Chapter 29

Except for the flickering of the few marker lamps to provide guidance in the still, moonlit night, and the rumble of voices and tinkling of glasses from the saloon, the streets of Colorado Springs were so deserted one would have been forgiven for mistaking it for a ghost town. But then a lone drunken figure lurched from the porch of the Gold Nugget and set out unsteadily across the narrow street. His blurry eyes set on the darkened windows of the clinic, Stu Burns had only one thing on his mind - the lovely, new lady doctor who, he'd just heard, wasn't choosy about her man friends.

Breaking the silence of the late evening, he stumbled clumsily up onto the clinic porch and to the main door of the building. Leaning drunkenly against the door jamb, he knocked once, twice, three times, each time a little more forcefully than the last. He was about to knock again when he heard faint footsteps inside and then a soft woman's voice asked, "Who's there?"

His heart skipped a beat and he said breathily, "Doc?"

"Who's there?" she repeated.

"I'm sick Doc," he slurred. "Real sick .."

"What's your name?" she asked.

He heard the door handle rattle as if she'd taken hold of it. "Think I'm gonna faint," he muttered dramatically, adding a moan for affect. He abruptly dropped to his knees, a dull thud against the hard wooden boards of the porch, and moaned once more.

Anna quickly turned the key in the door and pulled it open. He peered blearily up at her, noting the robe hastily pulled over her nightgown, and he grimaced as if a spasm had suddenly struck. She stooped towards him a little and asked anxiously, "Are you in pain? Where?"

"Its think its me heart Doc," he moaned, clutching at his chest.

"Oh dear!" she exclaimed, wildly looking around. "I need to get you inside ... but I can't do it myself ... I'll ask someone from the saloon ..."

"No," he protested bravely. "I can do it ... just take my hand ... I'll be alright ..."

"But your heart ..."

"Pain aint so bad now ... here ... help me up ..."

She immediately offered her hand and he awkwardly hauled himself to his feet, uttering suitable moans and groans. Leaning heavily against her, they took a couple of steps through the doorway.  "Through there ... to the clinic," she panted, having difficulty coping with his considerable weight.

He nodded, but did not turn to the left as she'd instructed. He peered towards the stairs and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, resting even more weight against her. She felt nice. Smelt nice too. He could wait no longer. At the bottom of the stairs he faltered and stumbled, bringing her down to the floor with him as he fell, deliberately landing with his weight atop her. She gasped as his knee dug into her thigh and her upper back crashed against the hard corner of the first step. She momentarily struggled beneath his weight, thinking he'd lost consciousness, then suddenly she became aware of his dark, glittering eyes on her and his hand moving suggestively against her hip. She froze and he smiled triumphantly.

She couldn't believe she'd been duped. "You're ... you're alright," she stammered, struggling in vain to roll him off her.

He chuckled. "Feelin' better by the minute little lady," he sneered. His hot, alcohol laden breath made her gag.  He dropped his head closer to hers.

"Please ... don't hurt me ... my son ... he's upstairs," she pleaded.

He leered at her. "I know it," he said in a breathy, menacing whisper. "Heard about him an' you ... just now ... couldn' believe my luck ..."

"Please," she implored, as his head came down towards hers. As he tried to kiss her, she turned her head quickly to the side and again attempted to move his bulk from her.

"Gonna be like that are ya little lady," he muttered, steel in his tone. "Be better for ya if you cooperated ... Don' want anyone gettin' hurt do we ..."

By now sobs were rising in her chest. She wanted to scream out, but she didn't want Jamie discovering her here like this. "Please," she begged. "Don't ... please don't hurt me ..."

*****************
Sick to death of Loren's carping about Anna McLeod and her son, Hank stepped out onto the saloon porch for a breath of fresh air.  Thankfully, most of the customers were starting to head for home now, so soon he'd be able to close up.

Truth was, the new lady doctor had him in a quandary. He didn't know how he felt about her son and his parentage, but he certainly knew how he felt about her. He didn't remember feeling this way about a woman before. He'd thought he'd loved Clarice, years back now, but he'd never had this feeling in the pit of his stomach, or this quickening of his heartbeat with her. Trouble was, he was fearful he'd never get anywhere with Anna McLeod. They were so different, and now there was her son to take into account. He shook his head ruefully, then stumbled as a customer, a little under the weather, shoved into his shoulder as he exited the saloon. He fought the instinct to shove the fella back, but then, he had to remember, fellas who drank plenty were good for business.

Again his thoughts turned to the doctor. He gazed across the street at the darkened clinic. In years past he'd gazed across there often enough, but certainly never felt like he did right now. There was a short time, some five or six years back, when he'd wondered about Michaela, but he'd realised pretty quick nothing was going to come of it. Perhaps that's what he should be thinking about Anna McLeod too. But then, it wasn't in his nature to give up without a fight.

