Read Small Treasures for Free Online Page A

dress!"
    She frowned up at him and moved to the stove. She grabbed up a pan of still-boiling water and poured off some of it into a bowl. Carefully Abby then dipped first the needle then the thread into the water.
    "What're you doin'?" Samuel asked cautiously.
    "Something Dr. Talbot back home taught me." She threw him a quick glance and noticed that he'd backed up another pace or two. Shaking her head, she threaded the needle. "He believed that everything that touched a wound should be clean. Said it cut down on infections and fevers and the like." She looked up at him and smiled. "It always seemed to work."
    He nodded but didn't look convinced.
    Abby pointed to the bed. "Sit down, Samuel."
    He shook his head.
    "For heaven's sake." She held up her hands.
    "It's just a needle and thread, Samuel."
    "I can see that."
    Maverick and Harry lay on the floor, their heads turning first one way then the other, as though following the conversation closely.
    "Then come sit down and let me take care of your wound."
    "You ever done this before, Abby?"
    She met his gaze squarely. Her face calm, mouth curved in a gentle smile, she looked up into his worried eyes and lied like a drunk politician. "Many times, Samuel."
    He relaxed and moved reluctantly toward the bed. As he dropped slowly to the edge of the mattress, Abby reached for a chair and told herself that it was for his own good that she lied. After all, she'd seen Doc Talbot do the same thing to any number of people. And she was the best seamstress in Maryland. How much more difficult could it be stitching together jagged flesh rather than torn fabric?
    Before she began, she took more of the hot water, and with a fresh cloth she cleaned the area carefully. It really was quite a gash, she thought worriedly. Her mouth suddenly dry, she swallowed convulsively and inhaled deeply.
    Samuel held his hand rock steady, and she gave him one more smile before starting. "This will probably hurt, Samuel. I'm afraid there's nothing to be done about that."
    "I been hurt before." He nodded. "Like you said. It's just a needle."
    She nodded back, then bent her head to her task. When the needle pierced his flesh for the first time, Abby sensed his discomfort. He hadn't moved an inch. He'd said nothing. But just the same, she knew. And she shared his feelings. Constantly her mind reminded her that she'd seen blood before. She'd seen other wounds, some far more severe. That what she was doing was necessary. But just as often she remembered that this was Samuel she was working on. And she found it hard to ignore that. Quickly, neatly, she aligned small black stitches along the length of his finger. Every time she made a knot though, she couldn't help wishing it were the last.
    His hand lay in her lap, and as she worked, she couldn't help noticing the other scars and the old calluses that marked his skin. She wondered briefly who had tended to him before her.
    It seemed to take forever. She heard his regular breathing, felt the strength in the hand she held. His nearness brought an uneasy warmth that she tried to push aside. Time and again Abby pulled air deeply into her lungs as she fought the faint-headedness creeping up on her.
    The room was so quiet, she could hear the snapping of the fire and the dogs' rapid breathing. As she made the last knot, she even heard her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. She sighed with relief when her task was finished at last. But when she moved to look up at Samuel, Abby saw instead columns of black ness closing in on her from each side.
    Samuel's face seemed to move farther away. She thought she saw his lips moving, but whatever he said was lost in the rushing sound that suddenly filled the cabin. Instinctively she reached out for him, hoping to reach him before the blackness swallowed her up. But it was too late, and she fell forward into the dark.
    "Abby? Abby? … Dammit, Abby! Wake up!"
    She turned toward the voice calling her and tried to open her eyes. Someone