by Ron Schwab
"The chest wound is certainly the biggest challenge I've faced as far as gunshots are concerned. The problem is the bullet is buried deep and it is located near the heart and lung and vital arteries. I can't just 'dig it out,' as the old timers say. Hippocrates said that 'first physicians should do no harm.' In all likelihood, that is exactly what I would do if I tore in there with a scalpel."
"So what are you going to do?"
"We must keep him absolutely still. If you wish, you may hold his hand. Perhaps it will calm him some. And, if not, I suspect you may find it helpful."
He had read her mind. But why should she be surprised. She already knew him to be an exceptionally insightful man. "Thank you," she replied softly, moving to Ethan's side and taking his hand in hers.
"Now," Weintraub said, "Ruth is going to administer a light dose of chloroform. He is obviously unconscious, but I can't risk his awakening or moving when I invade the wound. Then I am going to enter the wound with a Nelaton probe, which has a small porcelain nob on the end. If I think I have found the bullet, I will withdraw it, and it should show a lead mark on the end. It assures I am not misled by a bone fragment. After that, I will insert a bullet extractor that I think is appropriate to this situation. I have only used it on one other occasion, but the head screws into the bullet and I then removes the bullet with minimal damage to surrounding tissue and organs. Then I will use my forceps to remove any cloth or other foreign objects I might find from the bullet's channel."
"You make this sound so simple."
"It will take us two hours at minimum to do all of this."
40
Following the surgery, Skye, Mrs. Weintraub, and Dr. Weintraub pushed the wooden surgery table on its metal rollers into the hospital section of the facilities, and the three of them had gently let Ethan down into a single bed. The hospital was housed in a former parlor and had three beds separated by clean feed sack curtains. Skye was glad to find there were no other current occupants. She noted that changes had been made since her hospitalization, when several guest rooms had been used for patient quarters. She supposed the doctor was adapting the residence to an expanding family.
The next morning, Ethan remained unconscious, which the doctor assured her was not necessarily a bad thing for another half day or so. But he needed nourishment, something beyond the limited water he was accepting. Skye sat next to the bed, her hand holding Ethan's, Running Fox sitting beside her on another chair, sleeping with his head in her lap.
Ruth Weintraub came in and asked, "May I join you?"
"Of course, please do. Would you like my chair?"
"No. Stay put. I'll get one." She went behind the curtain and slid another across the oak floor and placed it near the foot of the bed and sat down.
Skye noticed that the young woman, probably in her mid-twenties, seemed always well-kempt and impeccably dressed. Assisting in the surgery, she seemed confident and poised even as splotches of blood began to cover her surgical apron. The sable-haired woman was incredibly beautiful, and Skye wondered how Henry Weintraub, with his perpetual mussed-up look and somewhat awkward social skills, ever won the heart of this mountain princess. Ruth, though, she remembered, was sort of a mail order bride, and their courtship had been carried on by correspondence
"Your husband was impressive during the surgery. He gave me great confidence."
"He's very skilled. And very smart. He was a brilliant surgeon in a Philadelphia hospital. I'm a little embarrassed. I met him by way of a notice he posted in a medical journal seeking a woman who would be willing to correspond. I am a trained nurse, and I was working at the same hospital Henry once served. That was a half dozen years before my time there. The people who remembered him thought he was a god. He wrote persuasive letters," she smiled broadly. "But he warned me that he wanted to remain in the West and would never have any money. Fortunately, I got caught up in his dream. We met for the first time when he met my train in Cheyenne and were married two hours later." She patted her bulging belly. "Anyway, here we are, and here we'll raise our family."
"You seem to be a good team."
"I think so. I understood when you said you and Ethan were stronger together. Now you are going to leave Ethan for a time. I have filled our one luxury, a claw-footed bathtub, with hot water. It's in the room off the kitchen . . . and you can enjoy a bath. You will find a bar of lye soap and perfumes on the shelf. I've taken the liberty of laying out some of my things for you to wear. We seem to be about the same size . . . when I'm not carrying a boulder in my belly. When you finish, we'll see what we can do for the boy. For now, we can put him in one of the hospital beds.
As evening approached, Skye, savoring the feel of freshness that came after her bath, noticed that Ethan was starting to shift on his bed and blinked his eyes from time to time. "A good sign," Weintraub confirmed.
Ruth Weintraub had made a quick trip to the general store to purchase a few shirts, a pair of denim britches and some underthings for Running Fox, and Skye, over the boy's protests, had administered a bath and stood by while he squirmed into the new clothes.
"Me no want to be white boy," Running Fox protested.
"You're not a white boy," Skye countered. "You are a young Sioux brave dressed in a white boy's clothes. You will always be a Lakota, but you must learn to live in the white man's world."
"Me want to live with Lakota."
"You do not want to live with the Puma?"
"Me want him to live with my people."
Skye left the argument at that. She had more important matters to consider and decisions to make. First, when—not if—Ethan recovered, would they marry? It was one thing to talk marriage far removed from civilization and the practicalities of everyday life, but perspective had a way of changing things. Did she really want to bind herself to sharing her life with a man and the compromises that it would inevitably entail? She and Ethan must talk, and, perhaps, they should not rush this change in their lives.