He was about to turn back into the smoke and light of the saloon when something unusual caught his eye, or rather, his attention. Something was different about the front of the building opposite. It took him a few seconds to realise what it was. The main door of the clinic was standing wide open so a faint light from the inside lamp spilt out into the porch. His eyes narrowed. Anna knew she had to keep the door locked.

He set off across the street at a run, took the clinic porch in a single stride and rushed through the open doorway. The sight that met his eyes made his body tense and then his blood boil. In one single fluid movement, he took the few steps to the bottom of the stairs, stooped and grasped the collar of Anna's assailant, then heaved him off her, sending him flying backwards hard against the wall. He spun around to face the man, his fists balled, his face red and his eyes glittering in anger. "What the hell do ya think you're doin'?!" he roared, advancing towards the man.

Stu Burns cowered back against the wall, his hands up to protect his face. "I ... I ...," he stammered.

"You what?" roared Hank, his anger building instead of dissipating. He lashed out with his fist, connecting with the man's mouth and chin. "You what?" he repeated, leaning menacingly over him.

"I ...I ...," Stu attempted again.

Again Hank lashed out, this time with his boot. He'd drawn back his fist to hit him again, when a gentle but insistent hand grasped his arm and a soft, yet authoritative voice said, "No Hank ... don't ... that's enough ..." He paused, barely able to control his rage.  "Please," she entreated. "Don't hit him again ..."

He slowly lowered his fist to his side and muttered, "He was hurtin' ya ..."

"Yes ... he was," she said from beside him. "But he's stopped now ..."

He swallowed and took a deep breath. "Gotta do somethin' with him," he said, his voice hard and low.

"I don't care what you do with him ... as long as you don't hit him anymore ... and you get him out of here ... please ..."

He turned to face her. "I'll take him down ta the jail ... an' we'll talk about it in the mornin' ... alright?" he suggested, moved by her vulnerability and appearance. She had a dull red smudge on her cheek and her robe was hanging open. But it was her hair! He'd always wondered what that beautiful white gold hair would look like when it was unleashed from its pins.  Long and tightly curled, it framed the delicate features of her face and seemed to shimmer in the lamplight. He fought the urge to reach out and touch it.  

She nodded gratefully, then crossed her arms across her chest defensively as shock set in and she began to tremble.

He glanced back at the drunk who had remained where he was, his hand held to his bloody mouth, then turned back to her. She was peering up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Did he ... I mean ... did he ...?" Hank attempted.

She shook her head as one silent tear rolled down her face. That was too much for Hank. He took a tentative step towards her and then opened his arms to draw her in against himself. There was one moment of slight hesitation before she leaned in, resting her cheek against his chest and sighing softly as the trembling slowly eased.

It felt so good to hold her, to feel her softness against him, to know she was not repulsed by him, that she trusted him. He could go on holding her forever.

At last she was the one to pull back. "Thank-you," she said softly. "If you hadn't come along ..."

He swiftly held his finger against her mouth. "But I did," he returned. "An' you're safe now ..." He glanced back at the man who was at last attempting to get to his feet. "How'd he get in here anyway?" he asked.

"He said he was sick," she replied, swallowing as she watched him awkwardly stand.

Hank shook his head ruefully. "I'll take him down to the jail ... you lock the door after me ... alright?" She nodded and he turned and grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck. What he'd give for the chance to beat the living daylights out of him! Instead, he shoved him toward the door. "Lock it after me," he repeated, again giving the man a shove.

"I will ... and thank-you," she said. She watched them step off the porch and head up the street, then closed the door and turned the key in the lock. For a moment she leaned back against the locked door, and took several deep breaths, her emotions in turmoil, then she slowly made her way back upstairs to her room.

*******************
Michaela drew the wagon to a halt in front of the clinic and stepped down from the seat to the ground. The first chill of fall seemed to be in the morning air and she shivered. She reached up for her medical bag, then moved around to tether the horse loosely to the hitching post. She was just about to enter the clinic when she was arrested by Brian calling, "Ma ... ma ...," as he ran towards her from the direction of the Gazette office.

She immediately stepped down from the porch and met him by the horse trough. "Brian?" she queried.

Once he had her attention he seemed to hesitate. Then he said quietly, "When I got here this mornin', Mr Bray asked me ta print these up ... I did it ... but ... well ... I wondered whether you knew anythin' about it ... He wants me ta put 'em up all over town ..." He handed her a couple of notices.

She quickly perused the simple message and her jaw clenched. She glanced across to the mercantile, her lip caught between her teeth in consternation.

"Ma ... do ya think ... well ... do ya think he's talkin' about Dr McLeod?" questioned Brian, obviously hoping his mother would know the notice concerned something else.

