smile twitched at Captain Fletcher's firm lips.
"Lewis will have it for you in my cabin, Doctor. If you need me, send him."
"Thank you, Captain," Charley said, and waited for him to leave. He looked back at his brother one more time, then sighed and exited the cabin, heading back to his duties.
Charley stepped in and smiled at Henry Fletcher.
"Good morning, Mr. Fletcher. How are you today?"
"Maimed," the young man said sullenly, and waived his bandaged arm at her, then winced as the movement brought fresh pain.
"Stop that," Charley snapped. "Of course you are maimed, to pretend otherwise is foolish! But self-pity will only cause others to treat you like a cripple instead of a whole man. Is that what you want?"
This wasn't what she'd planned to say, but it seemed to be the only thing she could say. Perhaps in time she would develop skills to soothe patients, but for now she had to work on getting Henry Fletcher to accept that his life would be different, but not ended.
Her harsh words took the young man aback, and he stared at her. "You do not coddle your patients, do you, Doctor?"
"Not unless they need coddling, Mr. Fletcher. Is that what you need?"
"No, Doctor," he said meekly.
She made that "hmph" noise her father and other doctors she knew used when they didn't want to waste words in idle chit-chat, then sat alongside him on the bunk and felt his forehead and neck for fever. His temperature was slightly elevated, but not enough to be alarming. She took his pulse and listened to his lungs with her ear on his chest.
"I need to examine you, Mr. Fletcher. Did you pass water today?"
He nodded.
"Good. I will be as careful as I can, but it will hurt. You can take laudanum afterward."
"I will not need it," he said, but sweat was springing out on his forehead as even the small stresses of the examination caused him pain.
"You will," Charley said, as she undid the bandages and checked the site for suppuration and excessive bleeding, then bandaged him back up.
"We will fashion a sling for protection for your limb while it heals. I strongly encourage you to return to normal duties as quickly as possible, while keeping your arm immobilized."
"What use is a one-armed sailor aboard a privateer?"
"Privateer? I thought you were pirates. At least, that's what Captain Fletcher said when he kidnapped me."
Henry looked surprised. His was a softer version of his brother's face, its youthful lines edging into manhood, but the resemblance was strong.
"David told you we were pirates? You did not come willingly?"
"Why would I leave a perfectly good English merchantman to come aboard an enemy American ship?"
Now Henry looked angry.
"He did it for me, the fool! He swore he would find a doctor, but taking one as a prisoner--"
He looked fretful and he had enough on his mind, so Charley tried to reassure him. "Pirate or privateer, I am sure Captain Fletcher and I can work this out. And I am glad he took me aboard the ship to help you. What is the name of this vessel, anyway?"
"You are aboard the Fancy , Doctor, the finest schooner to ever sail out of Baltimore."
"The Fancy , eh? It does not look very fancy to me."
"That is because you have not seen her in action," said a deep voice.
Charley jumped and looked behind her. She hadn't heard David Fletcher enter the cabin, not surprising since he was barefoot and moved with a cat's sinewy grace. She wrenched her thoughts away from those dangerous waters and frowned at him.
"We must talk, Captain," she said sternly, but turned back to Henry.
"As I said, I am glad I could be of assistance to you, Mr. Fletcher. Right now, that is what is most important. Captain," she said, without looking at him as she finished up her examination, "I need a piece of sturdy cloth suitable for a sling. When Mr. Fletcher returns to duty, he needs to minimize any further trauma to his arm until I take the sutures out."
"How long do the sutures stay in?" Henry asked.
"Ideally, they should stay in at
"Lewis will have it for you in my cabin, Doctor. If you need me, send him."
"Thank you, Captain," Charley said, and waited for him to leave. He looked back at his brother one more time, then sighed and exited the cabin, heading back to his duties.
Charley stepped in and smiled at Henry Fletcher.
"Good morning, Mr. Fletcher. How are you today?"
"Maimed," the young man said sullenly, and waived his bandaged arm at her, then winced as the movement brought fresh pain.
"Stop that," Charley snapped. "Of course you are maimed, to pretend otherwise is foolish! But self-pity will only cause others to treat you like a cripple instead of a whole man. Is that what you want?"
This wasn't what she'd planned to say, but it seemed to be the only thing she could say. Perhaps in time she would develop skills to soothe patients, but for now she had to work on getting Henry Fletcher to accept that his life would be different, but not ended.
Her harsh words took the young man aback, and he stared at her. "You do not coddle your patients, do you, Doctor?"
"Not unless they need coddling, Mr. Fletcher. Is that what you need?"
"No, Doctor," he said meekly.
She made that "hmph" noise her father and other doctors she knew used when they didn't want to waste words in idle chit-chat, then sat alongside him on the bunk and felt his forehead and neck for fever. His temperature was slightly elevated, but not enough to be alarming. She took his pulse and listened to his lungs with her ear on his chest.
"I need to examine you, Mr. Fletcher. Did you pass water today?"
He nodded.
"Good. I will be as careful as I can, but it will hurt. You can take laudanum afterward."
"I will not need it," he said, but sweat was springing out on his forehead as even the small stresses of the examination caused him pain.
"You will," Charley said, as she undid the bandages and checked the site for suppuration and excessive bleeding, then bandaged him back up.
"We will fashion a sling for protection for your limb while it heals. I strongly encourage you to return to normal duties as quickly as possible, while keeping your arm immobilized."
"What use is a one-armed sailor aboard a privateer?"
"Privateer? I thought you were pirates. At least, that's what Captain Fletcher said when he kidnapped me."
Henry looked surprised. His was a softer version of his brother's face, its youthful lines edging into manhood, but the resemblance was strong.
"David told you we were pirates? You did not come willingly?"
"Why would I leave a perfectly good English merchantman to come aboard an enemy American ship?"
Now Henry looked angry.
"He did it for me, the fool! He swore he would find a doctor, but taking one as a prisoner--"
He looked fretful and he had enough on his mind, so Charley tried to reassure him. "Pirate or privateer, I am sure Captain Fletcher and I can work this out. And I am glad he took me aboard the ship to help you. What is the name of this vessel, anyway?"
"You are aboard the Fancy , Doctor, the finest schooner to ever sail out of Baltimore."
"The Fancy , eh? It does not look very fancy to me."
"That is because you have not seen her in action," said a deep voice.
Charley jumped and looked behind her. She hadn't heard David Fletcher enter the cabin, not surprising since he was barefoot and moved with a cat's sinewy grace. She wrenched her thoughts away from those dangerous waters and frowned at him.
"We must talk, Captain," she said sternly, but turned back to Henry.
"As I said, I am glad I could be of assistance to you, Mr. Fletcher. Right now, that is what is most important. Captain," she said, without looking at him as she finished up her examination, "I need a piece of sturdy cloth suitable for a sling. When Mr. Fletcher returns to duty, he needs to minimize any further trauma to his arm until I take the sutures out."
"How long do the sutures stay in?" Henry asked.
"Ideally, they should stay in at
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