Kat's Law

by Samantha St. Claire

  She leaned in, but in the dim light it was difficult to determine if her father was correct. Picking up a second lamp, she handed it to her father. "Here, Papa, hold this for me." It was hard not to compare the poor facilities her father had to work with against those of the modern hospital she'd just left. Surgeries there were well lit, most even had replaced gas lights with Mr. Edison's amazing electric bulbs. What a difference!

  Again, she bent over the man's chest, probing gently. Assuming that he was beyond feeling any further discomfort, she used the scalpel to cut a small incision effectively widening the point of the bullet entry. "Closer, Papa."

  Nathaniel moved the light to above her shoulder. Gently she pulled the tissue away from the wound.

  "I think there must be something else going on. We need to take a look before we stitch this closed, don't you agree?" Kat glanced up at her father.

  Nathaniel stepped closer, handing the lamp to Kat. He frowned. "I think you may be right. Couldn't see it. Think there's some foreign matter there, could be a portion of his shirt."

  Kat quickly retrieved the bottle of carbolic acid and clean cloths from the shelf. She scowled as she soaked the cloth. As thoroughly as she could, she applied it around the wound and a good deal beyond. If only her father had access to a machine like the one they had used in the hospital to cleanse the entire area. She shivered at the memory of the lectures she'd heard about the results of primitive frontier operations without such modern equipment. As much as her father kept up with modern treatments through journals and newly published books, he could ill afford the equipment common now in eastern practices. At least he could begin to stock some of the more recent vaccines. But that was a topic for later discussion.

  A small bone fragment and piece of the man's shirt was removed from the man's chest before Nathaniel asked Kat to close the wound. She knew her father took pride in his record as a physician. His surgeries were clean.

  Kat touched Gabe's knee, causing the weary man to wake with a start. "We think your friend is going to be all right."

  The man looked at Nathaniel for confirmation. "You sure?"

  "No, Gabe, I'm not."

  Kat looked up sharply. That wasn't the kind of response she'd been taught to give at the hospital.

  Nathaniel smiled as he placed his hand on Gabe's shoulder. "But I think he has a very good chance."

  "Thanks, Doc." Gabe stood and entered the surgery to see for himself that his friend was still breathing.

  "You know, you can thank my daughter as well, the other Dr. Meriwether. She saw something I missed."

  "No, Dr. Meriwether," Kat said. "I'm confident you would have found it."

  Her father gave her a weary smile. "Modesty doesn't marry well to medicine, Doctor."

  Gabe's face grew dark, his brows lowered over eyes that had become narrow slits. "We gotta find a way to stop these robberies! This is the third time they've hit the wagon. That posse the sheriff has put together don't do a spit of good." He slapped his leg with his hat, causing a cloud of dust to sift about him.

  "The town has a sheriff? When did we have to hire a sheriff? We've never had that kind of trouble." Kat's face reflected her surprise and disapproval.

  "The town is growing, hon. We've had more trouble since the silver strike in the mountains north above the Salmon," Nathaniel explained. "But I have to agree with you. They haven't managed to catch anyone."

  "Hall and his posse ain't worth the nickel in them badges they wear," Gabe spat back. "All that switching trails from one side of the mountain to the other, hasn't done a lick of good."

  Kat remembered the pale-eyed Hall she'd met that morning. Surely, he wasn't the one they spoke of. "Are you talking about Ethan Hall?"

  Nathaniel looked at Kat in surprise. "You know him?"

  "I . . . bumped into him today at the store," she said.

  "Well, he's not the sheriff, but he's his son and part of the so-called posse. The sheriff is Gilford Hall."

  Gabe slammed his hat on his head and opened the door, but stopped in the doorway, turned and tipped his hat to Kat. "Thanks, Dr. Meriwether."

  "You're welcome. We'll let you know when your friend is out of the woods." She closed the door behind him and turned to her father.

  "So, when did the town hire a sheriff, Papa? When did all this trouble start?"

  Nathaniel walked to the stove, poured a cup of tepid coffee and handed it to Kat. She shook her head, still puzzling over this new revelation.

