Mail Order Bride: Westward Christmas Novel (Montana Mail Order Brides, Book 11) (19 page)

              You don’t know how much I want to be with you, but I can’t live the way you do and I don’t agree with some of your customs.  You can’t live in my world, either, so this is the best thing for both of us.  Seeing you around town and not being able to hold your hand or kiss you anymore would be torture for me. 

              You’re a wonderful man and I hope you find someone who will make you happy and who can accept your way of life.  You deserve the best that life has to offer you and I hope that Wakan Tanka blesses you with someone to love and many children.  Take care of yourself and try not to be too reckless. 

Fondly,

Rachel

              Reckless finished reading and didn’t know how to feel about Rachel’s departure.  He knew there would never have been any reconciliation between them, but he hadn’t expected to never see her again.  He sighed as he put the letter back in the envelope.  Reckless had enjoyed his time with Rachel and wasn’t going to waste time on regret concerning their relationship.  Now it was time to put it behind him, as she was doing.  That was the wise way to handle the situation.

              He looked at Sammi and saw how upset she was.  His keen night vision let him see the frown lines around her mouth and between her eyebrows that were not usually present on her pretty face.  There was a haunted look in her eyes and he could only imagine how hurt she was by Rachel’s leaving.

              “I’m so sorry, Sammi,” he said.

              Sammi looked at the ground and said, “Yeah, me, too.  Well, I better get going home.  I just wanted to give that to you.”

              “All right.  Are you okay?” Reckless asked.

              Sammi shook her head.  “No.  Not really.  I keep asking myself what I did wrong with her.”

              Reckless moved closer and looked down at Sammi.  “You did nothing wrong.  I think her parents’ death hurt her in ways we don’t know.  I hope she finds peace someday.  You are a good mother, Sammi.  Just look at your boys and Skye.  They’re good kids because of the way you and Mitch are raising them.”

              Sammi looked him in the eye.  “Thanks.  You would have made a good son-in-law, Reckless.  Whoever you marry is gonna be a lucky woman.”

              He smiled at her.  “That means a lot coming from the woman who attacked me.”

              “I’m so sorry about that, Reckless, especially knowing that she lied about you and caused you so much trouble,” Sammi said.  “Damn it!” she said as a tear escaped her eye.

              “We have already settled that, Sammi.  It is over and done.  Let’s not waste any more time on it,” Reckless said. 

              She nodded and swiped at the tear.  “Okay.  Well, have a good night.  Keep me posted on Ben, okay?”

              “Sure.  Do you want me to walk you home?” Reckless said.

              “No, thanks,” Sammi said.  She appreciated the offer, but the person she wanted to walk her home wasn’t around.  “See ya.”

              As she walked away, Reckless wished there was something he could do to comfort her, but he didn’t know what it would be.  He sighed as he looked down at the letter in his hand.  One thing he did know was that he would not involve himself romantically with a white woman again.  This was not because he was prejudiced in any way. 

Reckless wished to avoid another situation arising like what had happened with Rachel.  No, he needed to find a woman who shared his beliefs and who understood and abided by them.  Reckless went back into the bar to see if Jake wanted help cleaning up.  As he did so, he prayed that Rachel would someday find what she was looking for.

              Marcus looked over Ben’s forearm and hand and was not happy about what he saw.  He tried not to touch it too much, but he had to examine it properly.  It was a good thing that Ben had taken laudanum already so that the pain was lessened somewhat.  His whole forearm was very puffy and severe bruising had set in.  He agreed with Ben that the third metacarpal was most likely fractured and the ulna up near the wrist was definitely broken.  Marcus also diagnosed Ben with a slight concussion.

              “We need to perform a reduction of the ulna, Ben.  I felt a fragment as I was manipulating it.  It feels fairly large, so we should be able to align it correctly.  As you know, it’s gonna hurt like crazy.  I think it would be best to put you out.  I’ve sent Claire for Hannah to help me,” Marcus said.  His gray eyes were filled with concern and sympathy.

              Ben said, “Yes.  I think that’s the best course of action.  I hope the closed reduction works.  I’m the only one around here who can perform an internal reduction and I obviously can’t do it.”  He attempted to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it.

              Sasha held his good hand as she sat near the exam table where Ben sat.  He squeezed her hand and looked at her, glad for her presence.  Ben was scared.  If his hand and forearm didn’t heal properly, he may not be able to perform surgery anymore.  It was his specialty and for him to lose that ability would be agony for him.

              “Okay,” Marcus said.  “I’ll start getting ready so that when Hannah gets here we can do the reduction.  Just relax for now.  I’ll be back shortly.”

              Marcus went into the waiting room where several people sat.  He gave them a rundown on Ben’s condition.             

              Joe blew out a breath and said, “What are the chances that this is gonna heal well for him?”

