Edge of Time (Langston Brothers Series) (37 page)

Gallantly, Craig shook the other man’s hand. “I’d like to think we would all go to such le
ngths to protect our daughters.” He nodded
, then turned to lead his wife away.

“How could you shake that man’s hand? He may be the one who shot you.”

“I don’t think he is, and anyway, if I suspected a man of taking advantage of my daughter, let’s just say
…
I wouldn’t have missed.”

Marissa’s eyes widened. “Oh, God, I hope we never have daughters!”

Spreading a hand over her stomach he smiled tenderly. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Outside, they s
aw the Jamison family’s buggy
rolling away. James stood looking after it.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” Craig asked. “About Kirsten, the laudanum, all of this?”

The other man shrugged slender shoulders. “I didn’t put any of it together until you made a comment about feeling hung over on laudanum. I reported to the Colonel and Major Bernstein. They were going to save it till the
hearing tomorrow
, but,” he shrugged, “as you can see it blew up before we’d anticipated. I’d hoped to... to protect Kirsten, by having it made plain today I want to marry her.”

“Why?”

“Because I
was fool enough to fall for her games a
nd
now it’s the right thing to do.” He shrugged. “Her babe is mine. I’ve no choice but to follow through
.”

“I d
on’t even know how to thank you,” Craig said.
“
If there is anything I can do for you?”

“Don’t even think of it. We’re friends and I’m sorry I didn’t believe you sooner.” Flashing a wolfish grin toward Marissa he said, “Granted, I couldn’t figure as to why you’d stray from a wife like that.”

Grinning in return, Crai
g slapped James on the shoulder.
“God willing, I could never imagine being tempted.”

Edge of Time
230

Twenty

Life may not be perfect, but it’s definitely better.
Craig smiled as he headed home after making a house call. Marissa was miserable, well loved, but feeling wretched, sick, tired and was perpetually grumpy.
One child may well be enough if we survive this ordeal,
he thought.
He’d finally convinced her to take a few days off and rest.

“Major Langston!”

Not yet used to the new distinction, it took a moment
for him
to answer the call. Turning, he spotted the sheriff hailing him from across the street. With a friendly greeting he crossed to speak with the lawman
.
“Problems, Sheriff?” he asked, noting the grim expression on the other man’s face.

“As you know we’ve kept a constant watch over the Harris farm ever since the bodies of the transport detail turned up.”

Craig nodded.

“The deputy I had posted out there last night never came back.” A deep sense of dread settled into the pit of Craig’s stomach and he shifted,
crossing his arms
as the sheriff continued. “I’ve got a few men rounded up to go looking for him and I was hoping you would ride out with us in case we find him injured. It can’t hurt to have a doctor along and I wouldn’t mind having another fast gun in the party in case we run into whoever is out in those woods.”

“You’ve got it,” Craig said at once. “Just let me run home to tell my wife and get my horse.”

As he jogged the last couple of blocks to his townhouse his mind whirled with the news the sheriff had relayed. What had happened to the deputy? Was it a freak accident or something more sinister? With the other turmoil in his life he had given very little thought to the man in the Harris’s woods, assuming he’d moved on when the law threatened to move in. Taking the stairs two at a time he burst through the front door and followed the sound of the piano to where his wife sat in the parlor.

“Marissa.”

She turned at the sound of his voice, the smile quickly fading from her face as she caught sight of his deadly serious expression. “Craig, what is it?”

“One of the deputies never came back from Genie’s farm last night, and I need to ride out with the search party in case he’s hurt.”

“Oh
,
my God,” Marissa clasped a hand to her breast. “I haven’t thought about the woods in weeks!”

“I know.” He kissed her gently before turning to mount the stairs. Quic
kly he
strapped dual side arms about his waist. Descending the stairs, he grabbed his medical bag from a chair in the entryway and turned to Marissa once again. “I don’t know how long this is going to take so don’t worry about holding dinner for me, or waiting up. I promise to wake you when I get home. All right?”

“All right,” she nodded
, embracing h
im tightly with love and concern.
“You look more like a gunfighter than a doctor just now. Be careful.”

“I will.” He strode from the house to saddle Jeb and rode toward the jail.

The posse of ten men road cautiously into the woods, each man keenly alert for anything out of the ordinary. Not a soul spoke. The thicket was eerily quiet, with only the sound of crunching horses’ hooves on the dry, autumn leaves.

“Over there!” The call alerted the riders to a shape lying on the ground. “Doc! Up front. Quick!”

Craig kicked his buckskin to the head of the pack and saw the man lying motionless on the ground. He dismounted to perform a quick examination. Pressing two fingers along the man’s throat he checked for a pulse, and watched for signs of breathing. “He’s still alive but barely,” he reported. “We’ll need
to get him back to town
, now.”

