Disclaimer: Magnificent Seven does not belong to me. This is fan fiction, not for profit. Any references to people, places, businesses, etc. are entirely fictitious.
Title: Sharp
Chapter 3: Triage
Warning: canon typical violence includes shootout, some OC death, gore and attempted abuse of crows…
…a hell of a fight…
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"Now I told you fellas…"
Buck's authoritative shout was interrupted by the sound of a shot. Nathan looked up from the white silk thread in his hands. A glance out the store window showed Buck in front of the jail. Dirt puffed up in front of the sheriff's feet.
"Felicity, would you take Nettie, Raine and the babies down into the cellar?"
Mrs. Potter's calm voice had Nathan look to the storekeeper next. Raine carried Jimmy towards the rear of the store. Nettie took Dora from Vin's hands and followed after. Vin moved to the front window to join Nathan.
"You would think folks might have something better to do on a Saturday morning," observed Vin.
"Seems like."
The sound of the shot sent some folks indoors, while the sound of danger called others out. Chris left the saloon's batwing doors swinging as he strode out onto the boardwalk. Josiah plodded out of the church. The big man frowned at the three men facing Buck. JD hurried out of the jail to stand next to Buck. Further down the street, Nathan could see Mary shooing Billy and Ben inside the Clarion, while Ezra sauntered towards the pending confrontation.
"Quentin…"
"Already got the rifle Ma," interrupted her son.
The youth stepped towards the front door, but Vin and Nathan were ahead him.
"Where's Otis?" asked Vin. "Don't seem like he's around a whole lot."
Vin's Texas twang sounded more curious than concerned. The deputy hired to fill the vacancy left when Vin turned in his badge was notably missing.
"Maybe on patrol?" answered Nathan.
And while Chris and Josiah had stepped outside to see what was going on, just like he and Vin did. Nathan didn't think the missing deputy was a concern either.
"Don't reckon Buck, JD and Ezra really need any help against just the three of 'em."
But then Nathan saw Vin's sharp eyes narrow. Nathan turned and squinted against the bright sunlight trying to see what had caught Vin's gaze. Riders coming… with the missing Otis looking somewhat the worse for wear; bruised, battered and tied up.
"What about ten of 'em?"
"They might need our help," agreed Nathan.
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"Ggllrrggh."
The last outlaw standing looked at Nathan. Frightened eyes blinked. The dying man looked down at the hilt of a knife just visible below his chin. The pistol in his hands dropped to the ground with a thud. The sound was followed by another thud as the bandit fell beside the weapon. Nathan didn't stop. His eyes scanned the embattled street. His concerned gaze settled on the two men nearest him.
"He alright?"
Vin looked up from the bandana he was tying around Chris's left thigh. The reddened pants leg along with the gunslinger's tight pressed lips told of an injury.
"He'll live," assured Vin.
"And you?"
Nathan eyed Vin's arm critically. There wasn't as much red on the tracker's sleeve as he saw on Chris's leg, but still… Vin had been shot.
"Ain't nothin'…"
"We'll both live," growled Larabee. The fast draw's worried gaze still on the folks clustered near the jail, he continued, "You go check on…"
"Buck, and the others," interrupted Nathan. "I'll get back to you fellas as soon as I can."
The physician turned away from the saloon. His long-legged stride quickly brought him to Josiah.
"Seems like you managed to make it through this fight without a scratch."
"Guess we're just lucky," replied Josiah.
Josiah tried to keep up with him, but Nathan didn't slow until he reached the jail. JD's pale face looked up at him. His hands pressed hard against Buck's upper chest. Despite the pressure JD applied, blood welled up through the cloth, reddening the space between his fingers. Ezra slumped sideways on Buck's other side. The gambler had one hand pressed against Buck's thigh. More blood. And the way Ezra was sitting, his left arm cradled in his shoulder holster, told Nathan the gambler's arm was dislocated… again. Behind them, Conklin sat on the jailhouse steps holding a hand against his bleeding forehead.
"JD, lemme…"
"Buck!" interrupted Louisa's voice. "Buck, honey…"
The worried woman hurried towards them. Buck's blue eyes opened.
"JD…," gasped Buck, "you get… Louisa… outta here…"
Buck's breathless words told Nathan more about Buck's wounds than the sight of all that blood.
"Caw! Caw! Caw!"
A worried Nathan turned, pulling another knife as he moved. The noisy crow landed between Nathan and Josiah. Nathan's throwing knife flew. The sharp implement stuck upright between the creature's talons. Wings fluttered. The frightened crow soared away, trailing black feathers.
