Nearly dropping my buttons, I raced along with the other men to find McGee holding his hand, which was covered in blood.
Instantly O’Doule went to work, sitting him down and grabbing clean rags to wrap his finger tightly, raising it up over his head and squeezing tight.
"Clear out, boys, I've got this,” O'Doule ordered. Everyone left immediately, a few of them looking a bit pale.
But I stayed. "My mother taught me some things," I said quickly. "I could help if you like."
"Aye, grab me a mug, and pour in two splashes from the clear bottle on the bottom shelf."
As I pulled the cork and poured, I caught a whiff of something that was even sharper than the rum. Handing it to O’Doule, he lowered McGee's hand, wiping off the blood then splashing some of the liquid along the cut.
It hurt my heart to see McGee’s teeth grinding together as he stifled a yell. Whatever it was, it must have stung something fierce. O’Doule handed him the mug and he drank down the rest.
"Bloody northerners and their potato swill," McGee growled.
"Prevents infection," O'Doule said sternly. I brought the lamp over so that he could examine the wound more closely. "Bugger it. Lad, you really sliced yourself deep."
McGee hung his head. “The blasted knife slipped and somehow I caught it with both hands."
O'Doule cocked his head, thinking. "We might have to wrap this tight, and get you to the doc in Tegarren Point for some stitches."
I leaned closer, examining the straight line of the cut. "I can do it," I offered. They both looked at me in shock.
"I had to stitch a cut on my mother’s back once, from where… It doesn't matter. It's the same as sewing, you simply run the needle through the flame of the lamp first to make sure it's clean."
McGee nodded. "Better now than tomorrow, and better you than a stranger, I suppose."
I ran to fetch a needle and thread, then came back to run the needle through the flame. O'Doule poured McGee a measure of rum, and he drank it in one swig.
I wiped down his hand as well as I could, stretching it out across the table with cloths underneath. "The good news is, this should only take a few minutes," I said.
“The bad news is, it might sting like the devil, and it might give you the willies something fierce."
"Do you need me to stay to hold his hand down, lass?" O'Doule asked.
I looked McGee in the eye. "Will you keep still?" He nodded very seriously.
"Good," said O'Doule. "Then I'll tell the Captain we don't need to rush as much to Tegarren Point. I can hear him planning to hoist the extra sails, yet it’s a bad time of the evening for it.”
He left quickly, and I saw McGee tense his arm, while looking away. “Go ahead, Miss. I might mutter some rather blue words, but I won’t move.”
I could barely stomach the next part, but I had to. Like when I was stitching up my mother, I had to put aside my squeamish feelings, and simply attend to the task at hand. Taking a deep breath in, and blowing it out slowly, I gripped McGee's skin, and began to sew.
It was obvious that McGee’s teeth were grinding together, and he could barely stand the sting. "Look up to the ceiling, never at what I'm doing," I said quickly. "What is your mother's name?"
His head twitched and he seemed confused, but I just kept stitching steadily, as quickly as I could. "Patricia," he said, his voice slightly raspy.
"Tell me all about the best meal that she ever made for the holidays when you were young."
He didn't question my diversion tactic, launching into extravagant detail about her turkey dinner with stuffing, pumpkin pie, and molasses glazed rosemary carrots. By the time he was finished, so was I. Tearing the cleanest rag into strips, I wrapped his finger and hand as snuggly as I could.
"If the pressure is too tight in an hour, let me know and I’ll loosen it off a bit," I said.
He nodded, his breathing more steady now that the painful part was over. I began scrubbing everything up while he took a moment to collect himself.
“Now, my mother said that garlic and onion are good for fighting infections,” I said, “So I’ll cook with those for the next few days, and give you extra. I’ll be making dinner tonight, as you can’t get that wet or dirty.”
“Yes, thank you, Miss,” McGee said. I couldn’t be sure if the usually outspoken man was being meek due to the pain of the stitches, or that he wasn’t used to being so near a woman for so long.