CHAPTER 13
"Help him inside, Corporal," Michaela instructed, holding the door open for Corporal Green to assist Sully, who appeared very unsteady on his feet, even stumbling over the threshold.
"Is he gonna be alright, Dr. Mike?" Private Curtis asked as he carried some of Michaela's belongings into the Casa De Lando, the small hotel in the tiny town of Bowie.
"I don't know, Private Curtis," Michaela answered, her eyes trained on Sully. "But I assure you, I will do everything in my power to make sure."
"Dottoressa Quinn!" a voice called from within the establishment.
Michaela turned and smiled at her Italian friend, Lina De Lando, whom she had befriended during her long stay as she waited for transport five months before. She and her husband, Matteo, owned the hotel.
"Lina, how are you?" Michaela greeted with a smile, though immediately sobered and turned to glance again at Sully, who was weaving a little as the corporal helped him stand.
"I hope you have room...we need to get the lieutenant in a bed. He's been injured and..."
"Yes, of course, Dottoressa Quinn," the woman interrupted, concerned. "Please, do bring him in here," she instructed the corporal, leading the way to a downstairs room. The corporal obliged, maneuvering his superior officer inside and helping him lie down on the bed.
"What has happened to him?" Lina asked as she stood back, watching the proceedings.
"There was an incident..." Michaela began, glancing at the private, not wishing to make the young man feel worse than he already did. "A rifle discharged accidentally, the bullet grazing the lieutenant's neck. I'm afraid it's becoming infected." Glancing at the corporal, who was still assisting Sully, she added, "What concerns me is he is still recovering from a recent bout with poison, fever, and extreme loss of blood..."
" Oh, Santo cielo!" the woman murmured, shaking her head and quickly making the sign of the Cross. "The poor man! Tell me what it is that I can do to help. My husband and I are at your service," she vowed in her charmingly warm Italian accent, turning to direct the private to carry Michaela's trunk to the room next door to Sully's. Just then, her husband came from the back part of the hotel.
"I appreciate that," Michaela replied sincerely. "If you could bring me some hot water, and also show me where I can get some cloth to make clean bandages, or at least wash the ones I have, I..."
"I will take care of that for you, my friend!" Lina immediately interjected. "My husband and I owe you so much...the way you took care of our son's leg when you were here last. He is as good as new. We are in your debt."
Matteo nodded in full agreement. "I will bring you the hot water, immediatamente," he offered as he saw the condition of the lieutenant. He turned and quickly retraced his steps back to the kitchen.
Michaela smiled and clasped her friend's hands for a moment. "Thank you, Lina. And I'm very pleased to hear your son is recovered."
The woman smiled sincerely, and glanced at the bed where the lieutenant lay with his eyes closed, a large bandage around his neck and one at the back of his head. She crossed herself again and quickly left to fulfill the doctor's requests for clean bandages.
The corporal, cap in hand, stared at the lieutenant, glanced at Michaela, then back at the lieutenant again, clearly unsure of his next move. The original orders had been for the three soldiers to deliver the lady doctor to Bowie and immediately head back to the fort.
"Um...Lieutenant, sir..." he began softly.
Michaela moved near the bed, reaching for one of Sully's wrists to begin taking his pulse while surreptitiously watching the corporal's expressions. Sully opened his eyes a bit and looked at the corporal, one hand lifting to his head. "Yeah?" he whispered.
"Um...me and Private Curtis'll check on you later..."
Sully acknowledged him with slight nod, wincing as his stitches pulled.
"Thank you, Corporal Green," Michaela responded.
"You, uh, take good care of the lieutenant, Dr. Mike," the man added as he placed his cap on his head.
"I surely will, to the best of my ability," she vowed, meaning those words with everything in her heart.
She watched as he turned once more to Sully, crisply saluting his stricken superior.
Sully weakly turned the hand at his head to return the corporal's salute, watching as the man quietly went out the door and closed it behind him.
Hearing the corporal's steps down the hallway, Sully began to sit up, relieved. "Good, now I can..."
