“I’m glad you came,” he said. “We have a serious case today. Mrs. Rogan is on her way in with Boots. Her Lab’s eaten something—she’s not sure what, but she believes he has an intestinal blockage.”
“Ach, nay!” Nell breathed. “What will you do? Surgery?”
His handsome features were filled with concern. “I’ll do X-rays first to see if I can tell where the blockage is.”
“How can I help?”
He studied her intently. “Are you squeamish?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Did I seem squeamish yesterday? If you’re worried that I’ll faint at the sight of Boots’s insides, don’t be. I was in the room when my mam gave birth to Charlie, my youngest sister.” She smiled slightly; the memory wasn’t the most pleasant. “No one else was home.”
He raised his eyebrows. “How old were you?” he asked.
“Nine.”
He jerked in surprise. “You were only nine when you helped your mother deliver?”
“Ja.” Nell’s features softened. “I was scared. I can’t say I wasn’t, but once Charlie was born, I felt as if God had given us this wonderful new life. Charlie doesn’t know that it wasn’t the midwife who helped bring her into the world.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not important. What is important is that she is a healthy, wonderful young woman of fifteen.”
She wondered if James was doing the math to realize that she was twenty-four. She saw him frown. Was he thinking that at the age of twenty-four most Amish women had husbands and at least one child, if not more?
“I’m glad you’re not squeamish,” he said. “Boots will be here any minute, and I’m going to need you by my side.”
Even though she knew she shouldn’t, Nell liked the sound of his words, of her and James working as a team.
* * *
After hearing Nell’s story about delivering her youngest sister, James quickly did the math and was relieved to know her age. Then he frowned. Why did he care how old Nell was? It shouldn’t matter as long as she did her job, which so far she’d been doing well. He wondered why Nell wasn’t married.
Or was she? He’d never thought to ask. To do so now would seem...intrusive. He feared there was a story there, and one he wasn’t about to ask her about.
James found he liked the thought of having her at his side while he did the surgery. And why wouldn’t he, when after only one day she already had proved her worth?
“I’ll be ready,” she said. “I’ll hand you the instruments you’ll need. Maybe you can show me what they are now before Boots arrives? I don’t want to hand you the wrong thing.”
“Certainly.” He moved toward the machine on the counter. There were several packaged sterile instruments in the cabinet above it. “This is an autoclave,” he explained, gesturing toward the machine. “I put certain metal instruments in here to sterilize them.”
She nodded. “What are those?” she asked of the two packets he’d taken from the cabinet shelf.
James proceeded to tell her what they were—a scalpel and clamps. Then he pulled out a tray of other types and sizes of the same instruments as well as others. “You don’t have to be concerned,” he said. “I’ll pull out everything I need, and then I’ll point to the instrument I want on the tray. You don’t have to know all the names, although I imagine you’ll learn a few as we use them.”
He had just finished explaining the tools when he heard a commotion in the front room. “Boots is here,” he announced. He was aware that Nell followed closely behind him as he went to greet the concerned woman and her chocolate Lab.
Nell helped him x-ray Boots while the dog’s nervous owner sat in the waiting room. It turned out that Boots had swallowed a sock. After James relayed his diagnosis to Mrs. Rogan, he and Nell went to work. He encouraged Mrs. Rogan to go home, but the woman refused to leave until she knew that her dog was out of surgery and in recovery.
“Do you have other patients scheduled this morning?” Nell asked as she watched him put Boots under anesthesia.
“Fortunately, no. Not until this afternoon.”
He readied his patient. “May I have a scalpel?” He gestured toward the appropriate instrument. He needn’t have bothered because Nell had already picked it up and handed it to him.
He smiled. “Perfect. Thanks.”
She inclined her head, and they went back to the serious task at hand. It took just under an hour from the time they sedated the Lab until the time he was moved to recovery.
James went out to talk with Mrs. Rogan with Nell following. “Boots made out fine. We removed the sock, and there’s been no permanent injury.”
Edith Rogan shuddered out a sigh. “Thank goodness.” She visibly relaxed as she glanced from him to Nell standing behind him. “Thank you. Thank you both.”
“Boots may have to spend the night here,” he said. “I’ll keep a close eye on him today. If he does well, then you can take him home this evening. I’ll call and let you know.”
At that moment, the door opened and Mr. Rogan rushed in. “How is he?” he asked his wife.
“Fine,” James said. “The surgery went well, but I’m afraid you may be one sock short.”
The man shifted his attention from his wife to James. “You’re Dr. Pierce?”
James nodded.
“Thank you, Dr. Pierce. Edith and I have grown very attached to him.”
“He’s our baby now that our children are married and on their own,” Edith said.
“I understand,” Nell said softly, surprising James. “I have a dog. I have several animals, in fact, and I would feel awful if anything ever happened to them.”
Mr. Rogan studied her with curiosity. “You’re Amish.”
“I am?” Nell’s brown gaze twinkled.
The man laughed. “Sorry. Sometimes I speak before I think.”
“Well, you’re right, Mr. Rogan. I am a member of the Amish church and community, and I had the privilege to work with Dr. Pierce during Boots’s surgery.” She paused. “He’s a beautiful dog.”
The man smiled. “That he is,” he said.
“Edith, it’s time for us to leave and let the doctor and his assistant get back to the business of saving lives and making our pets better.”
“I’ll call you later,” James said as the couple headed to the door.
“I’ll check on him often,” Nell added.
The Rogans left, and suddenly James was alone with Nell. He was proud of the way she’d handled herself with Boots’s owners, and he was pleased with how she’d assisted during Boots’s surgery.
He glanced at his watch to see how much time he had before his first afternoon appointment.
“A successful surgery calls for a special lunch.” He grinned. “Hoagies!”
She laughed. “Hoagies?”
“Sandwiches.”
“Ja, that sounds gut,” she said. “But I’ll be bringing in lunch for us tomorrow.”
“Sounds gut to me.” James smiled. “We should check on Boots again before I order lunch.”
After ensuring that the Lab was doing