George Hudson strode quickly to the physician’s side. “It’s Rogers. What do you make of it Doc?”

Craig opened his bag and grabbed thick dressings, which he bound to the deputy’s abdomen. “He was gut-shot.”

“Haze! Miller!” Sheriff Hudson called. “Find what you need to help Doc Langston get Rogers back to town. The rest of us will stay out here and go over these woods like we’re looking for a needle in a haystack.

During the thirty minute ride back to Charleston Craig’s mind swung between the plight of the patient he hoped to save, and thoughts of what could have happened to Marissa the night he’d found her in the woods. Rogers had been shot with deadly intent in the same place she and Craig had fought so heatedly that night.

As the party eased to a halt at the hospital, Craig spotted Paul Christenson hanging around, taking a great interest in the goings on. “Get Rogers into the operating room,” he instructed, then turning to Mitchell Haze he said in an undertone, “will you go and bring my wife to the hospital?” He needed to see her, to know she was safe. “Take my horse for her.”

“Sure thing Doc.” Without question the man took Jeb’s reins, swung his mount around and headed in the direction of the Langston house.

James Rowe came instantly to Craig’s aid and quickly the doctors set about having the operating room prepared for emergency surgery. Craig couldn’t help but smile as he noted that even in Marissa’s absence, the hospital staff had maintained the standards she’d set. Laying Jesse Rogers upon the hard table, the surgeons quickly sliced the clothes from his body and set to work removing the bullet from his belly and saving the brave man’s life.

*
             
*
             
*

When Mitch Haze first arrived at her front door to ask her to accompany him to the hospital Marissa was
certain
Craig
had been
injured. Quickly Haze assured her, and on the ride to the hospital, filled her in. She assumed Craig needed her knowledge of advanced medical care. He often grilled her about techniques to come.

It had been difficult to suppress an amused chuckle the first time he’d asked her about the controversial and experimental practice of slowly
running
saline into veins. When she’d explained the extent to which fluid replacement therapy was used he’d been astounded, and had the equipment been available to them, she was sure he would have quickly put the practice to use.

“Thank you, Mitch,” she said hastily before hitching up her skirts and dashing up the front steps of the hospital.

It had been several weeks since she’d been there and the realization of how much she missed working with people,
helping people
washed over her.

“Excuse me, Bobby.” At the sound of her voice the orderly turned to her and beamed a welcoming smile. “Can you tell me where to find Captain Langston?”

“He’s in surgery, Mrs. Langston.”

“All right, then I’ll do what I can out here.” Looking around she quickly donned an apron and set to work. It felt good to be useful again. She wiped sweaty brows with damp cloths, changed unsightly, blood-soaked dressings, and comforted young men in pain. Several of the officers and orderlies came to tell her it was nice see her back and Major Bernstein even gave her a one armed hug.

“Mrs. Langston, this place hasn’t been the same without you. It wasn’t until you weren’t working every
day that I realized you do the work of about ten good men all on your own.” Lowering his voice the Major continued, “and I’ll tell you, losing you was as bad as losing one of my doctors. I hope this won’t be your only visit.”

“Oh, Dr. Bernstein,” she bit her lip to conceal a pleased smile, “The hospital looks as though it has gotten along just fine without me here. In fact it looks no different from the last time I was here.”

“Just the same, you do plan to come back to work on a regular basis?” The older man cleared his throat. “I understand that congratulations are in order, but we can still use your input.”

“Don’t worry
,
Major,” Marissa smiled. “I plan to be back.”

At last Craig and James Rowe emerged from the operating room looking decidedly haggard and talking quietly between themselves. It was impossible to hear what they were saying but when James shook his red head Marissa couldn’t take it anymore.

“Craig,” she strode quickly to stand beside him and squeezed his arm compassionately. “What happened?”

“Deputy Roger’s was shot and
—
“

“Yes, yes, I know that. Is he going to make it?”

“He’s still alive for the moment.” He held up a forty caliber slug. “Right now I’m not sure he’ll even make it through the night. I would say that if he survives the next two days, he’ll live as long as infection doesn’t set in.”

With a nod Marissa opened her mouth to ask, but Craig held up a hand to stop her. “Yes, my dear, we used only sterilized surgical instruments and have orderlies busy re
-
sterilizing them even now, in case they’re needed again tonight.”  He held his hand up once again. “And we scrubbed before operating. And
—
” This time he raised only a finger. “We cleansed him as best we could, too, scrubbing his skin all around the wound.” Rocking back on his heels Craig cocked his head to the side. “Is that acceptable, Dr. Langston?”

“Very acceptable, but don’t call me doctor. You know I hate that.”