"Sign," intoned Josiah's somber voice.
Nathan spun around. He glared at the mayor, his oldest friend.
"Josiah, you see any more crows, you shoot 'em," snapped Nathan.
The physician turned back to his injured friends.
"Ain't nobody else dying today," declared Nathan. "You hear me?"
Without waiting for an answer he turned towards Buck's lady friend. The political activist looked like she might faint. Nathan knew the best way to stop Louisa worrying was to give her something to do.
"Louisa, we need to move Buck," stated Nathan. "Get a stretcher from Mr. Hinkle."
"The undertaker?"
Her voice ratcheted up, high and shrill. If anything, Louisa's frightened face got even paler.
"Buck ain't dying," assured Nathan.
The only other stretcher in town was at the town hospital. Nathan didn't know where Chambers had disappeared to, but Nathan had noted the locked door on the hospital as he walked up Main Street. There wasn't time to go searching for the man, the keys, the other stretcher. Nathan needed to get Buck inside. He hadn't seen a chest wound that serious since Averal had shot Chris over a year ago.
"We need to hurry and Mr. Hinkle has the closest stretcher."
The physician turned back to Buck, JD and Ezra. The sound of footsteps running told Nathan Louisa was on her way. Now that the shooting had stopped, more folks were starting to come outside. Nathan knelt down beside Buck, getting a closer look at the injured man.
"Jail's closest, but…," began Nathan.
"Ain't gonna… die… in there… like Marshall Bryce," interrupted Buck.
"You ain't dying, and besides… that ain't even the same jailhouse," retorted Nathan. "And if you would let me finish, I'd have told you we were taking you to my place."
Nathan's tools and medicines were at home. And the long narrow table he and Raine used for meals had seen plenty of use for surgery before. And probably would see more.
"Glad… we got… that… settled."
Buck's rakish grin brought an answering smile to Nathan's face. The sound of footsteps hurrying back had him turning. Louisa hadn't just brought a stretcher; she'd brought Mr. Hinkle and his son too. Nathan beckoned them closer. While Josiah was stronger, the Hinkles moved faster.
"JD, Ezra, you keep pressure on those wounds," ordered Nathan. "Buck, we're gonna roll you over a bit to slide the stretcher under you…"
Blue eyes blinked, but Buck didn't say anything more.
"On the count of three," began Nathan. "One… two… three…"
Nathan sucked in a breath at the sight of more blood. Someone had shot Buck from behind! Buck groaned as he was settled back on the stretcher.
"Everybody lift..."
"Where you taking him?"
Nathan turned in surprise at the sound of Chris's voice. He hadn't thought the shootist would be up to walking. But the stubborn man wanted to check on his oldest friend. Vin and young Quentin Potter supported the rancher between them.
"My place," answered Nathan.
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Roughly three hours later, Nathan opened the front door of his home. Louisa had been pacing again. The sound of her heels clicked on the wood as she spun around at the creak of hinges. Her eyes asked what she dared not speak aloud.
"He's resting now," began Nathan.
Resting sounded better than unconscious. After all the wounds were cleaned, bullets removed, perforated flesh and torn muscles stitched, Nathan and Josiah had moved Buck to the bedroom. Nathan stepped outside. The four chairs he'd settled on the porch yesterday now held Chris, Vin, JD and Ezra.
"You can go…"
In a flash the woman was past Nathan. Inside, Nathan heard Raine's voice call Louisa into their bedroom. Nathan turned a practiced eye to the wounded men seated on his porch. And the women and children surrounding the front of his home. From the looks of it, Inez, or maybe Maude, had sent over some more chairs. Nettie and Mary sat near the foot of the stairs. Mary had a light crocheted shawl draped across her shoulders, the ends loosely dangling from her wrists crossed in front of her. The garment discreetly concealed her growing abdomen. Vin's daughter Dora sprawled on a blanket between the two women. The other corners of the blanket were anchored by Billy and Ben. Casey sat closest, on the topmost step. One small hand rested lightly on JD's boot. The quiet was broken by Chris's voice.
"How is he?"
Nathan wasn't gonna lie. Buck had been hurt bad. The sheriff still wasn't out of danger.
"Done what I could," was the only answer Nathan could honestly make.
He eyed the injured, thinking about who to treat next. Usually Nathan treated bullet wounds first, but Chris, Vin and JD seemed to be holding up well while waiting. Ez had a pinched look on his face. The gambler had been sitting with that shoulder out far longer than Nathan liked. This was the third time that Nathan knew of that Ezra's shoulder had gone out on him. Back in March, he'd made Ezra wear a sling for a week. A dislocated shoulder might not look as bad as a bullet hole, but left too long like that, the muscles wouldn't come back the same. The injury could cause permanent damage.