Her gaze returned to her son, her eyes narrowed and glittering with anger. "I'm sorry Brian," she said at last. "This is the first I've heard of a town council meeting ..."

He frowned in disappointment. "Do ya think its about Dr McLeod?" he asked in a small voice.

"I sincerely hope not," she replied. She abruptly handed him her medical bag and said, "Take this inside for me will you ... I think I'll have a word with Loren ... oh ... and don't put up any of the notices until you hear from me ... alright?"

He nodded. "I won't ma," he said, his disillusionment obvious.

She momentarily grasped his hand reassuringly, then set off across the street for the mercantile.

She stepped inside the cluttered store seeking its proprietor and was relieved to see there were as yet very few customers. She desired as few witnesses to their conversation as possible. She watched him hand change to Teresa Slicker who was on her way across to the school and then, as the teacher left, approached him. Trying vainly to contain her anger, she placed one of the notices down on the counter and asked, "What's this about Loren? ... I wasn't informed of any town council meeting ..."

He momentarily looked disconcerted and then rejoined, "I talked ta Hank ... an' Grace cos Robert E's in Denver ..."

"And they said we should have a town council meeting?" she asked, her tone cold.

"They didn' disagree with me," he returned defensively.

"What about Jake? ... And *I* would have appreciated being asked ..."

"You weren't here ... neither was Jake ... but I know he'll agree with me ..."

"What's the hurry? ... Surely you could have waited until we were all consulted ..."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Just doin' the right thing by the townsfolk is all ...," he muttered knowingly.

"And what *is* the right thing Loren?" Michaela demanded, anger at last evident in her tone.

"They gotta have a say," he rejoined at once.

"A say in what?" she demanded.

"A say in who lives in this town ..."

"I thought we lived in a free country ..."

"We do ... but that don' mean folks o' loose morals should be allowed ta live alongside law abiding folks ..."

Michaela took a deep breath. "Perhaps you'd better tell me to whom you're referring," she intoned.

"You know who I'm talkin' about ..."

She shook her head. "No ... perhaps you'd better tell me ..."

Loren bristled. "Alright ... if that's that way you're gonna be ... I'm talkin' about that new lady doctor ... that's who ..."

Michaela frowned, inwardly disappointed in her friend. She lowered her voice. "And what's led you to believe she has loose morals?" she queried mildly.

He regarded her in surprise. "You've seen that boy o' hers aint ya?"

She nodded. "But I still don't understand," she said quietly.

"That kid's got Negro in him ... its as plain as the nose on your face ..."

"Yes?"

"That means she ... she ..."

"She was married to a black man ... yes ..."

Loren's eyebrows shot up. "They were married?" he questioned.

"Yes," she replied calmly.

"Well that don' change anythin' ... It aint right," he blustered.

"Its not against the law ..."

"It oughta be ..."

"Why's that?"

"Folks should keep to their own kind ... It's the way o' the world ..."

"I'd have thought the way you live your life is much more important than who you choose to live it with," she advised quietly.

"Oooh ... I shoulda known you'd be like this about it," he bemoaned.

"Yes ... you should have," she agreed. "What purpose is a town council meeting going to serve?"

"It'll give people a chance ta say what they think ..."

"Or perhaps to air their prejudices ... and what if they agree with you?"

"Then Dr McLeod'll have ta leave ..."

"And if she refuses?"

He frowned. "She wouldn't ...," he said in consternation.

"I refused to leave," Michaela said quietly.

"Yeah ... but that's different ... It was only your job people objected to ..."

Michaela shook her head in wonder. "Sometimes I really don't understand you Loren," she said. "When you discovered Dorothy had married Cloud Dancing, you didn't talk of running them out of town ..."

"That's cos they keep it to themselves ... I don' like it ... but I can put up with it ... Besides, you know what Dorothy means ta me ..."

"Yes I do ... Does that mean its alright to run Anna McLeod out of town just because you don't know her?"

"Course it don' ... What she's done aint right ... you ask anyone ... That boy o' hers'll always be remindin' us ..."

Michaela sighed. "So ... if Anna had kept it quiet ... if she hadn't brought Jamie here ... then it would have been alright ..."

Loren frowned again, silenced by her logic.

"And what do you think Jake's going to say about this when he finds out?"

"I figure he'll agree with me ... He usually does ..."

"His circumstances have changed a little the past couple of years," she commented. When Loren's brow furrowed, she added, "He married Teresa ... and she's Mexican ..."

"That's different."

"Different to Dorothy and Cloud Dancing? Or Anna and her husband?"

"Its just different," the storekeeper blustered.

"And soon they'll have a child ... just like Anna ... a child of mixed blood," continued Michaela. "Who will be brought up here ... go to the school ..."

"I tell ya ... its different ..," Loren insisted.

