her.”
His body tightened as if he was bracing himself to endure the pressure. Daisy’s eyes riveted on Doc’s. “He’s ready to move. You’ll let me know about Sam first thing?”
“Quick as I can. Got to see how bad the men outside are shot up.”
Daisy wanted to shut away the image of the body lying over the trough, but she had to keep focused on the bandage so she wouldn’t slip off the wound. She said a quick prayer for the townsman and stood in unison as the assistants rose with a firm hold on the stretcher and patient. Her unusual height equaled the men’s, easing the problem of adjusting their balance. “Are you coming with us, miss?” she asked the squeamish sister.
When she didn’t answer, Daisy used the woman’s Christian name. “Petula, I think you want to come with me.”
Petula blinked, looked at her hands then began to scrub them. She walked toward the door, muttering, “Mother’s going to be so angry. I’m not supposed to get dirty.”
Sympathy filled Daisy. The poor thing was dazed with worry. When they reached the unhinged, bullet-ridden door, Petula faltered. She stopped sniffling and her knees bent suddenly.
“What’s wrong?” Concern echoed in her brother’s tone. “I don’t hear my sister.”
Just about the time Daisy thought Petula might faint, the young woman reached for two heavy-looking valises next to the door. “She’s fine, sir.” Daisy felt compelled to reassure him. “Just picking up what must be your baggage.”
“Too heavy for her,” he gasped, trying to lift his head and shoulders as if he meant to get off the stretcher.
A considerate soul, Daisy noted.
“Got a handle on things in here?” asked a man who poked his head around the door, his piercing coffee-colored gaze intent upon studying each person. “Need any help?”
“Got it all in hand,” Doc said, “but I’d appreciate you making sure everybody’s got help outside, Teague.”
“Already done and the sheriff’s taken a posse and set out after the gang.”
Daisy wasn’t surprised to find Teague checking on things now. He had the fierce look of a predator, with eyes squinted by long days in the sun. Broad shoulders were cloaked in a worn duster, his legs stretching long from denim to boots that had seen better days. He looked like a man accustomed to riding hard trails, but he’d been hanging around High Plains lately.
All Daisy knew of him was that he was kind to Ollie and made a point of getting her home if she strayed too far.
“Could you help me carry my bags?” Petula seemed suddenly coherent enough to ask for assistance.
“You headed to Doc’s with them?” He linked one arm with hers and grabbed the baggage.
“Who’s that?” asked their patient, his body tensing.
“Someone who just wants to help.” Daisy tried to calm him. “Don’t worry.”
Doc Thomas’s office was around the corner from the mercantile and only took a few minutes for the men to carry him there. Daisy managed to hold the cloth steady on its target, but the real effort came from keeping the curious crowd away from the procession. By now, most in town knew of the robbery and wanted to help in some way. She suggested they check with Doc or secure the bank for Sam.
Doc’s office door was never locked. Teague set the baggage down just inside the entryway while Petula dismissed the parlor that had been made into a waiting room and disappeared into a hallway of doors. A few seconds later, she poked her head around the corner and motioned them all forward.
“In here,” she said, “there are a couple of beds in this room.”
Getting through the doorways proved harrowing since Daisy didn’t dare take her hand off their patient’s shoulder. She barely managed to squeeze through, bumping her elbow hard enough to leave a bruise. Daisy just managed to keep the pressure on the wound while they got him settled on the bed.
Only then did she notice the quality of her patient’s slightly worn but well-tooled boots, something her livelihood as a shoemaker made priority on most first meetings with strangers. He obviously appreciated skilled handiwork but wasn’t afraid to put some wear on it, either. A man of means but a working man no less. Her interest in getting to know more about him sparked.
One assistant interrupted her thoughts. “We’ve got to get this stretcher back to Doc, so we’re going to leave you ladies and that other fella with him for now. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
She nodded and checked on her patient. His eyes opened again to stare at Daisy, their blue-violet depths coherent despite the pain.
“We made it?”
“Yes, you did well.” She needed him to remain still and relaxed. “And so has your sister. Teague,” she said as she nodded at the baggage handler, “how about keeping this pressed down for me while I look for clean cloth?”
“No problem.” Teague didn’t hesitate and moved up to accommodate her.
“I can hold it myself.” Her patient’s hand reached up to wave him away.
“You’re going in and out too frequently.” Daisy gently grabbed his hand and pushed it back down. “I’ll hear no argument.”
“Sounds like she’s got her apron tied, friend. She means business,” Teague warned. “Best just lie still.”
Daisy gathered her will and braced herself for the challenge ahead. “Petula, help me get him cleaned up and the wound dressed as best we can before Doc returns. That will help speed things up.”
Helplessness darted over Petula’s face and she scrubbed her hands again. “I’ve never doctored anyone before.”
“I’m not asking you to. Doc will take out the bullet. Do you think you can put a pot of water on to boil in the kitchen?” His sister certainly didn’t have the same consideration her brother offered.
“He doesn’t have servants?”
Servants? Petula revealed more about them in that one question than if Daisy had spent the past few hours interviewing them for the list. They were people of means. “Doc doesn’t. It’s up to us. You’ll need to help, too.” Daisy added a stiff, “Please.”
“I’m afraid I’ve pampered my sister, ma’am,” her brother apologized. “Really, it’s no problem to wait until the doctor arrives.”
“It is a problem and we’re not waiting if I have to do this by myself.” Daisy rarely allowed her temper to flare, but the events of the day had worn down her best behavior.
Petula headed into the hallway, reluctance in every footfall. “Can someone show me how to heat the stove?”
“I’ll show her so you can stay here with him,” Teague offered. “It shouldn’t take long if Doc’s already got wood chopped.”
Petula turned, accepting his offer with a breath
