[i](collaboration between Sterling and idlehands)[/i]

[b]Doctor's Office, Laredo[/b]

The coffee was not bad, it was strong and bitter with a kick. He sipped it politely, not bothering to add milk or sugar as those were luxuries he had got used to doing without on the trail. Benj looked into his mug as she spoke about his injury, his dark image visible in the thick brew. Of course she would be interested, it was her nature as a healer. 

“You don’t have to apologize, Miss Coleman,” he said, “Most people act like they don’t see it or they stare.”

Benj looked her over, at the stray hairs escaping her sensible braid and her warm compassionate eyes. It was not surprising her brothers had served, but what side was the question. He had spent enough time in Tennessee to mark her accent as something from the mid south. There was enough disputed territory that the battles there were truly often brother against brother, blood against blood. 

He swirled the coffee, muttering as he watched his reflection distort, “The soul does take a battering in war. No man comes home the same as he left, even if he’s got all his limbs intact. If you were nurse in the war, then you saw enough to understand.”

When she changed subjects, he breathed out a soft sigh and glanced at the young woman. “I like it well enough. Mr. Cothran is a fair man, knows his business. Him and the McCalls have been kind to give me a chance at being a ranch hand.”

“I imagine it is quite different than the work you were doing before… Though I have noticed a similarity between soldiers and cattle…” Harriet smiled, obviously teasing just a little. 

The last part tasted almost as bitter on his tongue as the coffee. Not that there was anything wrong with working cattle, it was a fine profession and one many a man did in the area. But it was not being a Ranger, following in his father’s path as he had before the war. Keeping the peace and bringing men to justice was a difficult job but one he had found rewarding. Not that the Texas Rangers were around anymore, not in any official capacity. The Union army had seen to that, disbanding the legendary lawmen once they returned to establish order in the rebellious state. He ran a hand through his thick hair, rubbing the back of his neck and looked back at the nurse.

“He’s a widower, Mr. Cothran is,” he mentioned. Harriet was a single woman, if she was not interested in the older man for herself, then she might have some spinster friend looking for a husband. “If that’s something you were wondering.” 

The nurse startled at this comment, brown eyes widening first in surprise and then amusement. “I did actually know that about Mr. Cothran… A sad thing to lose a wife.” Not that Harriet would truly know...She had never been married, though she had lost two brothers in the war. “ I quite imagine if he wanted another wife he could find one easily enough. Having a ranch and all he’s fairly respectable.” 

The nurse smoothed down her apron idly and re clasped her hands. “Perhaps one of the Addison’s…” She named a pair of sisters who were very fresh and bright eyed, with curly blonde hair and big blue eyes Harriet had tended to several fellows who had gone to blows over the girls. “Though I rather think Mr. Cothran is too busy for such things…” 

How on earth had they come to this topic? Shaking her head Harriet looked down at his leg once more.

Benj followed her gaze down to his leg and he shifted it back, feeling the grinding in his knee. “I’m guessing you want to take a look see for yourself, Miss Coleman? Ain’t much to see but an ugly scar.”

Stifling another yawn, he set his coffee aside in case she wanted to see. It was not something he liked to show off but if she was sympathetic it would be easier to get her to give him what he needed. The chance she could do anything for it was extremely small, he had broken it more than three years prior.

She was torn. She did want to see it...but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable….But she did want to see it. Harriet obviously had some sort of inner battle before nodding. “If you wouldn’t mind, I admit I would like to see. A scar? Did they operate? How did it break? Where did it break? How long were you in hospital?” 

Once Harriet had admitted her curiosity the questions flowed out of her as she took a step closer.

Harriet collected the coffee, bringing it to the countertop where it would be safely out of the way. 

Benj paused only a moment as she peppered him with questions, the flashes of memory sparking in his fogged mind. It was not something he spoke of often, no one asked at the ranch except Mr. McCall when he hired him and Benj did not socialize much in town. He bent and began to roll up his pants, answering her as he did, “It was the Battle of Bentonville, right near the end of the war. We went up against Sherman’s boys, we mighta had a chance but something went wrong. I don’t really know, but they flanked us hard and...”

Harriet knelt to look at his leg as the pant leg was being rolled up. As he trailed off she looked up, eyes widening in an unspoken question.

He paused, surely the talk of war and tactics would bore her and he stood up, his leg exposed. The jagged scar along his pale hard flesh was still red, in some places nearly an inch wide. It ran from his calf to his knee, the muscle knotted and beneath it the bone had twisted as it had not healed straight and his knee was stiff from the tendon damage. 

She was quiet as she inspected the wound. The actual scar had that bright puffy quality that new ones did.  Tilting her head to see it from various angles the nurse’s lips parted in thoughtful contemplation. 

“Looks like a limb of a live oak,” he observed, “To answer your questions, a blue coat shot my horse out from under me. I kicked out of the stirrup but could not clear the saddle and he rolled over on me, my leg planted against the ground and snapped the bones in my lower leg and later my knee swelled up like a melon. One of my men dragged me off the battlefield and left me at the doc’s tent. He had his hands full, to be sure. I was bleeding pretty bad, I could...see the bone splinters poking at my pant leg.”

Clean hands moved slowly and gently up over the ankle, fingers running over the bones in his lower leg before easing up over his skin so lightly it almost seemed like it was hovering rather than touching. “Sounds like a painful event.” Was her only remark, eyes focused on the leg before her and the challenges it posed. She didn’t think it looked like a limb of live oak.  It looked like a hard life and a brave soul.

