Chapter 84
New York City, New York, USA, 1887
Opening his eyes, Jamie wasn’t sure where he was. He strained to sit up and was startled by a figure rising from a seat next to the bed, offering to help him. In the dim light, he didn’t recognize her at first, but then it all came flooding back to him. It was Kit, and by the looks of it, she was still crying.
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “I’m fine.” She released him, and he finished pulling himself up. His jacket was off and there was a large blood stain on the front of his shirt. He was certain it was mirrored on the back. There was also a nice, black hole. “I guess I won’t be wearing this shirt anymore,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new one.”
“It’s all right,” he insisted, even though he wasn’t sure that it was. If her aim had been a bit lower, she could’ve killed him. He didn’t think even he was talented enough to heal a gunshot wound to the heart, and he hoped he’d never have to find out.
“Sol is hurt. Jeffrey wanted me to let him know as soon as you awoke. He’s next door.”
Jamie jumped up, no longer tired. “Take me to him.”
Kit nodded and headed toward the door. Jamie followed, and a few seconds later, she pushed through the door in the adjoining room. Sol lay on a bed much like the one Jamie had just vacated. His leg was propped upon a stack of pillows, bloody rags wrapped around it. His face was almost as pale as the sheets they’d used to make a tourniquet.
“Oh, Jamie, thank God,” Jeffrey said when he saw him on his feet. “His leg’s broke. Clean through. Can you fix it?”
“I can,” Jamie nodded. “It’d be easier if I had my medical bag, but since that’s back at the headquarters, I guess I’m on my own.” He had considered bringing it with him, but Culpepper always said it got in the way, so he’d been in the habit of leaving it behind. Perhaps from now on he would bring it.
“Is it bad, Doc?” Sol asked, his voice just a whisper.
“In a word, yes,” Jamie replied. “But I can fix it.”
“Hurts… real bad.”
“I can imagine.” Turning to Jeffrey, he said, “Why don’t the rest of you clear the room and give me some space, hmm?”
Though Jeffrey didn’t seem to like that idea, he nodded and gathered up Kit, Joseph, Abel, and one of the twins, though Jamie didn’t know which one, and left the small room. Jamie wondered where the other twin was, but he didn’t ask aloud. He really didn’t care at the moment, assuming she hadn’t actually gotten injured.
He grabbed his knife and cut through the team’s feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. It had helped, but the deeper he got into the wrapping, the more obvious it was just how much blood Sol had lost. Eventually, he came to the source of the problem. Sol’s femur was protruding at least three inches out the front of his thigh, just above his knee. It was a jagged break, and he couldn’t imagine the amount of pain Sol must be in.
“I’ll need to set it first,” he said, catching the Hunter’s eyes. “It will hurt. A lot.”
Sol gave a small nod, barely conscious at this point.
While it would help if he had some pain medication, there was none of that around either, though the half empty bottle of whiskey behind him was an indicator someone had tried some unconventional treatment. With a deep breath, Jamie put his hands in position, and with no more hesitation, he grabbed hold of Sol’s broken bone and pushed it back into place. The man let out a guttural shriek like none Jamie had ever heard from a full-grown man before, but he couldn’t blame him. “The hard part’s over,” Jamie assured him. He used his hands to begin to heal the torn skin, knowing that would stop the bleeding and allow Sol to begin to regain his strength. His healing power would seep down into the man’s muscle and put the bone back together as well. He’d already seen the ends beginning to regenerate before he even released the protruding portion of the femur.
After about five minutes, Jamie felt himself becoming quite tired again. He hated the idea of passing out twice in the same night, but he knew there was nothing that could be done. As much energy as it had taken for him to heal himself, it might take even more for him to fix Sol.
Seeing a chair propped against the wall behind him, he grabbed it with the toe of his boot and dragged it over. Settling into it, he leaned over Sol’s leg. He could tell by the even breathing that the man had finally either passed out or fallen asleep. He hoped for the latter but was fairly certain it was the former. The amount of pain he must’ve been in when Jamie pressed that bone back into position had to be horrific. Jamie hoped he never had to go through anything like that himself.
By the time he was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open anymore, Jamie assessed his work. The skin was healed nicely, only a thin river of scar tissue gave away the fact that there had ever been a wound. The color was back in Sol’s face, and his leg seemed to be the right hue now as well. Jamie had no doubt the fearless fighter would live to hunt again. Once more, he found himself losing consciousness.
“Jamie? Jamie?”
He blinked a few times and realized someone was shaking him. Opening his eyes fully, he found himself back in the same bed he’d vacated before going to help Sol, looking into the same pair of dark blue eyes. The only difference was that sunlight streamed through the window, and he still felt like he’d been struck by a trolley.
Rubbing his eyes, he pushed up so that his back was against the headboard. “How long have I been asleep?” he asked, knowing however long it had been, it wasn’t enough.
“Only a few hours,” Kit replied. She was sitting on the edge of his bed. “I’m sorry to wake you. It’s just… I wanted to say goodbye to you before I leave.”