Then there was the matter of Running Fox. The boy had attached himself to Ethan, who was as close to a parent as the boy now had. She must talk seriously with Ethan about the future of the boy.
The government's reservation order. She, of course, was half-white and had been raised primarily in Cheyenne and would presumably be exempted from any order, and there would no doubt be other exemptions. She would rely upon Ethan to untangle the legal technicalities. She feared the outcome of reservation life for those she still thought of as her people. She knew that the reservation experience had not been positive for other tribes and those of the Lakota who had travelled the reservation road before. In many instances, it led to lives of dependency, deprivation, and starvation. Many, perhaps well-intentioned, bureaucrats were simply incompetent when it came to managing the lives of other people. And she thought that too many of those who were competent were dishonest and diverted government funds to unscrupulous contractors. She, at least, wished for the survivors of her village to have a choice other than the reservation. But was that possible?
This took her to the gold. She was in possession of considerable wealth, but was it hers to dispose of as she wished? She had never thought of it as truly hers. She knew her father had been something of a rogue—but a lovable one from her viewpoint. He had doubtless swindled the Cheyenne out of the gold for a few dollars in trade goods. And there was the matter that the gold had been stolen from the United States government in the first place. Ethan had already suggested on several occasions that the United States government might have a legal claim for the money and that there would be an obligation to notify the army of the discovery. Whether the government had a valid claim or not, she could not imagine that it would not be pursued and eventually recovered. She had no qualms about keeping the gold and setting it aside for the use of her people. She easily rationalized that this would be a partial payment for the lands the whites had confiscated. It occurred to her that this had the potential of being a huge conflict between her and Ethan. Should this be resol
ved before any further talk of marriage?
Skye dePaul did not dwell easily in a world in limbo. She had always been a decision-maker. Now she had to decide.
41
It was past midnight, and Skye lay awake on one of Dr. Weintraub's hospital beds that had been shoved against Ethan's so she was within easy reach and sight. Running Fox slept on the remaining bed curtained off on the other side of her. She had made her decisions but, now, how to carry them out and make them happen was the challenge. Nothing mattered, though, until she was assured Ethan was truly on his way to recovery.
Henry Weintraub had been noticeably agitated when Skye had announced after supper that she would be sleeping next to Ethan tonight. "There is nothing you can do," he said, "and you are not married. It would be a bit improper, don't you think?"
But Ruth, who was quickly becoming her friend and ally, interceded. "Henry, don't be so straitlaced. Someone needs to be with the patient. I'm not going to sit up all night with him, and it seems foolish for you to do so when you have someone who has seen the man through this from the beginning to keep watch."
In the end, Dr. Weintraub was not interested in taking on the two women and had left the room with a parting remark, "Whatever the two of you decide is okay for tonight, but I need to make my beds available for other patients tomorrow."
After he had departed the dining room, Ruth explained, "Most people are cared for at home, and the beds are only used occasionally for surgical recoveries and the like. I'll see that you remain for as long as you like."
"Thank you. And assure Henry that nothing improper will happen within the confines of his hospital." Considering Ethan's condition, this was an easy promise to keep.
Skye was troubled only a little about some of the decisions she had made. She worried she was not being as open and honest with Ethan as she should be. She admitted her devious streak, and she hoped Ethan would forgive her for it—or tolerate it. Now, if only he would wake up.
On cue, a voice beside her mumbled, "Skye, are you here?"
She scooted closer to him and took his hand. "Of course. Where else would I be?"
"Feel like I've been stomped by a herd of buffalo."
She held her hand to his face. "You look like it, too. But I love you anyway, Ethan Ramsey." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
"I'm thirsty," he croaked, "and hungry."
She got up and went to the lamp table next to the opposite side of the bed and lighted the kerosene lump, dimming it so the glare would not be uncomfortable. She poured him a glass of water from a pitcher there and asked, "Can you hold a glass?"
He moved his fingers, testing their strength. "I don't think so."
"I can't hold your head up and help you drink at the same time. You've been sucking the nipple for the past four days."
"I've been what?"
"You heard me." She figured it would do him good to ponder for a while. She retrieved the pillow from her bed and layered it over his own as he lifted his head. Then she helped him drink. She pulled the glass away when she felt he had taken too much for the moment.
"Still hungry?" she asked.
"Starving."
"Dr. Weintraub said you have to start slowly. Ruth left ground corn and some molasses for a mush in the kitchen. I'll mix some with water and bring you a bowl with a slice of bread."
"Forget the mush."
"You've got to eat that before you get the bread."
42
Ethan remembered eating some corn mush and a slice of bread and being awakened several times by Skye to take healthy drinks of water. But mostly he must have slept. He awoke now to find Running Fox standing by his bed with a sober, concerned look on his face.
"Good morning, Fox," he said, smiling.
The boy beamed. "Puma. You wake up. You not die."
"It appears not."
