How long until the man who sent me the bloody poster decided to expose me, or worse yet, abduct me and take me back East?

  I stared out the office window at the fort. A wagon full of soldiers sitting atop a stack of pickets rolled past the hospital, bound for the newest enlisted men’s quarters under construction on the edge of the parade ground. They looked dirty and exhausted. One man had a crude bandage wrapped around his arm. I thought of Kindle. Was he keeping his bandages clean?

  I pressed my hand against my abdomen. There was no question about staying or going now; I needed to leave before Kindle returned. I couldn’t bear to see his expression when he heard of this Catherine Bennett, the harlot.

  “What are you going to do?” Ezra’s voice was quiet.

  I sighed. “Leave as soon as possible. I cannot go back to New York. There is no question I must leave Fort Richardson.”

  “I gleaned Foster doesn’t like you from five minutes with the man, though he is impressed with what you’ve done with the outbreak. I could persuade him to keep you on here as a civilian surgeon as long as I promise to keep you in line.”

  “As much as I love you, Ezra, not even you could do the latter. It is only a matter of time before bounty hunters realize who I am. And I do not like it here. It is too open, exposed. There are Indians everywhere.” As I spoke, my resolve to leave hardened, and I felt better. “I have not felt safe since. As much as I would like to stay with you, I cannot. Foster has promised to let me travel with the first patrol heading to Fort Sill. From there I will take a train west.”

  Alone.

  I pushed away the fear that realization engendered. I was intelligent, resourceful, and with a profession that would keep me from becoming destitute. There were prostitutes and pregnant women everywhere. I would survive.

  Ezra stood. “I am sorry about Maureen.”

  My throat closed, rendering speech impossible. I nodded and tried to smile and waited for the mild chastisement for bringing Maureen west I had expected. I was relieved when it did not come. With Kindle gone, the dysentery outbreak, and Ezra’s familiar presence, I knew my emotions would vent at the slightest provocation. I’d cried enough for one day.

  He patted me on the shoulder fondly. “Come, give me a tour of my new hospital.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The next week was a whirlwind of activity. Payroll and a full supply train had accompanied Ezra from Fort Sill, replenishing medicines to the hospital stores as well as drunkards to the hospital ward. Every day more tents appeared on the outer edge of the parade ground as regiments gathered at Fort Richardson to disperse to various parts of the plains in search of the Comanche and Kiowa raiders. The dysentery tent slowly emptied as men got past the worst of the disease.

  With the fort filling up with soldiers and the number of beds for men and officers dwindling under the demand, Foster requested I move to a hotel in Jacksboro to make space. It was a relief to move out of the house where I thought of Kindle constantly. I gave only a passing thought to the promise I had made the night before he left.

  With the worst of the dysentery outbreak over, Foster decided a celebration was in order. He ordered two of the cattle from my wagon train and a pig from the fort’s herd to be slaughtered for the soldiers’ celebration and Harriet organized the dinner party for the officers and their wives she and Foster had been planning when the outbreak started.

  I was flattered, somewhat humbled, and surprised at being included among the guests. Since Ezra’s arrival, I saw little of anyone outside of the hospital and quarantine tent, restricting myself to solitary walks to and from my lodgings in town and assisting Ezra in whatever way necessary to make his settlement at Fort Richardson smooth. I supposed the distance I kept from Foster and Harriet had the beneficial effect of lessening
their perception of my many faults and sins. What else, besides Ezra’s intervention on my behalf, could account for the inclusion in their number of someone so likely to disrupt an otherwise jolly dinner party?

  As modest as the dinner party would be considering the location, I was giddy with excitement at the idea of forgetting we were so far removed from civilization for a few hours. I also realized this could be the last time for a good while, if not ever, I would have the opportunity to relive scenes from my youth in England. I was quite determined to be on my best behavior, for my enjoyment as well as my dinner companions’.

  It would also give me an opportunity to wear the gown Camille had packed for me when leaving New York. As useless as it was on the frontier, I could not bring myself to discard it and the silk gown doggedly traveled with me across Texas, crushed beneath the weight of my more serviceable dresses. I was admiring my reflection in the mirror and how the sky-blue silk brought out my eyes when a knock at my door alerted me Ezra had come to escort me to the fort. I settled my mother’s sapphire and pearl necklace—the last and most valuable of her jewelry—around my neck, patted my hair, and preened. I turned serious and chastised myself. “Behave.”

