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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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Embers of Love (33 page)

BOOK: Embers of Love
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Lizzie looked rather embarrassed. “I’m afraid I know very little about childbirth. Remember – while you were studying biology, I was learning about European art.”

“I know the medical information – at least the portion I could find in books; but you would do better to talk to Mother about the experience. She’s done this three times; I’m sure she’ll have all the answers you need.”

“I feel silly being a grown woman and not knowing. My mother was so remiss in teaching me much of anything that had to do with being a wife and mother. If left to her example for guidance, I’m sure poor G. W. would never have wanted me.”

Deborah laughed. “That’s hardly possible. G. W. would have loved you no matter. I’ve never seen two people more smitten.”

“And what of you, Deborah?” Lizzie’s expression turned quite serious. “When do you plan to open your heart to someone?”

“I . . . I hardly know how to reply.” Deborah abandoned her place at the desk and moved to close the office door. Rather than return to her seat, however, she strode to the window and gazed out at the overcast December day.

“What’s the matter?” Lizzie questioned. “You’ve never had any trouble speaking your mind before.”

“I know. I’ve always been able to talk to you or Mother, but this time I feel a bit tongue-tied.” She turned and met Lizzie’s inquiring expression. “I had honestly figured to stay here – remain single and help my family. Mother is totally opposed to that idea, but all of these years, I thought it was what she and Father wanted. Having me handle the office freed up the men to take their needed places in the forest. Mother and Sissy were then able to handle the animals and the kitchen, and of course now that you’re here, they certainly don’t need me for household chores. Well, at least not as much.” Deborah smiled for a brief moment, then frowned.

“I suppose I’m uncertain as to what I should do. I’ve planned for one thing all of my life and now that thing seems . . . well . . .”

“To have disappeared?” Lizzie asked.

“No. It’s more like it never existed at all. It’s as if I invented something in my mind that had no physical substance. Like a child creating an imaginary friend.”

She sat down beside Lizzie and gave a sigh. “I feel confused by the entire matter. Mother wants me to marry and start a family. She says she’s not, but it’s like she’s trying to get rid of me.”

“Oh, Deborah, that isn’t even possible. Your mother has always held a special place in her heart for you. However, I know she’s concerned that you would let life and love pass you by, in favor of what you consider duty.”

“She said that?”

Lizzie nodded and reached out to take hold of Deborah’s hand. “You must understand: She only wants good things for you. She is proud of your intelligence. Proud of the things you’ve accomplished. She wants you to live life in a way that pleases God, of course. But she also wants it to please you.”

“And she believes marriage would be pleasing to me?”

“Who can say? I know she sees the interest young men are taking, and she wants you to feel the liberty of sharing your heart.”

Deborah started to reply when they heard a commotion outside. It sounded like Rob calling for help. Getting to her feet, Deborah headed for the office door. “I hope no one is hurt.”

She made her way outside as the driver pulled back hard to bring the team to a stop and Rob rose up from the wagon seat. Lizzie came to her side, and it wasn’t long before Mother and Sissy were there, as well.

“Come quick!” Rob yelled. “It’s G. W.!”

Lizzie swayed and reached for the porch post. “No!” She started for the wagon, but Deborah grabbed hold of her. “You wait here and let me see how bad it is.”

Mother and Sissy were already at the wagon. Deborah heard them ask if anyone had gone for the doctor and knew it must be very bad. Lizzie seemed to sense this, too.

“I’ll wait,” she said, “but please hurry.”

Deborah nodded and ran to the wagon. The sight there was not one she had anticipated. For a moment, she thought she might very well swoon. She steadied herself against the edge of the wagon and noted the blood that had soaked through to the wagon bed.

“Rob, what happened?” Mother asked, staring down at her unconscious son.

“He climbed up to top a tree. Somethin’ went wrong and the tree snapped and G. W. fell. A branch impaled his leg. I was just heading out to join them when I spied Klem here driving the wagon like there was no tomorra.”

Deborah didn’t wait for her mother to comment. She took charge without even thinking. “We need to get him inside. Mother, it would be best to lay him out on the dining room table.”

Mother looked at her for only a moment and nodded. “Rob, can you and Klem manage him?”

“We’ll do it,” Rob assured her. “You just hold the door for us.”

