by Radclyffe
“All of…the probes. And the forceps…those are the clamps…there.” Vance cleared her throat, her voice stronger. “If you could open that canister…Yes, that one…and pour some of the carbolic over my hand. And my sleeve…could you roll it up, please.”
Swiftly, Mae took care of Vance’s shirt and then unscrewed the metal top from the pint-sized canister. At the first whiff, she drew back in disgust. “Lord. You want that on your skin?”
“It won’t hurt me,” Vance said, holding her hand over a nearby basin. “Go ahead and pour it.”
“Whiskey will do just as good,” Caleb remarked.
Vance nodded. “You might be right.” She shook her hand free of the liquid and walked up to the table. “Let me see.”
Gingerly, Caleb moved the poultice aside, and blood immediately welled up from the hole adjacent to Jed’s shoulder blade. He slapped the compress back down, his expression grave. “The bleeding might stop if I hold this on here long enough, but the bullet will still be in there.”
Vance and Caleb both knew that leaving the bullet in place would lead to infection and certain death. Unfortunately, at the rate the wound was bleeding, Jed was likely to bleed to death before they could get the bullet out.
“Have you given him anything?” Vance asked.
“I didn’t have to. He doesn’t know anything that’s happening.” Caleb tossed the crimson-soaked bandage aside and held out a bloodied hand to Kate. “Could you hand me another, my dear. Just keep one ready at all times.”
“Here you are.” Kate extended the cloth, careful not to look at Jed’s face. She’d discovered very quickly that if she just concentrated on the injury and what needed to be done, she could keep her fear and horror at bay. If she thought that this helpless man on the table was Jed, the kindhearted and gentle man who had welcomed her to the Rising Star as if she had been family, she thought that she might break down in tears. She couldn’t even contemplate the terrible loss it would be for Jessie if Jed died. She could not think of those things and be of any assistance. And she was determined that she would help save this man she cared for and who meant so much to her Jessie.
“Caleb,” Vance said, carefully pressing her fingers over the thick muscles along Jed’s spine. “If you will steady the probe once I locate the bullet, I’ll follow it down with the forceps and extract it.”
“You just get me in the right spot,” Caleb grunted. “Kate, you be ready to swab the blood, because we’re not going to be able to see a damn thing. Mae, you’ll be handing us the instruments.”
Both women murmured their assent. Mae watched as Vance selected a silver probe ten inches long and as thick around as her small finger. It narrowed into a blunt rounded tip at each end. Vance’s hand was steady, her face calm but determined. Despite the terrible circumstances, Mae couldn’t help but think how beautiful she was. Her eyes met Vance’s and held. “Just tell me what you need.”
“This may be too thick. Have the next size down ready.”
“Yes.” Mae searched it out as Vance leaned over Jed.
“Ready?” Vance said to Caleb.
“Let’s get this done.”
The instant Caleb removed the bandage, blood gushed forth. Unperturbed, Vance inserted the end of the probe into the bullet wound, balancing it delicately across her fingers and angling it with slight pressure from her thumb until it naturally found the angle of the bullet track. Then she guided it forward with a gentle massaging motion, avoiding trauma to the surrounding tissues. She was unaware of time passing or of the swift intake of breath beside her. The air grew very still, the sounds of battle receded, and there was only the rush of blood through Jed’s body, the pump of his heart, the ebb and flow of his life that rested now in her hands. When the steel probe touched the ball of lead lodged in the paraspinous muscles, she said without looking up, “Caleb, hold this just as it is. Don’t push forward or change the angle.”
Without looking away from the wound, Vance waited until Caleb placed his fingers next to hers on the probe. She noted absently that his hand was shaking. She repositioned the instrument slightly. “Do you have it?”
“Yes,” Caleb said, the tension making his voice thin and tight.
Vance let go of the probe and opened her hand. “Mae. The forceps. Kate, very gently swab the blood away from the bullet site, but don’t move the probe.”
