Ezra sat in the chair beside the bed where Chris Larabee was tossing in the throes of a fever-induced nightmare. Rose Cross continued to try and bring down the fever, but as quickly as the cloth was placed on his forehead it seemed to dry out.

 

“No…no…Ella, …damn you!”

 

“Who is Ella?” Rose asked as she tried to calm the injured man.

 

“She is a despicable woman with a heart of ice. She is responsible for the death of his wife and son.”

 

“My God, that’s awful. How long ago?”

 

“I believe it will soon be five years and he has never forgotten.”

 

“Is she in prison?”

 

“One can only hope, but alas I fear she is out there just waiting for the right time to attack this man’s soul once more.”

 

“You seem to care a lot about him.”

 

“He is a good man and a strong judge of character,” Standish explained.

 

“Yours?”

 

“Yes, and many others. Chris saw something in me I didn’t even know existed and for that I owe him more than just thank you.”

 

“It seems to me you’ve done a lot for him,” Rose countered.

 

“Nothing any of the others wouldn’t have done.”

 

“How many are in this group of peacekeepers,” the woman asked as she placed another cloth on Larabee’s forehead.

 

“Counting Chris and myself there are seven.”

 

“Seven…seven peacekeepers…Four Corners? Wait a minute, are you the group they are calling The Magnificent Seven?”

 

“That moniker has been attached to us,” Standish said, pride evident in his voice.

 

“I read about you in a dime store novel my husband bought. He’s always had a love of reading and has an autographed copy of Jock Steele’s story.”

 

“Jock Steel had a tendency to embellish the facts, Mrs. Cross.”

 

“That’s something most writers need to succeed.” She stood up and hurried to the window. “I believe Dr. O’Neil has arrived. Stay with your friend and I’ll bring her up.”

 

Ezra nodded and took the woman’s place and began bathing the sweat soaked face once more. “Well, Chris, the doctor is here and hopefully she…she’ll be able to get the bullet out and you’ll be as good as new in no time.”

 

“Ez…”

 

“I thought you were sleeping.”

 

“N…not really, … mostly dreaming…fire…so hot.”

 

“Yes, well, that’s not from any fire, My Friend. You have a mean fever right now, but the doctor is here now and will help you.”

 

“O…okay…w…where are w…we?”

 

“I’m not exactly sure, but it seems we rode west and away from the mountains.”

 

“What about the m…men c…chasing us?’

 

“I don’t know. They haven’t showed up.”

 

“B…better w…warn  t…these people.”

 

“I will…”

 

“Excuse me, but would you kindly move out of the way so I can examine my patient,” a distinctly female voice sounded from just inside the doorway and Ezra turned around not at all surprised to see a pretty woman enter the room with Rose Cross.

 

“Certainly, Mrs.…”

 

“Jennifer O’Neil. Dr. Jennifer O’Neil,” the woman said and quickly took the chair beside Larabee’s bed.

 

“Y…you’re a…”

 

“Doctor, yes that’s right Mr….”

 

“L…Larabee. Chris,” the blond rasped through his dry throat.

 

“Yes, well, Chris, I do hope you are not prejudiced against female physicians because it looks like you need help immediately.”

 

“N…no…not prejudiced,” Larabee countered and stared into the woman’s soft brown eyes.

 

“Good, now Rose tells me you have a bullet in your back. Can you move your legs?”

 

“T…think so,” the blond said as he shifted on the bed and moaned softly.

 

“I bet. Okay, here’s what I need to do. Rose, you and this gentleman bring me some more water and linens. I need my instruments put in hot water before I can do anything about his back.”

 

“Come on, Mr. Standish,” the Cross woman ordered and drew the man away from the bed.

 

“Now, Chris, your friend is gone and it’s just me and you. How’s the pain right now?”

 

“I…it’s o…”

 

“Not acceptable. I want the truth,” O’Neil ordered and watched Larabee’s face contort in pain.

 

“H…hurts…b…bad,” the blond answered honestly.

 

“That’s what I thought. I’m going to check you over rather thoroughly and I don’t want you too uncomfortable so I am going to give you a shot of morphine. Have you had morphine before?”

 

“O…once or t…twice,” Chris answered.

 

“Were you addicted?”

 

“No…don’t think s…so.”

 

“Very good,” O’Neil said as she opened her bag and pulled out a vial and syringe.

 

Chris watched her as she drew the liquid into the syringe. When she was done she wrapped a piece of material around his arm just above the elbow. Several times she patted his arm and then lifted the needle and put the tip against his skin.

