The Lady Who Lived Again by Thomasine Rappold

Unlike Maddie’s trembling hands, his were steady and strong.
    Maddie wrung her bloodied hands on her skirts and watched. Jace furrowed his brow, then leaned in for a closer look. His grim expression worried her. Would the blood come gushing? Had Maddie been too quick to deem Joey healed?
    “It’s slowing,” Jace said, reaching for the compress.
    The Clearys huddled closer, responding in unison. “Slowing?”
    “So it appears,” Jace answered, dabbing at Joey’s foot.
    “How?” Mrs. Cleary spun to Maddie. “What did you do?” She swiveled back to Jace. “What did she do?”
    “She did nothing,” Jace snapped. “The blood is clotting.” Releasing Joey’s foot, he straightened to face the Clearys. “The puncture was deep enough to sever important vessels, but the blood appears to be clotting now.” He turned to Joey. “How do you feel, son?”
    The boy averted his teary eyes, lips quivering.
    Maddie couldn’t blame the child. The intensity in Jace’s expression would frighten a wildcat.
    “Answer the doctor now, Joey,” she said. Sidling to the table, she patted Joey’s knee. “How do you feel?”
    “I want to go home,” sniffed the tiny boy.
    “Of course you do, sweetheart,” Maddie cooed with a smile. She turned to Jace. “May I help him up?”
    “No, you may not.” He turned, preparing a fresh basin of water. “Punctures are prone to infection. The wound must be cleaned.”
    Maddie soothed the boy as Jace carefully cleaned and bandaged the small foot.
    “Get him to Troy,” Jace told the Clearys. “With his condition it’s possible the bleeding may resume.”
    Maddie shook her head. “I don’t think—”
    “Keep his foot raised, and keep him as still as possible during the trip. You’re taking a spring wagon?” he asked as he hefted the boy from the table and deposited him in his father’s arms.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Good. We’ll give him a bit of laudanum to ease his nerves. Cushion him in the wagon so he’s not bouncing around.”
    Mrs. Cleary nodded furiously. “Thank you, Doctor Merrick.” She brushed past Maddie, then stopped, turning slowly to face her. The woman’s reproachful attitude toward Maddie hadn’t changed much since she’d last seen her, but the harsh line of her mouth softened a bit now, and her cool eyes seemed warmer. “Thank you,” she uttered softly in Maddie’s direction before she hurried after her husband.
    Jace escorted the trio to the waiting wagon outside. Maddie watched through the dingy window as he helped load Joey inside. Wringing her balled fists, Maddie tried to relax. Her simple healing efforts were not always successful. Her failure to cure Grandfather had proved it. But this attempt had been a resounding victory, and she knew, with sudden clarity, that she could no longer stand idly by as her neighbors bled and suffered—even if it meant that they would soon despise and fear her more than they already did. She would be careful to avoid exposure, of course. But she would not squander her gift.
    Exhaling her pent-up tension, she began to calm. A few minutes later the wagon ambled down the street.
    Jace strode into the house and closed the door firmly behind him.
    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
    She blinked. “Pardon me?”
    “I’m the doctor here, Madeline, not you.”
    “Oh, for goodness sakes.”
    “I strongly suggest you remember that.”
    “I was merely attempting to soothe the child. And I thought I might apply an herbal poultice that Rhetta sometimes uses for household cuts. But it was unnecessary in the end…”
    “An herbal poultice? For bleeding?” He glared. “These are my patients. Do not ever undermine me again. There will be no simple country remedies or backwoods mumbo-jumbo in this office.”
    “The boy was frightened out of his wits. I had to do something.”
    “The boy could have bled out on my table! Had that puncture been a fraction deeper, he very well might