The smooth handle fit perfectly in her palm. Without needing to look at it, Vance slid her thumb and fourth finger through the grips. Had she had her left hand, she would be holding the probe and, together, one hand would have guided the other, a delicate danse à deux. She was partially blind because she could not feel the bullet or the probe as she pushed the forceps into the wound. Nevertheless, the track the probe had followed was imprinted on her mind, and she guided the forceps effortlessly. When she judged she was an inch away from the end of the probe, she said, “Now pull it back slowly. Slowly.”
As Caleb retracted the probe, Vance opened the jaws of the forceps and pressed deeper into the wound, finally closing the instrument at the point where she knew the bullet to be. With a slight twist to free the surrounding tissue, she extracted the forceps with the bullet held firmly in its jaws. “Kate, press down on the wound now.”
It had taken her just over a minute to complete the entire maneuver.
“Never seen it done slicker,” Caleb murmured.
Wordlessly, Vance turned away from the table and laid the forceps with the bullet still clamped tightly in the jaws onto the cloth Mae had spread out beneath her other instruments. “I imagine you know what needs to be done, Caleb.”
“Yes,” Caleb said grimly, swabbing the area around the wound with a whiskey-soaked cloth. “Now we wait.”
Vance walked to the sideboard and dunked her bloodied hand into a basin of water. Without bothering to dry it, she crossed the room to a door that led out into the alley behind the building, opened it, and stepped out into the dark.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” Kate asked quietly.
“Let’s turn him over and get him covered. I suspect he’ll be as comfortable here as anywhere else for the next few hours.” Smiling faintly at the two women, Caleb went on, “This is the part that’s so wearing, because we’ve done all we can really do. I’ve never seen anyone get a bullet out that was in that deep so fast and with so little damage to all the other structures. No one could have given him a better chance.” He slid his arm under Jed. “You two take his arm there and turn him toward you when I lift.”
Once Jed was on his back, Mae retrieved a blanket from a cabinet along the wall, and she and Kate spread it over him.
“Jessie’s in the other room,” Kate said. “She’s hurt. Could you look at her now?”
“Of course. Go get her.”
When Kate returned to the anteroom, Jessie bolted to her feet, her face pale.
“Kate?”
Putting a smile on her face, Kate hurried to her. “He’s alive. The bullet’s out.”
“Oh Lord,” Jessie sighed, closing her eyes. They’d ridden more than twenty-four hours straight without stopping for food or water. The stress and fear made her weak, and she swayed.
“Here now,” Kate said quickly, wrapping her arm around Jessie’s waist. “You need some looking after. Come in the other room and let Dr. Melbourne check you.”
“The horses. I have to see to the horses. They need to be stabled and fed.”
“And so do you,” Kate said firmly. “Now don’t argue. As soon as you’re taken care of, I’ll make sure your horses get to the livery.”
“Charlie. Charlie Baker came down with us. He should be right outside somewhere. He can do it.”
Kate briefly recalled passing a man in the dark, slumped in a chair just outside the door, on her wild rush inside. “I’ll find him. Now come with me.”
Too weary to think anymore, Jessie allowed Kate to lead her by the hand into the back room. When she saw Jed lying so quiet on the table, his eyes shut, his chest just barel
y moving, she bit her lip to stop the tears and looked quickly away.
“He’s tough as one of those wild horses of yours, Montana,” Mae said compassionately. “He wouldn’t take kindly to you doubting him.”
Jessie nodded.
“I don’t think you need me any longer, do you, Doc,” Mae said as Kate started to gently unbutton Jessie’s shirt. There was something so private about the way Jessie kept her eyes fixed on Kate’s face, as if Kate were all the strength she’d ever need, that Mae had to turn away.
“No, we’ll be fine,” Caleb said absently as he rummaged in the cabinet for more supplies. He did not notice as Mae followed the path Vance had taken a few moments before and disappeared through the back door.
Kate opened Jessie’s wool shirt, saw the bloody tear in the thin cotton shirt she wore under it, and gasped. “Oh, Jessie.”
“I’m okay,” Jessie said swiftly, gathering her wits when she realized how frightening this must look to Kate. “It barely touched me.”