  My step faltered at the top of the stairs. Kindle, in full dress uniform, stood next to the front desk, staring into the dining room opposite. He fairly took my breath away. My joy at seeing him, at the realization he was returned safely from his patrol, was overcome quickly by irritation. He was scowling, as if escorting me was the last thing he wanted to do. His expression checked my step for only a moment before my back stiffened and I descended the stairs.

  “You’ve returned.”

  He frowned over my shoulder at someone in the dining room. When he finally deigned to look at me he said, “You moved into town even though I told you not to.”

  I prickled. Maybe our parting wouldn’t be as difficult as I thought. “On Foster’s demand. Take it up with him.”

  He gave me his arm and led me from the hotel to the wagon. When I was settled he leapt into the driver’s position and snapped the whip at the horse. The startled horse jumped forward and took off at a brisk trot.

  We rode in uncomfortable, formal silence. I had imagined many variations of our possible reunion, but nothing like this. The man next to me seemed like a stranger. Had I dreamed the interlude in the hospital?

  The stars were the only light from the clear sky but hardly provided enough light to see the road. I gripped the seat as the horse barreled through the night, hitting every hole in the road on the way.

  “Would you mind slowing down, please? It is much too dark to be driving in this way.”

  “This horse is familiar with the road.”

  The wagon jumped as we hit a deep hole, almost bouncing me from the seat. I grabbed at his arm. “Really, Kindle. Are you trying to throw me out of the wagon?”

  “Don’t be absurd,” he replied, but he slowed the horse to a slow trot.

  I straightened myself and moved as far away from Kindle as possible. “I don’t know why you agreed to drive me if you were determined to be as unpleasant as possible. Or was that the point?”

  My spirits fell when he didn’t answer. I wanted nothing more than to return to the hotel. The prospect of engaging strangers in polite, pointless conversation for hours, so recently an appealing idea, became unbearable. This dinner party would be the last opportunity I had to enjoy Kindle’s companionship. Soon, I would leave for Fort Sill and never see him again. If he was going to be hostile toward me the entire night, I would rather return to the hotel and spend it by myself.

  He steered the wagon onto the road behind the hospital and slowed the horse to a walk. I heard the rushing water of Lost Creek to my right.

  “Being rude to you was not the point,” Kindle said. “I apologize.”

  The grip of pain around my heart lessened a little. “Is something the matter? How do you feel?”

  “Fine.”

  Through the darkness his profile was just visible. I reached out and lay my hand on his arm. “Kindle, what’s the matter?”

  His jaw muscle clenched and he pulled the wagon to a stop. He shifted in the seat until he faced me. “I saw a man in the hotel who looked like someone I used to know.”

  “Who?”

  He inhaled. “My dead brother.”

  “Well, that’s wonderful, isn’t it? Why didn’t you talk to him?”

  Kindle shook his head. “It isn’t wonderful. If it was him, and I’m not entirely sure it was, he’s after me.”

  “Because of his wife?”

  Kindle nodded. “Among other things. You have to stay at the fort tonight.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I—” He shook his head, as if rejecting an idea too absurd to be valid.

  “If you’re worried about my safety, don’t be.” I leaned forward and whispered dramatically. “There is a lock on my door.”

  A small smile played on his lips as he studied me. “I’ve missed you.”

  I removed my hand from his arm and tried to give my voice lightness my heart didn’t share. The armor I’d built up around my soul during Kindle’s absence was weakening, and to what purpose? In two days I would be gone. “You’ve missed my nagging you about your health?”

  “Among other things.” My mind went straight to the last night we were together, and unless I was much mistaken, so did Kindle’s.

  I kept my voice light. “At least you are not angry with me. You looked quite frightening in the hotel.”

  His eyes softened. “I could never be angry with you.”

  “Give me time. I infuriate everyone, eventually.”

