The Arduous Wait
Nick's frustration grew the longer he stood at the beside. Heath's face now thoroughly washed of grime and dried blood, the paleness starkly apparent against the crisp white linen in the lamplight. "Where the devil is the doctor? He should've been here by now."
Jarrod agreed but chose to be the calm one again upon noting the brewing storm in Nick's demeanor. "I'm certain he'll be here as soon as he's able."
Nick pierced Jarrod with furious eyes … anger, a safe go-to emotion to avoid the uncomfortable ones clamoring in his head. "Heath might be dead before he arrives. I mean," he waved a hand at the boy in the bed, "look at him … he's whiter than the damned sheet."
"Nicholas, watch your language," Victoria admonished without any heat. She understood the deeper, more tender sentiments Nick attempted to hide with his bluster. Her second son was a passionate man with fire in his soul, and woe unto any who caused his family harm … either intended or unintended … as in Dr. Merar not arriving as quick as a flash.
"Sorry, Mother," Nick apologized as he raked fingers through his jet-black hair. His gaze returned to the blond interloper … his half-brother … ah hell, the boy who looked so much like the pictures of his father in his younger days. He couldn't deny what his heart now understood … Heath was his brother though they shared only one parent … a fallible one at that.
Nick didn't realize he spoke his next thought aloud until Jarod replied.
"I don't know who would shoot Heath and leave him to die, but I'm going to do everything in my power to find out and bring the person or persons to justice."
The determination with which his big brother spoke warmed Nick. "We are!"
"Right in here, Doctor," Audra's worried voice sounded from the hall to the relief of all in the room as Dr. Merar entered.
The good doc took one look and hurried forward. By coloring alone, he suspected the young man might've passed, which might be a blessing to this family. However, he set his valise down on the bedside table and placed skilled fingers on the carotid artery. As he waited to detect a pulse, his eyes surveyed the crease along the left side of the blond's head and quickly noted the injury wouldn't account for his patient's paleness.
While scanning the rest of the sheet-covered body for a telltale sign of the injury responsible for the blood loss, he recalled Barrett's words. 'The Barkley bastard done got himself shot, and they think he might need some doctoring. Would be better for the family if the backwoods colt never existed.' Spying the red stain forming on the sheet over the right side of Heath's abdomen, Thomas deduced the boy had been shot twice.
Detecting a weak and slow heartbeat, Thomas pulled down the linen and found cloth wrapped tightly around the lower abdomen, which covered the source of the crimson fringed by burgundy. Opening his bag and selecting scissors, he deftly cut the bandage to view the wound. Although no longer bleeding profusely, the inflamed entry hole still oozed enough to warrant concern over additional blood loss. Not wanting to roll his patient if unnecessary, Thomas asked, "Did the bullet go through?"
"No. When we discovered Heath unconscious in the road, we didn't take the time to check. While waiting for you to arrive, we cleaned him up and dressed his wounds as much as we could and didn't find an exit point," Jarrod said, acting as spokesman for the family.
"I see. Has he been conscious at all?"
"No. I thought he was dead when I found him on the ground," Nick answered.
Thomas nodded, wholly understanding Nick's conclusion. "I'm sorry to be forthright, but in my opinion, I do not think he will survive the surgery. He would hemorrhage and lose what little blood is left. And if I don't operate, the infection which has already started, … well, let me just say, perhaps it is best to make him as comfortable as we can with laudanum and prepare yourselves for the worst."
"Give him some of mine," Nick blurted without thought … well, actually with only one thought—don't let my brother die.
"It is not that easy. He is your half-brother, and even full-bloodied family members don't always mix well for some unknown reason. Transfusing him might kill Heath."
"But doing nothing certainly will," Nick declared as he glared at the doctor.
"Yes." Dr. Merar conceded.
"Then operate and use my blood. I'm not giving up on him. He's a Barkley … which means he is as stubborn as they come and will fight to stay alive." Nick pulled the small ladderback chair to the left side of the bed, sat, and began rolling up a sleeve.