“It touched you,” Kate murmured, cupping Jessie’s chin and brushing a thumb over her cheek. “That’s all that matters.”
“Just don’t worry,” Jessie said, trying not to grimace when Caleb wiped at the blood caked onto her side with a damp cloth.
“Don’t be silly.” Kate kept one hand on Jessie’s shoulder as she watched the doctor work. She felt Jessie tremble. “I love you. I’m allowed to worry.”
If Caleb Melbourne heard, or cared, he gave no sign of it. At length he straightened. “I’m going to tape a clean cloth over this. It should be changed three times a day and the area cleansed.” He looked at Kate. “I’m quite sure you can take care of that.”
“Yes,” Kate said steadily.
“No riding for a couple of days.”
“She won’t,” Kate answered before Jessie could protest.
Jessie motioned toward Jed. “How long will he need to stay here?”
“He shouldn’t be moved very far for at least a week. We’ll get him over to the hotel or Mae’s place in a day or so.”
“I need to go out to the ranch to see to things tomorrow,” Jessie said. She swallowed. “The men are going to be pretty stirred up about this.”
Caleb frowned. “You’d best see they don’t go doing something crazy. I might have a good surgeon here, but that doesn’t mean I’m in the market for more patients.”
Jessie said nothing.
“Let’s go home, Jessie,” Kate said gently. She intended to find out exactly what had happened and what Jessie intended to do about it. But for now, all she wanted to do was hold her.
Chapter Fourteen
It had started to rain, and it was so dark in the alley behind Doc Melbourne’s that Mae could not see her way around the puddles.
“Lord, could this night get any worse,” she muttered, lifting her dress. Her shoes were already a ruin. Her heart lurched when a form materialized from the shadows ahead of her, and she reached into the inner pocket of her dress for her Derringer. As the figure approached, she drew a breath and steadied her hand. She’d not be taken in an alley. What she did—and with whom—she did by conscious will.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” Vance said. “It’s far too dark and inclement.”
“Is there something wrong with your brain?” Mae snapped, her fear overriding her manners. Shaking now, she secured her gun and tucked it away. “I almost shot you.”
Vance slid out of her coat and swept it around Mae’s shoulders. “Well, at least I would have been close to treatment if you had. Where’s your shawl?”
“I left my room in rather a hurry, if you’ll recall.” It was difficult for Mae to see Vance’s face, as the moon had disappeared behind the storm clouds. Still, she could make out enough to know that Vance had been standing in the rain for a long time. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and neck, and the coat that Vance had covered her with was soaked through. Mae placed her palm against Vance’s chest. “You’re wet to the skin.”
“As you will be, if you stand here much longer.” Vance cupped Mae’s elbow and guided her down the passageway toward the main street. “You should go straight home and get warm. Have some tea and a fire or—”
“And while I’m getting all comfortable, just what are you planning to do?” Abruptly, Mae halted, jerked her arm away, and faced Vance in the street. “Wander around until you catch your death?”
“I think that unlikely. I’ve lived outside in weather like this for far longer—”
“I’m sure you have. I’m sure you’ve seen things that no one else could understand even if you explained them,” Mae said sharply, “but you don’t have to now.” She took Vance’s hand and gripped her cold fingers. She didn’t need to see her face to know that whatever had plagued her in the doc’s office still had a hold on her. Her voice had a hollow ring to it, as if she had to force the words out from some deep place. “Come back with me and let me make us both some tea.”
Vance hesitated, still trapped between worlds, part of her reeling from the images of battle, the other drawn to the strength and tenderness in Mae’s touch. She sensed Mae shiver with cold, and that made her decision. “If you’ve whiskey for the tea, I could use some.”
Mae wrapped her arm around Vance’s waist. “Living where I do, that’s one thing I never run out of. Come along, now. The street’s turning into a river of mud.”
Vance very rarely lamented the loss of her arm, because there were far greater things to mourn. But at that particular moment, she wished she had two just so she could lift Mae in her arms and carry her across the treacherous thoroughfare. She’d never had the desire to do anything of the sort before in her life, but she wanted it now like an ache in her bones. She contented herself with resting her hand in the center of Mae’s back to guide her. “I’m sorry for the weather.”