              This was the question on all their minds.  Marcus remembered having those questions about Seth when he’d been severely injured.  He told them what Doc Turner had told all of them at the time.

              “There’s no way of knowing.  Time will tell.  We’ll have to see.  If it’s not coming along as it should, we may have to think about him going somewhere else for surgery since we don’t have anyone around here that’s qualified.  For now though, Hannah and I are going to do everything we can to get it aligned correctly,” he said.

              Rebecca said, “We have faith in you, Marcus.  You know that.”

              His smile was grim.  “Thanks.”  He knew all too well what was at stake and felt immense pressure.  Marcus had set numerous bones over the years, but this was different.  “Well, I have to prepare.  I’ll let you know how it goes.”

              Three days later, Marcus was surprised to see Ben back at work in the clinic.  Ben had been going stir crazy at home.  The effects of the concussion had subsided and his arm felt slightly better.  The laudanum helped, but Ben didn’t take any the morning he came back to work because he wanted to be alert and not laughing his head off.

              Marcus made him some willow bark tea and sat it in front of him.

              “Thanks, doc,” Ben said with a smile.

              “Don’t get used to me serving you,” Marcus joked.  “So we have a full plate today and who knows what else will come through the door.  I hope no babies decide to be born today.  If they do, we’ll send Mike.”

              Ben laughed.  “Something tells me that he won’t like that much.”

              “He’s gotta do it by himself sometime.  I did when I was his age,” Marcus said.  “I had no medical training besides what Doc gave me and what I’d learned from Lydia.  Mike’s got a brain like an encyclopedia.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  He says he just flips through the pages of books in his mind until he finds what he needs.  He’s going to pass all of his classes with incredible ease.”

              “Don’t I know it?  He actually lectured me about a couple of things last week that he’d read about.  It can be annoying,” Ben said.

              “Yet beneficial,” Marcus responded. 

              “Agreed.  Well, I guess I’d better get to it,” Ben said.  He got up and shook his head.  “All of the fighting I’ve done and I never injured my hands.  One fall down the stairs and this happens.”

              Marcus nodded.  “It was a freakish thing, all right.  Well, you’ll be on the mend soon.  Just take it easy with that thing.”

              “You can count on it,” Ben said, and started his day.

              Over the next week and a half, Sasha began to notice a change in Ben.  He was slightly withdrawn and didn’t smile as much.  She knew that his injuries hurt and that he hated her having to help him with things, but it seemed like more than that.  One night she tried to talk to him about it.

              “Ben, what’s wrong?  I mean outside of the obvious,” Sasha said as she sat willow bark tea on a table beside his sofa.  She settled beside him and rested her hand on his knee.

              Ben stifled the sarcastic remark that was on the tip of his tongue.  “My future is in jeopardy, Sasha.  My professional future.  I’m a surgeon, but if I can’t use my hand, I can’t operate.  If that happens, I’m just a general practitioner.”

              Sasha knew how important being able to operate was to him.  “I know you’re worried, but you have to give things a chance to heal.  It’s too soon to be alarmed, Ben.”

              He nodded and forced a smile.  “I know that you’re right.  It’s the same thing I tell patients all the time.  I haven’t been a patient in a long time, so I’m out of practice and I’m afraid that I am quite impatient about it.”

              “I won’t pretend to understand how you’re feeling.  That would be condescending and insensitive of me.  However, I am here for you.  Talk to me or feel free to rant and rave about the situation,” Sasha said.

              Ben laughed.  “I appreciate the offer and I might take you up on it sometime.”  He sobered.  “Do you know what really worries me?”

              “What?” she said.

              “What if someone needs surgery while I’m healing and they die because I can’t operate?” he replied. 

              Sasha’s only answer to that was, “We’ll just have to hope that nothing like that happens.”

              Ben’s worst fears were realized when a young woman named Velma Dalton was brought into the clinic a couple days later with a case of appendicitis. 

              “I can’t do the surgery,” Ben said.  “You’re going to have to do it, Marcus.”

              “I’ve never done an appendectomy, Ben,” Marcus said.

              “I’ll walk you through it.  Today you’ll be my student,” Ben said.  “Get Hannah and we’ll get prepped.”

              Marcus balked.  “I did some surgeries in school, but that was how long ago now?  I don’t feel confident about performing it.”

              “No one feels confident about operating the first few times.  Hell, I don’t always feel confident, but that’s a good thing, Dr. Samuels,” Ben insisted.  “Do you know why?  Because it makes you more careful about what you’re doing.  We don’t have all day to stand here debating it.  Get Hannah and let’s get prepped.  This girl’s life hangs in the balance and we’re all that stands between her living or dying!”

              Marcus took a deep breath and said, “You’re right.  Let’s go.”