Michaela shook her head. "You never cease to amaze me Loren," she said wearily. "As soon as I think you've changed, you do something like this ..." When he looked to be about to interject she continued, "Anna won't leave you know ... just because a few prejudiced people say she shouldn't stay ... she's stronger than that ... She likes it here ... and she loves her little boy dearly ... She wants to bring him up in a town that will accept him ... and I'm going to do everything in my power to help her ... here in Colorado Springs ..."

Loren shrugged. "I aint surprised I guess ... but someone's gotta think about the town's future ... We've got enough misfits here as it is ... without somethin' like this ..."

"So you won't change your mind? About the town council meeting?"

He shook his head. "If the town council says she can stay, then I guess I'll abide by that ... but til then ..."

"You know I'll speak in favour of her staying don't you?"

"Uh huh ... but you're only one ...," he returned. "Now enough o' this ... I got work ta do ..." He turned away from her and began to stack a shelf with canned peas.

Michaela sighed in exasperation, then turned on her heel and left the store. The last thing Anna needed right now was this. She had really believed that this town had grown beyond its petty prejudices.  Would they listen at the town council meeting, or would it be like so many others where the accused had been given little opportunity to respond? As she crossed the street, she was already preparing in her head what she would say.

*******************
Riding back into town from Hank's new place, Sully spied Matthew hurrying toward the train station. He pulled up alongside, and slid from his horse's back. "Hey Matthew ... You're in a hurry," he said. "Someone ask ya to do some lawyer work?"

The younger man didn't break stride. "Hank's got a fella in the jail ... asked me ta wire for the circuit judge, seein' the law in Denver knows me ...," he replied.

Sully smirked. "What's this one done," he asked a touch cynically.

Matthew slowed his pace. "This one really has committed a crime Sully ... He got into the clinic last night ... hurt Dr McLeod ...," he explained.

Sully halted in shock. "She alright?" he asked anxiously, glancing back towards the clinic.

"Uh huh ... Hank stopped him before anythin' too bad happened ... Look ... I gotta get ta the telegraph office ..."

Sully nodded. "Does ya ma know about this?"

Matthew shrugged. "I dunno ... I guess ... Dr McLeod woulda told her wouldn' she?"

"Yeah .. I s'pose ... I'm gonna go check on 'em ..."

Matthew nodded and quickened his pace toward the train station, while Sully ran toward the clinic. Once there, he knocked on the door and pushed it open. Michaela looked up from her files, "Sully!" she exclaimed in surprise. "I thought you were working out at Hank's ..."

"Yeah .. I was ... ran outta nails," he replied. "How's Anna?"

Michaela frowned at the odd question. "She's fine ... She's not working this morning ... Jamie's started school and she and Lucille are unpacking ..."

He regarded her, puzzled, then beckoned her toward the doorway. He asked quietly, "She tell ya what happened?"

Michaela stood and crossed to him, obviously perplexed. "What do you mean ... what happened?" she repeated.

"Last night ..."

She shook her head. "What are you talking about Sully?"

"Matthew told me ... fella got in ... attacked Anna ..."

Michaela gasped. "But ... I saw her .. this morning ... She seemed fine ..." She paused, then admitted, "A little subdued perhaps ..."

"That's understandable I reckon ..."

"Did he?" she asked fearfully.

He shook his head. "Matthew says no ... Hank stopped him ..."

"Why didn't she tell me ..."

"Maybe she didn' want people talkin' about it ..."

"But she's my friend ..."

Anna, entering the clinic to ask Michaela something, saw the two at the door, and not wanting to intrude, wandered across to the desk to wait. It was then that she spied Loren's notice. She picked it up, read the contents and her eyes widened with horror. A stifled gasp had Michaela and Sully spinning around to face her. She raised her eyes to them, and then asked shakily, "What's ... what's this about Michaela?"

Chapter 30

Young Samantha Bing sat on the seat outside the schoolhouse, her lunch pail on her lap, and watched as those same two boys picked on her new friend Jamie again. She couldn't work it out. She'd met him yesterday at the clinic just after he came to town and she liked him. He smiled a lot and he seemed to like her, even if she was younger than him and a girl. She wondered if she should go over there, but those boys were awful big. She suddenly didn't feel like finishing her lunch. Maybe school wasn't going to be such a good place after all. She stuffed her unfinished sandwich into her pail and wandered away to sit by herself. She didn't want to be picked on either, just because she was new.

******************
"What is this?" asked Anna again, holding the notice in her hand. "Is this about me?" she asked of Michaela and Sully.

Sully frowned and walked across to take the notice from her. "I don' know anythin' about it," he said, turning his attention to its contents.

"Michaela?" asked Anna.

Michaela lowered her eyes. "Its Loren ...," she said, feeling unaccountably ashamed. "He asked Brian to print them ..."

"But you're on the town council ... you must have known about it ..."

"No ... I didn't," Michaela returned. "He called the meeting without consulting me ..."

