The Montana Doctor's Bride (New Brides of Montana) (5 page)

The following Tuesday...

“Wonderful meal, Letty, thank you.
  I haven’t had anything approaching this good since I left Rockville,” Carter said.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Letty said.

“Where are you from?” Carter asked Jack Owens.

“We were both born in Illinois,” Jack answered.  “We felt a calling to come serve.  We’ve been here two years now.  What about you?”

“I was born in Maryland, and made my home in Rockville, Maryland after medical school..  I was in the Army of the Potomac during the war.  I came home to find my wife had died more than a year earlier. However, the army had listed me as killed in action and I didn’t find out about Lucy until I returned home.  I came west to escape from my memories, Carter said.

Letty said, “The Lord works in mysterious ways.  This is where he needed for you to be.”

“I just wish he hadn’t taken Lucy.  The idea of coming home to her kept me going.  Now, I’m alone,” Carter said.

“You’re not alone, Carter, you have us,” the preacher said. 

The Army…

When Carter opened his office door, there were two men in uniform waiting to see him, a captain and a sergeant.  “The Colonel sends his compliments, Doctor.  He has asked me to inform you, we will be starting a campaign against Red Cloud and the Sioux Nation.  The Army would like to contract for your services during this action.”

“And where would this service be, Captain?” Carter asked.

“Fort Smith on the Powder River, sir.  It is expected to begin in August.  Our mission is to protect the Bozeman Trail.  Red Cloud has been active in the area recently.”

Very well, Captain.  I will consider it.  My decision will be based on the needs of my patients at the time.”

“Yessir, I will inform the Colonel.  Sir, the Colonel directed me to inform you, he has the authority for conscription.”

“Captain, both the Colonel and I know, there is currently no law of conscription. However, as a doctor, I will make my services available, based on the needs of my patients at the time.”

“I shall so inform him, sir.  By your leave, sir?” the captain said, requesting permission to leave,

“Thank you Captain.  Just give me one week’s notice,”

Powder River, Wyoming…

Red Cloud, Chief of the Oglala Sioux, and his braves were competing with the emigrants for the diminishing resources near the Bozeman Trail.  After numerous Indian raids against the miners and travelers on the trail, the Army came in to protect the emigrants from the Indians. 

When Red Cloud discovered the presence of the army, he began lightning quick raids against the three army forts along the Powder River and the soldiers and civilians at the three forts in the Powder River area, wearing down those garrisons. The largest action of the war, the
Fetterman Fight
(with 81 men killed on the U.S. side), was the worst military defeat suffered by the U.S. on the
Great Plains
until the
Battle of the Little Bighorn ten years later.  It was here the army needed and wanted the doctor.

The Sioux had joined with the Arapahoe in the fight against the settlers.  The Sioux in particular, were vicious fighters, showing no quarter to their opponents.  The Indians outnumbered the soldiers in most fights, but had significantly fewer guns and little ammunition for the guns.  They avoided skirmishes against an entrenched army unit, preferring hit and run attacks where their bows and arrows were effective.

In his role as doctor for the Cavalry, Carter saw wounds vastly different from those he saw in the war.  Instead of Minie ball wounds, he saw wounds caused by arrows.  Brought in to treat the wounded after a skirmish, he found few survivors, the Indians had slain most of their opponents.  Anyone off their horse was easy prey, and the Indians were skilled in setting traps for the soldiers.  Once again, he had to confront the horrors of war.  So ineffective were the tactics of the soldiers, there was little choice except to sue for peace.  In 1868, a treaty was signed, Red Cloud’s War was over.  He had won. 

Following the treaty, Carter returned to Helena, vowing he would never again go to war.  Before he left, he had arranged with Jack and Letty Owens to look after his home and office.  He returned to find it in excellent condition.

While he was away, he had little opportunity to write Elizabeth, managing a letter only on occasion.  When he did write, he explained the reasons for his lack of communications, and was surprised to find a small stack of uncollected letters at the post office.  He arranged them in chronological order before beginning to read.

Dear Carter,

Knowing how you hated war, I was distraught to learn you were once again involved in conflict.  It is my hope you survive to write again.  I worry about your old friend, Doctor
Gilbride.  He has no help, and turns no one down.  I fear it is affecting his health.  I saw him on the street recently and he appears to have aged beyond his years.

