Whirlwind Groom

“Russ said there was a snakebite.” The raven-haired nurse hurried around him, shoving a small black bag into his chest. She placed a hand on Josie’s forehead.

He stood and stepped back to give his friend some room.

“How long has she been like this?”

“She woke up just a minute ago, but before that at least ten minutes.”

“Where’s the bite?”

“Her left calf, on the inside.”

Rolling up the sleeves on her pale blue bodice, Catherine folded back the blanket and reached for Josie’s skirts. She glanced at him. “I need to look at the wound.”

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the soft crest of Josie’s cheekbones, the delicate winged arch of her dark brows, the freckles scattered across her fine-boned nose. Her lips were bloodless. She was still so pale. What if he hadn’t gotten help on time?

“Davis Lee?”

“Huh?”

Catherine twirled her finger. “Turn around.”

He did, biting back the impulse to tell her that he’d already done more than see her patient’s trim, uncovered ankles. He’d ripped the woman’s damn corset off.

“Maybe I need to have a look at you, too?” his friend asked in her calm, soothing voice.

“I’m fine, but I’m afraid she’s real bad.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment. “You cut her.”

“I had to. Is it too deep? Will it scar badly?”

“It’s hard to say. Did you suck out the venom?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

He massaged the tight muscles across his nape. “I don’t know. It seemed like a long time. She told me when to stop.”

He wanted to turn around, see Josie’s face. “Catherine, has she opened her eyes again?”

“No, not yet.”

“She was awake just a minute ago. Said she was thirsty. Esther went to get her some water.”

“Did you clean the wound?”

“No.” He should’ve done that. Why hadn’t he thought to do that?

His friend stood and reached for her bag, then had to pry it gently from Davis Lee’s tight grip. She opened the satchel and removed a thick folded square of linen and a brown bottle marked Carbolic Acid.

Damn this anyway. Josie’s ankles were the least of what he’d seen today. He turned around, willing her to open her eyes. “We were out by Ollie’s marker. She lost consciousness a couple of times on the way back to town. We weren’t more than ten minutes away.”

“Has she been unconscious ever since?”

“Except for that short time a while ago.” He didn’t think Josie looked any better. “She’s still shaking.”

“It’s shock,” Catherine told him. “She needs to stay warm.”

Esther walked back into the room carrying a glass of water and an earthen pitcher.

Catherine opened the bottle of carbolic acid and dribbled some of the liquid onto the cloth then gently cleaned the puncture wound and surrounding cuts.

“What do you think, Catherine? Tell me what’s going on,” he demanded. “Is she gonna—”

“Not if I can help it.” She cleansed the wound again.

“Should I have brought her to you instead of here?” The thought that his decision might cost Josie her life had his chest pounding so hard it hurt.

“No. The hotel was closer.”

That had been his first instinct, but since Betsy, Davis Lee hadn’t trusted his instincts about much.

Josie’s eyes fluttered open again and her pain-clouded gaze locked with his. “Where am I?” she croaked.

“Your room at the hotel.” Relief deepened his voice. “Catherine’s here. She’s going to help you.”

Josie licked her lips and Catherine held her head so she could drink from the glass of water Esther had brought. When she finished, Catherine eased her head back down and handed the glass to Davis Lee. “Esther, help me get her under the sheet. I want to wrap the blanket on top of it. That should keep her warm enough.”

Catherine competently rolled Josie toward the wall and Esther struggled to pull the sheet from beneath her split skirt. Davis Lee made an impatient sound and scooped Josie up in his arms. When the sheet was turned down, he laid her back on the mattress.

Esther unwrapped the blanket from around Josie then spread it on top of the sheet. Catherine tucked the covers close to Josie’s body, making a cocoon.

Her fevered gaze locked on his. He didn’t see blame or fear there. He saw trust. Something hot and sharp grabbed him deep inside.

He cleared his throat. “She’s gonna be okay, isn’t she?”

“Without knowing how much venom is in her system, we have to wait and see,” Catherine said softly.

She gave her patient another sip of water. “I’m going to make a poultice, Josie. And a tea.”

Catherine was so composed. Even Josie seemed calm while his insides tangled like rusted barbed wire. He made a frustrated noise and splayed his hands on his hips. Her eyes were closed again. He wanted to do something, wanted her to be all right.

Catherine glanced at him. “The incision you made is small. It’s good you didn’t use your big knife on her.”

“She wouldn’t let me. She wanted me to use her scalpel.”

“Her scalpel?”