"So the other members must have agreed ..."

"Not all ... He only talked with a couple ..."

"And they agreed ..."

"Let's just say they didn't disagree ..."

Anna shook her head ruefully. "Its about me isn't it?" She reached across and took the paper from Sully. "Problems with new arrivals in town it says ... that's me isn't it? Why am I such a problem?" She slumped down on the chair at the desk, close to tears.

Michaela hurried across to her. "You're not a problem ... nor is your family ... not to us ... and many others in this town ... but I'm afraid there's a small minority of bigots who will take some time to come around ..."

"Oh yes," muttered Anna bitterly. "I've already met one of those ..."

Michaela took a deep breath. "The one who got into the clinic last night?" she ventured.

Anna's eyes flew to hers. "How did you know?" she asked.

"I met up with Matthew just before he wired for the circuit judge," Sully explained quietly. "He told me ..."

Anna's eyes widened in horror. "Circuit judge?!" she exclaimed. "Hank was supposed to talk to me before he did anything about it ..."

"The fella's in jail ... somethin' has ta be done with him," returned Sully.

"But a judge? A trial?" expostulated Anna. She slumped further into her chair. "Can you imagine what will be said in that trial? Do you know why that man came to the clinic last night ... why he thought he could have his way with me?" she lamented. When the couple regarded her in puzzlement, she explained, "He thought I'd be anyone's because I'd slept with a black man ... that's why ... and that's what will be said in court ... I can't face that ... and what about Jamie? He shouldn't have to either ... He's just an innocent little boy ..." By now tears were pouring down her cheeks. "Perhaps we should just leave," she murmured, half to herself. "Perhaps we'll never fit in here ..."

"No," protested Michaela at once. "Please don't give up because of a prejudiced few ..."

Anna peered up at her. "This council meeting? Its open to anyone?" she questioned.

"Yes," replied Michaela, unable to meet her colleague's eyes.

"So the same things that will be said in court will be said at the council meeting," she concluded, disheartened.

"But you get to put your side of it," suggested Sully.

"If they'll let her," rejoined Michaela. "You know what they're like Sully ... Of course as a member of the council I'll have the opportunity to speak on Anna's behalf ... but getting them to listen to her ..."

"We've gotta," Sully rejoined.  "We've gotta make 'em listen ..."

"Its no use Sully ... Michaela," Anna said quietly. "I'll never manage to tell them my story ... and even if by some chance I did ... there's no saying it will make any difference ..."

"But ya gotta defend yourself," asserted Sully. "They can't get away with this ..."

"But how?" murmured Anna despairingly.

There was a sudden silence in the room as each contemplated the near impossible. At last Michaela said, "All the town council members won't agree with Loren ... If I can persuade them to let you speak ..." She trailed off, her mind whirling.

"The meetin's day after tomorra," said Sully. "We got some time ..."

"If Dorothy was here I know she'd support you," mused Michaela. "You'd like her ... she's editor of the Gazette ..."

"She's a long ways from here Michaela," interjected Sully.

She nodded, dispirited. At last she said, "We'll think of something ... Like Sully said ... we have a couple of days ..."

At close to breaking point, Anna nodded disconsolately. "I hope so," she murmured. "I like it here ..."

"Despite what happened last night?" queried Sully.

"Yes ... despite that ... Next time I'll be more careful ... though when someone tells you he's sick ..."

"That's what he did?" exclaimed Michaela.

Anna nodded. "I had no reason to doubt him. He sounded like he was ill ..."

"Maybe I better stay in town tonight ..," suggested Sully. "Maybe til after the town council meetin' ..."

"I can't have you doing that!" protested Anna. "You have a family ..."

"We'd never forgive ourselves if anythin' happened to you," returned Sully.

"He's right," said Michaela. "How I wish there was a way you could call someone if such a thing happened again ... It was lucky Hank came along ..."

Anna nodded. "I'll be forever grateful to him," she said. "But I still don't feel right about you staying in town Sully ..."

He raised his hand to her objections. "Like everythin' else ... things'll work out ...," he said. "Now what are ya gonna do about this trial Hank's organisin'?"

She frowned and then stood. "Perhaps I should go and speak with him ... I don't know whether I could go through a trial ..."

Both Michaela and Sully nodded and she quickly exited.

*****************
Loren pushed through the swing doors of the saloon and spied Hank counting cash at the bar. Technically the Nugget wasn't open yet, but there was one fella sitting at a table with a near full whisky bottle in front of him.

"I was just down at the telegraph office an' heard what happened last night," Loren exclaimed, as he approached the barkeep.

Hank straightened and glared at his friend. "Might not wanna get too close old man," he said in a low tone. "This fist's itchin' ta connect with your face ..."

