Love on the Mend by Karen Witemeyer

Author:Karen Witemeyer [Witemeyer, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC042030, FIC042040, FIC027050
ISBN: 9781441264961
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2014-12-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Jacob turned his attention back to his sutures. “It will all come out right,” she’d said. He shook his head as he tied off another stitch. He’d seen firsthand how often things didn’t come out right. Yet her simple words buoyed him anyway. Perhaps because he’d seen in her eyes that she actually believed them. She wasn’t spouting platitudes or trying to make him feel better with false assurances. No, this woman had just experienced one of God’s greatest miracles—not only in the birth of a baby but in bringing him back from the brink of death. Relief and joy radiated from her until he swore he could taste them in the air.

Finished with the internal sutures, he traded the silver wire for the softer catgut that had recently come into favor among top physicians. He sprayed the sealed incision line with carbolic acid, then closed up the outer wound.

Jacob moved to the dresser to clean the blood from his hands. He stretched the crick from his neck, twisting it back and forth, up and down. The bed’s height had been too low for him to operate comfortably, but there had been no time to move Mrs. Walters.

He was a little surprised she was still breathing. He’d seen the dull look of death in her eyes—a look with which he was far too familiar. She’d spent every ounce of her energy during the hours of unproductive labor that had preceded the surgery. She’d torn some places inside from her efforts and hemorrhaged slightly. Thankfully, the blood loss had not been too severe. If it had, she would have been gone before he’d even arrived.

Jacob dried his hands then ran them through his hair as he exhaled a heavy breath. He’d done all he could. Sewn up her tears as well as his incisions. Now all he could do was wait on God to stave off infection and bring about the healing necessary for recovery. He prayed the Lord would prove merciful.

Amy began to stir, her hand instinctively reaching for the newly stitched wound. Jacob strode to her side and stopped her before she could touch it.

“Mollie,” he called, loud enough for the sound to carry through the door but not so loud as to cause undo alarm. He hoped.

In an instant, Mollie pushed open the door and stood in the opening.

“Help me apply a dressing. Then we’ll need to get her into a clean nightdress.”

A second woman came up behind Mollie in the doorway. “I can help with that.”

The sister.

Jacob shrugged and waved them both in. He didn’t know Alice well, but she seemed a sturdy sort, not the type to fall into a fit of hysterics at the first sign of adversity. He supposed he could allow her to assist.

“I told Trent to keep the babe close to the stove to ward off any chance of a chill and promised to fetch him when Amy began to wake.” She shot him a meaningful look. “He won’t be interfering.”

Thank the Lord for sensible women.

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