“It sounds risky.”
The doctor nodded grimly. “It’s much too risky for me to try. Actually, I couldn’t if I wanted to because I’m not equipped for such a procedure. Aside from the scalpel, I’d need a tenaculum, two aneurysm needles to use as retractors, a pair of artery forceps, on and on, and of course the tubing. I simply don’t have all that equipment.”
It was useless to ask, but in the interest of exhausting all possibilities, she’d ask anyway. “Is there a doctor around here who could perform it?”
“Actually, there is. Doctor Grover Scott has a clinic over in Hangtown. He’s done a few tracheotomies, and successfully, I might add.” He frowned in thought. “But the problem is, Hangtown is a four-hour drive from here. Maybe more, if the weather’s bad. I don’t know if the child could endure having to travel twenty miles over a rough road. Better to take her home. Use the steam…”
“Doctor, help!” came a man’s desperate call from the other side of the room.
“Must go,” Doc Hansen muttered. Shoulders slumped, he wearily turned away and left them standing.
They returned to Maryanne. As Laurie sank beside her, a wave of hopelessness nearly overcame her. She looked up at Darcy. “We may as well take her home. Try the steam. Maybe…” She was going to say, “Maybe the steam will help,” but choked on the words. No sense deluding herself. Nothing was going to help. Her precious little niece was fighting for her life and could very well lose the battle.
Darcy knelt beside her. “Let’s take her home,” he said quietly.
“I feel so helpless.”
“I know. We’ll try the steam.”
His calm presence gave her strength. Saying she felt helpless made her look weak and inadequate, and she would not say it again. “Yes, we’ll try the steam. Let’s hurry and get her home.”
Chapter 9
By the time they reached the house, and Darcy had carried Maryanne to her bed, Laurie knew the doctor’s advice wouldn’t work. Maryanne was so sick that draping a towel over her head, making her breathe hot steam, would not only have been cruel, it wouldn’t have helped. By now her neck had swollen so much she was hardly recognizable. She breathed with increasing difficulty, sometimes gasping for every breath. Laurie, Mother, and Ada hovered over her bed. “It’s like she’s choking to death,” Ada cried.
“She’s getting worse, our poor little girl.” Elizabeth sank to a chair beside the bed and dropped her face in her hands. “I can hardly bear it.”
Darcy had stood by watching but not intruding. “She needs the tracheotomy, Mrs. Sinclair. It could be her only chance.”
“She needs a what?” Ada asked.
Using the doctor’s words, he explained what a tracheotomy was. As he spoke, both Mother and Ada grew wide eyed. “Cut her throat open?” Mother asked in an incredulous voice. “Mr. McKenna, are you out of your mind?”
Laurie gazed at Darcy in surprise. “Not for a moment did I take the doctor seriously. The whole idea of a trach…trach…whatever it’s called is just too horrifying. Besides that, you heard what he said. We’d have to go to that doctor in Hangtown, and that’s much too far.”
“No, it’s not. The road’s not bad. I could get us there in give or take four hours.” Darcy had chosen his words carefully, and spoke softly, as if trying not to force his opinion upon them.
“But just look at her,” Ada exclaimed. “She can hardly breathe. A trip like that would probably kill her.”
“It might, but then again, it might be her only hope.”
Darcy’s words hit Laurie hard. “So, what you’re saying is, the trip might kill her, but what chance does she have if we keep her home?”
“It’s for you to decide. I’ll wait downstairs.”
After he left, the three stared at each other in shocked silence, not wanting to make what could be a fatal decision but knowing they must. Elizabeth was the first to speak up. “I think Hugh should be the one to decide. He is, after all, Maryanne’s father.”
Laurie vigorously shook her head. She wouldn’t say it aloud, but her brother had shown little interest in his children. He loved them, she supposed, but if they left the decision to him, would he have his daughter’s best interest at heart or decide what was best for himself? “Let’s not inflict him with a decision like this. He’s still in so much pain he’s not thinking clearly. It’s up to us to decide.”