Loren halted in his tracks and regarded the barkeep in astonishment. "What's got into you Hank? I aint done anythin' to you ..."

Hank glowered at him and went back to counting the pile of notes on the counter.

"Well if ya gonna be like that ... you could at least tell me what I'm supposed to've done," demanded Loren indignantly.

Hank looked up and glowered once more. At last he muttered angrily, "Always knew that mouth o' yours'd cause trouble one day ..."

Loren's brow creased in puzzlement, then thinking back to his recent encounter with Dr Mike, he asked, "This got somethin' ta do with the town council meetin'? You didn' object last night ..."

"Didn' get a chance ... you wouldna listened anyway ... but no ... this aint got anythin' ta do with the town council meetin'."

"What then?"

Hank deliberately placed the notes back on the counter, straightened and met his friend's eyes. "You said you know what happened to Doc McLeod last night?" he questioned. Loren nodded. "You caused it," accused Hank.

"Me?!" exclaimed Loren. "I did no such thing ..."

"Oh yes ya did ... you an' your big mouth ..." While that same mouth opened and closed like a fish, Hank continued, his tone still accusing, "You know the last thing Stu Burns said ta me before he passed out on his cot in the jail last night?" Loren shook his head. "He said he'd been listening to you an' your big mouth go on an' on about the new Doc an' her kid ... heard you say she had loose morals ... didn' mind who she slept with ... so he decided he wanted ta try her out ..."  

Loren gasped.  "You know that aint what I meant," he defended.

Hank snorted disdainfully. "That aint the point ... that's the way it sounded to him ... He almost raped her Loren ... an' you'd be ta blame ..."

"Ya can't say that Hank," the storekeeper objected loudly. "That woman's trouble an' this only proves it ..."

"No ... it proves you're too high an' mighty for your own good is all ...," Hank retorted. "Folks listen to you cos you're on the town council an' you've bin here a long time ... maybe they should be told not ta listen to you anymore ... You're an old fool ..."

"But!"

"But nothin' ... That town council meetin' ... I won't be supportin' ya ... That woman has a right ta make a home here as anyone ... an' I'm gonna be votin' for her an' her kid ta stay ..."

Loren's eyes narrowed and his mouth clamped shut. At last he said quietly, "We're friends Hank ... an' friends support each other ..."

"Not when they're wrong they don't ... an' this time you're wrong ... dead wrong ... You even know the woman's story?"

"No ... but ..."

"Well maybe ya better find out ... before ya act against her," concluded Hank. "Now I got work ta do here before customers start arrivin' ... I expect you have too ..." He deliberately lowered his eyes to the cash on the counter and half turned away from the storekeeper.

With that, Loren humphed in disgust and pushed angrily through the swing doors back out into the morning light. He'd show Hank Lawson.

*******************
Loren locked the door and pulled the blinds of the mercantile, then walked across to where the Reverend was sitting at the table waiting to hear the news in the latest edition of the Colorado Springs Gazette. Truth was, he didn't feel much like reading, but the Reverend expected it. It was his way of keeping up with what was happening in town.

Loren was actually feeling a little depressed. For the past two days people he'd always considered friends had shunned him, even Jake. Hank still wasn't talking to him and this morning in the street even Sully had had difficulty being civil. He still believed he was doing the right thing calling the town council meeting. There must be lots of folks who thought the same way he did, mustn't there?

He sat down opposite the Reverend and picked up this afternoon's Gazette.  He glanced at the few pages and said, "Aint a lot in this one Reverend ... Won't take us long ta get through it ..." He returned to the front page. "There's an editorial by Dorothy," he outlined. "An' of course there's the notice about the town council meetin'."

The Reverend grimaced. He'd already made his thoughts known on that subject. "I heard someone say there was an article about Dr McLeod on the front page too," he said with interest.

"Ah .. yeah ... there is," responded Loren reluctantly. "Takes up nearly half a page ..."

"Let's start with that hmmm?"

Unbeknownst to the Reverend, he was subjected to an angry glare. Loren then flicked the newspaper agitatedly and began. "The first part's by Brian," he announced before beginning.

"I asked Dr McLeod for an interview when she first arrived in town, but she suggested I should wait a couple of weeks until she'd settled in and we knew a little more about her. I guess she wanted to wait until her family arrived from Washington.  Considering all the talk around town, I mentioned the interview again yesterday, but instead she asked me to print her story in her own words. I think everyone will learn a lot."

Loren paused and humphed in disgust before continuing, "My Story, by Dr Anna McLeod," he read.

"By now most readers will know that Dr Quinn has asked me to make a home here in Colorado Springs and to work with her in her medical clinics in town and at the Chateau. She assured me that I would come to love this small town and its people and even after I told her my story she was convinced this was the best place for me to live and work.