“I’ll fetch an oilcloth for the table,” Sissy said. She was gone before Deborah could so much as comment. She looked to the porch and could see that Lizzie was crying.

“Lizzie, go help Sissy. We’re going to need clean towels, bandages, and hot water – lots of it.”

Deborah didn’t wait to see if Lizzie did as she bid. She turned to her mother as Rob and Klem worked to move G. W. “Mother, this isn’t good. He may well bleed to death. I’ll do what I can if you’ll allow me to. I’ve observed several procedures and assisted Dr. Clayton. Hopefully, I can do the preliminary things before he gets here.”

Her mother took hold of her arm. “Do whatever you can to save him, Deborah. Tell me how I can help.”

Deborah drew her mother toward the house. “I’ll need your good sewing shears and some tweezers.” She noted the piece of tree branch protruding from G. W.’s leg along with bone. It wasn’t a simple fracture. Fortunately, someone had strapped a belt around his upper thigh. “We may need some pliers, and get some of the soft soap and melt it in a pan of hot water. After it’s melted, cut it with half again as much cold water so as not to burn the skin. We’re going to have to clean that wound and see just how bad things really are.” She began rolling up her sleeves as she walked toward the house. She could only pray that something she’d learned could now benefit her brother.

By the time the men had G. W. laid out on the table the way Deborah thought most beneficial, her brother had still not regained consciousness. It wasn’t a good sign. Neither was the shallowness of his breathing. It was entirely possible he’d broken some ribs and punctured his lung.

The women worked together to cut away G. W.’s trousers. They were hopelessly caked with blood and mud, with numerous jagged tears. Deborah motioned to Rob. He came without hesitation.

“I don’t know if the doctor will be able to save his leg. He’s got a bad break and he’s lost a lot of blood. The wounds are multiple and severe. You may need to lend support to Lizzie. She needs to be careful in her condition.”

“You can count on me, Sis. I’ll try to keep watch over her. Is there anything I can do to help G. W.?” His worried gaze never left G. W.’s lifeless body. “I shouldn’ta been so slow gettin’ back. This might not have happened if I’d been there.”

“Stop it. We don’t have time for such thoughts. It might not only have happened, but it could have involved both of you,” Mother declared.

Lizzie seemed in a daze as she reached out to touch G. W.’s brow. “Please don’t leave me,” she whispered against his ear.

“He’s not going anywhere, if I have anything to say about it. Mother, is the soap and water ready?”

“Just about. Sissy said she’d bring it.”

Deborah nodded. “We need to clean the debris from the wound, but in a way that minimizes the bleeding. We won’t remove the larger pieces. Dr. Clayton will see to that.”

Sissy arrived with the soap concoction and helped Deborah to pour part of it over the leg. G. W. didn’t stir or even moan, furthering Deborah’s concern. But she was glad he didn’t have to consciously endure the pain.

“We’re going to need more light. Please bring several lamps so that we can see better.” She hadn’t issued the order to anyone in particular, but Mother and Sissy hurried to get them.

Deborah bent over her brother’s leg and soaked up some of the dirt and blood with a towel. She then poured additional water over the wound and repeated the process. The flow of blood was stymied by the belt around G. W.’s thigh. The only problem, however, was that cutting off the blood flow for too long would only lead to killing the limb. She toyed with the idea of releasing the belt a bit to allow the blood to circulate through the undamaged vessels. It would also show her whether or not the artery had been severed. If it had, there wasn’t much hope of G. W. keeping his leg.

When the lamps were in place, Deborah looked at her mother. “I’m going to loosen the belt to see how bad the bleeding is. Hopefully I’ll be able to tell if the artery is pierced. Meanwhile, can you and Sissy strip off his shirt? We need to see what damage was done to his ribs. He’s not breathing well.”

Everyone went into motion at once. Deborah handled the belt and was relieved when no bright red blood spurted from the wound. Blood oozed from the wounds, but to her surprise it wasn’t all that bad. She tried not to think about the fact that G. W. might very well not have much blood left. She opted instead to get back to cleaning the debris. She would leave the belt loosened so long as the bleeding didn’t increase.

“Mother,” she said suddenly, having a great idea, “do you still have that magnifying glass of Father’s?”