"Ezra, you're next."
"Huh?"
Ezra blinked, seeming startled to hear his name called. Nathan tilted his head in Mary's direction. He could see the moment when Ezra realized one of the reason's why Nathan had called for him. Mary shouldn't be sitting out in the hot sun in her condition. The gambler awkwardly rose to stand.
"Come on inside."
Nathan opened the door to the unoccupied front room. Josiah had gone out the back after they settled Buck in the bed. Raine, Jimmy and Louisa, were in the bedroom with Buck. Nathan pointed to the chair in front of the freshly scrubbed table.
"Have a seat and let me look at that."
Ezra hissed in pain as Nathan gently lifted the gambler's left arm, checking the range of motion. The physician continued talking, trying to get his friend to relax.
"The first time we rode together, you dislocated that shoulder," reminded Nathan. "Would have thought once was enough."
"Well yes but…"
A sharp inhalation interrupted whatever Ezra had been going to say. Nathan rolled Ezra's arm again, trying to determine the best way to align the arm with shoulder socket. The swollen muscles, stiff now from sitting so long out of place would make it harder to get settled.
"You know, our first meeting," continued Nathan conversationally, "I never understood why you refused to ride with Chris and Vin if I was going along…"
"What?"
Ezra looked up, seemingly genuinely puzzled.
"I don't remember saying that."
Nathan frowned. He'd thought Ezra's initial refusal to ride with Chris Vin and Nathan was due to prejudice. Nathan had thought they had worked past that. What was Ezra trying to pull now? Forgetfulness? Although, mused Nathan, Ezra had never really seemed to care about the color of Nathan's skin beyond that first conversation.
"You asked if I was riding too," reminded Nathan. "Said you weren't interested…"
The green eyes lit up. Ezra nodded in remembrance.
"When Chris was talking about five dollars…, and he had that gold amulet…"
"You remember now?" prodded Nathan.
"I said five dollars wouldn't pay for my bullets," agreed Ezra. "And that little chunk of gold… split four ways…"
"Four ways?"
Ezra laughed ruefully.
"If I'd thought that gold piece was going to be split seven ways… or worse yet, given back…"
Would Ezra ever have gone to the Seminole village then? For all that Ezra seemed to be driven by the desire for wealth, Nathan knew the gambler had walked away from a gold mine when he'd heard shots fired. And Ezra had turned back two years later when he had a coat stuffed with money. Nathan was still glad that money had been inside Ezra's coat, glad his friend lived.
"Life ain't all about money you know."
"Surely you jest…"
Nathan pulled hard. The muscles, and the man seated in front of him, protested.
"Augh!"
Nathan held tight, leaned back further. Ezra's mouth opened and closed in wordless pain. Finally, the bone slipped back into place.
"That… was… unkind," panted Ezra.
"Best I could do after it had been out so long."
Nathan reached for the wraps. He started splinting the shoulder and arm against Ezra's torso.
"Didn't go back in quick like that first time," reminded Nathan.
"No," huffed Ezra in agreement. "It hurts worse this time too."
"I don't want you moving this arm for three weeks…"
"Three weeks?"
Ezra's voice rose in disbelief.
"Ezra, I'm serious," declared Nathan. "You could lose the use of your arm if you don't let those muscles and tendons heal."
Green eyes widened.
"But…"
"When I take the wraps off, you can start some gentle exercise," continued Nathan. He grinned. "Maybe some of that one handed card shuffling you seem to like so much."
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"Mary, make sure he gets some rest," called Nathan. With any luck she'd get some rest too. "And you let me know if he tries taking that sling off…"
The physician watched Ezra make his way down the stairs. Mary, Billy and Ben joined the gambler. As the family headed to their home, Nathan turned to the men seated on his porch. Surprisingly, Ezra's chair was no longer vacant. And it wasn't Otis sitting there. The battered deputy had said he wasn't hurt that bad. He'd gone to man the jailhouse.
"Thought you went to see Chambers."
Conklin looked up at Nathan. He now held a cloth pressed against his forehead. But like the wounds on Chris, Vin and JD, the blood had dried to a brown smudge.
"He ain't tending to nobody," grumbled Conklin. "Chambers is in the saloon; says he's leaving town on the next stage."
"Phht!"
Nathan shook his head and turned to the anxious man seated beside him.
"Can you walk on that leg Chris?
"Ain't running no races, but I can get inside," answered the fast draw. "Need to see how Buck…"
"You ain't wakin' him up."