He closed his eyes for a moment, furrowing his brow, “I don’t know exactly what he did, something with a saw chain and taking out bone fragments. There were so many wounded. At one point he was so exhausted he called for his big saw just to take the leg off so he could move on. Soon as his back was turned, I rolled off the table and crawled away. I didn’t want him taking my leg. I’d be useless if he did.”

But he might have been in less pain now if the leg had been removed. Harriet’s hands moved up past the calf muscles to rest behind the knee. 

“I hid and had the blacksmith bind my leg tight, cost me a bottle of good whiskey but the doc never came looking for me,” he sniffed and finally looked her in the eyes, “He was up to his elbows in blood, one stubborn soldier wasn’t worth him wasting time looking for.”

Harriet rocked back on her heels to peer up at Mr. Ross furthermore. “Mmm I remember those days… It was hard to remember your own name let alone all of the injured men…” Lashes fluttered as she blinked rapidly, pushing the memories away. Those memories didn’t haunt the nurse as she was sure his did him, but now was not the time to hear the screams and smell the blood and taste the fear. 

He took a few deep breaths, as if the long speech had winded him and waited for her assessment. Benj raised his eyebrows slightly at the nurse, meeting her gaze as she spoke of working in the war. He had guessed as much, though she seemed young, there was a steely strength under her soft features. He said no more about it as she trailed off, those were wounds he was not wanting to open right now more than he already had. 

“Well Mr. Ross. It sounds like you did a very good job of injuring this leg… And I’m surprised you’re able to really walk as well as you do…” 

Harriet gestured to his knotted calf muscles. “I imagine the muscles in the rest of your leg are just as tense… I’d guess you are practically holding yourself up with your strength of will and body rather than the bone… “ He was probably exhausted by the end of each day. 

Frowning Harriet tilted her chin further, eyes moving back to his leg. In fact… How was he able to go on day in and day out? Her lips twitched, mouth turning to the side as a little hum escaped her lips. 

“May I?” She wanted to know, pressing her fingers into base of his ankle. 

If he agreed Harriet would very carefully start massaging the knotted muscles, hoping that with some pressure and massage they could relax some. It was a short term remedy. 

Medicines… The man must be heavily medicated. Physically strong, stubborn and medicated. That was how he got through the days. Or at least Harriet would be willing to bet on it. 

“I used a crutch for nearly a year but then I wanted to get back to making my own way,” he said as she examined him, “I suppose when you want to do something bad enough, you just do it.”

Harriet nodded. Yes. The human spirit could do incredible things. 

He shrugged, leaving it at that. Her hands were gentle and firm as she massaged the tight muscles of his scarred calf. Benj watched her for a moment and grunted slightly, “Riding ain’t too bad but bending it or walking too long makes it hurt. ”

Another nod, hands still busy. “I’d imagine you’d best be suited for stationary work where you could utilize your upper body…” 

It was a bit of an understatement as the bones of his knee rubbed together, the cartilage all but gone and the twisted bone ached constantly. The morphine was all that helped, not to mention the rush he used to get lost in. Now he hardly noticed it, dosing himself more to keep the withdrawal sickness at bay and to dull the agony of his leg. 

“Not much stationary work on a ranch, ma’am,” he replied, watching her as her hands moved over the disfigured leg. “Work has to get done, one way or the other.”

Hands working slowly and methodically Harriet massaged, keeping her fingers moving in small circles as she felt each knot and worked on it until it lessened to some degree.  Eyes focused on the task at hand and mind racing off in a hundred different directions Harriet’s hands just kept working, moving up his calf towards his knee. 

“You know, I’ve often thought that massage is over looked...The doctor is a nice enough man here but…” the nurse shrugged. He thought she was a simple woman and didn’t take much stock in her opinions in medical treatments. She didn’t want to say anything rude though about the man and trailed off, hands still moving up to the base of his knee. 

“Truth be told, I don’t really care for doctors,” Benj said, his unruly chestnut hair falling forward as he tilted his head down watching her work. “Nurses were always a comfort though. Something about a woman’s touch in times like those.”

“And extremely hot baths. When I was a little girl, I grew up on a farm, I loved hot baths. Now I know why. I used to feel like all my troubles would melt away in the bath… I was right. My body at least would relax and feel better…” 

Without thinking Harriet’s hands move to the top of Mr. Ross’ thigh, working in circles just above the knee and then to the back side. She had been right! His entire leg was a mess. 

He cleared his throat at the mention of a hot bath, those were too long associated with brothels in his mind and he shifted uncomfortably as her hand strayed higher. Hot baths were an occasional thing at the ranch, they mostly bathed in the creek or washed out of a basin. Benj always made sure that he was alone when he did so as he was not eager to find out Mr. Cothran’s reaction at the sight of his arms. Morphine was a common drug but the addiction was still seen as a shameful thing, a deficiency in character. 

“Are you on a regular medicine then, Mr. Ross? To  keep you as mobile as you are?” Frowning she dug her thumb into a particularly impressive knot, bending her neck to bring her focus on the problem area. 

Benj jerked his head slightly when she mentioned medicine and he skirted around the issue, slipping out a white lie, “Sometimes I take some laudanum, if it’s too much to bear.”

The brunette bit the inside of her cheek. That seemed unlikely, however it wasn’t her place to call Mr. Ross a liar. Trying to be more comforting she added nonchalantly “With a wound like this I would think you’d need something a touch stronger than Laudanum…”

“Where did you grow up Mr. Ross?” She asked, trying to keep the polite conversation going as she worked.

“And what did you do before the War?”

Hands moving a bit higher. 

“Do you like Texas well enough? I’ve found Laredo to be a surprisingly enterprising town myself…”