Love On The Frontier (A Bounty Hunter's Tale) Book I

Chapter Twenty - Three | Stitches

'Thugs.'

New Mexico 1873

"God, you're heavy," Lena mumbled as they approached the clinic. Clayton was discombobulated from the pain and blood loss. 

Lena rapped on the door at the back of the clinic. She had seen a couple lights on and assumed that the doctor lived inside—at least that's what she had hoped. After several attempts, the door finally swung opened. A plump woman with a round face and mousy brown hair stood there. She had a scowl on her face. "It's past midnight! What do you want?!"

"Uh. . .he's hurt ma'am and he needs to see the doctor--"

"He'll have to wait until tomorrow morn'." The woman looked Clayton over and realized that he was injured from an altercation. "And we don't service thugs. Be gone witchu."

"Please ma'am--"

"I said. We don't help gangsters. Now get him out of here 'for I call for the sheriff." The woman began to shut the door, but Lena was adamant.

She stuck her boot in the door. "I beg you!"

"Little girl! I will--"

"Sylvia, what's the meaning of this!?" A man's voice was heard beyond the doorway. A man of average height and a receding hairline stepped in the doorway alongside the rude woman.

His face was twisted into irritation, but when his eyes landed on Clayton they softened. "Clay?" He questioned. There are sure a lot of people who know him by name despite that fact that he often uses an alias..

Lena exhaled a sigh of relief. "Yes, this is Clayton the bounty hunter. Please help us, doctor. He--"

The doctor opened to door wider, pushing the woman out of the way. "Yes, of course. Please come in."

The doctor took Clayton off of Lena's hands. The doctor and the woman carried him to the operating room and laid him onto the exam table. The doctor began calling out orders to the woman and she rushed to obey them.

"Dr. Thorne," Sylvia said. "I thought we didn't give medical attention to hoodlums?"

"This isn't some thug, Sylvia. This is my friend," he said as he cut off Clayton's blood stained clothes.

Lena stood there watching Dr. Thorne and Sylvia work. "If you're squeamish you may want to wait outside," he advised Lena.

Lena couldn't leave Clayton. She needed to make sure that he would be alright. He seemed to have lost a lot of blood and she was afraid that the blade punctured something serious. 

"Suit yourself." Dr. Thorne cleaned up the wound. It was three inches wide, but not as deep as it appeared to be. Thankfully there was not much damage done. After disinfecting the wound and suturing it up, Clayton was good as new--almost.

"He'll need some rest and to avoid any strenuous activity for two to three weeks." The doctor did not sound confident that Clayton would follow that order. "If possible have him see another doctor in the next location he'll be. They'll remove the sutures and check the wound. Until then, keep it clean in order to avoid risking serious infection."

"Yes, doctor."

Dr. Thorne looked Lena up and down. "Are you his. . .?"

"Assistant." 

He cocked on brow at her. "I see." He didn't sound convinced.

The woman brought in a bowl of hot stew for both her and Clayton. He was already sitting up on the exam table scarfing down the bowl along with three bread rolls. Lena did not have much of an appetite, but she ate anyway. These past events had exhausted her both mentally and physically.