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Authors: Siara Brandt
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Jesse’s side, helping let down the back of the wagon. Both men immediately jumped up inside. Hetty heard another of her Uncle’s descriptive oaths as he looked down into the bed of the wagon to see John Forbes lying wounded in his wife’s arms.
Several ranch hands had come into the yard, wondering what was going on. Other men were looking out of the bunkhouse door.
One of the ranch hands, Pierce Champlin, helped Hetty and Rachel down from the wagon. He then lifted the children out and set them on the porch before helping Zebadiah and Jesse carry the wounded man up the porch steps.
Hetty hurried ahead, opening doors. She motioned them into the little spare bedroom off the kitchen and turned to see her Aunt Delia standing in her wrapper in the kitchen doorway.
“Mercy . . . ” Delia whispered, one hand held against her throat as she stared at the blood on Hetty’s hands and on her dress. “What has happened?”
There wasn’t time for lengthy explanations. Hetty quickly explained while she and Delia gathered what they would need from the kitchen and the back porch. As Delia heated water on the stove, Hetty brought clean bandages. She then got a bottle of whiskey and a glass down from a shelf on the back porch.
“Isn’t there a doctor in Eminence?” Delia asked as Hetty rinsed the blood from her hands.
“Unfortunately he has a reputation of doing more harm than good,” Hetty replied. “If you can get him while he’s sober. Which isn’t often,” she said as she quickly tied her loose hair back from her face. “Delia, do you think you could get the children settled? They have been through a great deal tonight.”
“Yes, of course.” Delia was fiercely protective of children. She had four of her own. The Forbes children would be in good hands.
In the little back bedroom, Hetty poured whiskey into the glass she had brought with her and held it to the man’s trembling lips. It was an effort for John Forbes to lift his head but he was able to drink.
“John,” Jesse said as he leaned over the man. “We’re going to be a little rough on you for a bit. But you already know that bullet has to come out.”
John nodded weakly. “Get to it,” he whispered. “I’ve carried it around with me about as long as I want to.”
Together with Rachel, Jesse and Hetty removed his vest, boots and chaps. Rachel then unbuttoned her husband’s shirt. They had to work carefully to free his shirt from his chest. The worn cotton was stiff with dried blood and removing it had started fresh blood welling from the wound.
Hetty’s stomach clenched at the sight of the bullet hole. It was a deep wound in the flesh below the shoulder. It was purple and swollen around the edges and clotted with dark blood. And it had not stopped bleeding.
Yet, in spite of Hetty’s first reaction and her uncertainty, Jesse had a surprisingly calming effect on her. It was as if she somehow drew strength from the quiet, sure confidence that seemed to be a part of who he was. And Hetty could see that, in spite of her earlier, near-panicked state, Jesse was having the same effect on Rachel as well.
Delia entered the room with a basin filled with hot water. “Your children are settled and doing fine,” she whispered to Rachel and then stood back, waiting to be of assistance where it might be needed.
Rachel took her husband’s hand as they prepared to remove the bullet. Hetty moistened the wounded man’s dry lips. And for a moment, over the bed, Jesse’s eyes held Hetty’s, reassuring her, before they began.
John Forbes groaned and strained beneath the agonizing probing of his raw, torn flesh. The muscles of his throat and jaw stood out like cords while they worked. In the lantern light, a sheen of
Several ranch hands had come into the yard, wondering what was going on. Other men were looking out of the bunkhouse door.
One of the ranch hands, Pierce Champlin, helped Hetty and Rachel down from the wagon. He then lifted the children out and set them on the porch before helping Zebadiah and Jesse carry the wounded man up the porch steps.
Hetty hurried ahead, opening doors. She motioned them into the little spare bedroom off the kitchen and turned to see her Aunt Delia standing in her wrapper in the kitchen doorway.
“Mercy . . . ” Delia whispered, one hand held against her throat as she stared at the blood on Hetty’s hands and on her dress. “What has happened?”
There wasn’t time for lengthy explanations. Hetty quickly explained while she and Delia gathered what they would need from the kitchen and the back porch. As Delia heated water on the stove, Hetty brought clean bandages. She then got a bottle of whiskey and a glass down from a shelf on the back porch.
“Isn’t there a doctor in Eminence?” Delia asked as Hetty rinsed the blood from her hands.
“Unfortunately he has a reputation of doing more harm than good,” Hetty replied. “If you can get him while he’s sober. Which isn’t often,” she said as she quickly tied her loose hair back from her face. “Delia, do you think you could get the children settled? They have been through a great deal tonight.”
“Yes, of course.” Delia was fiercely protective of children. She had four of her own. The Forbes children would be in good hands.
In the little back bedroom, Hetty poured whiskey into the glass she had brought with her and held it to the man’s trembling lips. It was an effort for John Forbes to lift his head but he was able to drink.
“John,” Jesse said as he leaned over the man. “We’re going to be a little rough on you for a bit. But you already know that bullet has to come out.”
John nodded weakly. “Get to it,” he whispered. “I’ve carried it around with me about as long as I want to.”
Together with Rachel, Jesse and Hetty removed his vest, boots and chaps. Rachel then unbuttoned her husband’s shirt. They had to work carefully to free his shirt from his chest. The worn cotton was stiff with dried blood and removing it had started fresh blood welling from the wound.
Hetty’s stomach clenched at the sight of the bullet hole. It was a deep wound in the flesh below the shoulder. It was purple and swollen around the edges and clotted with dark blood. And it had not stopped bleeding.
Yet, in spite of Hetty’s first reaction and her uncertainty, Jesse had a surprisingly calming effect on her. It was as if she somehow drew strength from the quiet, sure confidence that seemed to be a part of who he was. And Hetty could see that, in spite of her earlier, near-panicked state, Jesse was having the same effect on Rachel as well.
Delia entered the room with a basin filled with hot water. “Your children are settled and doing fine,” she whispered to Rachel and then stood back, waiting to be of assistance where it might be needed.
Rachel took her husband’s hand as they prepared to remove the bullet. Hetty moistened the wounded man’s dry lips. And for a moment, over the bed, Jesse’s eyes held Hetty’s, reassuring her, before they began.
John Forbes groaned and strained beneath the agonizing probing of his raw, torn flesh. The muscles of his throat and jaw stood out like cords while they worked. In the lantern light, a sheen of
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