Maggie made a choked sound and ran from theroom, one hand over her mouth, the other clutching her abdomen.
“Okay, not her.” He watched her depart, hissmile wry and amused.
Mother swallowed hard several times.
“I will.” Tillie half raised her hand. “Ihelped at the Weikerts’. I can assist you,” she repeated, as thoughtrying to convince herself as much as them.
“Good.” Wilson rose from the bed and rolledup his shirtsleeves. “Please.” He came and stood in front ofMother. “Get me some warm water so I can wash up and sterilize myinstruments.”
She murmured assent and took her leave.
He refocused his attention on his patient whohad passed out. “I think I can remove the bullet and clean theinfection to prevent spreading.” He stretched his arms and flexedhis fingers. “The ankle wound is healing well.” He glared atTillie. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
Startled by his abrupt manner, she opened hermouth to speak, but he cut her off.
“You boys.” He indicated Walt and Milt. “I’llneed you to keep the good colonel calm. In case he gets uppityduring the surgery.”
“Yes, sir.” They spoke in unison.
“Got any whiskey?” Not waiting for an answer,he turned to Tillie, eyebrows raised, awaiting her response.
She almost forgot the question. “Oh. Uh, yes,sir. I–I helped out at–at Mr. Weikert’s.” Heat crept up her face,and she took a step backward.
“Good.” He pointed toward the washstand asMother entered with a basin of steaming water and a clean toweldraped over her arm. “Put it there. Thank you, kindly.” He escortedMother out of the room and closed the door.
“Well.” He clapped his hands together andwent to the washbasin. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
* * * *
Tillie assessed the instruments while Dr.Wilson gave the two men a signal to roll the colonel onto hisstomach and hold him down.
They clamped down as he picked up a scalpeland widened the opening.
Colonel Colvill screamed.
“Hang tight, boys.” He cut the wound deeperand took the clamp she held ready for him.
The poor colonel struggled and fought, butcouldn’t escape the two holding him down with ease. He begged formercy, cried out, swore, and wept as with quick, savage movements,the physician probed for the bullet. Finally, the colonel passedout.
“That’ll keep him quiet.” Doctor Wilsonpushed the instrument deeper into the gap and manipulated it. “I’malmost finished…almost…there.” He twisted his wrist one more timeand extracted a mangled bloody object, which he dropped into a panTillie held out for him. He set down the tool and observed as she,with tender, gentle movements, cleaned and bandaged the wound.
“You do good work.”
Despite her fury over his callous disregardfor his patient’s well-being, she smiled at the compliment, hearinggruff approval in his voice. “I assisted Dr. Billings, who wasposted at the Weikerts’.”
“John Billings?”
“Yes, sir.” She packed the area a little moreand, with help from Walt and Milt, wrapped a bandage around thecolonel’s rib cage.
“A good man and a fine doctor.”
She grinned. “Yes, sir.”
* * * *
Tillie carried a basin of steaming hot water,preparing to go up the stairs without tripping over her skirts orspilling water. Mother followed with clean bandages, soap, and atowel. The colonel’s male nurses were going to give him a bath. Thedoorknocker clattered against the door. Tillie froze. Did she tryto go upstairs or answer the door?
“I’ll answer the door.” Mother turned Tillieback to the stairs. “You take the water up.”
Dr. Wilson returned to check his patient’sprogress. He came with another wounded man lying on a litter.Mother let them in.
“His name is Private Kline.” He gestured tothe young man carried up the stairs. “With such an accomplishednurse in the house, I decided to bring him here. He needs specialcare, and I don’t have enough people to help with him.”
“Of course.” Mother nodded. “We’ll look afterhim. Tillie in particular will see to him. Don’t worry.”
For three weeks, Private Kline recuperated inJames’s bed, becoming Tillie’s most trying patient. A bulletshattered his left elbow. His forearm and hand now hung limp anduseless.
“They might as well cut the stupid thing off,for all the good it’ll do me,” he bemoaned, for what seemed toTillie, the thousandth time.
“So why didn’t they amputate your arm whenthey had the chance?”
He glared at her. “No one will touch me witha saw. I’d rather leave the blasted thing hanging dead and uselessthan amputated.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Yousaid—”
“I know what I said,” he snarled. “But Icouldn’t stand the idea of them cutting off my arm. I’m soworthless now without both arms. Why didn’t I just die?”
“Don’t talk nonsense.” She scowled at him. Asmuch as she disliked his incessant whining, she recognized most mendid not handle their wounds well. So she swallowed her impatienceand remained kind and calm. Sometimes, though, her lack of goodgrace escaped her before she could stop herself. She tried a newtack and put mock ferocity in her voice. She gave him another sternglare as she tucked in his sheets. “I’ll not accept such talk, Mr.Kline. If you don’t cease and desist, I’ll tell Father to turn youout of the house.”
“You will not.” He turned away from her andstared out the window, self-pity and anger burning in his face.
Tillie wanted to smack him. “Don’t tempt me.”She sat in a chair next to the bed and took his left hand into herright one. “Try to squeeze my hand.” Using her best helping tone,she almost willed a sign of movement. They stared at his offendinglimb. “Don’t worry, Barney. Perhaps you need time.”
“No, Miss Tillie. You can see the muscles areshrinking. My left arm is smaller than my right and shorter too.The doc said the elbow is shattered and won’t work no more.”
Laying the appendage down, she pulled theblanket up. No sense trying to force things. “I’m sorry,Barney.”
“It’s all right.” His eyes traveled to thewindow. “Ain’t your fault.”
She pursed her lips and tried to think ofsomething comforting. “I’ll let you rest now.” She rose and leftthe room easing the door shut behind her. She let out a long, slowbreath and leaned her back against the door. She closed her eyes.“Heavenly Father, please be with Barney. Let
