Big Valley - I don't own it, I get no profit, I hope you enjoy. Other characters and story are mine.
The Doctor's Visit
The two ranchers rode into town, the blonde of the twosome instinctively keeping his bandaged arm close to his body, fighting to stay in the saddle. The sounds of a not too distant street party wafted through the air.
"Heath, you want to find a place to rest while I figure out where the doctor's office is?"
"Could do that, or we could try the building across the street."
Nick followed his brother's gaze and saw the lettering in the window. Dr. Clayton Parker. The two men directed their horses to the white clapboard building and Nick swung out of the saddle, taking both sets of reins and securing the horses to the rail in front, then helping Heath swing down off his horse. Heath mounted the stairs gingerly, every movement seeming to aggravate the throbbing coming from his shoulder. Nick's arm wrapped around his waist, holding Heath up by the belt, his eyes darting to the man standing at the window. "Looks like someone's here." He rapped loudly on the door, waiting for a moment before glancing back, opening the door when he saw the man beckoning them in. Nick pushed the door open, allowing Heath to go first.
The white haired man took both brothers in, his light blue eyes seeming to look through them. "Is there something I can do for you boys?"
"Are you Dr. Parker?" Nick asked.
He nodded quietly, looking down as one hand rubbed the other. "I am." His gaze concentrated on Heath. "Looks like you're in need of a doctor." He took in a deep breath, and stepped off toward his examining room. "Bring him in here and we'll see what we can do for him. What happened?"
Nick helped Heath into the next room, feeling his brother lean heavily against him. As they neared the examination table, Nick felt Heath falter and, without hesitation, swung his brother up onto the table, hearing a grunt as his body landed on the high surface. "We were riding, trying to get back to Stockton when we came upon a rattler. Spooked the horses and my brother fell, must have landed on a sharp rock, he got cut pretty bad, but nothing seems to be broken."
As Nick spoke, the doctor moved quickly, pulling the packing away from the cut on the shoulder, the blood still seeping from wound. "He's lost a lot of blood." He took in a deep breath, almost as if steeling himself to what had to be done. He assessed Heath, checking his eyes, his pulse. "Did he lose consciousness?"
"No, although there were a couple of times when I thought he would on the ride here."
The doctor nodded, moving to get his supplies. "Thank God they left these here," he muttered.
Nick looked up sharply, "What's that, Doc?"
The physician glanced back up. "I've been away, helping out at a reservation near here. Some of the townspeople have had to come in for supplies." Taking a scissors, he cut the shirt away, grabbing Nick by the hand and pressing it down on Heath's shoulder, eliciting a moan. "I need you to keep that pressed down, he's lost too much blood already." He looked at the two men, one so dark, the other fair. "Know if he's ever had a transfusion?"
"He's had one from me. We're brothers."
"Were there any complications?"
"No."
"That's good to know." Walking back to the cabinet, he found the ether. "I need to stitch up that shoulder." Laying out his instruments carefully, he prepared to work quickly. He placed the mask over Heath's face, letting the ether flow in measured drops. "Do you know how to do this?"
The dark haired cowboy nodded. "I may need you to talk me through it." The elderly physician nodded. "How does he look, Doc?"
He didn't answer, just moved diligently, pouring the contents of one bottle into the open wound, watching as, even though unconscious, Heath flinched at the sensation. "I need you to hold him down at the shoulder, here and here," he said, not looking up at Nick. Dr. Parker picked up the mask, giving another dose of ether before he exchanged the mask and bottle for the forceps and a needle, probing into the shoulder. As he worked his way into the shoulder, the blood rising in the wound, Nick looked away. Never one to be squeamish, he found his jaw clenching as he fought back the bile rising in his throat, thinking he would never get used to seeing the insides of another man's body, especially that of his brother. "I don't need two patients right now. If you're not feeling well, sit down over there," the white haired physician said matter of factly, tossing his head toward a chair against the wall.
"I'll be fine," Nick answered, his voice devoid of emotion as he steeled himself to the task at hand, noticing only the flurry of activity as the doctor stitched inside the wound, hurriedly stemming the flow of blood.
Moving to pack the wound, checking to see if the cavity was still filling, the tempo slowed dramatically as he began to move cautiously to check inside the wound for debris. Pulling small bits of dirt and gravel out of the wound, he flushed it with clear water from a pitcher more than once before he took in a deep breath. Not looking away from his patient, he commented softly, "Looks good," as he picked back up the needle, stitching the wound closed, not glancing up until his work on Heath was completed. "Are you still ready to give blood?"
Nick nodded, rolling back his sleeve.
"Sit on this side, please," he asked, indicating Heath's other arm. Without any fanfare, he moved back to his medical cabinets, pulling out the needed supplies, working quickly once again as he inserted needles, connecting the brothers with tubing, the blood of the older now running through the younger's veins. He watched both men carefully, letting the life sustaining liquid flow from the dark haired man to the light, watching as Nick's eyes scanned his brother's face, as his free arm pushed back the hair back from Heath's forehead. Looking again to his patient lying on the table, Dr. Parker took in a deep breath, feeling a sense of satisfaction as Heath's color improved, still, after all these years, amazed at the miracle of blood. Stepping forward, he clamped the tube that ran from one to the other, pulling the needle from Nick's arm first, letting the remaining blood drain to Heath before he withdrew the second needle, a small drop of blood falling on his wrinkled hand, unnoticed for the time being.