I attended the same medical school as Dr Quinn - the Pennsylvania Women's Medical College - and graduated some nine years ago. Like Dr Quinn I had great difficulty finding a position in a big eastern city until I was offered employment at a small hospital a little south of Washington, my hometown. As soon as I arrived at the hospital I knew why I had been successful in securing the position. It was a most depressing place. The patients were mainly soldiers. Some of them had been in hospital ever since the war, knowing that their wounds or diseases would never heal or be cured, that they would die there away from their families and hometowns. Occasionally a new patient would be admitted - a soldier wounded in a battle with indians, or perhaps injured in an accident where they were stationed. That was how I met James Dolan."

Already discomfited, Loren fidgeted in his chair, then went back to reading.

******************
Jake handed Teresa a steaming cup of tea and asked anxiously, "You sure you're comfortable? You aint cold are ya? ... I can build up the fire ..."

She smiled and tenderly rubbed her swollen stomach. "I'm fine Jacob ... Come sit by me ... I want to finish this article about the new doctor ..." He collected his cup of coffee and sat down beside his wife.  She again picked up the newspaper and took up where she'd left off earlier.

"James was brought to the hospital in a critical condition. For no apparent reason, a gunpowder shack had exploded as he was walking past and he'd taken the full brunt of the blast. His legs were broken, as was his collarbone, but it was his chest and lungs that were the most severely injured. Several ribs were broken, puncturing a lung, and the dust and powder from the explosion had been inhaled and coated his lungs making it difficult for him to breath. His life hung in the balance at first, but at last he seemed to be making progress. His bones healed and so did the puncture, but the residue of powder and dust was severely damaging his lungs. It wasn't long before we knew they would never recover.

I spent a great amount of time with James during his illness, sitting by his bedside, monitoring his medication and so forth. You might think we'd have little in common, considering our backgrounds, but he told me his mother had insisted he be taught to read and write and we discovered a mutual love of literature both classic and modern, from Shakespeare to Whitman. We would talk for hours about a book we'd read, a newspaper article, politics, the state of the economy, etcetera. It didn't matter that we came from two very different worlds. The hospital was our world and we helped each other bear the pain and suffering we saw, and in James's case experienced, every day."

Teresa looked up from her reading, her eyes aglow and leant across to gently kiss her husband, before going back to the article.

********************
"He asleep?" asked Grace as she watched Robert E bend over little Michael's crib.

"Uh huh," he replied. "At last ... Seems he's always movin' around ... soon I won't be able ta keep up with him ..."

Grace chuckled. "We'll manage," she said indulgently. She patted the seat beside her invitingly. He smiled and crossed the room to her. He sat down and she once again picked up the newspaper and continued.

"James was a patient in that hospital for nearly a year before the administrators decided he was using a bed that could be best used by someone else. They suggested he find somewhere else to stay. While the damage to his lungs made it impossible for him to find work, he was able to move around, albeit with difficulty. I suppose compared to many other patients he didn't appear too unwell, when in truth, his lungs were deteriorating every day.

We searched for some time for somewhere for him to live, but his only alternative to the hospital was a poor house where he would not receive any medical attention. At last, I tentatively suggested he should stay with me and I could look after him. He was horrified. A black man, living in the same house as a single white woman! It was unheard of! I honestly don't remember who suggested marriage first. I knew I'd come to love him and he admitted he had the same feelings for me. We knew we'd be ostracised if we went ahead with the marriage, but we both felt strongly enough about it to go ahead anyway. I resigned my post at the hospital and we were married in a little church nearby.

We never discussed a future. We both knew there wouldn't be one for us. We had to live every day we had to the fullest because we both knew James's days were numbered. We never talked about it. We went about our life together, rarely mentioning his illness, despite my having to gradually increase his medication to allay his pain and ease his painful breathing. His lungs were deteriorating rapidly and soon our lives together would be over.

James passed away quietly in the summer of '67. He died in his sleep. A few weeks later I discovered I was expecting Jamie."

Grace sat back, lowered the newspaper to her lap and mopped at the tears rolling down her face. "Oh my," she sobbed. "What that woman went through ..."

Robert E wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close.   "Everyone has a story Grace," he murmured. "Only ya don't always get a chance ta hear it ..."

******************
Michaela lowered the newspaper and watched her husband divest himself of his shirt, then turn and smile at her. She instinctively smiled back and he came to the bed and slid in beside her. "Go on," he said quietly. "I wanna hear the rest."

She nodded, sidled a little closer to him and then continued reading. 

"I notified James's family in Kansas about my pregnancy and a few weeks later his sister Lucille arrived on my doorstep. At first I thought she disapproved of me, but she stayed with me until Jamie was born, then decided to stay on for a while longer. She's been with me ever since and I couldn't do without her.