  He took a sip, wrinkling his nose as he did. "Gilford Hall came to town about a year ago, right after the silver discovery." Pulling back a chair, he sat heavily, running fingers through his tangled gray hair.

  "So, was he elected or hired from somewhere else?" Kat asked.

  "No, nothing that formal. He's really more like a vigilante in my opinion, who just calls himself sheriff. But when the robberies started, well people around here just let him be. It started with robberies in the camps up north. Then it spread to the wagon attacks."

  "So, what else does he do here? Does he run a store? A ranch? Surely, there isn't enough criminal activity here to keep him busy," Kat asked.

  Nathaniel shook his head. "No. But he built himself a very nice house up in the foothills north of town."

  Kat scowled. "I don't like it!"

  "You aren't alone in that." He downed the rest of his coffee, rising stiffly to his feet. He seemed reluctant to discuss it any further, whether from fatigue or frustration, she didn't know.

  "I'm going back to bed. You going to sit with our patient while I catch a few hours of sleep?"

  "Sure, Papa."

  Before turning to his room, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Things have changed a bit." He gave her a weary smile. "See you in the morning."

  Pulling a blanket from her bed, she made a comfortable nest by the wood stove where she could watch over her patient through the open door. She pulled the blanket tight around her shoulders, opening the book she'd been trying to read for the past week. After reading the same paragraph for the fifth time, still not aware of who had done what to who, she put it aside.

  She pulled her knees close to her chest, wrapping her arms about them.

  What was happening to her little town of Snowberry? Whatever it was, she wasn't pleased to see it changing the town she'd held close to her heart these past years. She was pleased with the signs of growth and prosperity. But the violence, well that just wasn't acceptable!

  Chapter 5

  A Deer in the Crosshairs

  It wasn't that she couldn't get up. It was an issue of how to accomplish it while maintaining some remnant of dignity. The length of her skirt, the heel of her boot, even the mud had all contrived cruelly against her. As a result, she found herself sitting in a stinking, sopping mud hole on the very public corner of Main and 3rd Street.

  She pushed a lock of errant hair from her face, managing not only to smear mud on her hair but on her cheek as well. "Lovely! Just lovely!" she muttered.

  "Dr. Meriwether, may I assist you?"

  She took the proffered hand as an unquestioned means of salvation from her ever-deepening morass. However, she regretted her blind acceptance when she finally regained her feet to look up into the face of her unlooked for savior. As far as faces, Ethan Hall's wasn't hard to look at. But after learning of his family's self-appointment as law keepers combined with his ingratiating air, made it difficult for her to be gracious. But gracious was what she must be. Etiquette aside, she was grateful.

  He retrieved her soiled package, holding it as it dripped, in his outstretched hand. "I think this is yours."

  She took it, holding it away from her like a dead rodent. "Thank you," she said curtly.

  "May I assist you to the walkway? It's very slippery here." As he took her arm and steered her through the mud and up the two steps to the boardwalk, she squashed down a quip about the obviousness of his observation. To make matters worse, she slipped again as they reached the relative stability of t
he boardwalk, the inch-thick layer of mud caked on her boots sending her flailing for the handrail. Infuriatingly smug, he took a firm grip on her elbow to steady her.

  Kat granted him a strictly measured half smile. "Thank you."

  Ethan looked down at her shoes, stating matter-of-factly, "You'll not get far like that." Quickly stepping off the walkway, he picked up a splintered stick of kindling from the side of the building. "Here, lean on my back and let me scrape off the worst of this."

  He bent down, lifting not only her foot but the hem of her petticoat. Kat looked straight ahead, mortified. She was like a horse having its hooves picked. Blood rose to her face, but with one foot held in the air she was no more able to move away than the horse would have. So, she took a deep breath, struggling to remember how she'd managed to get through a number of awkward, unpleasant experiences as one of only three women in her class at medical school. She mentally detached herself from her body. It had become an effective behavior management technique. Regrettably, the removed perspective of her mortifying predicament only made her feel more ridiculous.