"I would offer you some coffee, but as I said, I've been away. And I don't think I'll be able to get anything from the mercantile for you." He looked down at his hand, wiping the blood drop, paying close attention to the red smear left on his white skin. Looking up he saw Nick watching him intently. "Not tonight anyway."
"We have some coffee in our pack. Be happy to share it with you."
Dr. Parker nodded in acknowledgment. "If you get the coffee, I'd be happy to make it for you."
Nick watched quietly as the doctor walked over to him, bandaging the spot where the needle had been inserted. Suddenly, the sounds from outside invaded the room. "What's going on in town tonight?" Nick asked.
"It's Halloween. There's a town party."
"Right. Halloween. Looks like your windows haven't got soaped yet." Nick glanced out the windows, then back down at his arm.
"No, not much point in it this year."
"Hmm? What's that?"
"I've spent so little time in my office lately. The youngster's are likely to pass me by this year." He glanced down at Heath, checking his pulse, nodding silently. "I could see what's in the cupboard, but I expect they're pretty bare, too."
Nick shrugged it off, rolling his sleeve back down. "Doc, I could go for some coffee and a comfortable chair and I'll be fine." Standing, he walked out the door, returning with supplies from their horses out front, Heath's and his saddle bags slung over his shoulder. "Kitchen in the back?"
"Yes, but I'll take care of that."
"No need, you watch over my brother."
Nick made his way into the rear of the building, finding the coffee pot and cups easily, amazed at how few provisions there were in the house. He shook his head, thinking to himself the doctor must have just returned for him to not even have coffee in the house. Resting in the kitchen chair as the coffee brewed, he offered a quiet prayer for finding a doctor in the small town, grateful that he had returned from the reservation. Shaking his head clear, he moved to the stove, pouring two cups of the steaming liquid, carrying them back to the room where Heath was now resting comfortably. "Here you go, Doc."
Glancing down at Heath, once again stopping to send the hair back from his blonde brother's forehead, he smiled at the color that was already improving. "How long you think he'll be laid up?"
"Not long, he seems real strong. But I think it'll be a couple of days before he's ready to spend much time on a trail. You can catch a train up in Sommersville, though. Just about a day's ride due North. Once he gets a few days good rest, he should be able to make it there. Until he's ready to ride, you can stay at the hotel up the street. It's nothing fancy, but it's clean and the food's not half bad."
Nick nodded, sitting in the chair beside Heath's bed, taking another sip of coffee. He watched as the doctor cradled the cup in his hand, seeming to enjoy the feel of the warm cup, the steam wafting up to the old man's face. The doctor took a deep breath, inhaling the rich aroma, hesitating before he took a sip, a smile crossing his face at the taste of it.
"Doctor Parker, if you don't mind, I'd like to spend the night here."
"Of course. And you need to remember, with the blood you gave, you're in no shape to be running around anyway. Take the other bed and get a good night's sleep. You can move to the hotel tomorrow." Dr. Parker laid a hand on Nick's shoulder and Nick felt a chill pass through him, an involuntary shudder passing through his body. Parker withdrew his hand and moved to a closet, pulling out a couple of blankets, handing one to Nick, unfolding the other over Heath. "You two sleep well."
Nick moved to the second bed in the room, letting out a heavy sigh as he sank down onto the bed. He pulled off one boot, then the other, before collapsing back on the soft mattress, his hands rubbing his face as he tried to blot out the events of the last few hours. He glanced over to the next bed where Heath lay peacefully and he shook his head thinking about the numbers of times one or the other of them had needed medical care. Tossing the blanket over his legs, he let his eyes close, sleep washing over him.
He woke the next morning, rousing quickly and stepped to the next bed, gingerly placing the backs of his fingers against Heath's face, a deep sigh of relief escaping him when he found his brother's skin cool to the touch. He noticed his cheeks had a slight healthy pink cast to them and as much as he wanted to check under the bandage, he resisted the urge, choosing instead to sit back down on the bed, pulling his boots on. Smiling to himself as he watched his brother sleep, he hesitated only a moment before he walked to the kitchen, hoping there would be a fresh pot of coffee. But walking into the kitchen, he found the stove cold. Glancing around the rooms downstairs, he found no one and so he stood at the bottom of the stairs, calling up in his deep baritone. "Doctor Parker? Doctor?" He waited a few moments before going up, looking in the rooms, the rest of the building an eerie quiet. Heading back down the stairs, ready to go sit with Heath, he stopped momentarily halfway down when he saw a man standing at the bottom of the stairs, the metal star obvious on his chest. "Sheriff," Nick said in acknowledgment, continuing down the steps.
"I'm Sheriff Boyd. Who are you and what are you doing here?"
