Yellowstone Heart Song (Yellowstone Romance Series Book 1) (13 page)

 Aimee studied his face for a moment.
That’s why he was so mad at me the other day. He thought I was drowning.

“I’m so sorry,” Aimee said sincerely. The urge to touch him made her fingers tingle. She hooked her thumbs through the shoulder straps in her backpack instead. “I’m sure you loved her a lot.”

Daniel shrugged. “I knew her all my life,” he said indifferently. “My foster mother wanted me to marry her. I would have honored the match out of obligation to her, not because of my feelings for Morning Fawn.”

Was that relief she felt? Would she have been jealous of Daniel’s feelings for a dead girl?

“Come on, there has to be someone you care about? You can’t tell me you’ve never been in love.”

Daniel’s hard stare told her she wasn’t going to get anywhere with her question. It was probably best to change the subject. “For a mountain man, the way you talk is quite . . . refined. You don’t sound like an uneducated dimwit.”

“Dimwit?” Daniel’s eyebrows pulled together.

It was her turn to grin. “Someone who’s not too bright in the head,” she offered, and tapped her index finger against her temple.

“My father’s upbringing. He is always honoring my dead mother in some way, and he knew she would not want me to be without an education. She certainly wouldn’t stand for it if I spoke like a . . . dimwit. He taught me to read, write, and cipher numbers during the winters when we were snowed in. Then I spent two years in Philadelphia with my father’s sister and her family. I attended Philadelphia University.”

Aimee was rather surprised that Daniel divulged so much information about himself. “Wow! I think you’ve just set a record,” she said incredulously.

“Set a record?” Daniel looked confused.

She giggled. “I’ve never heard you talk so much all at once.”

Daniel stared at her blankly.

“From your tone, I gather you didn’t like living in Philadelphia much.” Aimee was eager to keep the conversation going; glad he was finally talking to her.

“My father thought it would be good for me to live among civilized people and learn some culture.” His voice suddenly filled with contempt.

“I can’t picture you anywhere but here.” She looked him up and down, admiring his profile. He walked gracefully, as if on air, with light, fluid movements. He carried himself tall and erect, always alert to his surroundings. His rifle was cradled casually in the crook of his arm, but she didn’t doubt for a second that it was ready to fire at a moment’s notice.  “You must have been like a fish out of water back east.”

“This has always been my home. I was born in these mountains, and I don’t wish to live anywhere else.” Daniel’s face was impassive as he scanned for any danger in the distance.

If you only knew the truth.

They walked along in silence for a while, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Aimee kept going over some of the things he had – and hadn’t - said, and the way in which he had said them. Finally, she ventured, “So, who was she?”

Daniel stiffened visibly next to her.

“The girl who broke your heart,” she prodded. Things about him were starting to add up now. At least she had a theory. His dark looks of contempt that first day. The penetrating stares. Even the near-kiss in the river. She’d bet a month’s pay that she reminded him of someone, and his body language at the moment and the expression on his face when she glanced up at him told her she had hit the mark.

“No one I wish to speak of,” he finally said.

“I take it she’s someone you met in Philadelphia?” She couldn’t imagine any woman who wouldn’t be absolutely beside herself to have the attention of a man like Daniel. What a stupid twit for rejecting him.

“This is not something I wish to talk about,” Daniel said firmly. “It is in the past, and long forgotten.”

“But now that I’m here, the memories are coming back. I remind you of her, don’t I?” she asked softly.

“You share nothing in common with . . . her,” he finally said.

“I’m sorry she hurt you,” Aimee said sincerely. “Whatever she did, I know you didn’t deserve it.”

Daniel’s jaw clenched and unclenched.  “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He frowned. “No more talk of the past,” he said with finality.

Aimee’s curiosity was bursting at the seams, but she wouldn’t press the issue. Maybe another time she could bring it up again. What would cause a man like him to have his heart broken by a woman? She wanted to reach out to him, take away the hurt look in his eyes. Right at this moment, this dark, intimidating man looked more like a big puppy that had been kicked around. Under his hard, tough as nails façade was a deeply caring guy with a tender heart.

