Read Online Hurricane Nurse by Joan Sargent - Free Book Online

five-pound girl, Papa. And she's perfectly beautiful."
    It wasn't until some fifteen minutes later that Jack remembered the message he had come to bring. "There's been some fighting over there. A man's got pretty well cut up. Can you come and stop the bleeding?"
    Donna hoped that, in the excitement, the new father hadn't let the warrior bleed to death.
     

Chapter VII
    There were two men needing medical attention in Donna's office. One was pale and bloodstained. The other's face showed several abrasions and a swollen eye that would undoubtedly blacken as the day moved on. Donna sighed. She was as tired as she used to be when she had first started her training, worked her regular stint in the hospital, attended college classes and nodded over her open books as often as she studied.
    But here was more work to be done. Neither of the men seemed familiar to her, and she decided that Mary Hendley must have registered them. Cliff was bent over the bloody patient, a thumb pressed above a cut on his arm. Hank had found a square of unbleached domestic that the last year's nurse had used in teaching first aid and was hunting for something to make a tourniquet.
    The man with the bruised face was talking steadily.
    "Well, we was playin' cards, peaceful as anything. Sure, there was arguments, off an' on, but peaceful, just the same. We was drinkin' some, too, but just friendly like. Worst enemy any of us had couldn't a-called one of us drunk. An' then this so-and-so—he's a Republican, see?—starts in cussin' the President, who's young, sure, an' makes mistakes, but is doin' the best he can, which is pretty darn good in my book. Well, he—" he indicated the bleeding Republican with a thumb turned half back to his wrist—"started in cussin' the boy for everything he's done since he took office, an' I got tired of it and told him to shut up and play cards. That was what started it. That desk, I reckon it was the teacher's and it ain't the most convenient card table I ever seen, neither, got turned over and busted open some an'—"
    The rise and fall of his voice made an accompaniment as Donna took over adjusting the tourniquet and binding three lesser knife wounds.
    "Fighting's one thing," Cliff interrupted the flow of words, his voice stern, "but did you have to use a knife? We're going to have to turn you over to the police, Vickers, when the storm is over. You know that."
    The ardent Democrat began to whine. "There was five of us in it, Counselor. I ain't the only one. And he was in it as much as anybody." Again the double-jointed thumb indicated the man on whom Donna was working.
    "You were the one with the knife, Vickers. But we'll have to take both of you in, I guess. Poague's right badly hurt. We can't just pretend it didn't happen," Hank countered. "Mr. Warrender and I are in charge here. We're supposed to keep order, among other things."
    "But you ain't the police, neither," Vickers insinuated.
    Cliff snapped out his words. "Ever hear of civilian arrest, Vickers? We're quite within our rights, holding you for the police."
    Vickers shrugged and grinned. "Well, it ain't nothin' but assault—aggravated assault, maybe. I been in the pokey enough to know a few words of law myself. Reckon I oughtn't try to get ahead of a smart lawyer like you, Mr. Warrender."
    Donna had finished with Poague, who hadn't said a word. Now he looked up at her and spoke in a weak voice. "I ain't gonna die, am I, Nurse? There was an awful lot of blood, and there ain't no doc in the place. But you're smart. You'll know if I'm gonna die?"
    The girl shook her head at him. "I couldn't promise, but I'm pretty sure you'll be here to get drunk and fight during the next storm. Cliff, will you help him over to the cot? Now you— Mr. Vickers, isn't it?"
    "Great God, Miss," Vickers spoke in duet with Donna, "he ain't in no serious condition, is he? I never meant to hurt nobody. A fight, sure, but nothin' serious."
    Donna didn't answer, but descended on him with