Jamie is the love of my life. He has helped ease the pain of James's passing and given me so much. My only regret is that James never saw his beautiful son. Six months or so after his birth I realised that I would have to return to work to support my family and so, after many months of searching, I returned to the work I knew best, gaining a position at a War Veterans' Hospice. Again I was working with severely injured or ill soldiers. Every day reminded me of James and yet I didn't mind. I always felt as if he was beside me.

For obvious reasons, I kept Jamie's existence a secret from my colleagues and patients. I needed the position and knew I would lose it if they saw my son. The secrecy was abhorrent to me. I love my son so much and yet I couldn't talk about him or share his life with others.

When the administrators in their wisdom decided to close the War Veterans' Hospice I decided it was time to make some changes in my life. I determined to find a position and a life out west where my son's existence would no longer have to be kept a secret. I saw an advertisement for a position in a free clinic in San Francisco, asked Lucille to look after Jamie until I was settled, and boarded a train west. That same morning I bought a newspaper and saw Dr Quinn's advertisement for a doctor for Colorado Springs."

Michaela paused and sighed. "I do so hope she's found a home here Sully ... like me," she said. "If only she had a Byron Sully to help her through this ..."

"She's got us," he replied, gently caressing her arm.

She turned adoring eyes on him. "Its not the same you know," she murmured lovingly. "Not the same at all ..."

He edged up so he could kiss her tenderly. "Its gonna have ta do for now," he said softly. "Unless there's a fella out there we don' know about ..."

"I truly wish there was ... Perhaps Hank will be her knight in shining armour ..."

"Hank?!"

"Well he was the one who insisted you didn't have to stay in town ... that he'd keep an eye on her and the clinic ..."

"I suppose," conceded Sully dubiously.

"All I want for her is to be happy ... as happy as I am ..."

In response, Sully gently took the newspaper from her, folded it, then placed it on the nightstand. He turned on his side to face her. "There might not ever be someone else for her besides James," he said. "But ... if Jamie can be happy here ..."

"Then she'll be happy," she concluded. She reached out and lovingly traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips. "I love you," she whispered before claiming his mouth with her own.

******************
The last customer left the Gold Nugget saloon and Hank immediately leant down under the bar to retrieve his already dog-eared copy of today's Colorado Springs Gazette. He reread the article in silence. He couldn't believe what this woman had been through. He'd told Loren he should find out her story before passing judgment, but even he couldn't believe the true story. His eyes alighted on the final paragraph.

"I came to Colorado Springs to visit with Dr Quinn. My sister Mary, who passed away the same year as James, had studied with Dr Quinn and I remembered meeting her. I never expected her to offer me the position here. That was too much to hope for. When she did, I was both elated and fearful. Would the people of Colorado Springs accept me and my son? I was entirely truthful with Dr Quinn. I told her the whole story. She was adamant that with time my son and I would come to be accepted here as she has been. I know that there are several people in town concerned about me, but I ask that they give me a chance before deciding whether or not I am a worthy citizen. Like everyone, I am looking for happiness, for a place to belong, a place where I can bring up my son without stigma or retribution. I sincerely hope I have found that in Colorado Springs."

After the attack the other night, and Loren carrying on the way he'd been, Hank had worried that Anna might pack up and leave. She'd even told him yesterday she didn't want Stu Burns to go to trial. Now it looked like she wanted to stay, as long as the town council meeting went her way the next night. He'd come to a decision. For once he wasn't going to worry about what the other fellas thought. Tomorrow night he was going to speak in favour of Anna McLeod staying in town. She deserved a better life and he was going to make sure she got it.

********************
Jake banged his gavel on the tabletop and a hush descended on the gathering of townspeople crowded into the church. He turned to Loren. "You called this council meeting," he said sullenly. "So you better be the one ta speak first."

Loren nodded and stood to face the meeting. He was feeling inexplicably nervous. His eyes panned those in the room. There seemed to be an unusually large number of folks from Shantytown in attendance tonight. Also, Sully, young Brian, Matthew and Kathleen were in the front row alongside that black lady friend of Dr McLeod's. Behind them Grace was watching him intently, as were Teresa, Horace and Myra. He cast a glance to his left and right to see Dr Mike, Robert E, Jake and Hank all scowling up at him.

He nervously cleared his throat., then began, "Ah ... I called this meetin' tonight ... well ... because ... ah ... I was worried." The handkerchief in his hand was rapidly becoming a screwed up mess. "Ah ... I was worried about ... well .. ya see ... these new people comin ta town ... They're causin' some problems ... an' I figure ... well ..." He paused and took a deep breath. "I figure we're gonna have ta do somethin' about the school," he went on in a rush. "There just aint enough room ... an' its well ... its causin' problems for the students ... an' o' course Mrs Slicker's gonna need some help pretty soon ... I vote we do somethin' about it ..." To a stunned silence, he assumed a brave and somewhat relieved smile and sat down.

To be continued ....