The Last Ride of Caleb O'Toole by Eric Pierpoint Page B

people.”
    â€œWe were all drinking water from the Platte,” said Caleb.
    â€œWell, you’re lucky then,” said Dr. Sullivan. “Around here, Blue Hawk has them boil it. Smart.”
    â€œAnd now you’re a doctor too?” asked Julie.
    â€œYou find that hard to believe?” sniffed Dr. Sullivan, raising her eyebrow. “Most do. Pretty rare they say.”
    â€œI’ve never heard of a real woman doctor,” offered Julie curiously.
    â€œLearned by my father’s side, but it was my beloved mother who put it into my head to do it. She was quite a lady. Got my degree in Cincinnati, Ohio, at the University. It’s one of the few places there are for women to do that sort of thing.”
    â€œI didn’t know you could do that. Most girls I know would never have dreamed of it.”
    â€œWell, get used to it. It’s coming. Who knows, you might have the gift of it.” She winked at Julie. “I was raised to think I could do anything I want if I put my mind to it.” Dr. Sullivan laughed. “Part of being the daughter of two very opinionated people. Irish and Mexican and they fought all the time. And loved. With them, it was the same.”
    â€œWhat about Henderson?” asked Caleb.
    â€œHenderson’s another story. I stopped the bleeding but the infection is everywhere, and he’s been shot so many times, it’s a miracle he’s still among us. Just pulled out two slugs and I’m working on the third one. The bullet nearly shattered the bone clear through. Most doctors would amputate the leg right away, but I’m thinking I might not have to. They’re cleaning him up right now. He’s pretty weak, but he’s putting up a fight. How did you end up in the company of a man like that?”
    â€œIt’s a long story,” said Julie.
    â€œGood! I like conversation.” Dr. Sullivan reached out her hand to Julie. “Come, I could use your help. If you can handle it, you might learn something.”
    â€œMy help?” asked Julie as Dr. Sullivan pulled her toward the door.
    â€œIt’s a long shot, but I’m going to try to save Henderson’s leg, set it, and stitch him up. Fought me over the chloroform, but he should be about ready with all the whiskey I gave him. It’s going to hurt. Caleb, you come too,” ordered Dr. Sullivan. “I might need you to hold him down.”
    ***
    â€œSon of a skunk!” roared a staggering Henderson as he broke away from Caleb and two of the Pawnee women. “Get your daggone hands off me!” he cursed as he hobbled around the hut like a wounded buffalo in a drunken rage. Part of his leg bone poked out through his skin. Henderson crashed to the earthen floor, writhing in pain. Immediately, Caleb grabbed Henderson by his good leg and the two Indian women jumped on his arms. Dr. Sullivan took hold of the broken leg by the thigh.
    â€œListen to me, Henderson!” ordered Dr. Sullivan. “Your choice is lose the leg or let me get the bullet out and try to set it. If you don’t calm down, we will have to just knock you out, and I will have to amputate. You will hobble around the rest of your life, if you manage to live through it. And that is a big if. The infection may kill you. Do you understand?”
    â€œI’m not gonna let some woman doctor butcher me!” growled Henderson.
    â€œI ought to let you just die on your own for that rather ignorant remark,” answered Dr. Sullivan as she folded her hands across her chest and stared hard at the gunfighter. “Maybe the sawbones you were used to during the war would do a better job? All right then, so be it. You’re on your own.”
    â€œFine!” Henderson stuck an arrow in his teeth and bit down hard. “Set it then.”
    â€œGood, let’s get to work. Caleb, take hold of his broken leg at the ankle. When I say, pull hard as you can and twist to the left,”