 

“This may hurt a little,” the physician said as she expertly inserted the needle and slowly injected the medication. When she finished she withdrew the needle and placed it on the table. “Now that should help ease the pain some, but I’m afraid that’s about all I can give you until I finish my examination.”

 

“T…thanks, Doc…h…helping a…already,” the blond answered.

 

“Good, I guess we’ll start with your arm,” she said and slowly prodded the limb. She found the break and looked at him sympathetically. “I’m going to need to set this and immobilize it.”

 

“O…okay,” Larabee mumbled as the morphine began to affect his voice. His eyelids were growing heavy and he fought to keep them open.

 

“The morphine is going to make you sleepy, Chris, so just relax and give into it,” O’Neil ordered.

 

“Hmm,” the gunman mumbled. He heard several voices talking at once and forced his eyes open once more in time to see Ezra and Rose Cross return. His mouth was dry and he was grateful for the medication when the physician set his arm. He gasped for air and struggled with his dwindling senses as nauseous bile rose in his throat once more. The doctor’s quick hands saved them from having to clean the bed as she placed a basin underneath his mouth.

 

“It’s done, Chris, your arm is set,” O’Neil explained.

 

“T…thanks…”

 

“You’re welcome,” she said as she quickly bound his arm to his chest. “All right, Mr. Standish, do you mind if we use first names since I’m going to be using you a lot over the next few hours.”

 

“That would be acceptable, Dr. O’Neil.”

 

“Good, now what I want is to get him over on his stomach. I need to get a look at the wound.”

 

“Certainly, Doctor,” Standish said and moved to the opposite side of the bed.

 

“Chris, we’re going to turn you onto your stomach,” the physician explained as she watched the eyes move behind closed lids.

 

“O…okay.” Chris braced himself for the move, but cried out as they shifted him carefully and soon had him on his stomach. He felt tears in his eyes, but refused to let them fall as the woman’s hands eased the bandaging from the wound. Her touch was gentle, but skilled as she prodded the area around the bullet wound.

 

Ezra winced sympathetically as he looked at the ravaged skin around the puckered bullet hole in his friend’s back. He knew the wound was infected and would need to be purged of the putrid fluid inside.

 

“Rose, are my instruments ready?”

 

“Yes, Jenny, what would you like me to do?”

 

“Well, first we need to make sure Chris can’t move.”

 

“He’s nearly unconscious now, Doctor,” Standish explained as Larabee’s breathing seemed a little less harsh.

 

“That may very well be, but I assure you when I start digging in there for the bullet he won’t lie still for it. I need his arms and legs restrained. Rose, do you have anything we can use?”

 

“Certainly, Jenny, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

 

“Chris, can you hear me?”

 

“Hmm,” Larabee murmured.

 

“I don’t want to frighten you, but we’re going to have to tie you down until I get the bullet out. There’s no way you’ll be able to lay still while I do this. Understand?”

 

“Y…yeah, I t…think so. Damn t…tired, Doc.”

 

“I know you are and as soon as we finish this I’m going to let you sleep while I check your other wounds. Okay?”

 

“O…okay,” the blond agreed and soon felt his arms and legs being lifted. He knew what they were doing and still he wanted to fight, but there was just no strength left for him to call on.

 

“Just breathe slowly, Chris,” the physician advised as she gently touched the trembling man’s shoulder as Rose Cross returned.

 

“O…okay…damn…s…sorry.”

 

“No need to apologize, I’ve heard a lot worse than that. Rose, you and Ezra tie his feet to the end of the bed!” She knew this was going to make her patient even more uncomfortable, but again it was necessary to ensure he remained still. By the time they had the man secured she could tell he was drifting towards sleep once more.

 

“Jenny, is there anything else I can get you?”

 

“No, I think we’re ready to begin. Ezra, I want you on that side of the bed. If Chris wakes up I want you to talk to him.”

 

“Yes, Dr. O’Neil,” Standish answered and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

 

O’Neil gently pried the bandaging away from the injury revealing the raw wound produced by the bullet. No matter how often she removed a bullet from a man’s body it sickened her to see the damage it caused.

 

“Jenny, I have fresh water here,” Rose said.

 

“Thanks, Rose, would you pour some carbolic in it for me?” She watched as her friend did as she told her and reached for a cloth to clean the area. Even in his semi-conscious state her patient flinched away from the burning caused by the cloth against his skin. She heard Standish talking to the injured man, but didn’t really know what he was saying as she reached for the scalpel. She nodded to the man across the bed before placing a hand on Larabee’s lower back and placing the sharp instrument against his wound.

