They’re good people who want to help you is all.”
Christopher winced with pain as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“ I know you need more laudanum,” Stella said. “I want to give you your dose before I change that sling.”
“ What?” Christopher asked. He didn’t like the idea of changing anything about his arm.
“ I need to change your bandage and your sling. Josiah told me I’d need to change it if he got delayed getting back up here. You need a clean bandage for that gash on your hand.”
“ It can wait, yeah? The pain…”
“ It cannot wait, no.” Stella busied herself with measuring out Christopher’s laudanum. She stuck the vial in his mouth without a word.
While Stella waited for the medicine to take effect, she poured a pitcher of hot water into a large bowl and dipped in a bar of soap and a cloth.
“ Once that medicine eases your pain I’ll help you get cleaned up. You can’t be dirty when you’re fighting an infection. And believe me, that gash in your hand looked right wicked before we bandaged it.”
She glanced at Christopher’s matted curls and the mixture of sand and seaweed that was caked to his ear and head. “And besides, look at you. You’re a mess, aren’t you?”
Christopher chuckled. “I’ve no doubt I am.”
He watched as Stella expertly folded out a new sling from a clean piece of cloth and set out an array of bandages.
“ Are you a nurse for your husband then?” he asked.
“ Not officially,” Stella said. “But I’ve learned how to help. I like doing it.”
“ You ought to make yourself an official nurse.”
“ Like Clara Barton, you mean?”
Word of the American nurse’s role in caring for soldiers in the Civil War and involvement in the Franco-Prussian war had spread all the way to Ireland, and from what Christopher had heard, the woman was an angel. He looked at Stella and found himself thinking the same about her.
“ Maybe so.”
“ I don’t think Dr. Winslow would go along with that. He'd surely say he doesn't need a nurse.”
She sat down next to Christopher on the bed and washed his face and neck before starting to unbutton his tattered shirt. “I think the medicine should be working enough now. I’ll try my best not to hurt you though.”
“ I can take it off myself,” Christopher said, suddenly embarrassed. He used his good hand to undo the rest of the buttons at the top of his shirt and remove his suspenders from his shoulders. He pulled his good arm free of the sleeve and, biting his lip from the pain, grimaced and pulled the shirt over his head.
“ I need to take that sling off for you now,” Stella said.
Christopher cringed as she untied the sling and held the weight of his fractured arm in her hands. He moved as quickly as he could to pull the shirt off his arm.
He shivered from both cold and embarrassment as he sat on the bed wearing nothing but his trousers.
“ I know you’re cold,” Stella said, “but there’s no need to be embarrassed.”
Christopher wondered if Stella could read minds in addition to being a nurse. “How’d you know I was embarrassed?” he asked.
“ Because your cheeks are as red as the sun coming up over the horizon in the morning,” she said, smiling as Christopher’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of crimson.
Stella rubbed the soap onto the wet cloth and gently washed Christopher’s shoulders and chest. She struggled to keep from turning red herself as she ran the cloth over his pectoral muscles and her hand brushed the curly brown hair that ran in a line down the middle of his chest to his abdomen.
She rinsed the cloth in the bowl of hot water and soaped it up again, this time focusing on cleaning Christopher’s unbroken right arm. She felt his eyes on her and glanced up into his face, blushing again as his chocolate brown eyes seemed to bore into her.
Stella cleared her throat. “I have to wash your broken arm now. I’ll be gentle.”
Christopher
Christopher winced with pain as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“ I know you need more laudanum,” Stella said. “I want to give you your dose before I change that sling.”
“ What?” Christopher asked. He didn’t like the idea of changing anything about his arm.
“ I need to change your bandage and your sling. Josiah told me I’d need to change it if he got delayed getting back up here. You need a clean bandage for that gash on your hand.”
“ It can wait, yeah? The pain…”
“ It cannot wait, no.” Stella busied herself with measuring out Christopher’s laudanum. She stuck the vial in his mouth without a word.
While Stella waited for the medicine to take effect, she poured a pitcher of hot water into a large bowl and dipped in a bar of soap and a cloth.
“ Once that medicine eases your pain I’ll help you get cleaned up. You can’t be dirty when you’re fighting an infection. And believe me, that gash in your hand looked right wicked before we bandaged it.”
She glanced at Christopher’s matted curls and the mixture of sand and seaweed that was caked to his ear and head. “And besides, look at you. You’re a mess, aren’t you?”
Christopher chuckled. “I’ve no doubt I am.”
He watched as Stella expertly folded out a new sling from a clean piece of cloth and set out an array of bandages.
“ Are you a nurse for your husband then?” he asked.
“ Not officially,” Stella said. “But I’ve learned how to help. I like doing it.”
“ You ought to make yourself an official nurse.”
“ Like Clara Barton, you mean?”
Word of the American nurse’s role in caring for soldiers in the Civil War and involvement in the Franco-Prussian war had spread all the way to Ireland, and from what Christopher had heard, the woman was an angel. He looked at Stella and found himself thinking the same about her.
“ Maybe so.”
“ I don’t think Dr. Winslow would go along with that. He'd surely say he doesn't need a nurse.”
She sat down next to Christopher on the bed and washed his face and neck before starting to unbutton his tattered shirt. “I think the medicine should be working enough now. I’ll try my best not to hurt you though.”
“ I can take it off myself,” Christopher said, suddenly embarrassed. He used his good hand to undo the rest of the buttons at the top of his shirt and remove his suspenders from his shoulders. He pulled his good arm free of the sleeve and, biting his lip from the pain, grimaced and pulled the shirt over his head.
“ I need to take that sling off for you now,” Stella said.
Christopher cringed as she untied the sling and held the weight of his fractured arm in her hands. He moved as quickly as he could to pull the shirt off his arm.
He shivered from both cold and embarrassment as he sat on the bed wearing nothing but his trousers.
“ I know you’re cold,” Stella said, “but there’s no need to be embarrassed.”
Christopher wondered if Stella could read minds in addition to being a nurse. “How’d you know I was embarrassed?” he asked.
“ Because your cheeks are as red as the sun coming up over the horizon in the morning,” she said, smiling as Christopher’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of crimson.
Stella rubbed the soap onto the wet cloth and gently washed Christopher’s shoulders and chest. She struggled to keep from turning red herself as she ran the cloth over his pectoral muscles and her hand brushed the curly brown hair that ran in a line down the middle of his chest to his abdomen.
She rinsed the cloth in the bowl of hot water and soaped it up again, this time focusing on cleaning Christopher’s unbroken right arm. She felt his eyes on her and glanced up into his face, blushing again as his chocolate brown eyes seemed to bore into her.
Stella cleared her throat. “I have to wash your broken arm now. I’ll be gentle.”
Christopher
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