The Night of the Stricken Soldier

It had been a good mission. No injuries and she'd been able to send the telegraph without arousing suspicion, leave the information in a drop box and slip away. A great assignment, she thought, quick, simple and ultimately satisfying. Despite her saying that she couldn't play an airhead, Marcia Dennison had given her some tips and she would try them the next time she had the opportunity.

She was moving slowly along the dirt road to the nearby town of Golden when she saw the smoke, something big was burning. Turning the mare's head, she dug her heels into the flanks and cantered towards it.

The smoke became heavier and as she turned the corner she saw the house and saw the flames licking at the building. She could hear men's voices shouting and from an upstairs room the terrified screams of two children.

At first she thought she'd ride around to the front to help the men with the fire and then she saw the two pale faces at the window and made her decision. Already the heat from the fire was intense; gingerly she manoeuvred her mount as close to the wall as she could and then carefully stood up on her mare's back. Carefully using the muzzle of her rifle she knocked out the glass, the two children were cowering on the bed, "Come on!" she beckoned to them. Both seemed to be frozen with terror, but suddenly the boy moved, pulling the girl across the room.

"Take my sister," he said, pushing the little girl towards her.

She reached in and scooped the little girl into her arms, gently easing her onto the saddle, "Stay," she ordered, "I'll be back with your brother."

The boy was white-faced when she stood up again, "The flames are inside the room!" he whimpered. She could see them licking up the sides of the door.

"What are you waiting around here for?" she demanded. "Come on!"

Trembling he allowed her to lift him into her arms and she eased herself down into the saddle still holding the youngster. She set him in front of her and said, "Let me dismount and then we'll take you to your parents."

"I'm Jane," the little girl said, when she was standing at the horse's head, "this is my brother, Tom."

"A pleasure to meet you both," Elizabeth said.

She led the horse around the front of the house and stopped, a man and woman were holding one another and sobbing hysterically, but it was the group of men kneeling beside the supine figure that made her pause. The boy and girl spoke simultaneously, "Dad, Mum!" and the parents looked up shocked and then the children were slipping down from the animal's back and into the arms of the adults.

One of the men turned and Elizabeth gasped, "Artemus!" And then she had to stop herself being sick as she saw the figure the men were working on was none other than James West.

Artemus was on his feet and walking across to her, "It's Jim, Elizabeth," he said tautly.

Swallowing her nausea and fear, she walked across to the unconscious figure and knelt down. "What happened?" she asked softly.

"He went into the house after the kids," Artemus replied, "He was trying to break through the door when I finally dragged him out of the house. He's been badly hurt."

"How badly?" She finally asked.

"I don't know," Artemus swallowed, "some smoke inhalation, he was trying to break the door down with his bare hands when I found him. I had to use one of his own tricks on him-" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and he clarified, "pressure points."

Gently she examined him and then sat back on her heels, "Those burns are serious, Artemus." Turning to one of the men she snapped, "get me a bucket of cold water, cold as you can make it, and some sheets."

For a moment or two they looked nonplussed and then she felt Artie's hand firm on her shoulder and heard his voice say, "Do as she asks."

When the water arrived she tore the sheets in half and pushed them into the bucket, once they were soaked she took them out and began draping them over West's arms and face. "I'll need another clean sheet," she ordered. As the soaked sheets began to warm through, she carefully removed them and replaced them with the new ones, she was doing this for the second time when Artemus said, "Let me help."

"With pleasure," Elizabeth said softly, looking up. He knelt on the other side of his friend and began doing the same thing, they were replacing the sheets for the third time when he asked, "How long do we have to do this?"

"Twenty minutes," Elizabeth replied, her face white and tense.

"Then?"

"We move him to the doctor's office," Elizabeth managed a wan smile, "and leave him to be treated."

"I can think of no-one better equipped to treat him than you," Artemus replied, then his expression became sombre, "how bad is it, Elizabeth?"

She looked up at him, and shook her head, "I won't know that until I get him on the table."

Artemus nodded quietly. Elizabeth watched him for a couple of minutes and then turned back to her task. Finally she sat back on her heels and wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. "We'd better get him out of here."