  Ethan put down her foot and tapped her other leg. Kat looked down at him, a heated remonstration sizzling just on the tip of her tongue. She stopped herself. Oh yes, just like a horse she would need to raise the second foot. She inhaled another deep breath and straightened her shoulders to find herself looking into the amused face of a very tall man, so opposite in appearance from Ethan as to be startling. Whereas Ethan's fair complexion and pale eyes made him classically beautiful, this man was dark and ruggedly attractive. He tipped his hat courteously, exposing a line of tan that left his forehead pale. He nodded to her, and she distinctly saw that his mouth twitched, a smile tugging at the corners. "Good morning, ma'am."

  She pulled her chin up an inch, managing to lose her balance in the movement. The newcomer caught her elbow. Kat grabbed at his arm to stabilize herself and dropped the package yet again.

  Ethan dropped her foot to the wooden step quite abruptly. Both he and the stranger reached for the package at the same moment. Their eyes met in a silent battle of wills. Ethan jerked the package out of the other man's hand.

  Ethan made a feeble attempt to shake off the layer of mud on the package before handing it to Kat. "Here you are, Dr. Meriwether. Hope it isn't breakable."

  She managed another thin smile. What was it about him that disturbed her? "Mr. Hall, you seem to be quite...helpful. Thank you." She tested her footing before taking a step.

  Ethan made a small bow while tipping his hat. "Anytime, Dr. Meriwether. Anytime." Kat felt relieved to see him walk away in the opposite direction.

  She turned hoping to thank the stranger, but he had already descended the steps and was crossing the street. Frowning, she shook out her skirt and petticoat, starting off at a rather slower, more cautious pace to the mercantile.

  "Oh, land o' mercy! Kat, what happened to you?" Mrs. Forester slapped her hand over her mouth as Kat stepped into the store. Taking in Kat's bedraggled appearance, the hand fell away, her facial muscles working hard to keep the smile from her face.

  Kat gave her a thin-lipped response. "A little accident."

  "You're a mess!" She crossed the room and took the package from Kat's hand. In a moment she had placed a comforting arm around her. "Mary Beth, watch the store for me."

  Mrs. Forester and her husband lived in the back of the store in modest but cozy quarters. She ushered Kat to a chair by the wood stove. Pouring water from a pitcher into a bowl, she stepped aside to grab some towels from her bedroom.

  Kat washed her hands and squinting into the mirror, she scrubbed away the smear on her face.

  While she did, Mrs. Forester clucked sympathetically, brushing away the worst of the caked mud on her skirt hem. "What in the world, girl? It's like the days when you'd come in here, your nose bloody, or your knuckles bruised from fighting with Liam and his bunch of no-goods." She looked up at Kat's face. "Remember? You'd come in here looking like some poor alley cat, and I'd clean you up and plop you down, right there." She gestured to the stool by the wood stove. She squinted up into Kat's grinning face. "Seems I even put a stitch right there in that lower lip once."

  Kat touched her lip, recalling the pain of it. "Pretty good nursing without training." She pursed her lips inspecting the tiny scar in the mirror. "There's barely a sign of it now."

  The older woman stood with fists fastened to her hips. "You were quite the hellion back then, acting more like a badger than a squirt of a girl."

  "And you'd scold me for not behaving like a lady, then you'd laugh and I knew you didn't much mind that I didn't."

  Mrs. Forester shook her head, using the chair to pull herself to her feet. "You're right. Guess I was too much of a tomboy myself when I lived with my grandma back in Virginia. She spoiled me something awful." She laughed as she washed her hands before pouring two cups of tea from the pot simmering on the wood stove. Handing one to Kat, she then sat at the little cloth-covered table near the window. Patting the seat next to her, she said, "Now just you come and have a seat over here and tell me how the tomgirl turned into the lady."

  Kat spent a pleasant morning sharing the trials and joys she'd experienced over the missing years since she'd left Snowberry as a very frightened but determined girl of sixteen. Telling Mrs. Forester of her hard journey to earning her degree was cathartic in a way. She told it as if narrating a story, almost dispassionately, describing the cruel pranks she'd endured at the hands of the young men who thought her unsuited for medicine. She could even laugh at them now as she stepped into the role of storyteller.

