Sea of Strangers (Nurses of New York Book 1) Page 5

  Millie sighed, which wasn’t quite the deep breath Jeanette had meant, but it was a start. “I suppose you’re right. The first time will be the hardest, and then it will get easier, I presume.”

  “That sounds about right.”

  Jeanette and Millie let the head nurse know they were there, then walked down to the surgery to find the doctors they were assisting. Dr. Gregory met Jeanette in the hallway.

  “There you are,” he said abruptly. “I was beginning to wonder if you had decided to go sightseeing instead.”

  “I’m sorry, Doctor,” Jeanette replied. “I thought we were on time.”

  “Be that as it may, I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes, and so has the patient.” He led the way into the room, where a young woman of about sixteen lay on the table. “This is an interesting case. She was born with webbing between her fingers. You may examine her, if you like.”

  Jeanette finished tying her apron and stepped closer to the table. “Hello,” she said to the girl. “Do you mind if I look at your hands?” The patient didn’t answer, but raised her arm. The skin grew up between her fingers about a half inch. She seemed to have freedom of movement for most tasks, but Jeanette imagined that anything such as playing the piano would be out of the question.

  “She has asked us to remove the excess skin. I’ve informed her that it will be painful, both during the procedure and in recovery, but this is something she wants,” Dr. Gregory continued.

  “What’s your name?” Jeanette asked the girl.

  “Hannah,” she replied in a small voice.

  “Hannah, I’m Jeanette. Will you tell me why you want this surgery?”

  “I . . . I don’t want people to stare at me anymore. It’s all right when I can keep my hands in fists, but if I need to use them for anything . . . I would just rather have the operation than to see everyone’s stares.”

  “How do your parents feel about this?”

  “Miss Anderson, we should be starting the procedure now,” Dr. Gregory said, his arms folded across his chest.

  “Of course. I was just getting to know our patient before we began.”

  “We will discuss that and a few other matters after we’re finished. Let’s get started.”

  They both washed. Dr. Gregory had just turned to the instrument tray when a nurse rushed into the room. “Doctor, you’re needed.”

  “I’m about to begin surgery,” he said. “What is so important?”

  “A man was struck by a carriage as he crossed the street in front of the hospital. He’s in terrible condition, and he needs to be seen right away. The other doctors can’t be interrupted.”

  “And I can?”

  “I beg pardon, Doctor, but you haven’t begun yet, so I feel you’re the best choice.” The nurse almost cringed as she said this, and Jeanette wondered if she would be reprimanded.

  Dr. Gregory whirled on his heel. “Very well. Miss Anderson, you’re with me. We’ll take care of this and then come back as quickly as we can.” He strode out of the room.

  “I’m sorry,” Jeanette said to Hannah as she hurried to follow. “We’ll try not to be long.”

  When Jeanette reached the room just inside the entrance where the accident victim had been brought, at first, she saw nothing but a pile of clothing. The man inside them was crumpled, almost looking inhuman in the way he lay. He must have broken a few bones—his position wasn’t natural. Then she moved around to look at his face. How . . . She gasped and staggered backward, almost knocking over the doctor in her clumsiness.

  “Miss Anderson, what on earth has gotten into you?”

  Jeanette couldn’t take her eyes off the patient, although she wanted nothing more in all the world never to see him again. “He’s . . . he’s my uncle,” she said at last, forcing her mouth to open and her voice to work.

  “Your uncle? Excellent. You can tell us all about him. Start with his name.”

  “His name . . .” Jeanette took a deep breath and swallowed, trying to fight the nausea that suddenly threatened her. Why was he in New York? He lived on the Colorado border. He was supposed to be three-quarters of the way across the country. He couldn’t be here. She must be mistaken. But even as she thought this, she knew she couldn’t lie to herself. He really was here. He’d found her, after everything they’d done to remove her from harm’s way.

  “What is his name, Miss Anderson?” Dr. Gregory’s voice was sharp, and she blinked.

  “I’m sorry. His name is Rod Peterson.”