“How did you find me so easily?” she wondered, wisely changing the subject.

“Your boots leave heavy tracks,” Daniel answered. His body relaxed again. “But even in your moccasins, it would have been easy,” he said through a grin.

She couldn’t help but stare at him. The easy smile on his face made him all the more stunning. What stupid woman would let him go?

“Do you think those Indians are still in the area?” she asked in order to conceal her true thoughts.

“They were heading further south, following elk tracks,” Daniel said. “They were not on the hunt for white women yesterday.”

“Oh, very funny.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“Why do you wear clothes like a man?” Daniel questioned after minutes of walking in silence.

“How would you like to walk around in a dress?” she countered, and Daniel flashed her another bright smile.

Oh, God, you’re melting my heart.

“I don’t recall women in the east wearing britches or letting their hair down and uncovered. Is this a new acceptable fashion?”

“I never took much stock in what’s fashionable.” She shrugged. “I wear what I like and what feels comfortable, not what other people say I should wear.” Her last conversation with Brad popped into her mind.  She glared at him with narrowed eyes. “Do you disapprove of my choice of clothing, too, like you disapprove of me having an education or being a . . . a spinster? And don’t you even dare tell me to put my hair up!” She wagged a finger at him.

Daniel’s grin widened. “I don’t mind your clothes. They are much more practical here than if you wore a dress. And I never said I disapprove of you being educated or unwed. As for your hair,” Daniel paused and she noticed his eyes darkening.  “It would be a shame to hide it away under some cap.”

His arm moved, ever so slightly away from his side. He hesitated for a moment, then dropped it back down again, his hand clenched in a fist. Had he wanted to reach up and touch her hair? Aimee’s face grew hot. She never blushed! Why now, with him? Just the question of why made her flush all the more. It was time to take off the sweater.

Chapter 11

By noon, the Gibbon River came into view. They were about to emerge from the woods, when Daniel suddenly stopped and held up his hand, and he stepped in front of her.

“What is it?” Aimee asked apprehensively, and peered around his wide shoulders. Wordlessly, he took hold of her elbow and maneuvered her toward some trees to their left.

“Stay here,” he said firmly.

“Daniel, what is it?” she asked impatiently.

He pointed in the direction of his cabin, but she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“I didn’t leave a fire burning in the fire pit yesterday. And even so, the rain would have doused it. “

Now that he’d pointed it out, Aimee noticed a tiny wisp of smoke rising in the air where the cabin was located. Daniel’s sharp senses continued to amaze her.

“Don’t move from here until I come for you.” He gave her a sharp look, and disappeared into the dense foliage.

Who could be at the cabin? Had Zach returned already? Perhaps he had changed his mind about letting her stay for three months, and decided to come for her early. She wasn’t sure she wanted to leave yet. There were so many things she hadn’t seen or experienced yet.
You want to spend more time with Daniel, too
. Aimee brushed the thought aside.

What if it was Blackfoot, and they had taken over the cabin? Would Daniel be able to fight them off by himself? What help could she be? All she had was the hunting knife, and she wasn’t entirely sure she could use it against another human being.

The minutes dragged on, and seemed like an eternity to Aimee.
Dammit. I want to know what’s happening.

Suddenly, Daniel appeared out of nowhere and beckoned her to follow.

“What’s going on?” She jogged to keep up with him.

“Some Tukudeka hunters are at the cabin. They are in need of help. One of them is injured.” Daniel’s voice sounded grave. He stopped abruptly and gave her a hard stare. “After we cross the river, you will go to the cabin and wait there.”

Oh, this was just great. More orders. “Why do I need to go to the cabin? Maybe I can help. How badly is he hurt?”

Daniel didn’t reply. His jaw set firm, and anguish filled his eyes. When they reached the banks of the Gibbon, Aimee had a clear view of the cabin. Two men stood by the fire pit, a third was on the ground. She squinted to see better. The man squirmed but didn’t get up.

“He’s hurt bad.” Perhaps she could be of some help. Without waiting for Daniel, she ran to ford the Gibbon at the shallow spot. After wading through the knee-high water, she sprinted quickly up the meadow toward the yard. Daniel caught up to her, and headed her off, a dark scowl on his face.

