Free The Lady Who Lived Again by Thomasine Rappold Page B

streaming down her cheeks.
    “Doctor Merrick!”
    Maddie’s heart pounded. “He’s not here,” she said. “He’s gone to see Mrs. Tremont. What’s happened?”
    “Our boy here jumped from a hay bale onto a nail in the floorboard. It’s bad.”
    “He’s barely four years old. We can’t lose him, too.” Mrs. Cleary wiped at her tears. “Dear Lord, James, what do we do?”
    The child yelled louder, his fear feeding on that of his frantic parents. The blood malady that afflicted all of the Cleary children had already proved fatal for the other Cleary sons, and Maddie had never seen the staunch couple so out of sorts. She resolved to do what she could to help, consequences be damned.
    “Give him here,” Maddie said.
    They stared, horrified, as if she were Satan personified demanding their child.
    “Give. Him. Here.” Maddie wrenched the screaming child from his father’s arms. “Go send someone for Doctor Merrick,” she instructed Mr. Cleary. “Mrs. Cleary, you wait here.” She started for the examination room. “What’s his name?”
    Mrs. Cleary blinked. “Joseph,” she said. “Joey.”
    Maddie rushed the boy to the examination room. She kicked shut the door, leaving a gaping Mrs. Cleary outside. Maddie sat on a chair, wrestling the squirming child on her lap. “Keep still now,” she said more harshly than she’d intended. She’d always lacked patience with children, but she had to keep the boy calm. “Shh. It’s all right, Joey, shh.”
    The boy settled against her as she peeked beneath the saturated cloth to assess the situation. Blood spurted from the small hole in his foot with surprising force. It showed no sign of stopping. Joey was in trouble, and he needed help immediately.
    Maddie tossed the sopping cloth aside, and it hit the floor with a splat. Her hands shook. There was so much blood, and the child was so small. Excluding herself, Maddie had healed only one other human being. But the stove burn to Rhetta’s palm had been no life-threatening injury. This surely was. She had to try.
    Situating the boy firmly on her lap, Maddie used her free hand to clasp Joey’s foot. Blood filled her palm, oozing through her trembling fingers. Over Joey’s whimpers, Maddie hummed to the boy, squeezing his foot softly at first until she could get an adequate grip over the injury. Maddie closed her eyes and squeezed harder. Joey whimpered and squirmed in her lap. Bouncing her knees gently to soothe him, Maddie concentrated on the beat of the rhythm, nothing else. A surge of heat consumed her; hot tears stung her eyes. The heat from Maddie’s hand intensified.
    Joey stiffened at the strange sensation, whimpering some more. The heat poured freely now with little effort.
    “Shh. Don’t be afraid,” Maddie cooed. “It’s all right.” And somehow she knew that it was.
    The sound of frantic voices carried from the outer room. Mrs. Cleary sounded wild.
    “She took Joey in there!” Heavy footsteps echoed through the door, growing louder as they neared. The door flew open, and Jace charged inside. Mr. Cleary followed on his heels.
    “He’s a bleeder, Doc.”
    “Hemophilia?”
    “Yes, sir. We’ve lost two boys already. The nail went straight through his shoe. John Baldwin is hitching the wagon so we can take him to Troy.”
    “That won’t be necessary,” Maddie said. “He’s—”
    “Get him up on the table,” Jace ordered as he washed his hands in a basin of water.
    “He’s all right. He’s—”
    “Now,” he said, spinning around. He dried his hands, then prepared a fresh compress.
    Maddie set Joey gently on the table.
    “Lie back, son,” Jace said, nudging Maddie away. Joey’s eyes widened in fear, and he started to cry. Ignoring the child’s protests, Jace lowered him to his back. “Let’s have a look,” he said as he examined the injury with competent efficiency.
    Jace dabbed at the blood, his moves deliberate and swift, as though his body was one step ahead of his brain.