The Savage Heart by Diana Palmer Read Free Book Online Page A

tending.”
    â€œOf course it will. Wait outside again if you don’t mind, young man,” he added, assuming, as Matt had meant him to, that Tess had done the treatment herself.
    â€œCertainly,” Matt said formally, and went out of the room.
    The doctor pulled the robe aside and probed the wound carefully. “What did this?”
    She winced at the unpleasant examination. “A cane, I believe.”
    â€œNo, ma’am. More probably the point of a sword cane,” he corrected. “A nasty deep cutting wound, too. I’ll do what I can, but you’re going to be very sick for a few days, young woman. This wound will have to be carefully watched for sepsis. I’m to be called at once if you see red streaks on your arm…or a greenish discoloration around the wound.”
    â€œI’m a nurse, sir,” she said in a strained tone. “My father was a physician.”
    â€œIndeed!”
    â€œI work in the Cook County Hospital,” she added.
    â€œI thought you looked familiar. What a small world. And how fortunate that you knew what to do for this. I shan’t need to lecture you on how to tend it, shall I?” he added with a small chuckle.
    He swabbed the wound with more alcohol, then began to take stitches while she recited the alphabet through gritted teeth.
    â€œI have only a small amount of suturing material with me,” he explained. “That wound could do with a few more stitches, but I think the three I’ve made will hold just fine.” He applied a neat bandage.
    â€œYou’ll send for me if there are any problems,” he said, rising. “And you won’t work until the wound heals,” he added firmly.
    â€œYes, sir,” she said with a resigned sigh, wondering how she was going to earn her crust of bread. She still had a little of the nest egg her father had left her. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to use too much of it. “You’ll send your bill?”
    â€œMy wife will,” he said kindly. “And now I’ll give you something to make you sleep.”
    He left a bottle of laudanum with instructions on its use, gave her a polite nod and a smile as he snapped his bag shut and left.
    Somber and quiet, Matt entered only minutes later. “The doctor said that he gave you something to make you rest.”
    â€œYes. This.” She indicated the cork-stoppered brown bottle.
    â€œI’ll fetch a spoon.”
    â€œCan’t I have it in water?”
    â€œAll right.”
    There was a glass carafe near the bed. He poured water from it into its matching cup, mixed the drug for her and watched her gulp the bitter-tasting draft.
    â€œIf you have fever, and you probably will, you’ll have to be sponged down,” he said. “I’d prefer to stay with you myself, but it just wouldn’t be acceptable, Tess. You know that. Mrs. Mulhaney already has complained about your nursing and your work in the women’s movement. We don’t dare make matters worse.”
    She felt very sick, and her arm was hurting badly. She looked up at Matt, only half hearing him. “I feel terrible.”
    â€œNo doubt.” He brushed wisps of hair back from her face. “I’m going to find someone to sit with you. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
    Her hand caught his, and she held it to her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered wearily.
    His face was unreadable, but his fingers lightly caressed her cheek before he drew them away. “Try to sleep,” he said. “The laudanum should help.”
    â€œYes.”
    He eased out the door and closed it behind him, his dark face taut with anger. It made no sense at all that someone should deliberately stab her, but that was the only logical explanation for what had happened. And he had a sick feeling that wounding her had not been the goal of her attacker. Far from it. She’d mentioned rolling away from trampling feet just before