“I told you to go to the cabin! Dammit, woman. Don’t you ever listen?”

“What’s wrong with that man on the ground?” Aimee asked, undeterred by Daniel’s glare. She took a closer look, and recognized the Indian as Elk Runner.

“My God, Daniel, is that an arrow sticking out of his abdomen? What happened to him?”

“They were surprised by a party of Blackfoot while on a hunting trip. Their village is too far, so they came here,” Daniel hissed.

She headed toward the injured man, and Daniel pulled her back.

“This is no sight for you,” he said firmly.

“Like hell it’s not!” She shot him a defiant look, and pulled her arm free, then pushed past him. She was back in the ER; a new trauma patient had just been brought in. This was her territory.

She rushed over to the injured man on the ground. His breathing was fast and shallow. A grimace contorted his face. He was in obvious pain. Aimee was completely undeterred by the two other Indians staring at her as she dropped to her knees beside Elk Runner. She assessed him quickly and expertly, lifting his lids to check for pupillary reflex, his pulse, his breathing.  She took note of the arrow protruding from the man’s lower left abdomen. His leather shirt was soaked in blood.

“He’s in shock,” she announced, and peered up at the Indians and at Daniel, who now knelt next to her. “We need to stabilize him and get that arrow out, or he’ll bleed to death internally.” Aimee wriggled her backpack off her shoulders and found her medicine kit. She stuffed her rolled-up blanket under Elk Runner’s knees to elevate his legs.

“Daniel, I need boiling hot water, now, and a few more blankets!” she ordered. When he didn’t move, she shot him her fiercest look, then said, “If you want this man to live, you need to do what I say, and do it now! I need boiling water, and if you have any alcohol around here, I could use that as well.”
I’m starting to sound like Ashwell
.

Daniel spoke quickly to the two Indians before he disappeared behind his cabin. One of the Indians set a kettle of water over the fire.

When Daniel returned, Aimee sliced open the man’s leather shirt with the hunting knife. She expertly palpated around the wound to try and figure out where the arrow’s trajectory was, and which organs might be affected.

“An ultrasound would be really nice right about now,” she mumbled.

Daniel wordlessly handed her a cup.

She looked up at him. “I can get that arrow out.”

“A wound like that is fatal,” he stated solemnly, his voice filled with anguish.

“No, it doesn’t have to be.” She shook her head. “If the arrow didn’t puncture his stomach or intestines, there’s less chance of sepsis to set in. From the looks of it, it might be closer to the kidney.”

“I don’t understand your words.”

The worry and pain in Daniel’s eyes tore at Aimee’s heart. “I can help your friend,” she said encouragingly. “You have to trust me.”

“Have you seen a wound like this before? It is an agonizing death.”

“I have treated many wounds like this,” Aimee said firmly. “And this will only kill him if infection sets in. If it stays clean, he can heal.”

“You speak words I don’t understand. How is it you know all this?” Daniel ran a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“Look, I’ll explain later, but right now I’d like to get this arrowhead out of his gut and get him sewn up, okay?”

Daniel gave a bewildered nod of his head.

“But you have to do what I say, when I say it, understand?” she continued. “No questions asked. And first, I need more of . . . what is this?” She smelled the contents of the cup Daniel had brought her. “Rum?” she answered her own question. “I guess it’ll have to do. I need more of this. We both need to soak our hands in it. Please tell your friends to either step back or support Elk Runner’s head, and keep him still. This is going to hurt.”

She didn’t dwell on the barbaric way she would have to perform surgery on this man. She had assisted in countless emergency knife stabbing and gunshot surgeries, so she had complete confidence in her ability. But those procedures were always done under anesthesia, not while the patient was awake. And unfortunately, she had nothing to give this man to knock him out. She did have lidocaine, however. Technically, she shouldn’t be in possession of this drug, but a veterinarian friend she’d gone backpacking with on several occasions had given it to her. They had both agreed that it was a useful drug to carry in the backcountry. Now it would hopefully numb this wound enough to let her remove the arrow and stitch him back up without too much pain.