  Dr. Gregory gave a quick nod. He unbuttoned Rod’s coat and pulled the lapels apart. Rod’s eyes never opened, for which Jeanette was more than thankful.

  After just a moment or two of examination, Dr. Gregory called out, “We need to get this man into surgery immediately.” Two staff members came into the room, grabbed the bed where Rod lay, and wheeled it down the hall, Dr. Gregory close behind. Jeanette tried to follow just as quickly, but her legs were jelly, and her stomach roiled. Her task was to assist Dr. Gregory with anything he needed, but how could she help him treat Rod? After everything he’d done . . . everything he’d threatened to do . . . She pressed her hand to her stomach as she walked. How could she do this?

  A month ago when she’d held a gun and threatened to shoot him, she’d thought that was the end of it. She’d thought she would never have to see him again. He’d even started fading from her mind and was no longer the ever-present shadow that threatened to pull the joy out of whatever she experienced. Now he was here, intruding on the next step she was taking to find happiness. This couldn’t possibly be some sort of coincidence—he didn’t just decide one day to come to New York. He’d known she was here, he’d followed her, and now he lay on an operating room table, waiting for her to take care of him.

  Jeanette took a deep breath before entering the room. She tied on a fresh apron with trembling fingers, willing herself not to look at the man on the table. She checked to make sure all the instruments were laid out and ready to use. Meanwhile, Dr. Gregory had pulled off Rod’s jacket and shirt, exposing a long gash across his abdomen.

  “I shall assume this was caused by a horse’s hoof,” the doctor said, examining the wound. “However, the cause is not important. Our task is to stitch it up before he loses any more blood. Keep the ether bottle handy. He may remain unconscious during the procedure, but if he should begin to rouse, you’ll need to sedate him. You’ve been taught how?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that Dr. Russell is teaching you the most current techniques. We used to use chloroform, but it was too unpredictable, and we lost patients during the most minor of procedures. Ether is really the best choice.” Dr. Gregory rolled up his sleeves, then washed again. “Needle and thread, please.”

  Jeanette reached out to hand him the threaded needle, but found that she couldn’t grasp it from the tray. Her fingers would not close around it.

  “Miss Anderson, will you be able to assist me, or should I call another nurse? Perhaps asking you to help your own uncle was too much.”

  She snapped into focus. “No. No, I can do it.” She would not have him think her anything less than professional, and she would not let Rod do one more thing to keep her from fulfilling her dream. She handed the needle to the doctor, then watched as he made a long, neat row of stitches across Rod’s abdomen. She kept an eye on her uncle’s face for any sign that he was regaining consciousness, but he remained asleep. That was almost disappointing—she had looked forward to trying her hand at ether sedation after learning about it that morning.

  When Dr. Gregory reached the end of the row, he asked for scissors, which she handed him. Then she used a towel to wipe up the blood on Rod’s chest and stomach and placed a bandage across the wound.

  “I believe that in time, he’ll make a full recovery, as no internal organs were damaged. Now we’ll address his broken arm. Thankfully, it’s not a compound fracture. We should be able to set it easily. Fetch those splints from the shelf on the wall. I
’ll need them in a moment.”

  Dr. Gregory braced himself by placing a knee on the table, picked up Rod’s arm, and gave it a tug. Jeanette heard a pop, and her gaze flew to her uncle’s face. He was still asleep.

  “Place one splint here, like so.” Dr. Gregory showed Jeanette how to lay the splint in place and wrap it, then the other. Then he took a length of fabric to create a sling. “He’ll be in pain when he wakes up, but we’ll administer laudanum as necessary.”

  “I’m experienced with laudanum,” Jeanette replied.

  “Good,” Dr. Gregory said. “Now do you suppose we can perform our original surgery? I was looking forward to removing that webbing—it’s a curiosity to me.”

  “Yes, I believe we can,” Jeanette replied, taking a step back and exhaling. She’d done it. It would have been so easy to refuse, to tell Dr. Gregory to find someone else, but she’d pushed through her shock and she’d even earned some praise for her efforts. Rod would not win—not today, not any day.