Ada spoke up. “Laurie, this tracheotomy… Did Doc Hansen think it might really work?”
“He seemed to think so. He said this doctor in Hangtown has performed several and they’ve been successful.”
Elizabeth still looked horrified. “But cutting into her throat? How could she survive such a thing?”
Maryanne fell into another fit of coughing that went on and on. Weak and exhausted, she finally stopped but still fought for breath. Her face had taken on a slightly bluish color. Finally, she managed to draw enough air in her lungs that the blue color receded.
“She’s better, I think,” Elizabeth said.
“For the moment,” Laurie answered grimly. She felt Maryanne’s forehead. “She’s as hot as ever, if not worse. Did you see how blue she just got?”
Elizabeth spoke again. “Bad enough you took her to the hospital, but clear to Hangtown? That’s way too far. This is too much for me. It’s for you to decide, Laurie, but you know what I think. She needs to stay right where she is in her bed.”
“I think so, too,” Ada said. “It would be foolish to move her. Sick as she is, how could she stand such a trip?”
Maryanne was beyond talking but looked up at Laurie with such pleading eyes that Laurie’s heart wrenched at the sight of her suffering. She loved this little girl as she would her own. If she were to die… No, she couldn’t bear the thought of it. But little Ruthie had died, hadn’t she? The threat was real. So how could she not seize upon anything that might save Maryanne? But taking her clear to Hangtown seemed an outrageous idea. What if she died along the way? What if they couldn’t find the doctor? And if they did find him, what if he refused to do the tracheotomy? What if he did do it and she died anyway?
But what if Dr. Grover Scott performed the procedure and it was successful?
Maryanne started gasping for breath again, eyes wide with fright, her little chest heaving laboriously as she desperately fought for air. Laurie’s mind raced. Mother was wrong. Ada was wrong. Clearly if something wasn’t done, her little niece could not hold on much longer. Like little Ruthie, she would go through the agony of fighting for air until she lost the battle and died. Only one thing to do. It had to be done and damn the consequences. “I’ve decided. She’s going to have the tracheotomy.”
Mother placed a hand over her heart. “Are you sure? How could you even think of taking that child on such a journey?”
“She’ll never make it,” Ada cried.
Ignoring them, Laurie sped from the bedroom and called down the stairs. “Mr. McKenna? Can you come quick? We’re taking her to Hangtown.”
* * * *
During the short time Laurie had lived in Lucky Creek, she’d become accustomed to the terrible roads. All unpaved, they were either a muddy mess from rain or snow or filled with choking dust. But awful though they were, she hadn’t known what a bad road looked like until she and Darcy began their journey to Hangtown, the larger, more established mining town that lay a few miles to the north. Sitting close to Darcy, holding Maryanne in her arms, she didn’t think the road looked too bad as they started out, even though it wasn’t much more than two well-worn tracks in the dirt.
Had she not been so concerned about Maryanne, she would have enjoyed the beauty of the snow-covered peaks towering above them; the awesome height of the trees in the conifer forest through which they drove. Early on, they passed a spectacular waterfall that sent rainbows of color into the mist. With a deafening roar, water plunged from at least a hundred f
eet above into a raging stream. A crude wooden bridge passed over it. Laurie closed her eyes and held on tight as they crossed only inches above white-foamed water cascading over huge boulders directly beneath.
But that was the easy part of the journey. They soon came to a spot where the road cut along the side of a mountain. To Laurie’s right, a steep wall of dirt and rocks loomed so close she could reach out and touch it. To her left, a ravine so deep she couldn’t see clear to the bottom lay perilously close. Darcy kept a tight hold on the reins, intent on his driving. Clutching Maryanne tighter, Laurie tried to control the shake in her voice as she remarked, “I wish there was another way to get there.”
He cut her a quick glance. “Don’t look down.”
“You never told me about this part.”
“You never asked.”
“What if we meet someone coming the other way?”
“Then we’d have a problem, wouldn’t we?”