 

Chris languished in a soft place as the morphine eased the pain and set him adrift from the world around him. He heard Standish’s voice as if from a distance and smiled at the thought of the talkative man’s use of five-dollar words. His eyes were closed and he felt someone touch his back just before a white-hot shard of pain erupted in his lower back. He cried out and gritted his teeth as his hand clenched tightly to the sheet underneath him. He had no idea who or what was digging into his back and all he wanted was to escape the twisting spike in his back.

 

“Godddddd!” he groaned as the instrument continued burrowing under his skin.

 

“Easy, Chris,” Standish said and reached for the blond’s trembling hand. He felt Larabee clamp onto his fingers and knew from the powerful grip just how much pain his friend was in.

 

“Almost there!” O’Neil ground out as she pushed the instrument deeper into the wound.  “Got it! Damn, hold on, Chris!”

 

“S…stop…” Larabee hissed as the torture continued and he wished, not for the first time, for the blessed relief of unconsciousness. He cried out as he felt the physician continue her assault on his back and again tried to move away, but to no avail.

 

“Got it!” O’Neil said as the smashed piece of metal was removed from the wound. She quickly grabbed for a cloth and began cleaning the red-rimmed lesion. “Ezra, keep pressure on this!”

 

“Yes, Doctor,” Standish said, as sweat covered his forehead. He held the cloth to the wound as his eyes met those of the injured man. “It’s out, Chris, you can rest now.”

 

“O…okay,” the blond said and tried to regain control of his breathing. Each intake of breath sent jagged shards through his chest and he wished they would turn him so he could breathe without so much pain.

 

“Doctor, he seems to be having trouble breathing!” the gambler explained as the woman readied to stitch the cleaned wound closed.

 

“Chris, just a few minutes more and we’ll make you more comfortable. I just need to make sure this has stopped bleeding and won’t open up on you! Understand?”

 

“Y…yeah…h…hard t…to breathe.”

 

“I know, just a few minutes more.”

 

“O…okay,” the blond said as he felt the material removed from his back once more. He clamped onto Ezra’s hand as he struggled against the swift current of agony raging through his back. “God!”

 

“Hurry, Dr. O’Neil, he can’t take much more!” Standish explained as he watched Larabee closely. The blond’s face was covered in tiny beads of sweat, his hair soaked and stuck to his forehead, his eyes and mouth tightly clenched against the pain she was causing. He knew the woman was doing everything she could to ensure Larabee’s survival, but right now all he could see was the agony written across the handsome features.

 

“Not much longer, Chris,” O’Neil soothed, as she continued to close the wound. She knew Standish was afraid for his friend, but she had to finish this now, or chance a major infection on top of everything else.

 

Chris remained as still as he could until at last he heard the woman say she was finished. His breathing continued to be a problem as they removed the restraints and eased him onto his left side. Several pillows were placed in front of him so his body would remain in the position O’Neil wanted him in. Once the movement stopped and the doctor offered him some water he felt the morphine kick in once more and he gave in to the respite offered by unconsciousness.

 

“T…thanks,” he mumbled just before blacking out.

 

O’Neil breathed a sigh of relief as she looked at the injured man. She knew this was only the beginning and that her patient was looking at a long recuperation period. There was still the possibility of damage to his spine and she would have to watch him closely for other complications as well.

 

“Doctor, he is going to be all right now isn’t he?”

 

“Ezra, I’m not the type to hold back a punch and I won’t do that now. He’s going to have to fight hard to get past all of this. The broken ribs are already affecting his breathing and that can complicate things, bring on pneumonia and that would be extremely dangerous in Chris’ condition. We’re going to need to keep on top of everything in order to keep him alive.”

 

“I’ll do whatever I need to,” Standish assured him.

 

“Good, because right now he needs you to get some rest! He’s probably going to sleep for some time now and will need you more when he’s awake. Rose, do you have a room where he can get some sleep?”

 

“Of course. Follow me, Mr. Standish.”

 

“I…”

 

“You’ll go with her!” the physician ordered and watched as the man reluctantly stood up. She could see he really didn’t want to go, but right now she didn’t need two patients. “I’ll come get you if he asks for you.”

 

“Thank you,” Standish said and turned to leave.

 

O’Neil pulled the blanket over her patient and sat back rubbing her eyes. She’d treated many people, men, women, and children since coming to the town of Swift Creek, but none had been so badly injured as this man. She reached down and gently touched his forehead and wondered at the innocent look that came with deep sleep. She knew by the scars she’d seen on his body that this man had lived a hard life. She reached for the cloth and painstakingly washed the perspiration from the man’s face and neck. She knew the fever was only the beginning of the problems facing her patient and silently vowed to do everything in her power to help him heal.