Page 14 of Healer (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #4)

Now, with this little girl’s life in my hands, I’d pull the bark off the trees if I thought it would help.

I could do this.

This would be the first time I’d held a scalpel in over twenty years.

My fingers twitched as I walked through the surgical steps in my mind.

My hands felt as sure and strong as they did during my years of medical school when the future loomed bright with promise, and the only illness I suffered was a hangover now and then.

Irsay needed me. I wouldn’t let her down.

A small fur laid near the campfire held the tools I’d set Vienda to gathering.

She’d added some healing herbs and salves in addition to my list. I probably wouldn’t use those.

Claire Fraser might have sworn by the use of goose grease in healing ointments, but I tended to be a little more fastidious about my choice of medicaments.

“Will this do?” Hakkar stepped to my side, holding a thin piece of bone for my perusal. The needle Vienda provided proved too thick. Sewing leather garments and tools were much different from repairing veins and flesh.

Thankfully, Hakkar took the three-inch-long piece of bleached bone and whittled it into something more serviceable.

“Perfect.”

I gave him a grim smile as I took the needle in my hand. Honestly, I’d love to get my hands on a stainless-steel reverse-cutting needle with a triangular point or surgical staples, but like Claire Fraser, I’d have to make do.

I dropped the needle in the pot of boiling water suspended over the fire.

At the same time, Hakkar began construction on the makeshift surgical theater—a curtain of furs suspended on poles that would allow the sunlight from overhead but prevent the breeze from blowing contaminants into the surgical field.

Ideally, I should operate inside to cut down on possible pollutants, but the light in the cave was dim at best. Despite once again possessing the twenty-twenty vision of my youth, I would need all the light I could get to find and repair a tear in a minuscule artery.

“Will this do?”

Vienda stood at least a foot taller than me, but at this moment, she seemed small with her worried eyes, trembling lips, and hands. In her palm lay a pile of thin gray strands, painstakingly made from the intestines of a freshly caught fish.

“This will work,” I assured her, praying I didn’t lie as she laid the slimy tendrils in my hand. These I dropped into the bowl of Talamus home brew.

“The shelter is done,” Hakkar announced from a few feet away. Vienda jerked at his words. I did too, only I hid it better.

I walked over to inspect the space, finding it plenty roomy with the ground covered by thick furs. A small table, draped by a fur that would serve as my operating table, stood in the center of the space.

“We need to get everything set up before we move, Irsay.” I glanced to where Talamus sat beside his daughter, applying pressure to the wound as I instructed.

Vienda provided a rough clay platter to hold the surgical tools.

Dipping the plate in the boiling water, the female Kerzak extracted the knife and bone needle with her bare hands.

I transferred the fish guts into a smaller bowl, covering them with the homebrew.

Hopefully, the alcohol content in the drink would prove antiseptic.

We moved Irsay next. The blood flow from the wound had slowed, but one good jostle would undo any clotting. I don’t think Hakkar and Talamus drew breath as they carried the child onto a small fur and then into the theater, moving with a grace and precision that seemed strange on beings their size.

With Irsay and my meager surgical tools inside the fur shelter, the only thing left was to sterilize was myself. Without chlorhexidine or povidone-iodine-containing soaps and latex gloves, the best I managed was dousing my hands in the Talamus home brew and boiling water.

The alcohol content must be high. The liquid stung my skin.

I drew a cup of boiling water, letting it set for a few seconds before pouring the scalding liquid over my hands, biting back a grunt of pain.

Hakkar, Vienda, and Talamus still sported splashes of blood and gore on their skin and clothes—a testament to the battle fought to protect us.

In a hospital setting, I always required every member of my surgical team to shower both before and after surgery, but this was the jungle. I’d have to make do.

Hakkar cleaned his hands, imitating my manner, and waited at my side, ready to do my biding.

I wanted to ask him to hold me. I wanted to feel the strength of his arms and the comfort and promise his hold would convey.

Instead, I allowed myself a long gaze into his golden eyes, borrowing on the confidence he held for me.

Hakkar moved closer but kept his hands at his sides. Instead, he lowered his head until our foreheads rested together. So close, but too far away.

“I have faith in you, Aggie.”

There was faith but also a question in his eyes as he christened this new moniker between us.

My father was the only person who ever called me Aggie and lived.

I’d always insisted on Agnes. It was more formal and professional sounding.

More appropriate for a surgeon. But I liked the nickname coming from Hakkar’s lips.

It spoke of a closeness between us… a closeness I wanted to explore.

I’d dreamed of kissing him and lying in his arms all last night.

I wanted that reality, but I pushed the thought away for now.

Time for that later, after I’d helped Irsay.

I gave him a soft smile and nod before striding toward the furs.

Vienda stood at her daughter’s head, with Talamus kneeling at the girl’s feet.

I considered asking them to step outside but thought better of it.

I had nothing to anesthetize Irsay. If the little girl regained consciousness during surgery—please God, don’t let her regain consciousness—her parents would need to hold her.

The air felt sultry within the confines of the fur teepee, every breath stifling, but I put the discomfort out of my head.

I put everything out of my head except the wound before me.

The laser blast left a four-inch-wide crater in the girl’s shoulder.

However, in order to get to the artery, I needed to cut away what, on a human, would be the sternocostal head of the pectoralis major muscle.

I retrieved the knife from the clay tray.

It was one of Hakkar’s small blades. Much bigger than a scalpel, it lay awkwardly in my fingers, but proved lightweight.

After a few practice moves, I felt confident enough to make the first incision.

While the muscle lay further south than it would in a human body, it didn’t take me long to locate the artery.