"I concur with Nick. Better a small chance than none." Jarrod peered at his mother, spotting the liquid welling in her eyes.
"Please save him," Audra begged, tears freely flowing.
Thomas believed any efforts on his part to save Heath would be ineffective. Sadly, his years of experience told him his patient would most likely die from blood loss if he cut into him. And if he miraculously survived the operation, his body wouldn't be strong enough to fight off the rampant infection from being gut shot.
The young man who caused his dear friend such embarrassment and pain by revealing his existence and Tom's infidelity was not long for this world. So, in his learned opinion, putting Nick's life at risk didn't seem a prudent course of action. With his position based on cold-hard facts, Thomas appealed to the matriarch to back him up. "Victoria, transfusions are risky for the donor as well. Do you really want to risk your son's life …" he pointed to the bed, "for him?"
Fire sparked in Victoria's eyes, ready to fight for her newest son. Incensed at her old friend's reference to Heath as 'him', as if his life was worth less than Nick's, she sternly rebuked him, "Thomas, I never would've thought you to be so judgmental. Heath is Tom's son … and mine too now." Her eyes softened as they shifted to Nick, and she reached out to clasp his hand. "Thank you for willing to take this risk to save your brother."
Nick only smiled.
Her gaze hardening again, Victoria returned to Thomas. "I expect you to treat both of my sons with the utmost care."
Duly chastised, Thomas realized Barrett's constant disparagement of Heath on the ride here gave him the wrong impression of Tom's illegitimate son and the bond the family formed in the past few months. Each family member's reaction made it crystal clear they all embraced Heath as one of their own.
Contritely, Thomas said, "Victoria, I apologize for my unfortunate choice of words. I didn't mean to imply Heath isn't valued. I only wanted to advise you of the risks since Heath's chances of surviving are rather slim. However, I assure you, if you wish me to proceed, I will do my best to save Heath and keep Nick from having any ill effects from donating."
"That is all I can ask. Now, is there anything we can do to help?" Victoria asked as Silas entered, carrying a fresh bowl of warm water and several towels.
Thomas gazed around and noted this bedroom was half the size of all the others and didn't have a fireplace. "I will need Jarrod's and Silas's assistance and a bucket of hot coals. I might need to cauterize the wound. So, I believe it would be best if you and Audra waited downstairs."
"I'll gather the coals first," Silas said, then hurried out and down the back stairs.
"I want to stay here," Audra said as she stepped closer to the bed, her teary eyes on Heath's deathly still form.
Aware from personal experience of how horrible cauterizing a wound could be, the stench of burned flesh and the trauma of witnessing such an act, Victoria said, "Audra, I need your help in the kitchen. Nick and Heath will need broth to restore them."
"Steak for me … thick and juicy," Nick interjected.
A small smile came to Audra's face as she switched her gaze to Nick. "I'll make you a steak."
"On second thought, I'll wait for Silas to make me one. I'm not fond of your shoe leather."
Audra pursed her lips but didn't retort to the dig at her cooking. But in some small way, Nick's teasing made her feel like everything would be okay.
"Let's go, sweetheart." Victoria clasped Audra's hand and led her from the room.
Thomas withdrew a syringe-like chamber fitted with two tubes and other necessary items from his valise before rounding the bed to Nick. "I need to insert this transfusion cannula in Heath's cephalic vein, and then I'll attach the other end to your radial artery. Jarrod, I will require you to activate the pump to transfer the blood." He went on to explain the complete process to Jarrod and Nick as he prepared Heath's arm.
The medical terms flew in one ear and out the other for Nick as he gazed at Heath. Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders, comprehending he had a hell of a lot to make up for with regard to his brother. Giving him some blood was the least he could do and only a start. He hoped Heath would survive so he could make amends.