  The skin removal surgery went well. Jeanette was able to practice ether sedation on Hannah, and then she watched as Dr. Gregory carefully guided the scalpel down between the girl’s fingers to remove the excess skin. He wasn’t a kind man, but he was skilled, and he managed the surgery without causing excessive bleeding. After he was finished, he set Jeanette to the task of bandaging up the girl’s hands while he went to check on his other patients, telling Jeanette that she was free to go once she had finished.

  After the last bit of gauze had been fastened into place, Jeanette left Hannah sleeping peacefully in her bed and walked out of the hospital, feeling as though she’d lived a thousand lifetimes since she’d walked into it. Had it really only been eight hours ago? The sky was dark, and as she looked straight up, she could see stars overhead, even though it wasn’t late. Her overstuffed mattress would feel particularly good that night.

  When she reached the house, she found Dr. Russell waiting for her in the entryway. “A word, Miss Anderson,” he said, motioning toward the library.

  What had she done? He looked so severe. She untied the ribbons and removed her hat as she crossed the floor, hoping with all her might that he wasn’t about to expel her from the program. Whatever she’d done, she could put it right, couldn’t she?

  Dr. Russell closed the library door, then stood there with his hands behind his back. He didn’t speak for a few minutes, and the tightness in Jeanette’s throat grew.

  “What is it, Dr. Russell? Have I broken a rule?”

  Her question seemed to pull Dr. Russell from his reverie. “No, no,” he said, striding across the room and gesturing for her to sit. He took the chair near hers and leaned forward on one elbow. “Miss Anderson—Jeanette, if I may—a nurse from St. Timothy’s came to find me after her shift today, and I heard about what happened this afternoon. With your uncle.”

  Jeanette looked down at her lap. “I didn’t mean to hesitate like I did. It was just a shock, seeing him here when he’s supposed to be in Colorado.”

  “I didn’t call you in here to censure you, Jeanette. I wanted to know if you’re all right.”

  Jeanette looked up and blinked back a tear. “I believe I am, sir. I did what I was asked to do, even though I was tempted to let someone else take over for me. And I feel better for it.”

  “You do? How so?”

  Jeanette leaned back, trying to put her feelings into words. “For a moment, it was as though Rod’s life was in my hands, and I chose to give it to him. I was in the position of power for the second time, and for the second time, I did what I needed to do. Perhaps it’s silly and imaginative of me, but by helping him in his hour of need, I became the better person, and I feel vindicated somehow.”

  Dr. Russell studied her. “I believe you’ve learned a very important lesson today, one that you could not have learned from Miss Cantrell or myself. You will excel in this world, not just as nurse, but as a human being. I’m proud of you.”

  Jeanette blinked back a few more pesky tears. “Thank you, Doctor. I might even be a little proud of myself.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “You have every right. Every right indeed. Now, there’s something else I must tell you. After I spoke with the nurse about your situation, I went over to the hospital, and there I found a police constable standing guard and waiting to take your uncle into custody as soon as he’s recovered. It seems that Mr. Peterson brought a gun along with him on his journey, and decided to use it against some passengers on the train as it pulled into the New York stop. He robbed them and fled. Thankfully, no one was injured, but they were certainly frightened.”

  “So he’ll be going to jail?” Jeanette asked, almost not understanding what Dr. Russell had said.

  “That’s right.”

  “Good. I mean, I’m sorry he robbed those people, but I’m glad he’ll be going to jail.” If only he could also be held accountable for the threats he’d made, the innuendos, the insults, the slurs over the years. “I don’t suppose the constable said anything about me—how Rod found me?”

  Dr. Russell shook his head. “Your name didn’t come up at all. He was only there in regards to the robbery.”

  Jeanette nodded. “Perhaps Rod will say something about it when he wakes up. I’d just like to know if he’s been watching me.” The thought made a chill run down her back. “But I won’t worry about it. That’s a frivolous waste of time.”