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"That dang rogue…"
"Sheriff Wilmington saved your life," snapped Nathan.
Nathan rarely spoke in anger. But it was the third time that the odious man had referred to Buck in such a disparaging manner. Nathan didn't even try to hide the annoyance in his voice. The physician pulled the needle through the tender skin alongside the ungrateful wretch's forehead and tugged to close the gash. Conklin gave a little hiss of pain.
"That hurts!" complained the fussy man.
"You came to me because you know that cut will hurt worse if I don't sew it up, take longer to heal too," reminded Nathan.
The last of the injured men, Conklin hadn't been shot. The frightened man had hit his head when he backed away from the additional outlaws riding into Four Corners earlier. Conklin had fallen. Buck had taken the brunt of the attack. The sheriff stepped into the road between the outlaws and Conklin. Normally, the agile man moved, weaving in and out of any gunfight, making it hard for anyone to get a shot at him. Today, Buck stood still.
"Buck wouldn't have been hurt if he hadn't been protecting you."
Nathan glanced through the open door into the bedroom. Raine sat between their bed and the cradle, gently rocking their son. Raine's compassionate brown eyes gazed at the bandaged man moving fitfully on their bed. On the other side of the bed, Louisa Perkins sat holding Buck's hand. Since surgery finished, Buck's lady friend hadn't left the sheriff's side. A constant litany of 'wake up now Buck… let me see those pretty blue eyes… Buck…' murmured softly from her lips.
"Can't that woman shut up?" snarled Conklin.
"Some folks think talking to an unconscious person helps," informed Nathan.
Beside Louisa sat a stubborn gunslinger. Despite the stitches in his leg, Chris wasn't going anywhere until he'd seen Buck open his eyes. After six stitches to close the furrowed gouge on his bicep, Vin had left, taking Nettie, Casey and Dora back to the ranch. The tracker had promised to stop by Chris's cabin to let Maria know not to worry about Chris staying in town tonight. Nathan tied off the end of the silk thread in his hands.
"Did you see who came up behind Buck?"
And wasn't that a strange reaction to a simple question? Conklin pulled back from Nathan, turned and looked away before mumbling.
"I didn't see nothin'."
Nothing? That didn't sound right to Nathan. The physician remembered walking up Main Street after the shootout. Remembered seeing JD, Buck, Ezra on the ground in front of the jail… seeing Conklin just behind them. Buck had been shot three times… and one of those bullets came from behind.
"JD," called Nathan.
Leaning against the wall, JD looked up from his vigil.
"Would you come here?"
"Huh?"
"And quit rubbing your forearm," ordered Nathan.
JD had a small graze, barely needed the three stitches Nathan had sewn, but the wound probably itched a lot. The young deputy closed the bedroom door almost all the way as he joined Nathan.
"What do you need?"
Nathan stepped back from Conklin. The physician crossed his arms over his chest.
"I need you to ask Mr. Conklin here how he couldn't see who shot Buck in the back."
JD's dark eyes narrowed. He frowned at Conklin. Nathan could almost see him replaying the shootout in his mind.
"From where Conklin was sitting, I reckon he had to have seen something," continued Nathan. "That wound didn't bleed enough to block his vision."
"Maybe he hid his face," suggested JD with a shrug.
The look on Conklin's face!
"I ain't a coward," snarled Conklin.
"What were you doing over at the jail anyway?" asked JD. "Thought you were busy showing that Chambers fella around."
"Those hired guns came into town early, I wasn't supposed to be in the middle…"
JD's eyes widened. He and Nathan both spoke at once.
"In the middle?"
"How would you know?"
JD leaned in close. His face mere inches from the older man. Conklin gulped. He leaned away, his eyes glancing left and right. Looking for an escape route wondered Nathan. Why? The man's next words, blurted out in a seeming defense, answered the physician's question.
"Setting up Wilmington wasn't my idea!"
"You want to tell me whose idea that was?"
JD's voice gave Nathan a shiver.
"Ain't tellin' you nothing!"
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Notes:
Nathan and Raine's son is named for two African-American doctors:
Dr. James Durham (or Derham), born in slavery in 1762, bought his freedom and began his own medical practice in New Orleans, becoming the first African-American doctor in the United States.
Dr. James McCune Smith graduated from the University of Glasgow 1837, becoming the first African American to earn a medical degree.
And Ezra took bets on the child's name... most people picked Natalie or Summer if the baby was a girl, Eban or Obadiah if the baby was a boy. The winnings were placed in a bank trust for Jimmy's education.