"I be back. Nurse Ruth say I tell her when you wake up." The boy shot out of the room.
Soon he returned with Ruth Weintraub.
"Good morning, Ruth."
"Hello, Ethan. I'm pleased to see you looking much better. By the way, it's afternoon, nearly three o'clock, as a matter of fact. Can you eat something?"
"I could eat a cow."
"Well, I can come close. I have roast beef simmering and fried potatoes with some green beans I put up last summer. I can add a slice of fresh-baked bread. I'll bring you a small plate and you can eat what you're able."
"I would be very grateful. Where's Skye?"
"She left early this morning. I thought she might be back by now. She said she had a lot of business to take care of and some shopping to do, but she promised to be here before dark."
"Didn't take her long to abandon me . . . don't take me seriously. I doubt if she's been far away since I took the bullets."
"Glued to you would be more like it. She only left after Henry promised her you were going to be fine."
"Is Henry here?"
"No, he's at the Conner place. Emma's having her baby. He said to tell you it's all right to sit up when you feel like it. He wants you to start moving around . . . very slowly. Pay attention to your body. Do this in baby steps. Skye gave Running Fox instructions to look after you while she's gone. I don't think he'll be far away. If you need anything, just tell him, and he can find me if necessary. I'll return in a few minutes with something to eat."
He looked forward to Skye's return. He loved her more than she could know, and he missed her presence. He doubted he would ever get accustomed to any separations they endured. It also made him nervous that she was running around loose in the county, up to God knows what. He was certain life with the woman would never be dull. He worried a bit about whether she might have second thoughts about marriage. The spontaneous nature of their talk of marriage had left everything somewhat indefinite, and, in retrospect, he was not entirely confident she was serious. He hoped they could be married in the spring, or by summer anyway. He had no idea what she had in mind for a wedding, but he would pretty much go along with what she wanted. Her commitment was all he cared about. The road they took to get there didn't matter much.
When Ruth returned with his meal, it looked like a feast to Ethan, and he easily cleaned his plate. He would have eaten another serving, but Ruth told him he had to wait and give the meal time to digest. He could have a light meal in the evening, and if things went well she would put him on full feed in another day. She had a holiday meal planned for tomorrow anyway.
"Holiday? I surely didn't sleep till Christmas."
"We're going to celebrate your recovery," she had said, giving him a mischievous wink and smile.
The meal, coupled with his weakness, made him drowsy, and he dropped off to sleep for several hours. When he awakened, he felt a powerful urge to pee and asked Running Fox to pull the chamber pot out from under the bed. He was grateful to have the boy handy, so he did not require Ruth's help with the intimate task.
Skye returned after sundown and, after setting down her packages, bent over the bed and greeted him with a lingering kiss on the lips. She stepped back and her eyes took on a serious look as she seemed to be appraising him. Then they brightened, and she smiled approvingly.
"I think you'll do," she said, "but you stink. I'm going to talk to Ruth and see if we can figure out a way to get you cleaned up. I know you'll have to wear the hospital gown for a few days, but I was out at the Lazy R and picked up some clean clothes. I dropped those by while you were asleep before I went shopping for some things. We need to talk after supper."
"We can talk now."
"I need to think first." She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and she scurried away. "I'm going to speak with Ruth."
Less than a half hour later, Skye returned with a kettle of hot water and a wash basin with a towel and some cloths. Then she left again and brought back a ragged canvas tarp. "We're going to slide this under you, so we don't get the bedding wet. You'll have to help."
She directed Running Fox to get on the other side
of the bed to pull the tarp through when Ethan raised up, and, after a brief struggle, they had the tarp spread beneath him. Skye sent Running Fox for a bar of lye soap and quickly helped Ethan out of his night shirt before he had a chance to protest. He lay naked on the bed as Skye started to soap him down, first washing gently around the wounds.
"It is strange," she said, "I have let you take advantage of me several times, but it was always in the dark. I had not seen you totally naked before."
He could actually feel himself blushing. "Fox could help me with this."
"No, it's time we got better acquainted, I should think. When we get through the dirt and grime, it appears you will pass inspection."
She proceeded to wash his private parts, and he felt enough life there that he tried to turn his mind to other thoughts and partially succeeded.
"Roll on your side, so I can wash your behind."
God help him. He complied, flinching at some pain in his chest when he did so.
Finally, she dried him down, more diligently than necessary, he thought, before she helped him into a new night shirt. Then she shaved him with a razor she had brought back from the ranch. "Sorry for the nicks. I guess we will have matching faces."
"Your face is healing nicely, and you are beautiful."
That earned him another kiss. She sent Running Fox to the kitchen to see if Ruth needed some help.
"Now," she said, "I have only one question. Since you have already taken my innocence from me, do you still intend to marry me?"
"Yes, of course. But I didn't exactly 'take' your innocence. As I recall, it was your idea. You more or less extended an invitation."
"But wouldn't a true gentleman have declined?"
"If so, I've never met a true gentleman."
"Well, I guess it doesn't matter, if you will make me an honest woman."
"You set the date, and I'll make you an honest woman."