              After the successful surgery had taken place, both Marcus and Ben were frazzled and exhausted.  They changed clothes and entered the office where they sat down.  Neither of them spoke.  Marcus pulled out the bottom drawer of his desk and got out the scotch he kept there and two cups.  He poured them each a healthy dose of alcohol and gave one to Ben.

              This was not a common practice for the doctors, but after the nerve wracking past few hours, they both needed the bracing beverage.  Marcus’ hand shook as he poured the drinks, and he was grateful that his hands had been steady during the procedure.

              Hannah entered the office and Marcus poured her a drink.  She sipped on it as she sat at her desk.  None of them said anything.  Marcus gave Ben a quick glance and noticed the anger simmering in his eyes.  His mouth was pursed and his one leg jiggled in agitation. 

Ben downed the rest of his scotch and said, “Well done, Marcus.  Now you know how to do an appendectomy.  You might have to do all of them from now on, so it’s good that you’re familiar with them.”

“Ben, you don’t know that yet.  Give yourself a chance—”

Ben actually snarled.  “Don’t even say it.  Just spare me.  It’s just a good thing that you weren’t called away on some other business today or that poor girl could have died because I was unable to operate!”

Marcus remained calm in the face of Ben’s anger.  “But I
was
here and that’s what counts, Ben.  She’s going to be fine because of you.  What if
you
had been somewhere else today and couldn’t instruct me on how to do it?  Playing a game of ‘what if’ doesn’t accomplish anything.”

“Maybe not, but it’s not your professional future on the line, Marcus.  It’s mine.  So it’s fine for you to sit there and spout platitudes, but I have to face the all too real possibility that my career as a surgeon may end!”  Ben threw his empty cup.  It bounced off the wall in back of Marcus and narrowly missed the other doctor.

“Hey!” Marcus objected as he dodged the missile.

Ben rose, snatched his coat and left the clinic.  He walked to the livery stable, had Stew saddle Othello and mounted awkwardly.  Once he was in the saddle, Ben was fine.  It was just getting there.  He had no trouble guiding the horse one-handed.

              He was supposed to go to Sasha’s that evening, but he was not good company and so he decided to go home.  Once there, Ben was able to get his horse unsaddled and put away without too much trouble.  Going into his apartment, Ben got a fire going in his parlor, bedroom, and kitchen.  Then he went into the dining room and pulled out a bottle of fine bourbon he’d had Jake order for him and proceeded to drink half of it.

              Sasha had waited for Ben, but he didn’t show up at her house.  She grew more concerned as the time passed.  Finally, she could wait no more and saddled Ingrid.  The swift mare made the trip to the Watering Hole quickly.  She went up the outside stairs and knocked.  Ben didn’t come to the door even though she knocked twice more.  She opened the door and called to him.

              Very frightened for his welfare, Sasha went inside and started looking for him.  She found him sitting in the parlor on one of the wing back chairs.

              “Ben?  Are you all right?” Sasha said as he looked at her.

              “I’m right as rain, sugar,” Ben said. 

              She heard that cruel bent to his words she didn’t like.  “I waited for you tonight.  And just now, I was knocking on your door.  Didn’t you hear me?”

              “Yes, I heard you, and I’m afraid that I’m not fit for company tonight,” Ben said.

              “So instead of telling me that, you let me think the worst?  That you might be hurt?” Sasha said.  As she came closer to him, she could smell the liquor on him and saw the mostly empty bottle of bourbon sitting on the table by him.

              “Guess what happened today?” he asked as he brushed away her question.  He laughed a little.  “I sound like Mike.  He’s always saying ‘guess what’.  You’ll never guess.”

              Sasha sat on the ottoman in front of his chair and said, “No, I probably won’t.  Tell me.”

              Ben took another large swig of bourbon and grimaced at the burning of his esophagus. 

              “A poor young lady was brought in to us today with appendicitis and needed surgery,” Ben said.

              “Oh no,” Sasha said.  Not only was she concerned about the patient, but she knew that this was the reason Ben was drunk and surly.

              “Oh, yes.  I couldn’t do it, of course,” he said. 

              Sasha was afraid to ask, but did anyway.  “What happened?”

              “I became an instructor to Marcus and guided him through the procedure.  The girl will be fine,” Ben said, and drained his glass.  He went to pour more into it, but Sasha stopped him.

              “Ben, I think you’ve had plenty,” she said.

              “Have I?  I don’t think so,” he said, and poured more.

              Sasha sighed.  “You should be happy that everything went so well today.  You helped save her life, Ben.”

              “Yes, I did.  And I am happy for her sake.  Oh, and now Marcus can do that particular surgery, so there’s another positive result from this,” Ben said.  “But the fact remains that I’m no good right now as far as surgery goes if I’m the only one around.  Am I just supposed to stand there and let patients die, or their injuries become permanent?”  He downed the contents of his glass.

              “Ben, I know that this has to be frustrating for you, but you must concentrate on the positives and wait—”