"I'm Nick Barkley," Nick answered confidently, holding his hand out to shake the sheriff's hand. "My brother got hurt on the trail yesterday. We came here to get him fixed up."
"Your brother?" Nick nodded his head to the next room and the two men walked into it, seeing Heath still sleeping peacefully. "How's he doing?"
Nick stifled a deep yawn. "Seems to be doing well. Doctor Parker got him fixed up last night."
"Doctor Parker?"
"Yeah, he said he just got back from the Indian Reservation."
Nick looked up to see the sheriff staring back at him, his eyes narrowing. "Dr. Parker went to treat a cholera outbreak and came down with it himself. Dr. Parker's been dead for two months now."
Nick's face screwed up in disbelief. "There was a doctor here last night," he insisted.
The sheriff shook his head. "We haven't had a doctor since Dr. Parker died."
Nick scoffed at the suggestion, remembering the care given his brother the night before. "Well, then, who . . .?"
The sheriff said nothing but turned and walked into the next room, quickly returning, holding out a daguerreotype to Nick. "This is an old picture, but . . . this was Dr. Parker."
Nick looked down to the image in his hand, a man in a Union uniform, an officer. The hair was darker and fuller, the posture straighter, a ruddiness in his cheeks and a light in his eyes apparent even in the black and white likeness of the man, but there was no doubt, the man in the picture was a younger version of the man who had helped his brother the previous night. Nick dropped heavily onto the bed behind him. "But . . . I don't understand."
Sheriff Boyd shook his head. "Neither do I." He turned his head when he heard a bell tolling in the distance. "Uh, Mr. . . . Barkley, did you say?" Nick nodded, his eyes fixed on Heath. "I'm expected for church service this morning, it being All Saint's Day and all. If you don't mind . . ."
"Hmm? Oh, sure, you go ahead."
"You're welcome to stay as long as you need, and I'll check with a couple of the ladies at church, some that have had some experience helping with the sick, see if they can check in on you."
"Yeah." Nick drew his hand down the length of his face, his confusion apparent. "I, uh, thanks. We'd appreciate it."
"Sure thing. I'll stop back in later."
Nick watched as the sheriff left, sitting for several seconds, his eyes never leaving Heath, finally settling on the white bandage covering his shoulder. Never one to sit still long, his breath shaky, he gingerly reached to the bandage, peeking underneath at the slightly pink skin, the even stitches betraying the skill and training of the person who had operated on his brother. Shaking his head, he turned away, crossing the room, pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. Suddenly, his eyes fell on the case which held the medical instruments, all carefully placed inside, each in its neat position and he remembered what he had seen earlier. Walking quickly back to the kitchen, his eyes immediately went to the table, the two coffee cups still out from the previous night. Nick shook his head and returned to the room where Heath lay, sitting at his bedside, waiting for him to stir.
Later in the morning, the blond head finally moved slightly on the pillow, Heath's eyes blinking slightly to reveal the pools of blue underneath the smooth lids.
"Nick," croaked the hoarse voice and Heath grimaced as he tried to lift his head.
"Hey, there! Easy now," Nick said, his voice unusually soft and soothing as he tended to his brother's care. "Want some water?" Heath nodded, letting Nick pick up his head as he took small sips of water. "You hold this down and we've got some soup waiting for you. Some of the ladies in town have decided to take care of us."
Heath fought to keep his eyes open. "How long have I been out?"
"Just since last night." Heath nodded slowly, his good hand moving to touch his injured shoulder. "You in a lot of pain? I can check and see if there's something I could give you for it."
"Nah, it'll be okay. It smarts some though. What's the doctor say?"
Nick hesitated. "He, uh, last night he said you should be up to traveling in a couple of days. He seemed more worried about how much blood you lost more than anything. So we gave you some of mine."
Heath chuckled softly. "Then I 'spect I'll be fighting to get out of this bed any minute now. Reckon I'll start hollering when I walk in the door once we get home?"
Nick smiled in response. "Maybe so. But first we need to get you up and around."
Heath let out a heavy breath and he rolled over onto his good shoulder, pushing hard to get up to a sitting position, a slight sheen breaking out across his face. "Easy, Heath," Nick cautioned, helping his brother sit at the same time as he rested his hand on his uninjured shoulder, holding his brother back. "You go rip open those stitches and we're going to be in trouble."
Heath fought to smile, as he felt the waves of pain wash over him. "Let me guess. The doctor here is like Dr. Merar. He'll tan my hide if I mess up his handiwork?"
"Uh, no. That's not it. He, uh, the doctor, well, he isn't here anymore. He . . . had to go away." Heath threw his brother a questioning look and Nick shrugged. "I'll explain it all later. You just go easy on that shoulder."
"Okay, Nick. Hey, you said something about some soup?"
Nick nodded, walking silently to the kitchen, glancing in cupboards until he found a couple of bowls. Placing them on a tray, he moved to pour two cups of coffee, picking up the two washed cups from next to the sink. Looking down at them, he realized he couldn't tell which had been his the night before and he felt a chill rush through him. Gently, he placed them both down at the back of the counter, reaching up to get two fresh cups off the shelf.