"No, no – you lie back down. We must be careful," Michaela cautioned quietly, moving quickly to lay a hand on his chest to prevent him from rising.
"Aw, Michaela. This thing's aggravatin' me," he groused, tugging at the tight bandage around his neck.
"Here, let me see," she offered, reaching with practiced fingers to check the progress of his wound.
"Your wound is beginning to heal, thank God. Stop that..." she ordered, lightly smacking at his hands as he tried to peel the bandage from around his head. She fought to suppress the urge to smile at the little-boy pout he displayed.
Giving up, he settled back down, submitting as she lit the bedside lamp and held it close to his face and neck. He gazed up at 'Dr. Mike' as she fussed over him, truly one hundred percent the physician. But he wasn't seeing a medical doctor - though he knew she certainly was a good one...he was allowing his eyes to caress her face and hair.
After a few moments, she met those eyes and smiled gently. "I've thought of a plan...I can give you something..."
He searched her eyes, murmuring, "Yeah, what?"
"It's called 'Tincture of Opium,' a strong form of Laudanum. It will make you sleep, lower your heartbeat – it will look as if you're dead. Anyone who observes you will be convinced. Then twelve hours later it will wear off."
His brow furrowed as he considered this. Glancing at the door, his eyes met hers again. "Is it dangerous?"
"Well...I have to be precise. If I give you too little it won't work. If I give you too much...you won't wake up," she finished softly, pressing her lips together and pushing away that thought. She wouldn't let that happen.
The thought slightly unnerved him. "Well, how do you know how much to..." he paused, gesturing with one hand.
"The dosage is figured by age and body mass..."
"Michaela, I don't know about this...I mean, if you get caught...you could go to prison," he murmured, vowing that he would move heaven and earth to prevent that from happening. I shouldn't 'a got her involved in this, he upbraided himself silently.
"I know," she conceded, lowering into to a chair beside the bed. "It's up to you, Sully. I'm willing if you are...unless you've changed your mind?" she murmured, one eyebrow arched.
Picturing once again the horrible scene resulting from the consequences of his actions that fateful night, a shudder reverberated down his spine. He vowed that no one would ever know the whole story of what happened that night – not even Michaela. "No...I ain't changed my mind," he admitted with a sigh.
Meeting her eyes, he determined to put his trust...his life...in her hands. Swallowing dryly, he murmured, "When should we do it?"
She swallowed a little dryly herself. "I'll go ahead and figure the dosage now...and give it to you later this evening."
Michaela reached for his hand, taking it in both of hers.
Knowing once they took that step there would be no turning back, their eyes locked as they each wondered what would transpire once they put their plan into action.
OOOOOOO
Michaela, a handkerchief delicately pressed to her mouth, stepped out of the hotel's front door. Trembling, she gazed around in the darkness until she spied the fort's wagon parked in the open space past the end of the street, the two troopers sitting by a campfire partaking of their evening meal.
Drawing a knitted shawl around her against the surprisingly cool night breeze, she moved toward them with her heart pounding, and her hands perspiring with nervousness. This simply MUST work, she whispered to herself, knowing the success of the plan rested almost entirely on her shoulders.
"Corporal Green?" she ventured when she was close enough.
Both men looked up from their plates expectantly. Noting her expression, however, their faces fell as their hearts sank with dread.
"Yeah, Dr. Mike?" the corporal murmured, setting his plate aside and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his heart hammering.
"Could...could you come?" she asked softly, pressing the hanky once again to her lips.
Both men immediately rose to follow her back to the hotel, their hearts heavy and afraid of what they would find when they entered the lieutenant's room.
Michaela said nothing, just led the way.
She opened the door, her heart squeezing as she saw the very convincing sight of Sully lying motionless. The troopers crossed to the bed, caps in hand, and stared down at the man they both respected.
"I'm afraid after surviving such a serious infection and the recent loss of blood..." she paused, leaving the rest unsaid. They both nodded.