Jarrod began to pump just as Silas returned with a bucket of glowing coals and set it in on the floor. Dr. Merar handed his cauterization tool to Silas to heat, then withdrew his canister of ether and the mouth covering and placed them on the bedside table. Turning to the Barkley's majordomo, who had been his assistant on far too many occasions, he said, "Silas, do you remember how to administer the ether if Heath begins to rouse?"
"Yessir, Is shores does." Silas set a stack of towels within reach for the doctor before moving to the head of the bed and said a silent prayer he and Heath would once again enjoy their early morning chats in the kitchen. This kind, humble, and hardworking boy found a home in his heart. The poor boy experienced too much grief and trouble for one so young … had a rough upbringing as an outcast. Perhaps it is the hardships they both endured that forged their friendship.
Thomas picked up his scalpel as his gaze centered on the cognizant Barkley brothers. "I'm ready to start."
"Okay," Jarrod said though his words were unnecessary. Thankful Heath remained oblivious to the pain as Dr. Merar sliced into him, he continued to work the pump as instructed, sending Heath precious lifeblood.
At first, Nick couldn't tear his eyes from the wound as fresh blood flowed. But he switched to Heath's lax face as he prayed his younger brother wouldn't need more blood than he could supply. So focused on his fear he wouldn't get a chance to make things right between them, Nick lost track of time. But a clink of metal hitting metal made him turn his head, causing the room to tilt wildly and his world to blur.
"Nick!" Jarrod reached out to catch his brother and lean him back in the chair. "I think he's given his limit."
"Yes, yes," Thomas answered, distracted by a bleeder that began spurting once he removed the bullet from Heath's abdomen. "Silas, I need the cauterizer, quick."
Silas rushed to grab the tool. Unfortunately, in his haste, he kicked the bucket over, scattering several coals across the wooden floor. He handed the glowing implement to Dr. Merar, then used a wet towel to pick up the potential fire hazards.
With Silas focused on his task and the other three on the rush of blood coming from the wound, no one spotted Heath's lashes fluttering or the slit of blue showing. They only became aware of his consciousness when an ungodly howl rent the air, and Heath's body jerked upward when the red-hot tip of the instrument connected with his insides.
Lunging forward, Jarrod used his entire weight to press Heath into the mattress. Nick reached for Heath's arm and clamped hold on the spot where the transfusion tubing had been only a moment ago. Blood seeped through his fingers as he held fast, though he swayed in his seat. Coals forgotten, Silas rushed for the anesthetic but found it challenging to place the cone over Heath's mouth and sprinkle a bit of the ether as the boy bucked in agony. Thomas had his hands full, ensuring the implement didn't cause more damage as his patient withered beneath his hold.
Thankfully, Heath's body went limp within a minute from a combination of excruciating pain and sedative, but if asked, any of the four men present would tell you it felt more like an eternity and didn't happen soon enough. The screams still echoing in their ears, each man paused to stare at the motionless form for a moment. Thomas shook himself from his shock first, assessing the patient and noting the state of the cannula and Heath's arm.
"Jarrod, take over applying pressure for Nick. He's in no condition to continue. I'll address it once I finish with this wound."
Attempting to comply, Jarrod tried to move Nick's hands. "Brother, let go."
"No. I can hold … he doesn't have an ounce to spare."
Noting the sheen of sweat on Nick's brow and the determination in his brother's features, Jarrod didn't argue further, but he added his strength on top of Nick's with one hand while his other hand wrapped around Nick's shoulders and drew him close to steady him.
As Thomas expertly flushed the area with alcohol, hoping to reduce the infection before suturing the wound, he pondered the tightly twisted fabric he had found embedded deep in the hole when digging out the bullet. He had seen tiny wads inserted in wounds a time or two during the war … and they were effective in preventing soldiers from bleeding out, but nine times out of ten, they caused an infection, which ultimately led to death.
He wondered how someone as young as Heath would know anything about the technique. Regardless of how the cloth got embedded, Thomas unhappily speculated the young man traded a quick death for a slow, agonizing one. Making a final suture, Merar glanced at Silas. "You can halt the anesthesia now. I need you to lift the boy's shoulders so I can wrap a bandage around his midsection."
