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Her Healing Ways
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“Can you do anything for him? Or is he a goner?” asked the bartender.
The word goner tightened Mercy’s throat. “The wound may have collapsed part of the lung. I will need to stitch up the wound.”
There was a deep murmuring as everyone made their opinion of this known, discussing it back and forth. Mercy focused on Lon and her task. In the background, the voices blended together in a deep ebb and flow, like waves on a shore.
Indigo laid out the surgical instruments on a clean linen cloth. Mercy looked to the saloon girl, who was hovering nearby. “What is thy name, miss?”
“Sunny, ma’am—I mean, Doc.”
“Sunny, will thee help me by unbuttoning the shirt and vest the rest of the way and helping the bar tender remove them? I must scrub my hands thoroughly before I begin surgery.”
Sunny nodded and began undoing Lon’s vest buttons.
Mercy moved farther down the bar, where Indigo had poured boiled water and alcohol into a clean basin. She picked up a bar of soap and began scrubbing her hands and nails with a little brush, hating each moment of delay.
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