Thank God, they soon left the ravine behind without encountering anyone. Their luck didn’t hold. Farther along, when they were traveling up a hilly section of a road wide enough for one, they encountered a large wagon carrying a group of miners coming down. Both came to a halt. What a blessing the hill wasn’t too steep, but even so, either the carriage or the wagon must back to a spot wide enough to pull off and let the other by. Darcy uttered a curse under his breath and said quietly, “It’s easier to back down than to back up. There’s an old, unwritten rule about it. We’re headed up, so we’re the ones who should back down, only I hate to take the time.” He gave the other driver a quick salute and called, “We have a sick child here, and we’re trying to get to a doctor. Will you let us through?”
The driver, a burly-looking man with a full beard, took a close look at Laurie just as Maryanne had another coughing spell. He turned to his companions behind him and said something she couldn’t hear. They looked like a rough bunch who could easily have their way if they wanted. Every minute counted. Laurie could only hope they’d have enough pity in their hearts to let them by.
The man with the beard turned back and called, “Come ahead.”
Darcy snapped the reins. Slowly they followed as the wagon driver performed the difficult task of backing four horses and a wagon up the hill. Finally, when the bearded driver came to a wide spot and pulled off the road, Darcy drove slowly by, nodding a salute and calling, “Thank you, sir.”
“God be with you,” the burly driver called.
From the back came more voices.
“Bless you.”
“Hope the little tyke’s all right, ma’am.”
“I’ll say a prayer for you.”
So far, Laurie had managed to hold on, but now sudden tears blinded her eyes. The kindness of those miners had touched her heart so deeply that whatever happened, she would know she wasn’t alone and there were good people in this world. She would never forget this moment.
“That was very kind of them,” she said as they continued on.
“Yes, it was.”
Darcy’s words were simple, yet she could tell from the slightest of quivers in his voice the miners’ simple act of kindness had affected him, too.
Maryanne got over her latest coughing spell but still fought for every breath. She couldn’t last much longer. She began to cough again. Deeper now, her breathing sounding even more desperate. Laurie hugged her tighter. “How much longer?”
“Less than an hour.” Darcy flicked the reins, urging the horses to a faster pace.
* * * *
Laurie needn’t have worried about finding the doctor. When they reached the main street of Hangtown, the first passerby they asked knew the exact location of Doctor Grover Scott’s clinic. Luck stayed with them as they easily found it. By now, Maryanne was fighting for breath even more desperately. They hastened inside. What a relief to find the doctor there, seeing patients. The nurse took one look and directed them to an examining room. As Darcy lay Maryanne on the table, Doctor Scott appeared. The child was fighting for breath and turning blue again. “Please help us,” Laurie cried in a panic. “Doc Hansen sent us. He said you can do an operation that could save her.”
The doctor, a young man with kindly eyes, took one close look and snapped, “There’s no time to lose. I can’t guarantee I can save her at this late date, but I’ll do a tracheotomy. Best you wait outside.”
Laurie and Darcy left quickly and settled in the waiting room. For a time, she sat in silence. What could she say? This was no time for pleasantries, not when her little niece lay helpless, close to death, and the doctor was cutting into her throat. Please God, let Maryanne live. What if she died? Laurie tried not to picture that moment when she’d have to inform her family the sweet little girl they loved was gone. They would hold her responsible. Maybe they wouldn’t say so, but she’d see the condemnation in their eyes. Why didn’t Laurie leave the poor child where she was? Look what happened when she insisted upon taking her on that foolish journey to Hangtown.
Darcy must have sensed her reluctance to talk because he remained silent for a time. Finally, he inquired, “Are you doing all right?”
“Not really.” Realizing how pessimistic she sounded, she tried to smile and failed but managed to lift her chin. “Hoping for the best, of course.”
“Don’t give up. There’s a good chance we got her here in time.”
