Free Texas Twilight by Caroline Fyffe

me.”
    Luke glanced around at Matt and Mark. Both
men shrugged their large shoulders. Luke continued, “Aren’t you too
old?”
    “That’s exactly why I’ve decided to go.
Mother has had her heart set on it forever and since this is my
last chance, I wanted to do it for her, to make her happy. The
three months will fly by. Right? Just so you know I’m leaving day
after tomorrow.”
    Luke stared at her for a few long moments.
“You’re sure Ma knows about this?”
    “That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”
    “I think you should wait until they get back
from their trip to Cheyenne,” Matt suggested.
    “Can’t.” Charity started up the stairs. “The
semester starts in a week. If I leave day after tomorrow I’ll have
a few days to get there and a couple more to get settled in. The
next time you see me, gentlemen, I’ll be a changed woman.”
     
    ***
     
    Dr. Bixby picked up the scalpel and studied
the little girl’s exposed abdomen where he’d scissored her
undershirt down the middle and laid it open. As a result of the
ether, she was in a deep sleep and her mother paced in the other
room, her footsteps making the old floorboards creak softly.
    “Guess we’re ready,” Bixby said, looking up
at John.
    Disappointment gripped him. Of course Dr.
Bixby would do the surgery. He was still the doctor here. Had been
for many years. But the tremor John had seen earlier in the old
doctors hands had John more than worried. Before he could voice his
concern, Dr. Bixby held the tool out to him. Surprised and humbled
to his core, John held the old man’s gaze for a moment before Bixby
nodded his approval.
    The sharp metal instrument felt good in his
hand as he took a moment to gauge its weight. He’d done this exact
operation thrice before. He shouldn’t be nervous. However, the
other patients had all been adult males, and glancing now at
Candy’s peaceful face and miniature sized abdomen made John’s
stomach tighten up. There was no going back.
    Placing the tip of the scalpel on her soft
skin directly above her appendix, he made a straight incision with
little effort. Dr. Bixby reached forward with a wad of cotton and
dabbed away the blood that sprang instantly to the surface. Several
kerosene lamps hug from the ceiling, giving John plenty of light,
but after ten minutes their warmth made perspiration break out on
his forehead.
    “Good,” Bixby said quietly, their heads
almost touching as they leaned forward over the incision. “Go
slowly, boy. You don’t want to puncture the infected organ.”
    When John cut through the muscle and then the
sac-like covering of the abdominal cavity, the purplish-black
appendix, no bigger than his little finger, popped up like a little
marching soldier, making it easy for him to remove. He made the cut
and removed it with tweezers, placing it in the pan Dr. Bixby held
out to him. Carefully probing the area, John looked for signs of
infection. The boy reached up and wiped a drop of sweat that was
getting ready to fall.
    “Almost done.” John laid the scalpel and
tweezers down and picked up a pre-threaded needle. Slowly he closed
the clean incision, taking time with each little knot. Finally
finished, he straightened and stretched, relieving the muscles in
his back.
    “You did fine,” Bixby said as he went about
cleaning up the blood. “You have a good, steady hand...”
    “You’re hands were steady too,” John replied
in contemplation. “At breakfast I noticed they were quite the
opposite. No offense intended,” he added quickly.
    “None taken.”
    Bixby finished cleaning up and covered the
child with a white cotton sheet from the closet. He tucked it
lightly under the child’s chin and brushed back her hair from her
forehead, never taking his eyes from her face. Turning, he came out
of his thoughts to address what John had said.
    “I don’t know why that is. About my hands I
mean. I’ve been shaking for about ten years now, but never when I’m
in surgery. Just