addicted to the drug, he said flatly, “I don’t need it.”
“The use of laudanum is entirely safe if carefully supervised.”
“Is it?” Drew’s annoyance increased along with his pain as he snapped, “I know better.”
“I beg your pardon . . . so do I.” The young woman’s voice lost its patronizing quality. “I saw laudanum used to great advantage when I volunteered my services in army hospitals in New York and I—”
“In New York.” Drew went cold. “You’re talking about
Yankee
army hospitals—”
“That’s right.”
“Where you nursed wounded
enemy
soldiers.”
Momentarily taken aback, Tricia replied, “They weren’t my enemies. Besides, the war is over.”
“Not for me, it isn’t.”
“That’s a fool’s response.”
“No, that’s a Confederate’s response.”
“There is no Confederacy.”
Drew’s jaw locked tight. He needed to leave.
He was about to throw the coverlet off when memory flashed, and he said, “I asked you to get me my pants.”
“I told you, they’re being laundered.”
“I said—”
A sound at the door interrupted his response, and Drew looked up to see a slight, middle-aged man carrying a black bag.
Tricia felt her heart sink. She had not intended her first conversation with the man in the bed to escalate into anger, but her reaction had been spontaneous. In hindsight, she realized that he must be bitter at the loss of a cause for which he had been wounded and had doubtless seen friends die. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. She supposed she needed to be more patient.
Tricia looked at the big fellow, who glanced back at her contemptuously, and her anger flared anew.
Patience had never been one of her strengths.
Dr. Wesley walked to his patient’s bedside and said, “My name is Dr. Wesley, and if I don’t miss my guess, your temperature is just about normal this morning.” Turning back to glance at her, he continued, “It looks like you made a real difference last night, Tricia.”
The sick man’s eyes jerked briefly toward her as Dr. Wesley touched his forehead and nodded. He appeared to listen intently as the doctor worked at his bedside. “You know my name,” Dr. Wesley went on, “but I don’t know yours.”
“Drew.” There was a pause. “Drew . . . Collins.”
“Coming home from the war, are you, Drew?”
A nod was the response.
“Well, if I’m to judge by the change in your condition this morning, I’d say you can be on your way in a week or more.”
“A week!” Drew Collins shook his head. “I’m leaving here today.”
Dr. Wesley looked down at him sharply. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
Dr. Wesley hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “Well, I guess you could try.”
The big man’s gaze darkened. “Meaning?”
“Meaning you wouldn’t get far. Whether you realize it or not, that leg is as weak as a kitten’s right now. It wouldn’t support you any farther than the stairs.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Another ‘whether you know it or not’ is that the infectionyou’ve been ignoring has started to spread, which accounts for your fever. You’re just lucky this young lady decided to make you her patient last night, or you might not be in the shape you’re in this morning. The infection has the upper hand right now. I told Tricia last night that if it didn’t subside, you could lose your leg, and that situation hasn’t changed.”
Drew Collins’s mouth tightened almost imperceptibly as he replied, “Yes, it has.”
“My dear fellow—”
Interrupting the doctor without hesitation, Drew said, “Look, Doc, I appreciate all you did for me, but I can take it from here. And like I said, I’m leaving today.”
“Fine.” The room was uncomfortably silent as Dr. Wesley worked over the wound. Abruptly smiling, the graying doctor said, “Well, I’ve removed the poultice and changed the bandage on your leg, and that’s about all I can do for you right now. I’ll leave some packets
“The use of laudanum is entirely safe if carefully supervised.”
“Is it?” Drew’s annoyance increased along with his pain as he snapped, “I know better.”
“I beg your pardon . . . so do I.” The young woman’s voice lost its patronizing quality. “I saw laudanum used to great advantage when I volunteered my services in army hospitals in New York and I—”
“In New York.” Drew went cold. “You’re talking about
Yankee
army hospitals—”
“That’s right.”
“Where you nursed wounded
enemy
soldiers.”
Momentarily taken aback, Tricia replied, “They weren’t my enemies. Besides, the war is over.”
“Not for me, it isn’t.”
“That’s a fool’s response.”
“No, that’s a Confederate’s response.”
“There is no Confederacy.”
Drew’s jaw locked tight. He needed to leave.
He was about to throw the coverlet off when memory flashed, and he said, “I asked you to get me my pants.”
“I told you, they’re being laundered.”
“I said—”
A sound at the door interrupted his response, and Drew looked up to see a slight, middle-aged man carrying a black bag.
Tricia felt her heart sink. She had not intended her first conversation with the man in the bed to escalate into anger, but her reaction had been spontaneous. In hindsight, she realized that he must be bitter at the loss of a cause for which he had been wounded and had doubtless seen friends die. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. She supposed she needed to be more patient.
Tricia looked at the big fellow, who glanced back at her contemptuously, and her anger flared anew.
Patience had never been one of her strengths.
Dr. Wesley walked to his patient’s bedside and said, “My name is Dr. Wesley, and if I don’t miss my guess, your temperature is just about normal this morning.” Turning back to glance at her, he continued, “It looks like you made a real difference last night, Tricia.”
The sick man’s eyes jerked briefly toward her as Dr. Wesley touched his forehead and nodded. He appeared to listen intently as the doctor worked at his bedside. “You know my name,” Dr. Wesley went on, “but I don’t know yours.”
“Drew.” There was a pause. “Drew . . . Collins.”
“Coming home from the war, are you, Drew?”
A nod was the response.
“Well, if I’m to judge by the change in your condition this morning, I’d say you can be on your way in a week or more.”
“A week!” Drew Collins shook his head. “I’m leaving here today.”
Dr. Wesley looked down at him sharply. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
Dr. Wesley hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “Well, I guess you could try.”
The big man’s gaze darkened. “Meaning?”
“Meaning you wouldn’t get far. Whether you realize it or not, that leg is as weak as a kitten’s right now. It wouldn’t support you any farther than the stairs.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Another ‘whether you know it or not’ is that the infectionyou’ve been ignoring has started to spread, which accounts for your fever. You’re just lucky this young lady decided to make you her patient last night, or you might not be in the shape you’re in this morning. The infection has the upper hand right now. I told Tricia last night that if it didn’t subside, you could lose your leg, and that situation hasn’t changed.”
Drew Collins’s mouth tightened almost imperceptibly as he replied, “Yes, it has.”
“My dear fellow—”
Interrupting the doctor without hesitation, Drew said, “Look, Doc, I appreciate all you did for me, but I can take it from here. And like I said, I’m leaving today.”
“Fine.” The room was uncomfortably silent as Dr. Wesley worked over the wound. Abruptly smiling, the graying doctor said, “Well, I’ve removed the poultice and changed the bandage on your leg, and that’s about all I can do for you right now. I’ll leave some packets
Similar Books