The couple that rent your home is delightful and are good neighbors.  The house is kept in good repair.  They are blessed with a young son, and he brightens my day when I have the chance to see him.  How I wish I was so blessed.

Please write when the opportunity presents itself.  I do enjoy your letters.

Your obedient servant,

Elizabeth

The guilt of having left his friend and mentor to care for so many weighed heavily on him.  He rekindled his friendship with Silas Farmer and Harry Simpson.  His relationship with the Jack and Letty Owens grew, until he regarded them as dear friends and he became a regular attendee of church.

In the next letter from Elizabeth, he was saddened when she said, in part…

Dear Carter,

I fear my concern for Doctor
Gilbride is valid.  I had occasion to see him professionally and was dismayed at his appearance.  He had a tremor in his hands, and pallor of his face.  Having long been his patient, I suggested he see the doctor in Gaithersburg; a suggestion he dismissed immediately.  He said, “I have no time for such indulgence.”  I fear he is not a well man.

I hope this finds you well, since I have had nothing to tell me otherwise.  Please write.  I long for your letter.

Your Obedient Servant,

Elizabeth

The third letter from Elizabeth read:

Dear Carter,

It is with heavy heart I write this letter.  I have only just returned from the funeral of Doctor
Gilbride.  He passed to his reward Saturday last.

One of his patients found his body on Monday.  He was in bed, apparently having passed in his sleep.  I will miss him; he was a good man who had never stopped giving to his friends and neighbors.

This sad occasion has caused me renewed concern for your welfare.  I do wish I could receive an affirmation of your safety.

As for me, I struggle with, but I have regained my appetite, and I feel better than in the recent past.  Carter, please communicate.  I need to hear from you and to know you’re well.

Your Obedient Servant,

Elizabeth

Putting the letters aside, he walked over to Bridge Street and the Western Union Office.  He composed a short message…
Returned safe and well to Helena.  Letter follows.
  He gave the message to the telegrapher and paid the fee, then went home to compose the promised letter. 

It began…

Dear
Elizabeth,

I hope this finds you well.  I too am well, but I am heartsick with the news of Jim
Gilbride.  His death came as a shock.  He was my mentor and more than that, he was my friend, as well as my doctor, and I let him down by leaving him with all of the workload.  His concern as always was for his patients, first and foremost, and as my doctor, he knew there was no way I could survive if I stayed in Rockville, and as my friend he understood.

I arrived back in Helena this morning and picked up my mail shortly thereafter.  I was pleased to find several letters from you.  I apologize for not keeping you posted, but there was no way.  I was in the field with an army unit.  In the end, the Bozeman Trail was deemed more trouble than it was worth and closed.  All three forts have now been closed.  An investigative commission found the Indians had been provoked by the miners and the Army.  The treaty returned their lands to them.

It was nice to rejoin my friends and patients with ordinary problems instead of wounds from gunshots and arrows.  My chosen profession has kept me on a collision course with the horrors of war.  I have vowed I will not go to war again.
 

I look forward to your next letter.

Sincerely,

Carter

Carter
’s practice flourished, with most of his services addressing accidents occurring on ranches and mining claims.  He found himself setting a broken bone at least once a week, and treating the occasional gunshot wound due to a drunken brawl in the Last Chance.  An occasional case of influenza, also required attention.

The monotony was broken in the middle of the night, two months after his return.  When he opened the door, a cowboy from one of the neighboring ranches was standing there, hat in hand.  “Doctor,” he began, “I’m Luke Haskins.  I work for Mr. Jamison from the Lazy J.  He asked me to tell you Miz Jamison is bad off.  She’s been trying to have a baby all day, and the midwife needs help.  Will you come, Doc?”

“Let me get dressed, Mr. Haskins, and I’ll get hitched up and follow you.  I’ll be ready as fast as I can.”

“Doc, while you get dressed, could I be doing the hitching?  It’ll make things go faster.”

“Good idea, I’ll be out to the barn in less than ten minutes,” Carter said.

“Thank ye, Doc.  Case will appreciate it.  They’re nice people.”

Ten minutes later, they were on the road, heading for the Lazy J Ranch.  When they arrived, Luke Haskins said, “Give me the reins and I’ll take care of the horse.  You go on in and help Miz Jamison.”

