The man in second position seemed to be holding something bulky and Elias wasn’t surprised when the bundle was thrown to the side to allow the thief to flee faster.
Of course, that also allowed him to turn and fire with a pistol and as the man turned, Elias felt the instinct to duck and tilt to the side.
The slam of a bullet into his shoulder was definitely not expected, but thankfully not enough to knock him off the horse. He debated for a moment on continuing on, but one glance at his shoulder told him he’d not make it far and he eased up on the horse.
With one last attempt to make a difference, Elias pulled the horse to a halt and yanked his rifle out of the holster on the horse. With the adrenaline still pumping, he managed to steady the gun with his left arm and took aim the best he could. He fired the rifle and when the bullet struck the horse of the third rider, Elias felt the incredible guilt of injuring the animal.
The horse went down and the younger man riding it was thrown. The other three raced off without a hint of wanting to help their fallen companion.
Elias waved his deputy on when the man looked back to see he’d stopped. Samuel continued on and stopped over the man that had been thrown. The thief had only tried to stand once, but immediately collapsed back to the ground.
Probably a broken leg, Elias thought.
Samuel jumped off his horse with his pistol drawn and took the weapon from the fallen man then checked the injured horse quickly. When the next shot was fired, Elias felt even worse for the damage done. The poor animal didn’t deserve to suffer because of the man who rode him.
Elias put his rifle back in the holster then pulled out his handkerchief and shoved it against his shoulder under his coat. His hand came out covered in blood and he growled to himself.
When Samuel approached he shook his head. “That looks bad.”
“Feels worse,” Elias grunted.
“Let me look at it.”
“We just need to ride to the nearest town. See if someone can dig this bullet out.”
“Still in there?” Samuel asked, taking his horse around Elias and looking at him from behind.
“Think so.” Elias put more pressure on his shoulder knowing it was important to slow the bleeding, but with the chase over, the waning adrenaline was replaced with exhaustion and pain.
“How hard can you ride?” Samuel asked.
“Guess we’ll find out.”
“Hang on,” Samuel said. “Something’s coming. Wagon I think. No wait. That’s the coach that was robbed.”
“Go check on them,” Elias said, looking for something else he could use to staunch the flow.
Samuel kicked his horse forward and Elias watched for a bit as the coach slowed to a stop for a moment, then Samuel turned the horse and headed to pick up the bundle that had been thrown earlier while the coach headed straight to him.
“Get him off that horse and into the coach!” the woman inside demanded when the coach pulled up next to him.
Elias looked at the woman, she no longer looked frightened the way she had when they’d raced past them to chase after her attackers. Now she looked like the kind of woman any sane man would tread lightly around.
The coach driver got off the coach and Elias felt like waving him on, but when Samuel neared and hopped off his horse as well then tried to help him dismount, Elias knew he had no strength to fight it. He wouldn’t manage to stay on the horse much longer as it was.
Elias was manhandled into the carriage and the woman climbed in after him, pushing him onto the bench then kneeling at his side and stripping away the shoulder part of his coat.
“I’ve got to get this off. Do you have a knife?”
He motioned toward his feet. “In the boot.”
She yanked up his pant leg without any kind of hesitance then came back up to his shoulder with the knife in hand. She had sure fingers and cut the fabric off him without any danger to his skin even with the constant rocking of the coach.
“This is bleeding too much,” she said. “For this size of hole, it should just seep slowly. The bullet must have severed something. I’ve got to stop the bleeding or you won’t make it.”
“Who are you?” Elias asked.
“Doctor Beatrice Jones.”
“You’re a doctor?” Elias asked, stunned at the news. “Not possible.”
“Hush!” she demanded as she continued to look at his shoulder. She pressed against the wound with one hand, then rummaged around inside her bag with the other.
“I don’t think I can get this out without suitable accommodations.”
“What?” Elias asked, feeling thick in the head.
“I need a table, and water, and alcohol and better lighting. I need a steady place to perform surgery.”
Elias laughed at the words. He didn’t know why they seemed so funny, but his head felt even stranger than the few times he engaged in drink.
With her hands on him, one pressing his shoulder, the other touching his neck, she looked into his eyes. “Hold on, Sheriff. Don’t you dare die on me.”
Elias stared at her with fascination. If he died today, he couldn’t think of a more lovely last sight.
Her voice shouted from the distance. “He’s going under. Get me to a place with water and alcohol and a flat bed or table. Soon or he won’t make it!”
***
Beatrice shoved her way through the door of the saloon they’d just stopped at. Earl Kline, the driver, and Samuel Hicks, the deputy, hauled in an unconscious sheriff and placed him on the bar since the tables were too small and in the middle of the day there were only a few customers in there.
The bartender didn’t seem bothered by the man bleeding out on his bar counter, but looked at her with obvious surprise.
She pushed the annoyance down deep and gave him a job. “Get me your strongest whiskey, some clean towels or sheets, and some bright lanterns. Then I want fresh water. Lots of it. Now!”