Mae laughed as they set out, splashing through the puddles they couldn’t see and sliding in inches of deep mud. “Unless you called the rain, you’ve no need to be.”
“A lady shouldn’t have to—”
“I know you don’t mean yourself, because I’ll wager you’ve tramped through worse than this. And believe me,” Mae gasped, hurrying the last few feet down the alley to the stairs, “so have I. I walked behind a wagon most all the way out here.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have to do anything of the kind now.”
“Are you all right?” Mae asked quietly. “I know you were bad there for a little bit.”
“I’m recovered, I believe. Thanks to you.” Vance leaned against the building, one leg up on the first stair, the other on the ground. Mae stood close to her, one arm still resting on her hip, her body angled between Vance’s legs. The eaves sheltered them from the worst of the rain, and the lights in the windows on the second floor provided enough illumination for Vance to see Mae’s face. She brushed the wet tendrils of hair away from Mae’s throat, allowing her fingers to linger on the sleek column of her neck. Mae’s skin was cool but the blood beat hot just beneath her smooth skin. That unmistakable rush of life made her all too aware of the void in her own being, and she realized how easily she could feed off Mae’s passion, taking, with nothing to offer in return. “You should go upstairs now and draw a bath. Get warm.”
“I think I might,” Mae said, trying to decipher the brooding look on Vance’s face. Their bodies nearly touched, and the slow brush of Vance’s fingers over her skin stirred heat in places that the far more demanding caresses she endured from others never awakened. She could return to the saloon, back to the noise and press of bodies and mindless coupling, or she could spin out this fragile thread that fluttered between them a little longer. “Join me.”
Vance gasped, not at the unexpected invitation but at the image of intimacy that came instantly to her mind. Mae’s pale skin shimmering with crystal droplets in the lamplight, her lids languid with heat. She dropped her hand away, but she could not step out of the reach of danger. Mae was so close to her that she could feel the outline of
Mae’s body curving into her own. “I…can’t.”
Emboldened by the storm that raged around them and by the terrible tension of what they had just done for Jed, Mae skimmed her mouth over Vance’s lips. It was a fleeting kiss, but one that could not be called anything less. “Then come upstairs and have that drink.”
When Mae turned and started up the stairs, a chill far colder than the night’s enveloped Vance with such swiftness she shook under it. She looked up the stairs, and when Mae paused on the landing to glance down at her, she followed.
*
“I don’t want to leave him here alone,” Jessie said, standing in the open doorway of the doctor’s office and staring out into the rain. Doc Melbourne had sent them out, saying there was nothing anyone could do just now. Charlie had been waiting and, after getting word on Jed’s condition, had gone off to deal with the horses. “I’ll walk you to your parents’ and then come back.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” Kate said, pulling her cloak around her shoulders. Jessie, she noted, seemed oblivious to the weather, but Kate feared it was more shock than toughness. The only time she’d ever seen Jessie so shaken was when she’d been sick with the grippe last winter, and she knew firsthand that Jessie was capable of running herself into the ground from worry. Kate intended to see that did not happen now. “Caleb said he wouldn’t wake up until tomorrow at the earliest, but if you’re set on staying, we’ll both stay.”
“We can’t do that. Your parents don’t know where you are. They’ll be beside themselves.” Jessie hunched her shoulders and stepped out, pulling the door partly closed to prevent the rain from pouring into the room. Her shirt was immediately soaked but she didn’t mind. The biting cold seemed to get her blood going. In between being sick with worry, she’d mostly felt numb. When her father had died in a stampede, it had been over so fast that the pain had been a swift slice to her heart. This…watching Jed’s life seep away, was killing her bit by bit. The only thing she’d ever experienced that had been worse was when Kate had been sick, and that had been as close to dying while still breathing she ever wanted to come. She swept her fingers over Kate’s cheek. “Besides, you should get some rest.”