Artemus nodded and lifted Jim into his arms as if he was a child, laying him gently in the back of the wagon. "I'll stay with him," he said shortly.

"I never expected otherwise," Beth replied, "you can keep an eye on his breathing."

Artemus knelt beside his friend and laid a hand on his shoulder. Beth eyed him thoughtfully as she climbed into the back of the wagon and knelt down on the other side of the unconscious man. "Jesus, Jim," she heard Artie mutter, "don't give up on me for Christ's sake."

The doctor was waiting for them when they arrived, "Everything's prepared," he began tersely, "if you could carry him inside and then I'll begin."

"Eliza- Dr Mackenzie is a qualified physician-" Artemus began and as the man's mouth twisted in a moue of disdain, Artie's lips thinned and he said, "Dr Mackenzie is Mr West's physician and she is in charge here."

"Not in my surgery-" the man began, but to Beth's everlasting joy she heard Artemus say, "then we'll find somewhere else. I'm sure there are any number of families who'd offer us a room to treat Mr West."

"She won't get any help from me!" the man snapped. "Or my assistant."

For an answer Artemus shrugged, "Then we'll rent a room in the hotel – can you treat him there, Beth?"

She nodded quickly, her eyes never leaving his face, and then suddenly one of the men said, "That's not necessary, Mr Gordon, my wife will be more than willing to give you our spare room, and assist you if necessary Dr MacKenzie," he turned to Beth, and then back to the doctor, "unless of course you're willing to allow Dr Mackenzie to treat her patient here Dr Wallace."

The doctor didn't react and the man said, "I'm Matthew Whelan, if you would follow me."

Matthew Whelan's house was a short distance from the physician's. He led them to the spare room, "Will this do, Dr MacKenzie?"

"I think so," Beth replied, managing a taut smile.

"I'm Cynthia Whelan," a woman came through from the kitchen, wiping her hands. "I have some nursing experience, I can assist you if you wish."

"I would appreciate that," Beth replied, "I need some items first, and then we can begin."

When she'd give the list to Mrs Whelan, Artemus touched her shoulder, "Give me something to do," he begged, "or I shall run mad."

She nodded and said quietly, "Go to Manafee, see if you can find American Knife and Dr O'Neill. I'll keep an eye on Jim."

He bent and kissed her forehead and then he was gone, leaving her with the unconscious man. Jim was still unconscious when Cynthia returned with the items Beth had requested. "I could use your help," Beth said, "copy what I do."

With Mrs Whelan standing on the other side of the bed, Elizabeth began preparing her materials, including the pillowcases, the wax paper and the jar of honey. Placing the two sheets of wax paper on top of the pillowcases she carefully laid them on top of the unconscious man's legs, then she washed her hands waiting until Cynthia did the same. Carefully she lifted Jim's wrist and with her other hand slid the paraffin paper and pillowcase beneath his arm. She took out a ladleful of honey and began to pour it over the arm. It ran over the skin and dripped down onto the pillowcase. She continued to pour the honey over the arm and hand, then she carefully bandaged his hand, being careful to wrap each finger separately then carefully lifting the edges of the paper to wrap it around the honeyed arm and hand. Cynthia copied her until Jim's arms and hands were covered in the honey, wax paper, and pillowcase and then bandaged. Beth stepped back and wiped the back of her arm across her forehead, looking up she could see that Cynthia Whelan was also perspiring, "Those burns look serious, Dr MacKenzie."

"They are," Beth replied. "However, I've seen honey work miracles."

Jim fought his way to consciousness, everything was fuzzy. He forced open heavy eyelids and stared up into Beth's familiar face, he swallowed and opened his mouth to speak, but he had no voice, her hand was on his head and she was holding a cup to his lips, "Drink slowly," she ordered.

Jim didn't have the energy to contradict her. Did she know he'd failed? That he'd fought his way up the burning staircase and tried to get to the children. He swallowed again, tears blurring his vision. Beth gently ran her hand through his hair "Try to sleep," she said softly, "we'll talk later."

Beth eyed the now unconscious man. Jim had roused briefly and drank some water, and she'd managed to get some laudanum down him but Beth hoped that Artemus would be bringing her colleagues back soon because she knew that the pain of his burns would rouse him sooner than she'd liked and there was no other pain relief she could use. She considered anaesthetizing him with chloroform but that too had risks. Closing her eyes, she sent a silent prayer heavenwards.