The man jumped at her final command and reached for a bottle of liquor then shouted for someone upstairs to bring him some sheets. He walked to the edge of the bar counter and brought back a lantern after lighting it and adjusting the wick.
When a young woman came down with some mostly clean looking fabric, the bartender sent her out for water.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“You hold the light.” Beatrice looked at Earl and Samuel and instructed them to hold the sheriff down in case he started moving when she began digging out the bullet. She had to get that out first then find the source of the constant bleeding and stitch it up if possible.
Though she’d never worked in an emergency situation like this before, the training she’d gone through started to wash over her and she could picture the different steps she’d need to follow in order to stop the bleeding.
She was completely aware of the eyes that watched her. She prayed she could save the sheriff because if she didn’t, then no one would trust her in the slightest, and she didn’t want to have the deputy hold it against her.
Besides, Sheriff Mills, as she now knew him to be, was quite handsome and it would be a pity for the world to lose such a fine man. Beatrice chided herself for thinking like that. He was her patient, nothing more. If he did manage to survive this injury, she didn’t have the time for or even the interest in a husband.
She had no idea how long it took to remove the bullet, then the even longer process of finding the offending blood vessel to work on, but eventually she managed to slow the bleeding to a seep giving her the confidence to stitch his wound closed then pour some whiskey over the skin to help clean it off.
She hoped the wound could avoid any infection or putrefaction. If he managed to rest and recover tonight from the blood loss, he would likely have a good chance of recovery as long as infection could be avoided.
“He’ll need a place to rest. I’ll stay with him to make sure he doesn’t begin bleeding again.”
“You can’t stay here, Miss Jones,” Earl protested. “This
is no place for a woman of respectability.”
“Hang respectability!” she growled. “We aren’t moving the sheriff anywhere else. You told me yourself this is the closest place available. He has to heal and I’m a doctor. I’ll watch over him.”
Beatrice looked at the other men who’d come with her. “Now carry him to one of the rooms.” She looked at the bartender. “Which room is cleanest?”
The man shook his head. “No promises on any of them, miss.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes. She looked at one of the women who worked in the saloon. She’d know better than the man. “I need the cleanest room, and I want new sheets. Wash them if you have to.” Beatrice turned to follow the girl who nodded quickly and started to show her to the first room to the left at the top of the stairs. As Samuel and Earl carried the sheriff up the stairs, Beatrice quickly cleaned off the bed by throwing the soiled top blanket off and took the linen sheet from the girl when she walked in just moments before they brought the sheriff in the room.
Beatrice laid the sheet on the bed then instructed the men to put Elias down on it.
“Thank you for your help,” Beatrice said.
“I have to continue on the route,” the coach driver said. “You sure you don’t want to come with?”
“I can’t leave him,” Beatrice said. “Just bring my trunks in and continue on your way.”
Earl looked like he wanted to argue once more, but he wisely kept his opinions to himself and headed down the stairs.
“I thank you for your help, Miss Jones,” Samuel said.
Beatrice tried not to let it bother her that he refused to call her Dr. Jones.
“I hate to do this,” Samuel said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But that man we caught right before you arrived in the coach needs to be taken to the jail in Birch Creek. Once we get him taken care of, I’ll come back to check on you and the sheriff.”
Beatrice nodded. Then Samuel looked at her for a moment as if considering saying something more, but he shook his head and took a few steps then stopped and turned back to face her.
“What is it?” Beatrice asked.
“The man broke his leg in the fall from his horse. Thought maybe you could check it out?”
“Broke his leg?” She started to the door. “You’re just now telling me this?”
“Didn’t think it was all that important given the fact that you were working on keeping the sheriff alive. Figured it was a bit of a payback for the illegal actions of the lowlife.”
Beatrice completely understood the reasoning, but it didn’t mean she wanted to continue to let the man suffer. Depending on what kind of break it was, she might be able to reset the bone and he’d just need to have it splinted for a time to keep the bones in line.
She walked out of the saloon and found the younger of the four men sitting on the ground against the wall of the building with his hands tied behind him and his legs bound together.
Memories of her assault hit her at the first look into his eyes, but she pushed that away to focus on the injury and not the man himself. She bent down to his legs and looked at the two of them, trying to see if it was obvious which was broken. From the way he held his body and leaned to one side, she was certain she knew which leg it was so she pulled at the pant leg and the man screamed.
“Keep her away from me!”
“She’s going to see about your broken leg, you fool. Keep quiet and let her look.”
“I don’t need no midwife!” the man yelled.
Beatrice glared at him, but didn’t say a word. The boy leaned back at her gaze and Samuel laughed.
“Give me your knife,” Beatrice said, holding her hand up to Samuel. “He doesn’t have one in his boots.”
“This was his.” Samuel passed the blade to her and Beatrice tried not to laugh when the injured man squeaked in fear then tried to pull back from her. She slit the pant leg up the side to get a better view of the bone.
“Get me a few more men to hold him and help me pull. I’m going to need to stretch his muscles back out to straighten this leg or it will never heal right and he won’t be able to walk again.”