  "Kat, I wouldn't have believed anyone else but you could have gotten through such humiliation and unjust treatment! You were always trying to make the bullies answer for what they did. I remember when you came in one day with a paper star pinned on your shirt. You'd gone and appointed yourself a lawman. Even now, it makes me laugh to think of your serious face, lower lip sticking out, hands on your hips, telling me how you weren't going to let that Liam pick on the little ones anymore." Mrs. Forester went to refill Kat's cup. She paused arrested at the window.

  "Look at that, Kat! Remember when we could look out this window at the wide valley rolling out to the river? Now I'm looking at Mrs. Dugan's unmentionables hanging outside her back door." She seemed to step out of the present as Kat studied her face. "The town's changing too fast for me."

  Kat's forehead wrinkled as she saw not one but a half-dozen more homes stretched out in a neat row where only grass and wildflowers had grown six years before.

  "You said it was Ethan Hall who helped you out there?" Mrs. Forester pulled herself back to the moment when Kat saw her face brighten.

  Kat lifted an eyebrow as she answered. "Yes, the same."

  "Handsome, isn't he?" Mrs. Forester wasn't one to mince words.

  "I suppose, if you like the Adonis type."

  Mrs. Forester choked, laughing at Kat's response. Recovering, she leaned forward conspiratorially and patted Kat's arm. "He's a fine-looking young man. Even I can feel something stirring when I look into those blue eyes, if you know what I mean." She sat back and took another sip of tea. "He's quite the catch for a town like this."

  Kat found herself stiffening, a flare of temper rising yet again. "I would hope that should I be looking for a suitor, I would look a little higher than someone who was ranked, just, better than worse." She caught the amusement in Mrs. Forester's eye and relaxed. "Besides, I'm not fishing."

  "And why not, child? I mean seeing you come back here without a husband was quite a surprise. As pretty and smart as you are, well, there must have been many a fellow asking."

  Kat idly turned her teacup on its saucer. "Well, you see I made a vow to myself. I knew it would take every bit of energy and grit to make it through school. If I allowed myself to be distracted by a romantic entanglement, I knew I'd never make it through."

  "Well, you've certainly got grit! Anyone who knows you, knows that."

  "But I needed self-d
iscipline too." She sat back in her chair looking past Mrs. Forester out the window. "There were temptations, one in particular." The face of Caleb, the third-year student floated before her mind's eye. Her ear lobe throbbed at the memory.

  "Well? Aren't you going to tell me?" Eyes bright with interest, her friend had leaned forward expectantly.

  Kat waved her hand. "Not worth telling, really. But it taught me that I needed to be a little stricter with myself and employ some boundaries around my head and heart. So. . ." She leaned forward to whisper across the table. "I think of them as patients. And if a young man is especially attractive, I think of him as a cadaver."

  Mrs. Forester's hand flew to her mouth. "Isn't that what they call a dead person?"

  "Yes!" Kat laughed in a most unladylike fashion.

  "Oh, and there's one other thing I do that reminds me to keep my focus on my career."

  "Can't even imagine."

  "When my mind starts to wander too far and I notice too much about. . .things, I pinch my ear. The harder I pinch, the better!"

  Mrs. Forester wagged her head. "You are a caution, Kat! You plan on doing that all your life?"

  "Not necessarily, but at least until I've worked a few years and have established a practice. Perhaps."

  The door creaked, admitting a flushed, harried face. "Mrs. Forester, sorry to bother you, but I think you better talk to Mrs. Halverson about her order. She's kinda getting hot under the collar."

  Mrs. Forester rolled her eyes and answered, "All right, Mary Beth. I'll be right there."

  Kat remembered her reason for coming and picked up the soiled package from the floor. "Mrs. Forester, I forgot. Do you think you could alter a skirt that I have?"

  "You do look a bit slimmer than I remember. You want me to take in the waist?"

  Kat shook her head. "No, I was hoping you could make it into a split skirt, something that would make riding easier."

  Mrs. Forester tipped her head, her interest piqued.