  He laughed and clicked to the horses. The wagon lurched forward and we drove to the front of a large tent on the edge of the parade ground near the officers’ quarters. A private who looked at my bare chest with appreciation assisted me down. When he saw me watching him, he blushed. I grinned archly at him and walked around the gig to take Kindle’s arm, his admiration showing clearly in his expression. I thought of Maureen and how she would disapprove at all of the appreciation being shown me.

  It’ll give you the big head. Lord knows your ego is large enough.

  The pain at her loss was still there, would not leave for years, most like. But, there was happiness at the remembrance as well.

  Kindle’s gaze traveled from my sapphire and pearl necklace to my face. Unlike the private, he did not blush, but his expression spoke volumes. Before entering, he leaned over and whispered in my ear. “You look ravishing.”

  My breath caught. I could not have checked my flush of pleasure if I tried.

  * * *

  It was a few moments before I realized conversation stopped on our arrival. My smile wavered and died under the scrutiny of ten pairs of eyes, all in various degrees of surprise or disapprobation. Harriet turned away from us and resumed her conversation with Lieutenant Strong and Alice. Ezra stood with an older civilian couple, his hands behind his back and his head slightly bent, trying to hide his amusement. The couple looked upon me with more curiosity than condemnation, which, along with Ezra’s comforting presence, was all the recommendation the strangers needed. I moved to meet them with a tremulous smile as embarrassment warred with the elation of Kindle’s compliment and the dread at my removal from him two days hence.

  “Dr. Kline. I was disappointed when you did not turn up to escort me from town.” The woman quietly cleared her throat and though I never took my eyes from Ezra, I could sense from the edge of my vision the couple exchanging an amused, knowing glance.

  “You know what a poor carriage driver I am. I doubted you wanted to walk the half mile in your gown.”

  “A doctor afraid of carriages is a singular quirk,” the woman said. “How ever do you make calls?”

  “A benefit of being in the Army. The patients come to you, and if they do not, someone else always drives. Dr. Elliston, I would like to introduce you to Jacksboro’s Mayor Stephen Carter and his wife, Edna.”

&
nbsp; “It is a pleasure to meet you,” I said.

  As I would find out in my short acquaintance with them, Stephen and Edna Carter were unique in many ways, not the least of which being their stature. Edna stood over six feet tall and Stephen barely came up to her shoulder. Everything about them was outsized, from their disproportionate stature to their gregarious personalities to their infectious laughs.

  “It is our pleasure, Doctor,” Edna Carter said. “Dr. Kline has been singing your praises since we arrived, hasn’t he, Stephen?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Says you are one of the best surgeons he has ever seen.”

  Ezra’s head was bent down as if in thought. I could see the lingering ghost of a smile on his lips. “Has he?”

  “Yes. He says he could not have done as good a job managing the dysentery outbreak or operating on Captain Kindle as you did, and under the circumstances! In the middle of a thunderstorm!”

  “It was before.”

  “I’m not sure I truck with the notion of a woman doctor, but Dr. Kline assures us you have the appropriate professional frame of mind to treat any patient, man or woman.”

  “What a long conversation you must have had already. I didn’t realize I was so late.”

  Harriet Mackenzie walked up to our little group and interjected. “I can vouch for her management of the quarantine. No man could have done it better.”

  “Thank you, Harriet,” I said, in genuine astonishment. I hadn’t forgotten my promise to tell her everything and wondered when she would force the issue. I hoped it wouldn’t be tonight.

  “Hello there, Miss Mackenzie,” Edna said. “Lovely party you’ve thrown together.”

  Harriet bowed her head in modest acceptance of the compliment. “Yes, Harriet,” I said. “It is lovely.”

  It was. The large rectangular tent was supported by two hefty wooden columns, between which a long table was formally set for sixteen with china, silver, and crystal. Standard Army- issue oil lamps, disguised with strategically placed boughs of the native Texas sage that grew in profusion around the fort, alternated down the length of the table with small bottles of fresh wildflowers. My gaze lingered on the wildflowers as memories of the massacre flashed through my mind. Amos’s screams as his flesh burned ricocheted in my head. I closed my eyes against Maureen’s gaping jaw.