With extreme gentleness, Silas slipped his arm behind Heath and lifted him. His expression one of remorse for spilling the coals and not being on hand when Heath needed him, Silas vowed he would find a way to make it up to the youngin'.
The men remained silent as the doctor bandaged Heath's abdomen, and Silas lowered him to the mattress after Thomas completed the task. As Dr. Merar switched his focus to taking care of the transfusion sites on both Heath and Nick, Silas fussed with the covers, smoothing them over Heath's still form.
Once he finished wrapping Nick's wrist, Thomas retrieved an amber bottle and handed it to Jarrod. "Give Heath a spoonful when he wakes, and every four to six hours for pain. I've done all I can for Heath. It is a matter of waiting to see if his body possesses the strength to fight the infection."
Turning to the second Barkley son, the doctor grimaced, aware his words would likely go unheeded. "Nick, you must rest for at least two days and drink lots of fluids." Then as he began gathering his instruments to rinse in the bowl of warm water, he explained to Jarrod and Silas how to care for Heath.
As the doctor began to dry and pack his tools, Jarrod said, "I'll see you out once you are done and after I move Nick to his room."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Brother Nick, you heard Dr. Merar. You require rest."
"I'll rest right here," Nick insisted as he swayed a little and gripped the sheet to stay upright.
"That chair isn't fit for sitting in for long periods of time, and you're bound to fall out of it at any moment," Jarrod counted.
Silas offered, "I can move the wingback chair in here for Mister Nick."
Again, realizing it would be futile to argue since once Nick made up his mind, nothing and no one, with the exception of Mother, could change it, Jarrod conceded. "Okay, Silas."
Closing his valise, Thomas said, "Jarrod, I can find my own way out … you are needed here. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon to check on both Nick and Heath."
"Thank you. Your efforts are much appreciated."
"I sincerely hope Heath recovers," Dr. Merar said before taking his leave right as Silas returned.
Jarrod wrapped Nick's arm around his shoulders and assisted his brother to the padded, comfortable armchair. Silas slipped out and reappeared with an ottoman and a blanket. He removed Nick's boots and insisted Nick put his feet up before he covered his legs, finishing just as Miss Audra and Mrs. Barkley appeared in the doorway.
Shaken and pale from the earlier screams but trying to be strong like her mother, Audra halted at the doorway and stared at Heath. Unable to do anything for him at the moment, she focused on where she could make a difference. Drawing in a determined breath, she strode to Nick with the glass of orange juice and urged him to drink.
Victoria's heart shattered much like the China teacup she dropped when Heath's howl reverberated through the house. Entering after her daughter, Victoria perched on the edge of the ladderback chair and clasped her newest son's hand. "Heath, if you can hear me, please fight. We've only started getting to know you …" she trailed off as tears welled and a soft sob escaped.
Withdrawing a lace-trimmed handkerchief from her sleeve, she dabbed at her eyes as she gathered control over her emotions. Then, softly Victoria pleaded, "Oh, Heath, … please come back to us."
Jarrod rested his hand on his mother's shoulder, offering moral support as the family settled in for an arduous wait … each silently echoing Victoria's entreaty.
.
Notes: Please forgive any errors with 1870s medical treatment. I and my wonderful editor/beta reader researched transfusions from that time and tried to craft something reasonably accurate. Sorry about the long wait for this chapter, I sometimes get a bit over-ambitious and the story ideas flow faster than my ability to write them down. I currently have six irons in the fire so to speak as I write 3 Fanfiction stories, TREASURES Book 12 in the Beauty of Life series, WARRIOR'S HEART Book 4 in the Strike Force Zulu series, and Brockerick Chronicles: The Guardian Years (a prequel companion novel to the BoL series) ... all while juggling real life.
Happy reading ... and if you are new to my stories and enjoy what you read, you might want to check out my website ... lauraactonauthor dot com (use a . and remove the spaces)