 Supplies for minor surgeries were always with her. The trauma nurse in her wouldn’t have it any other way. She glanced down at her medical kit, knowing she had a limited supply of needles and syringes, betadine, sterile gauze, and suture material. 

Aimee unzipped her kit. She rummaged for her bottle of lidocaine, and ripped open the plastic cover to a small syringe. She stuck the needle in the bottle’s rubber stopper, and pulled back on the plunger to withdraw some of the drug.

Elk Runner’s companions murmured to each other when they saw her with the syringe, and one of them shouted and tried to grab her when she started inserting the needle under the skin around the entry wound. Daniel said something quickly to the Indians, and they backed off.

“This is to make it numb,” she explained. “It will make the pain less when I pull this arrow out of him.” Her eyes met and held Daniel’s for a long moment.

“Is that water boiling yet?” she finally asked. Daniel nodded in affirmation, and she thought for a moment. “I need you to pour that cup of rum over my hands,” she finally ordered. Daniel did so without question. “Please bring me another cupful, and I need you to put two spoons into the boiling water.”

If he thought her requests were strange, he didn’t say so. He wordlessly and quickly did her bidding.

“I’m going to hold this shaft steady, and I need you to break it off,” she said to Daniel when he returned. She held the protruding arrow to minimize the movement internally when Daniel broke it off with one quick effortless snap.

Once the spoons had been in the boiling water long enough to be considered sterile, she said, “remove those spoons from the water, but be careful to only touch the very top of the handles, Daniel.” 

He carefully did what she instructed. When he gave her a questioning look, she said, “The boiling water kills bacteria, which would kill Elk Runner if it got in his wound. That’s why I had you boil the spoons. They should now be sterile and safe, but if you touch them, you will get bacteria on them again.”

“I don’t know what bacteria is,” Daniel said with a confused look on his face.

“Well, baby, this is where I know more about survival than you do.” She smiled. “Just as I trust you to know more about surviving these mountains, you’ll just have to trust me to know how to doctor up a wound like this, okay?”

Daniel merely nodded.

She selected a scalpel from her medicine cache, and made a quick incision in the skin on either side of the hole where the arrow disappeared into Elk Runner. He barely flinched, which meant the lidocaine had taken effect, at least on the surface. She sighed in relief. She wasn’t sure she could go through with her operation if this man felt the entire procedure. The lidocaine would only minimize the pain as it was. She suddenly gained a deeper appreciation for the origin of the phrase
bite the bullet
. Elk Runner might have to do just that to get through this.

She took the spoons Daniel held, and used them to gently pry the tissue apart. “Hold these again, and . . . and don’t move them,” she ordered. Daniel obeyed. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she stuck her finger inside the hole. The two Indians standing close by kept murmuring.

When Elk Runner let out a loud moan and began to squirm, she retracted her finger quickly and drew up some more lidocaine, squirting it directly into the wound. A minute later, she inserted her finger again, and felt around. She could feel the arrow clearly penetrate the abdominal wall, but luckily it had missed the stomach and intestines, and had stopped just short of the kidney.

“Oh, phew, that was lucky,” she mumbled. She swiped her arm across her forehead. There was nothing she could have done if it had penetrated a vital organ. Under these primitive conditions, he would die of septicemia. Daniel was right when he’d said this was an agonizing death. She had no antibiotics to give him. All she could hope for was to keep the wound as clean and sterile as possible, and that his body’s own immunity would fight off any organisms.

She wrapped her finger around the arrowhead and pulled it out. Blood flowed immediately out of the wound, spilling over and seeping down Elk Runner’s torso like thick red paint. Quickly, she pressed her free palm over the wound to slow the bleeding. She tossed the arrow aside and grabbed a handful of gauze squares she had laid out in preparation. She stuck a few inside the wound to buy a few seconds time while she tore open a pack of suture material.

Pausing for a moment, she opened a new syringe and drew up some of the hot water, into which she mixed some of her betadine solution. Her eyes darted to Elk Runner’s face. He was drenched in sweat, his eyes focused at the sky. She couldn’t imagine a modern-day patient remaining so calm under these circumstances.