  Dr. Russell stood. “I imagine you’re quite hungry. Mrs. Everett set aside some dinner for you. Go eat and rest. You deserve a quiet evening.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. I think that sounds wonderful.”

  ***

  Jeanette all but sank into the chair at the desk in the parlor. Mrs. Everett had fussed over her, bringing her extra pie even though she hadn’t asked for it. She had no idea if Mrs. Everett knew what she’d been through that day, and she didn’t ask. It was nice to be pampered, and she’d accept it willingly.

  She pulled out a fresh piece of paper and began to write.

  Dear Phillip,

  Today I learned that I can do anything. That’s something I started learning at the Brody Hotel, but I suppose it required several lessons. I’m exhausted tonight, but happy. Truly, deeply happy. I know I’m where I’m supposed to be for now. When my training is over, I’ll come home to you, and then I’ll be where I belong for the rest of my life. Your love for me is what keeps me going. My love for you gives me strength. May it ever be so.

  Jeanette

  The End

  Author’s Note:

  I greatly enjoy writing historical fiction and bringing tidbits of real life into my stories. It was fun to research Woman’s Hospital, Dr. Sims, and Dr. Emmett. I also had fun looking into medical procedures of the time—it certainly expanded my appreciation for modern hospitals and drugs. While Woman’s Hospital and the two above-mentioned doctors are taken from history, Dr. Russell and his training program exist only in my imagination.

  A

  sneak peek at Cause of Conflict, book two of Nurses of New York . . .

  “Miss Jones!”

  Sophie turned from the tray of surgical instruments she’d been organizing. Dr. Gregory sounded angry—but then again, he always sounded angry, and particularly at her. “Yes, Doctor?”

  He stormed up to her, his handsome face turning red. “Am I to understand that you told Mr. Green he could go home?”

  “That’s right. As per your instructions.”

  “What exactly were my instructions, Miss Jones?”

  She smiled, hoping that would help her voice sound gentle. It seemed he was always finding fault with her. “You said I should change his bandage and then discharge him.”

  Dr. Gregory pressed his lips together. “I wanted to examine his wound before he was discharged.”

  “I’m sorry, Doctor. That wasn’t made clear to me.”

  “It wasn’t made clear to you? Miss Jones, there are some things you simply must figure out for yourself. If a patient has a wound that has
been treated regularly over the course of the last several days, might it not stand to reason that his doctor would like to check on its progress before the patient is sent out of sight? Couldn’t you have surmised that for yourself? I’m not your governess, Miss Jones. I shouldn’t have to tell you every little thing.”

  Sophie nodded, smiling even more brightly. “I understand, Doctor. I’ll do it differently next time.”

  “I certainly hope so.” Dr. Gregory gave a sharp nod. “Is this room ready for the next surgery?”

  “Nearly. I was just arranging the instruments.”

  “I expect to be able to start in ten minutes.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  He strode out of the room, and Sophie leaned against the table, her knees suddenly weak. Hopefully he’d calm down before surgery began or he’d be even more impossible to work with.

  Her roommate, Jeanette, stuck her head through the door. “I heard him yelling out here in the hall,” she said. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course,” Sophie replied with a grin. “It takes more than copious amounts of public humiliation to make me quit. I’m determined to soften him up one of these days.”

  “I hope you’re successful. It would be good for all of us.”

  Jeanette returned to helping Dr. Wentworth, and Sophie finished preparing the room. A moment later, the patient was wheeled in, and Dr. Gregory came back.

  “I trust you’re ready?” he asked as he washed up.

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “We will be stitching a laceration along the patient’s arm. I’ll need needle and thread immediately.”

  “Of course, Doctor.”

  As they began their work on the patient, Sophie took advantage of the moment to study Dr. Gregory. When she’d first met him, she’d thought he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen, and her opinion hadn’t changed, even though he had a temper. His hair was black as midnight on a moonless night, and his eyes were a vibrant blue. When he was angry—which was most of the time—they flashed like lightning. She would love to sit and stare at him sometime when he wouldn’t notice what she was doing.