Samuel hollered for a few men then when they arrived she instructed the two of them to hold his upper body tight while Samuel pulled on the patient’s booted foot while Beatrice used her fingers and hands to feel for the correct placement. Her impromptu assistants did as commanded and she guided the bone back into place all the while ignoring the man’s screams.
Served him right for being involved with a bunch of outlaws.
“You should wrap this leg tight with two long sticks to it to prevent it from moving again. Then you can haul him off to your jail.”
Beatrice shook the dirt off the bottom of her skirts and then marched back into the saloon and past the second fancy lady on her way to the cleanest bedroom in the establishment.
She contemplated sitting on the edge of the bed, but that didn’t seem appealing at all. Beatrice opened the door of the room and called out to the bartender. “I’ll need a chair brought up immediately.”
She closed the door knowing it was best to come across as a person of authority and one that expected immediate obedience. Otherwise, no one would take her seriously.
CHAPTER TWO
Elias couldn’t remember ever feeling worse than he did as his eyes opened in the dimly lit room. It smelled awful, reminding him of stale liquor and something else. He turned his head and saw a woman standing near the window, looking out into the evening light. He had the kind of cotton mouth and massive headache that only happened when he drank, and that was something he rarely did.
The second he saw the woman, he realized the other smell in the room was the horrible kind of perfume certain ladies wore and he racked his mind for what had happened.
He was certain he hadn’t come in here looking for any female companionship. That wasn’t his way. He’d had plenty of those kinds of women make offers to him when he went about his duties as sheriff and had to enter saloons and brothels on occasion. He had always told them no since he didn’t want anything casual or immoral. He wasn’t in a position to marry and settle down.
He tried to sit up and was stopped by red hot pain in his shoulder. Memory of being shot came back and he turned his head to look at the injury. Even that slight movement sent a jolt of fire through his arm and neck and he tried to bite back the moan of pain but it escaped anyway.
“Don’t move,” the woman by the window said.
“Where am I?” Elias asked.
“In Cassia. A place called Jim’s.”
Elias groaned and closed his eyes. He was definitely not where he should be. “Why are you in here?” Elias asked. “I’m not paying for your company. In fact, I am quite certain I never requested your companionship.”
The woman’s shocked sound made him cringe. He could have handled things better.
“I am not that kind of company, Mr. Mills. And I don’t expect you to pay me either. I didn’t save your life in order to get your money.”
“Saved my life?” Elias asked just as the woman came close enough he could clearly make out her features. It was the woman from the stage coach that had been robbed. The one that had insisted she could stop the bleeding from his shoulder.
He reached up gently to check his wound, and felt the bandaging and the incredible tenderness as he pushed slightly.
“You nearly bled to death,” the woman said. “You’ve been unconscious for more than a day.”
“No wonder I’m so thirsty.”
At his comment. her demeanor changed and she moved over to the side dresser and poured him some water from the wash pitcher. She set it down nearby, but before he could reach for it, the woman helped him sit up then tucked a pillow behind his back so he could manage to drink. She brought the cup to his lips and helped him steady it in his good hand and then guided it to his lips before removing her capable hands from his and allowing him to drink it himself.
She took the cup from him
when he pulled it away empty.
“Do you need more?” she asked.
“Please,” Elias said.
“Go easy on it,” she cautioned. “You don’t know how your stomach will react to it at first.”
Elias did as he was told and only drank part of the second cup. He brought it down slowly and looked at her.
“Where is Samuel Hicks?” Elias asked. He didn’t think his deputy had been injured.
“He took one of the men who’d robbed us to the jail in Birch Creek. Said he was going to see if he could find someone to help him go look for the other three that got away.”
Elias nodded. “Good man.” He took another sip of the water then asked, “What is your name, miss?”
“Beatrice Jones. I’m a doctor. I was on my way to Birch Creek to set up a practice when those men stopped the stage coach.”
“Miss Jones,” Elias said and when she frowned, he wondered if he should have called her doctor or something. “Thank you for patching me up. Would it be too much to ask for something to eat as well?”
“I’ll have them bring you something.” The woman went to the door and left it open as she stepped out. He heard her call down for some soup and bread.
After a moment, the reply came back. “Got some here, but you’ll have to come down and get it. My help is currently busy.”
The sound of her footsteps on the stairs was easily heard and Elias could just make out the voice of a man below making an offer to Beatrice.
“Not a chance,” was her only reply and Elias leaned his head against the headboard.
Another male voice made a proposition to her and she didn’t answer, but the man laughed. While she seemed to have his best interest in mind, she obviously didn’t realize what kind of situation she was in if word got out that she had spent so much time at Jim’s.
Beatrice returned to the room with a bowl in her hand and a piece of bread in the other. She set the bread on the little table nearby and handed him the soup.
“Can you feed yourself?”
He nodded and took a spoonful. She watched him with concern at first, but when she saw he was managing to do it without spilling, she stepped away and sat in the chair nearby, still watching.
The Sheriff's Bride: A Golden Valley Story (Brides of Birch Creek Book 5) Page 2
