Read Online Sea Change by Darlene Marshall - Free Book Online

and coffee for me."
    "Who is the tea for?" Captain Fletcher asked.
    "Mr. Fletcher, if he awakens. The fever will give him a thirst, but he should avoid strong drink. The sugar in the tea will help him regain his strength. If his fever stays low, I will try to get him to take some beef tea or gruel tomorrow, but he may not have any appetite and I do not believe in forcing patients to eat. Usually their own bodies know what they need and respond accordingly. The water and cloths are to wipe his face."
    Captain Fletcher nodded, and his shoulders straightened a fraction. He was a man of action, and any action would be better than nothing.
    "Mr. Lewis, if you would see to that, Captain Fletcher will assist me in the bloodletting."
    The relief on Lewis's face at not having to help with the bleeding would have been almost comical, but Charley had already slipped into the cabin. The space was so confined they were shoulder to shoulder, and Charley was aware of the man next to her as much as she was aware of the patient in his bunk. Black Davy Fletcher would dominate whatever space he occupied, whether it was a small cabin or a ballroom.
    She adjusted the lantern and sat next to Mr. Fletcher, taking his good arm in hers. Captain Fletcher stood behind her and closed the door.
    "Hold the bowl, Captain, this will not take long."
    She unwrapped her fleam from the oiled rag that protected it from rust, and held it up to the light to inspect the edge. She set it aside and took her ligature, tied it around Henry Fletcher's arm and raised the vein.
    "Steady the bowl now, Captain."
    The lancet flashed in the light and the blood spurted into the bowl in a crimson stream. Charley watched the liquid rise, the marks inside the bowl telling her how much was being removed. Her father hadn't needed such an aid, but he said that came with years of experience, being able to tell at a glance how much blood was being let.
    When she had enough to satisfy her, she closed the wound and bandaged it, then examined the blood in the bowl before setting it aside to be disposed of.
    "Is that wise, bleeding a man when he's already lost so much blood?"
    "I will make a bargain with you, Captain. I will practice the medicine and you will sail the ship. It works out to be far more satisfactory that way." She looked up from where she was holding Henry's wrist and measuring his pulse rate.
    Captain Fletcher was scowling at her, again. Clearly the pirate was not used to people who talked back. Charley did not even know why she was being so antagonistic--she considered herself to normally be the most easy-going of persons, but there was something about Captain Fletcher, especially when he was so near to her that she could smell the soap on his skin, that raised her hackles and made her snap at him.
    She couldn't concern herself with that now, and if Captain Fletcher's presence was going to distract her from what she needed to do, he'd have to leave. Fortunately he solved her dilemma himself by rising and looking down at his brother one more time, then at her.
    "Do what you can, Doctor. Call me if you need me."
    "Captain."
    Fletcher stopped, his hand on the door latch, and looked over his shoulder.
    "It would be better for Mr. Fletcher if he could recover ashore."
    "That is no doubt true, Dr. Alcott, but with the British Navy controlling these waters, there are few ports where I could safely drop anchor, and none of them are nearby. Henry will stay here, and you will see to it that he recovers."
    Or else. ..was the unspoken punctuation to that sentence, but Charley could not let Fletcher's threats distract her from the task at hand, any more than she could let his beauty distract her.
    He threatened her in more ways than he could imagine.
    She turned back to her patient, and prepared for a long night.

    * * * *
    The next days passed in a blur for Charley. Trying to get fluids into Henry Fletcher, using her limited pharmacopeia to lower his fever, bathing his face and chest