Feeling he should do something to 'make sure,' the corporal stepped closer and bent down, placing his ear against the wool uniform covering Sully's chest. He heard nothing, but was surprised the body was still fairly warm.
"It must have just happened, huh?" he murmured softly.
Michaela nodded and wrapped the shawl tighter around her body, lowering her eyes to the man on the bed as she relived the stomach-dropping moment when Sully had closed his eyes and slipped into unconsciousness. That was the second time in two weeks I've watched him do that... she mused, a shudder passing through her at the thought.
"I killed 'im," Private Curtis whispered, big tears welling up and spilling over onto his boyish face. With his red hair and freckles, he seemed hardly old enough to be a soldier, much less man enough to carry a burden like this.
"God in Heav'n...I KILLED THE LIEUTENANT!" he shouted suddenly, turning and fleeing from the room.
Michaela's gentle heart twisted at the young man's unnecessary anguish and she nearly went after him to tell him the truth. Only the corporal's hand on her arm stopped her.
"I'll go after him," he murmured.
She nodded, the weight of her choice pressing heavily on her conscience. "I'll arrange for the coffin," she whispered, lips dry from nerves.
The corporal nodded, glanced once more at his superior, then turned and went after his troop mate – though he wasn't sure what comfort he could be, realizing the poor kid was going to have to live the rest of his life knowing his carelessness took an innocent man's life. I wouldn't be surprised if they court-martialed him for this.
Just then, Lina appeared in the doorway, disturbed by the private's shouts, and stood open-mouthed staring at the handsome lieutenant now lying dead.
"Oh! Maria Vergine!" she whispered, quickly making the sign of the Cross and placing her hand against her mouth in shock. "What happened Dottoressa Quinn?" she asked softly.
Michaela quickly weighed her options. She knew she would need an accomplice, and she sincerely hoped her usual ability to judge character wasn't about to let her down. She motioned for the woman to come on inside and shut the door.
Lina did so, slowly approaching the doctor standing next to the lifeless body on the bed.
"Lina...what I am about to tell you now cannot leave this room. I hope I will not be proven wrong...but I'm going to trust you..." Michaela began, her eyes imploring the other woman to understand...and sympathize.
The woman looked from Michaela to the lieutenant and back again.
"Trust me? Dottoressa Quinn...I give you my word, I will not tell a soul anything that you tell me if that is your wish," she declared with the utmost sincerity.
Michaela searched her eyes a few more moments and then she released a sigh of tension.
"First let me ask you...is there a person in town in charge of preparing coffins?"
"Sì, our blacksmith always performs this task."
"Good. I need for him to build one and bring it here, as quickly as possible."
"Sì, I will tell him to make it più in fretta che può," Lina nodded, her eyes repeatedly glancing at the completely still lieutenant.
"And...can you arrange for one hundred or more pounds of grain or feed to be delivered here?" Michaela asked, biting her lip as she waited for the response.
Lina's eyes furrowed for a moment as she considered this request. Then they grew wide and she gasped, "The lieutenant...he is not dead?"
Michaela shook her head, and then reached out to grasp the woman by the hand, drawing her to a pair of chairs across the room. When they were seated, Michaela told her as much of the story and reasons as was necessary to get her to understand why Sully – and she as his friend – felt they had no other choice.
Nodding, Lina murmured, "Sì, I understand why the kind lieutenant could not bear this on his...coscienza...how you say in English?"
"On his conscience. Yes, that is exactly it. But...if the truth is discovered...both he and I could go to prison..." she cautioned.
The woman's eyes grew wide again. "Not one word will pass from me, on my honor, Dottoressa Quinn. I will not even tell my husband!"
Michaela smiled softly, leaning to give the kind hotelier a hug.
"Thank you, Lina," she whispered.
The other woman quickly stood and moved toward the door, calling softly over her shoulder, "I will return subito, and with everything you will need!"
Michaela watched the door close behind her, then closed her eyes and prayed she had made the right choice.