"Are you all right, Dr Mackenzie?" Cynthia asked quickly.

"Just concerned," Beth dredged a smile from somewhere.

"I can understand that," Cynthia replied, "will he be all right if you leave him for a little?"

Beth looked down at the unconscious figure of James West and nodded, "I think so."

She followed Cynthia down the hall to a well-equipped kitchen. Taking the coffee pot from the stove, Mrs Whelan poured them both a mug of coffee and pushed one across to Elizabeth.

Meanwhile, the boy peered around the corner. Seeing that it was clear, he turned back to the little girl standing next to him, "There's no-one around," he said, "come on, Jane."

Carefully Tom opened the door and gestured for Jane to enter the room, both children stood staring at the supine figure in the bed, his arms heavily bandaged and a thick yellow layer of Vaseline covering his face and neck.

It was pain that woke him the second time. He was in Hell – his face and arms burning up. Memories assailed him, him running into the house and trying to get up the stairs; flames licking at his arms and face; the air filled with the smell of burning wood as the fire took a firmer hold. He opened heavy eyelids and stared at the two figures standing next to the bed. His eyes filled with tears and he turned his face away muttering, 'No, no, go away. I tried to save you – I tried-"

"Tom, Jane, what are you doing here?" Beth had come back into the sick room followed by Cynthia.

Jane looked up, "We came to bring Uncle Jim some flowers," she held up the bunch of bedraggled blooms, "but he got really upset."

Cynthia put her hands on the children's shoulders, "Come with me to the kitchen, you can have a glass of milk and a cookie each. Come along."

Beth stepped around the bed and laid a hand on West's dark hair, "Jim, it'll be all right. I promise."

He shook his head and as he opened his eyes she saw the shine of tears and stroked her fingers through his dark hair, "Are you in pain?"

He nodded slowly, "Beth," he whispered, "I tried to save them – I really did."

"Jim, Jim, it's all right. Hush now."

"I – I keep seeing them, in my dreams – all the time." The tears ran down his cheeks and Beth gently stroked his hair again, "Jim, Jim, please. Everything will be all right."

He shook his head again and whispered, "Beth, please, make the dreams stop."

She stared into his sea-green eyes and ran her fingers through his dark hair, "I can give you something to help you sleep – to take away the pain."

"Yes," he whispered, "something to make me sleep. Stop the nightmares – forever."

She sighed under her breath and then nodded, turning away she measured out a dose of laudanum, just enough to send him back into a deep sleep.

Sliding a hand beneath his neck she held the cup to his lips, and watched his throat work as drop by painstaking drop was eased down his throat. She stroked his hair again and smiled at him as his eyes started to droop, "I tried you know," he whispered, "I tried so hard to save them."

"Oh Jim," Beth said softly, "go to sleep."

"I want to stop seeing them," he muttered. "I dream about them all the time-"

She laid the back of her first and second fingers against his eyebrow watching as the opiate took effect. I hope he'll forgive me when he wakes up. She stood up and a wry smile twisted her mouth. Sleep well, my friend.

It remained the longest night of her life, she and Cynthia took turns watching the unconscious man, Beth had a cot put up in the same room and lay down for a couple of hours while Cynthia kept watch over the drugged agent. She managed to doze although it felt as though she hadn't slept at all.

She was washing her hands at the sink when there was a soft tapping on the door, "Come in," she called quietly.

The door opened and as she turned she saw Artemus enter, followed by American Knife and Angharad O'Neill. Harry, she thought numbly, almost weeping with relief.

American Knife bent over the man, his handsome face taut with anxiety. "How has he been Miss Elizabeth?"

"He's in a lot of pain from his burns," Beth replied, "I've used honey to treat them and then bandaged them."

"I brought some of my herbs," American Knife replied, his eyes fixed on West's face, "they will help him rest and sleep."

"He believes that the children are dead – that it was his failure that killed them." Beth explained.

"Then we must rectify that as soon as possible," American Knife said sternly.

"Yes," Beth agreed.