The day had been so filled with anxiety and stress she’d hardly given a thought to Darcy McKenna. Since she met him, he’d been brusque and aloof, and she hadn’t liked him at all. Today was different. His thoughtfulness and generosity were making her think twice. Who else would have taken the time to drive them clear to Hangtown on that awful road? He was a busy man with a business to run, yet here he sat, patiently waiting, lending his support to a woman he wasn’t obligated to in any way. She’d already told him how kind he’d been. Clearly, he didn’t expect or want her gratitude. Even so, she needed to tell him again. “I very much appreciate your doing this.”
He shrugged. “Like I said…”
The door to the examining room opened wide. Laurie leaped to her feet. The doctor came out and he was smiling. “Your little girl’s mighty sick, but I got the tube in her throat, and she can breathe now. Can’t say for sure but looks like she’ll be all right.”
Laurie clapped a hand to her heart. “That’s wonderful news, Doctor. I can’t begin to tell you how much this means.”
Darcy was smiling. “When can we take her home?”
“Not tonight. Mind you, she has a tube in her throat, and I’m not sure when it should come out. She’ll be staying in the clinic overnight and maybe longer.”
“Can we see her?” Laurie asked.
“Of course, you can. Then I suggest you get some rest. The nurses will keep an eye on her the rest of the night.”
“I can get us hotel rooms,” Darcy said.
He’d made a point to say rooms, not room, and Laurie was grateful for that, even though at the moment, she didn’t care where she slept. “I don’t want to be away from her too long. Can I spend the night here?”
The doctor nodded sympathetically. “Of course, you can.”
Maryanne lay sleeping, breathing softly. A tube protruded from her throat through a heavy bandage. Such an ugly thing, but she’d have died without it, and Laurie gave silent thanks, not only to Doctor Scott, but also Doc Hansen who’d told them about the surgery. Also, thanks to Darcy because without him Maryanne would still be home and probably wouldn’t have survived. When Laurie placed a hand on her niece’s forehead, it didn’t feel as warm. “I think her fever’s broken.” She turned to Darcy and smiled. “I think she’s going to be all right.”
He smiled back. “I think so, too. Are you hungry?”
“I just realized I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Then let’s get something to eat, shall we? Unless you feel the need to stay.�
�
How thoughtful of him. “She’s in good hands. Let’s go. I’m starving.”
With its plush carpeting, fine linens, and crystal, the Gold Room at Hangtown’s El Dorado Hotel rivaled Philadelphia’s most luxurious dining rooms. Ordinarily, Laurie would have dressed in a manner more befitting a place so elegant, but in her ebullient mood, she didn’t mind that her everyday grey muslin looked much too plain and wilted for a place like this. She’d done what she could with her hair, but after such a grueling day, she couldn’t do much with the wispy strands that had escaped from the bun she’d so carefully arranged atop her head this morning.
In his dark suit of brushed cotton, white shirt, and string tie, Darcy fit much better in such elegant surroundings. Now, sitting across from him, she noticed he wasn’t bad looking at all, a fact that had somehow escaped her attention before. Both in the happiest of moods, they gave their orders to an impeccably dressed waiter in a tuxedo, then sat chatting about Maryanne and the miracle of her recovery. Their dinners arrived—filet mignon for him, oysters for her. She took her first forkful of the oysters, covered with a rich sauce. “Mm, this tastes wonderful.” She felt wonderful, too, and it was all thanks to this man who sat across from her. For the first time, she was curious to know more about him. She took a sip of the French champagne he’d ordered, set it down and smiled across the table at him. “Tell me about yourself, Mr. McKenna. You told me how you had to work when you were a boy. That must have been exciting, working in a coal mine.”
For the fleetest of moments, Darcy shut his eyes, as if her words had struck a vulnerable spot within him. He quickly recovered and smiled pleasantly. “Very exciting. A world of fun.”
The faint thread of irony in his voice told her she’d made a mistake. How callous she must have sounded. He must think her utterly frivolous and empty headed. She continued on, hoping she wouldn’t make another blunder. “So, what did you do after you left the coal mine?”
“Well now…” He sat back relaxed. “I left home at a young age. Didn’t have much money, but I managed to make my way to Wyoming Territory where I worked on a cattle ranch.”
Lucky Creek Lady Page 11