“Thank you, Luke,” Carter said.  He went through the front door and was met by a lanky man in his early thirties, his brow furrowed with worry.

“Thank you for coming Doctor.  I’m Case Jamison. We ain’t seen you yet, but I appreciate you coming to help.  Carrie is in bad shape.  Maude says the baby is breech and she can’t turn it.  You gotta save Carrie, Doc.  She’s my whole world.” 

“I’ll do everything I can, Mr. Jamison.  Before I examine her, I’ll need to scrub my hands.  Can you get some hot water for me?”

“Yessir.  I’ll do that.  Carrie’s
in yonder.”

There were two women in the room; Mrs. Jamison was lying on her back, covered with a sheet her forehead beaded with sweat.  Her face mirrored the pain she was experiencing.  “I’m Doctor Palmer,” he said.  He addressed the midwife, “What do we have going on?” he asked.

Maude, the midwife said, “The baby is breech, and I can’t turn her.  It’s been like this for hours.”  She turned her head and said in a low voice, “I’m afraid they’re both going to die if we can’t do something soon.”

Jamison brought a pail of steaming water in and poured some of it into the washbasin on a side table.  Carter took a bar of soap from his bag and began scrubbing his hands furiously.  When he was satisfied, he turned back to his patient, and said, “I apologize for the violation of your modesty, Mrs. Jamison, but I fear it is necessary.”

Her voice, barely a whisper, weakened from the hours of labor, said, “Do what you have to, Doctor.  Save my baby.”

Moving his hand under the sheet and tried unsuccessfully to turn the baby.  He turned to the husband and motioned him to an area of the room where they could talk.  “Mr. Jamsion, I agree with Maude, something has to be done.  I cannot turn the baby.  It will have to be taken by Caesarean section, or I fear we will lose them both.”

“What is this Caesarean section, Doctor?  I don’t understand,” he said.

“I would have to anesthetize her, and cut through her belly and get the baby out.  I don’t believe it can be born in the normal way.  If the mother’s uterus ruptures, they’ll both die.”

“Can you do it?  Is it something you’ve done before?”

“I can do it.  Truthfully, I haven’t done it in years, but I was a surgeon during the war, so I know how.  Any time you cut into a body, it is a risk, but I will do everything I can to save them both.  If it comes to one or the other, you will have to make that choice.  I can’t play God.  You have to decide quickly, I fear we haven’t much time.”

“Let me talk to my wife, Doc,” Case asked.

Carter stepped aside and Jamison went to his wife and spoke in a low voice.  He turned back, and said, “Do what you must to save my wife.”

“I have some gauze in my bag, but I will need some clean sheets.  I will go ahead and put her to sleep using ether.  No smoking or fire nearby.  It is highly flammable.”  He put several drops of ether on a pad and placed it over the patient’s nose and mouth.  In less than fifteen minutes, her face was relaxed and she was unconscious.  He turned to Jamison and said, “I think it best if you leave the room.  You have my word; she will not feel anything.  I will talk to you when it’s over.”

Carter worked quickly, made the necessary incisions, and removed the distressed baby.  He clamped and cut the umbilical cord, and handed the baby to the midwife, turned and removed the placenta.  Before closing, he sprinkled sulfur liberally in the wound.  He then closed each incision with stitches, and watched closely for bleeding.  Behind him, he heard the wail of the newborn, and smiled.
“There’s one life,”
he thought. He finished dressing the wound, listened to the rhythmic heartbeat of the mother, and that of the baby.

He opened the door to talk with her husband. “Your wife tolerated the surgery well.  She’s still asleep and will be for some time.  She will be drowsy for the rest of the day and maybe even tomorrow.  I’m going to stay until she’s awake and I’m sure she’s okay. She will have to be careful for four to six weeks, no lifting and no climbing.  I will come here to check on her.  A wagon ride might not be the best thing for her, unless it’s an emergency. She had a hard labor and is wrung out.  She needs rest.  I have listened to the baby’s heartbeat.  It sounds strong; I believe your boy is going to be fine.  I will come out and check on them daily for a few days, just to make sure.  She’s the first delivery I’ve done since the war and I want to make sure they’re all right. We have some tissues we need to get rid of, right now, but all seems well.