The tear was readily visible, thanks to the onset of clotting, plus Kerzak veins were bright yellow, which made the hole pumping thick black blood easier to find.

Nearby, embedded in the muscle, lay a bone chip no bigger than my nail. I removed it with the tip of my knife.

Like the spin that turned Diana Prince into Wonder Woman, I transformed.

Training and instinct took over, and a sensation of pins and needles swept over my skin.

Every sense I possessed focused on my task.

Every nerve and muscle honed to make the stitches through the thin walls of the artery perfection itself.

The fish gut felt like spider silk and slid easily through the tiny holes created by my bone needle.

Stitch after stitch. Clamping the vein might prove to make the task easier.

But I didn’t want to constrict blood flow without telemetry to monitor Irsay’s condition.

Thirty-seven stitches.

Thirty-seven stitches and black blood pumped through the small yellow artery without a single leak.

Vienda gave a relieved sigh while Talamus grunted his approval. I didn’t let myself relax—the task was only half done.

“We must ensure the vein holds for at least five minutes.” I cautioned.

It was the longest five minutes of my life. I counted it off in my head, one number for every one of Irsay’s heartbeats.

Once satisfied the repair would hold, I began working my way out, suturing muscle and the strange honeycomb-looking fascia, debriding burnt tissue so the joining of flesh would heal.

Stitch after painstaking stitch until finally, nothing remained but a small suture scar around five inches long, which I covered with a clean cloth before pulling the blanket up under Irsay’s chin.

It was over.

Stress left my body with a tremor, and a roll of nausea assaulted my gut.

In a hospital, I would spend the moments after surgery writing post-op orders and speaking to family members.

In the middle of this jungle, there was nothing to do but wait…

and pray I’d been successful. The color deepened in the fleshy portions of Irsay’s face, and the pulse beating in the center of her throat seemed stronger, which was a very positive indicator.

“Let her stay here for at least an hour,” I issued my post-operative instructions, mouth dry. “It will give the sutures time to settle.”

Vienda and Talamus nodded in agreement, their dark eyes never wavering from Irsay’s face.

Hakkar rose, and we shared a glance, both wanting to give the family some privacy. I went to take a step, but my knees gave way. Hakkar’s muscular arms went around me, supportive and comforting.

I leaned against him until we exited the theatre and made our way to a log bench by the fire, stepping over the lingering corpses of the beings responsible for Irsay’s injury. I didn’t let my gaze linger. I’d seen enough of broken flesh and blood for one day.

Hakkar settled me, moving away only long enough to retrieve a cup of Talamus home brew from a nearby jug.

“Drink,” he ordered, golden eyes heated as he held the bone cup out to me.

I took the cup with shaking fingers, taking a sip and letting the liquid settle my nerves. Gods, I hadn’t fallen apart after surgery like this since... well, my very first surgery.

“That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Hakkar murmured, settling on the bench beside me. His focus on my face felt too intense, as if he was trying to see deep into my soul. I turned my gaze away, not wanting him to see the worry there—for Irsay—for myself.

Hakkar’s hand trailed along my spine, forcing away the stress. I relaxed into his touch, letting it soothe my frazzled nerves—at least until Vienda and Talamus exited the shelter, and worry forced my heart into my throat.

“Irsay?”

I asked, making to rise, but Vienda’s wave kept me seated.

“My child is well, thanks to you.”

With those words, both Kerzak stopped directly in front of me, going down on one knee and bowing their heads. The left arm went skyward, while the right fist rested directly over the heart.

“It’s a salute of great respect,” Hakkar whispered, his arm going around my waist to steady my trembling.

“I....” My voice broke, to overcome with emotion to form coherent words.

“We bless you for Irsay’s life,” Talamus said hoarsely, a shimmer in his dark brown eyes.

“Thank you,” I whispered, furiously blinking back tears. It didn’t matter that these two were the embodiment of walking-talking grizzly bears. They loved their child as much as any human parent. It was all that mattered.

“Agnes needs to rest,” Hakkar said as the Kerzak rose to their feet.

“Vienda, too,” Talamus agreed, gently touching his mate’s shoulder.

“I will rest beside Irsay and watch over her,” Vienda glanced at Talamus, a stubborn glint in her eye.

Her mate didn’t argue. He only gave a grunt of acquiescence before turning his attention to Hakkar. “We must remove the dead before it draws predators.” His dark brown eyes scanned the horizon as he frowned. “Or others.”

“I will gather tools and meet you in a moment,” Hakkar agreed, helping me from the bench. “I must take Agnes to rest.”

Vienda and Talamus turned away before I tried taking the first step. When my knees shook, Hakkar’s golden eyes stared at me tenderly for a moment before he swung me into his arms.

“It is okay, Aggie. I have you.”

Maybe it was the use of the nickname. Perhaps it was the tender way he touched me. Maybe being in his arms made me feel so safe, like nothing known or unknown could hurt me. Perhaps it was simply the emotional and mental exhaustion that often accompanies intense surgeries.

Despite the underlying reason remaining unknown, I let myself melt into Hakkar’s hold and sobbed.

He said nothing as he carried me into the cave and to the bed, tucking me beneath the furs.

“H—Hakkar?”

His name trembled from my lips without a thought to what I wanted to ask.

Perching on the edge of the bed, Hakkar cupped my cheek in his hand, gently pressing my head to the cushions.

“Sleep sweet human.” He bent over, pressing his mouth to my forehead. “I will be nearby.”

I wanted to protest. I should remain awake to oversee my patient, but his touch lulled me into a sophomoric state, and I fell asleep under Hakkar’s watchful gaze.