<< Go Back

The Lady and the Mountain Doctor (The Mountain Series Book 2)

By Misty M. Beller

Order Now!

Chapter One

October 28, 1876
Bryant Ranch - Near Butte City, Montana Territory

Miriam Bryant plunged her knife through the deer's thick winter fur, just the way her brother taught her. Crimson saturated the snow underneath, and she clenched her eyes tight against the sight. An acrid odor permeated the air. Miriam spun away, inhaling deep gulps of air.

We need food. God sent this buck to help us through the winter. She repeated the words over and over in her head, as her stomach slowly unclenched. Finally, she turned back toward the brown-haired animal, knife clutched tight in her hand. Once again, she wished she could have let the deer bound away in freedom. But their meat supply was low, and she had to pull her weight on the ranch.

The whisper of air was her only warning before a force slammed into her back, knocking her forward. A scream rent the air, and she writhed away from the creature pressing her against the deer carcass. Pain pierced her body. Over and over. Everywhere the creature touched left new agony.

Miriam fought hard, rolling onto her side. Get away! She tried to crawl, but the animal was all around her, growling and screaming. A blast of pain shot through her leg, and her body jerked hard. She reached for the source of the pain, but her hands hit a furry head. She slammed her fists into it, again and again. Striking at the pain. Landing blows against the Creature.

At last, when her vision grew fuzzy, her fist no longer met fur. Had she hurt the animal enough to run it off? The pressure in her knee loosened, leaving behind a searing pain. She forced her elbows into the snow, dragging her body away from the spot. Away from the animal. Clenching her teeth, she rolled over. She had to move away from the nightmare creature. Every inch of her frame screamed in torture, but getting away from the animal mattered more than the agony. She couldn't risk another attack.

With the last ounces of strength left in her, she kept rolling. Pushing against the snow in one rotation after another. The freezing dampness of the icy flakes seeped under her coat, adding to the misery in her body. Finally, her muscles wouldn't move anymore. The world spun around her, and then blackness closed in.

Would anyone find her out here? But she couldn't make her mind focus on the thought…as the pain faded into blessed darkness.

#

October 28, 1876
Butte City, Montana Territory

Alex O'Nelly pressed hard on the mortar, grinding the root chunks against the wooden pestle. The Echinacea root had no scent, but tiny particles of powder drifted up to tickle his nose.

In the two months since he'd joined his brother, Bryan, at the clinic here in Butte, they'd run dangerously low on too many of their medicines. It seemed demand from the hordes of miners in town far outweighed the random shipments of supplies they received. But that wasn't all bad, because it gave Alex the opportunity to get to know the flora and fauna in the area. It'd been a long time since he'd ground his own herbs, but that was a skill that came back easily.

The front door in the next room slammed open, swelling the busy noises from the muddy street outside.

"Help! Doc Bryan, you in here? Miriam's hurt bad."

Alex dropped the tools to the counter and sprinted toward the connecting doorway. He barely stopped himself from crashing into Gideon Bryant in the opening.

"Alex." Gideon's face was a mask of panic as he grabbed Alex's arm and half-dragged him toward the open front door. "It's Miriam. She was attacked by mountain lion. Blood everywhere. She's not wakin' up."

Stopping beside the wagon bed, Alex gripped the side and surveyed the scene. A blonde woman lay bundled in several blankets. There weren't any obvious wounds, but her eyes were closed, her pale face streaked with blood and dirt. Leaves and twigs tangled in her golden hair. Reaching into the wagon, he rested his palm on her forehead. Warm, but not dangerously so. He held a finger to her upper lip. A faint tickle of air. Breathing, but not very strong.

Gideon was already in the wagon, gathering the blankets by her head in his fists. "Get the other end. We'll carry her in like a stretcher."

Alex did as directed. He'd only met Gideon a few times, as his ranch was up the mountain a couple hours. Bryan knew him well, though, since Gideon and his wife Leah had been instrumental in setting up Bryan's clinic in this remote mining city. He'd heard Bryan mention Gideon's sister Miriam who lived with them, but this was the first time Alex had laid eyes on her. The grim look on Gideon's face showed his fear.

Striding backwards, Alex carried the blankets wrapped around Miss Bryant's feet. Up the stairs, through the front office, and into the front examination room. "Easy does it." They held the woman suspended over the table for a moment, before lowering her to the wood surface.

Alex eased the blankets open, starting at her neck and working toward her feet. Her wool coat was torn in several places. Shredded, really. But the main damage wasn't obvious until he uncovered her legs.

Blood everywhere. Her skirt gathered in a wad at her thigh, revealing a red-soaked petticoat and the left leg twisted in an irregular angle at the knee. Alex sucked in a breath.

"Bad, isn't it?" Gideon's voice was flat, as if steeling himself for the worst.

Don't show your emotions. He knew better. He'd been instructed in the art of the poker-face all four years at the McGill Faculty of Medicine. But this knee was painfully damaged. Her attacker had torn through her stocking and through the skin, revealing tendon, cartilage, ligament, and bone underneath. This would take more than just stitching the exterior layers together.

He looked up at the man hovering over the patient's feet. "I'll need help with the surgery. Go get my brother. Should be at the Alice mine."

For a second, Gideon's eyes widened even more, darting between his sister and the window that overlooked the street. "All right." He strode toward the door, leaving Alex with a knot in his stomach, and a mountain of work ahead of him.

After cutting off the stocking, he inspected the rest of her. A few scratches that would need cleaning on her arm and calf, and deep puncture wounds on her back, but nothing that would require stitches. The position of the puncture wounds were high enough so they shouldn't have hit the lungs or other organs. But they were surely painful.

Focusing his attention on the knee, Alex cleaned the wound and prepared to examine the extent of the internal damage. A moan drifted from the woman, pulling his attention to her face. Her brows pulled together, creating deep furrows between them. Her eyes weren't open yet, but if the pain intensified from his efforts—which it surely would—that might bring her to full awareness. He moved to the cabinet and worktable to prepare the chloroform mask.

By the time boots sounded in the front room, Alex had inspected the wound in detail, and had a pretty good idea of what they'd need to do.

Male voices sounded through the wall, then Bryan entered the examination room alone. "What’s going on with Little Sister?" He submerged his arms in the washbasin by the door as he listened to Alex's debriefing.

"It doesn't look like there's bone displacement or significant damage to the cartilage. The lateral collateral ligament has a second degree tear, but the worst seems to be a large tear in the patellar tendon. I think we'll need to stitch it before closing the wound and splinting."

"Do you have materials ready to repair the tendon?" Bryan settled a clean smock over his flannel shirt.

"Yes, but do you want to examine the damage first to confirm the diagnosis?"

Bryan raised a brow at him. "You already did that, didn't you?"

"Yes, but…" Why did it bother him that Bryan trusted his work?

His brother clapped him lightly on the back. "You can take the lead and I'll assist."

Alex shrugged. "Let's get started then." After all, he'd spent the last nine years preparing to be a competent physician. What good was all that hard work if he didn't do what it took to save a life when the need arose?

Turning back to the patient, he positioned himself over her wounded knee. For just a second, he shot a glance at her pale face, loose blonde hair scattering across the table.

It was almost his undoing.

Order Now!

<< Go Back