“I do.” She nodded and headed off without Deborah saying another word. When she returned, Deborah instructed her to hold it over the wounds so she could see better to clean the lacerations.

With meticulous care, she began pulling splintered wood and bits of rock and dirt from the wound. She had worked for maybe thirty minutes when Uncle Arjan rushed into the room.

“Doctor’s here.”

Deborah straightened. “I’ve been doing what I could to clean out the debris. I’ve left the bigger pieces in place for you, in case they caused the bleeding to increase. He seems to be breathing in a shallow manner.”

Dr. Clayton nodded and immediately opened his medical bag. Deborah saw that he’d brought a much larger case than he usually carried.

“You keep picking out the small pieces while I listen to his lungs.”

Deborah focused back in on her work. She put aside the fact that this was her brother. Such reminders wouldn’t serve her well. If anything, it would only cause her to lose her focus.

Dr. Clayton listened to G. W.’s breathing for several moments. “Perhaps a small collapse, but air is moving well.” He continued to check G. W. for further wounds. “Arjan told me what happened,” he said to Deborah. “Has he regained consciousness since the fall?”

“No, not since they brought him here,” she answered.

They both looked to Rob, who shook his head. He turned to Klem. “What about it?”

“Ain’t come awake since he fell,” Klem told them. “Not so much as a grunt.”

Dr. Clayton pulled a large bottle of carbolic acid from his bag. “Hopefully the bleeding helped to clear away some of the fragments.”

Deborah pointed to the pan of soapy water. “I used that to clean away the dirt and some of the caked blood. It’s Mother’s soft soap and warm water.”

He nodded while pouring the soapy liquid over the site. Straightening, he then used a liberal amount of the carbolic acid over his scalpel and probes. “Deborah, hold his legs steady, and Arjan, grab his shoulders. I don’t expect him to move, but you can never tell.”

He noted the belt. “It was good thinking to control the blood flow. I’m going to check the break and situation of the tree piece, and then we’ll get to work on seeing if we can save the leg.” He looked at Deborah and smiled. “Ready to assist me?”

She nodded. “Just tell me what to do.”

C
HAPTER
30

G. W.’s recovery was doubtful the first few hours. His fever soared and his unconscious state was broken only by an occasional moan. Further examination revealed several broken ribs and concern that his back may have been damaged in the fall. The discoloration and bruising were of grave concern.

Deborah remained at G. W.’s side as much as possible as the hours moved into days. Mother and Lizzie were there, as well. The three women took turns cooling G. W.’s feverish body with wet rags. In addition, Deborah helped Dr. Clayton tend to the leg wounds. A makeshift splint was fashioned to hold the bone in place. It was far from ideal, but with the need to watch the wounds for infection, it was the best they could do at the present.

When G. W. finally showed signs of response, Dr. Clayton started to worry about the degree of injury he’d sustained. “His neurological reactions are slow. However, I’m not overly worried at this point. I think there may be a great deal of swelling along the spinal column, and hopefully that will reduce in time.”

Deborah knew how serious the situation might be. Her brother could be left paralyzed. She doubted Mother and Lizzie understood the matter’s gravity. Exchanging a look with Dr. Clayton, his expression told her that it was best they kept such thoughts between the two of them. Sometimes knowledge could be the enemy – especially where emotions were concerned. They would know soon enough if G. W. had the ability to move his legs.

“When do you suppose he’ll awaken?” Mother asked hopefully.

“I can’t really say. We’ll know more with each passing day. We need to keep hoping and praying. The fever is down, and the leg looks good. I’m not seeing any infection, but he could still have trouble. We’ll just keep watching it closely.”

“I’ll come again in the morning,” Dr. Clayton said as he gathered his things.

“Thank you so much for all you’ve done,” Mother told him. She handed him an envelope. “Tuck this away for later. Maybe it will help your family.” He glanced at it for a minute, then put it in his coat pocket. “Deborah,” her mother continued, “why don’t you take Dr. Clayton to the kitchen and get him a plate of food to take home with him?”

“I will, Mother.” She looked to Dr. Clayton, wondering if this would be to his liking. He smiled and opened the door for her.

Deborah made her way through the house knowing that the good doctor wouldn’t be far behind. She picked up one of the oil lamps from the front room and carried it to the kitchen as they went.

BOOK: Embers of Love
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ads

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