Read Online Her Healing Ways by Lyn Cote - Free Book Online

speak and couldn’t. What had happened? He couldn’t gather his thoughts. They were like popcorn sizzling in a hot pan, hopping and jumping out of reach. His face felt like it was that hot pan. A fever? Had the cholera got him this time?
    He looked to Mercy. Maybe she would speak tohim and then he would know what had happened, why his chest hurt, why he couldn’t speak. But Mercy’s eyes remained closed. Her thick, golden-brown lashes fanned out against her pale skin. She’d taken off her bonnet. Her flaxen hair had slipped from the tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her small nose was pointed downward; her pale-pink lips were parted slightly. He couldn’t look away. How lovely she was. How untouched.
    He drew a deep breath. Pain stabbed his chest. He stopped the flow of air, then let it out slowly, slowly. He lifted his hand, or tried to. “Mercy,” he whispered. “Mercy.”
    Her eyelids fluttered and opened. “Lon.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Lon, how is thee feeling?”
    He moistened his mouth and tried to speak again.
    â€œThy mouth is dry, Lon Mackey.” She reached over, lifted a cast-iron kettle and filled a cup. “Here. Drink this. It has more to it than water and thee needs strength. If thee can stay awake, I have venison broth ordered for thee.”
    He drank the lukewarm, bitter coffee with gratitude. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was until he had seen her pouring coffee into the cup. “More.”
    She refilled the cup and he swallowed it down, lay back, gasping as if he’d just sprinted a mile.
    â€œWhat happened?” he whispered.
    â€œThee suffered an injury. Does thee want some venison broth?”
    â€œYes.” He wasn’t hungry, but he knew eating was necessary.
    Mercy rose. “Sunny!”
    He heard footsteps and turned his head. The petite blonde came down the stairs. “Yes, Doctor?”
    â€œWill thee go to the café and ask for broth for my patient? The proprietress said she would keep some on the stove for me.”
    â€œOf course, Doctor.”
    â€œI thank thee. I don’t know why Indigo hasn’t returned.”
    Lon remembered then. This blonde girl had been there when—what had happened? “What kind of injury?” Hearing his own words startled him.
    â€œThee was stabbed.” Mercy’s voice was matter-of-fact.
    â€œStabbed? By whom?”
    â€œI do not know. I did not see it happen. I was called to the saloon to doctor thee.”
    He rolled her answers around in his mind like marbles, but he could call up no memory. Mercy wouldn’t lie, so it must be true. Anger flickered in him. Had the man been apprehended? The fog was blowing into his mind again. No, no, let me think…
    Â 
    Lon woke to Mercy’s coaxing voice. “Lon, Lon, thy broth has come. It’s nice and hot, and smells delicious. Please open thy eyes.”
    He looked up into her face and was swamped with the comfort of seeing her. He stiffened himself against the pull toward her. I’m weak and getting strange thoughts. It’s just good to have a friend, and one who’s a doctor. He tried to raise himself. Pain lanced down his left side. He couldn’t stop a groan. “Help me sit up.”
    â€œFriend,” Mercy said in that tone people used with children and invalids, “thee were stabbed, remember? That will pain thee on the left side. Let me raise thy head and I will help thee with the broth.”
    â€œI’m a grown man. I don’t need help eating,” he snapped. The words exhausted him. If he’d had the strength, he would have cursed. No, not in front of Mercy.
    â€œThee is weak from thy wound. Thy blood loss was considerable. Thy strength will return if thee will only let me help.” Mercy slid another pillow under his head and shoulders. Then she picked up the bowl and spooned some broth into his mouth.
    The broth was salty and