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Sunset Creek, but Sean mentioned that Matilda Grant’s elderly father is a retired doctor.  He practiced in Kansas City, but when his wife died, he moved in with Matilda.  Sean said he has seen a few patients here.  He comes to the house, and he prefers payment in baked goods. His name is Satterfield, I think.”

“Baked goods?”

“You know: pies, cakes, or cookies.”

“So where is the Satterfield—or should I say, Mrs. Grant’s—place?”

“It’s on the same road as Sean’s place, but about a half-mile farther.”

“All right.  You sleep while I make soup and bake a cake, then I’ll ride out to bring Dr. Satterfield back to check on you.

“Is that all right with you, Jesse?”  She leaned over to kiss his forehead; he was asleep.

Charlie rode out to the Grant ranch to meet Dr. Enoch Satterfield, who agreed to take a look at Jesse’s wound.  Charlie thought him to be a cute little man.  He was fast-moving man for a man in his late seventies or early eighties.  He was balding, but what little hair he had reached his shoulders, and he had a beard and mustache to match.

Charlie had to shake Jesse’s arm.  “Jesse, I’ve brought the doctor.  Jesse, this is Doctor Enoch Satterfield.”

Jesse tried to sit up, but gasped and laid back down.  “I’m fine, Doc. I’m just sore from the long ride from Woodcliff.”

“I’m a retired doctor.  Your wife tells me someone shot you in the back a while back.”

Jesse nodded.

“Did the doctor who treated you explain your internal injuries to you?” the doctor asked.

“Yes. He said I was fortunate that the bullet hadn’t hit my spine, but it did rip a lot of surrounding tissue and nicked my left lung.  I’ve never had trouble breathing, but the pain in my back is bad still.”

“How long ago were you shot?” the doctor asked.

Jesse shrugged.  “I recall little of what happened, but I figure it was about six weeks ago.”

The doctor rubbed his chin.  “I take it the doctor removed the bullet?”

Jesse nodded.

Charlie thought his color was better, but she had no idea how serious his injury was, and she thanked God it wasn’t more serious.

“Let’s roll you over and let me look at that wound,” the doctor said, as he helped Jesse to roll over and pull up his shirt.

“Hmm.” The doctor lifted the bandage.  “When was the last time you changed the bandage?”  The doctor made a face as he disposed of the bandage, leading Charlie to believe it must have smelled bad.

“The doctor gave me some bandages, but I never got a chance to change the one he put on.  I had to leave on an important mission, a life and death emergency, as it turned out,” Jesse said, gazing at Charlie.

Charlie stepped to the other side of the bed to see Jesse’s wound.

The doctor pointed to the meaty-looking red skin around the wound.  “See that?  He has an infection, but it isn’t so bad that I can’t fix it.” Satterfield looked up at Charlie.  “You wouldn’t, by any chance, have any moldy bread, would you?”

“As luck would have it, I do.  I’ve been gone for several days, and my bread has turned green.  Why?”

“It will cure his infection since it’s just started.  There’s just a hint of pus.  I think we’ve caught it in time.  Give me a slice of that bread, and don’t throw the loaf away.  I’ll show you how to treat his wound, and I want you to continue until the redness has gone.  The scab should fall off by itself, and when it does, you can stop the treatment.”

Charlie had no idea his wound would be so large.  She had pictured a small bullet wound.

“Why is the wound so big?  I thought it was just a bullet hole,” she asked.

“The doctor had to dig in there to remove the bullet to see what damage the bullet incurred.  He would have had to put nearly his entire hand inside the wound.  Your husband is a lucky man.  If that bullet had hit his spine, he could have ended up paralyzed.”

Charlie gasped.  “We’re praying people, Doc.  That was not luck.”

The doctor washed the wound with carbolic acid, placed the moldy bread on the wound, and wrapped up his back, leaving the bread inside.  “Just leave the bread there and wrap the cotton cloth around his torso and tie it here,” the doctor said.  “Think you can manage that?”

Charlie nodded.  “I sure can.  Every morning.”

The doctor left with a frosted chocolate cake, which he placed in his small buggy.  Since Jesse had fallen asleep again, Charlie rode to Sean and Sophia’s to tell them all that had happened and to bring Shep home.

During Jesse’s recovery, there wasn’t any intimacy, although Charlie yearned for his arms to squeeze her again.  She'd sleep beside him, and he’d put his arm around her.  Charlie wondered how long it would be before Jesse was completely healed.  She yearned to shoot Roy.  Jail was too good for him.

Charlie ordered a new safe from a catalog at the general store.  It would take weeks to arrive, but the old safe was ruined as Leo had pried it open.  Leo had spent about twenty dollars, but she and Jesse were thrilled to get back what was left, and there was still enough to get them through the winter.

As the summer waned and the leaves on the trees started drifting to the ground, Charlie and Sophia were busy canning for the winter.  Since Jesse was still healing, they did the work at Charlie and Jesse’s house.  Jesse sat at the table and helped by chopping the fruit and vegetables.

One morning, as Charlie changed Jesse's bandage, she noticed that the scab had fallen off, and the wound looked clean.  He’d have a scar, but his wound had

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