Beloved Physician

by Al Lacy

  Breanna had also made a large bowl of freshly picked lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and radishes, mixed into a cool, inviting salad. A pink glass dish was piled high with warm applesauce, and bowls of pickled beets and green beans rounded off the meal.

  John stood at the head of the table and prayed over the food, asking the Lord to guide Dr. Dane’s hands when he performed the surgery on Nelda Cox.

  While they were eating, Melinda asked how long the Logans were going to stay in Denver. Dr. Dane replied that they were planning on heading back to Central City on Thursday. They would leave Nelda in Dr. Matt Carroll’s capable hands until she was feeling well enough to go home. Eric would be staying until that time also.

  Dr. Dane continued, “When Dr. Carroll wires me that Nelda can travel, I’ll come back over and pick up her and Eric. I’ll probably be alone, since Tharyn will need to stay at the office.”

  Dr. Tim set his coffee cup in its saucer and looked at Dr. Dane.

  “Tell you what. I’m pretty sure I can talk Dr. Carroll into giving me a couple days off if I tell him I want to drive Mr. and Mrs. Cox back home. I’d like to do this for you, Dr. Dane, so you can carry on your work in and around Central City without interruption. I know you’re awfully busy. Yes, I also know that Dr. Fraser fills in for you when you’re gone, but I’m sure you would like to stay there and do your own work.”

  Dr. Dane swallowed a mouthful of chicken pot pie. “It really would help me if you could do this, Dr. Tim. Could Melinda come with you?”

  “I sure can!” Melinda said.

  “Oh, wonderful!” exclaimed Tharyn. “I would love for you to see our house.”

  “Well, that settles it,” said Dr. Tim. “I’ll talk to Dr. Carroll about it in the morning, and then we’ll know. I am quite sure he will go along with it.”

  There was a moment of silence while everyone was enjoying the meal; then Dr. Dane looked at the chief U.S. marshal. “Oh, John, there’s something I want to tell you.”

  “Mm-hmm?”

  “Jake Merrell sends his greetings to you and your family. I need to tell you what he did.”

  Everyone listened intently as Dr. Dane told John Brockman of his former deputy having to draw against Waco Belton and how he took him out.

  John smiled. “I know about this guy Belton. He recently forced two lawmen up in Wyoming who used to be my deputies to draw against him and killed them. One in Laramie and the other in Rock Springs. Jake was one of the best deputy U.S. marshals I ever had. It doesn’t surprise me that Jake outdrew Belton.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Late in the afternoon on the same day Dr. Dane and Tharyn Logan had arrived in Denver, Cassandra Wheatley was in her room, preparing herself for dinner with Greg Holton and his father.

  She had washed her luxuriant black hair earlier in the afternoon and now stood before her dresser mirror in her white petticoat, brushing it carefully while continually adjusting herself so she could see the sides and back in the mirror. It was a shining cascade of curls falling down her back, almost to her waist.

  She smiled at her reflection. “Yes! Greg will like this style.”

  It was now time to put on the dress she had chosen for the occasion. Not wanting to appear too formal, yet limited by the number of dresses to choose from, she had selected a pale yellow dress printed with light green leaves. It had a high neck with a round white collar and elbow-length sleeves that were also trimmed in white.

  She picked up the dress from the bed where she had laid it out, slipped into it, and buttoned it up. When her eye caught the yellow ribbon that still lay on the bed, she wondered if she should put it in her hair as she had at other times when wearing the dress, or leave it as it was.

  “Lets try it,” she said, picking up the ribbon and moving to the dresser mirror.

  She wrapped the yellow ribbon around her hair just behind her head, pulled the hair back from each side, and tied the ribbon in a bow.

  She studied herself for a moment. “Yes! Greg will like this style even better.”

  She sat down on the bed, put on her black shoes with the straps over her insteps, moved across the room and examined herself in the full-length mirror that hung on the backside of the door.

  A sly smile formed on her lips. “Mm-hmm! This will do nicely. Not too showy but still eye-catching. I must remember to mind my Ps and Qs. I want Greg’s dad to like me. That will be to my benefit in my scheme of things.”

  Taking one last look in the dresser mirror, she was pleased with the reflection staring back at her. Cassandra gave her image a wink and walked out the door.

  Mabel Downing was busy in the kitchen, preparing supper for herself when she saw her niece come in. She looked the girl up and down. “Well, you look mighty spiffy, Miss Wheatley!”

  Cassandra spun all the way around. “Do you think Greg will like the way I look, Auntie?”

  “If he doesn’t, it’ll be because he’s gone blind.”

  The brunette giggled. She started to say something else when there was a knock at the front door.

  Cassandra glanced at the kitchen clock. “Oh my! It is almost six-thirty! That has to be Greg.”

  At the Kirby Holton mansion, Cassandra thoroughly enjoyed Edith Linden’s meal while getting acquainted with Greg’s father, whom she felt was as handsome and charming as his son. She was fascinated by the expensive china and eating utensils that were used by the Holtons.

  Greg had seated himself beside Cassandra, and all during the meal he kept looking at her. It seemed to him that she became more beautiful every day.

  When the three of them were finishing the dessert that Edith had prepared, Kirby looked at Cassandra and smiled. “Well, little lady, Greg and I promised you a tour of the house. You ready?”

  Cassandra swallowed her last bite of apple pie. “Yes, sir. I sure am!”

  Leaving the spacious dining room, Kirby and Greg guided Cassandra on her own private tour of the mansion. They started by taking her up the elegant winding staircase to the second floor. As they passed from one beautifully furnished room to another, Cassandra’s mouth hung open at times as she took in the luxury all around her.

  Never had she seen such tapestries, carpets, furniture, and decorations. She was amazed at the exquisite paintings that hung on the walls both upstairs and downstairs. The whole tour had Cassandra almost speechless with pleasure. She told herself she could get used to living in a place like this real fast, but she was careful in expressing herself to Kirby and Greg. She did not want to go overboard with her praise of the place. She knew she must show a great deal of decorum so as not to be pushy in Greg’s eyes. Good manners were very important, and she wanted both father and son to be pleased with her comportment.

  However, on the inside, her heart was quaking with joy. Just imagine, she thought, one day this kind of luxury will be mine. I’m sure it won’t be long before Greg proposes to me, and I’m more than ready with my answer. “Yes!”

  Later that evening, as Greg was walking Cassandra back to the Downing home in the glow of the street lamps, she looked up at him and said softly, “Greg, darling, I have fallen more in love with you tonight.”

  Greg stopped and squeezed her hand gently. “Cassandra, my sweet, I’m falling deeper in love with you every minute.”

  The sound of his voice and the words that came from him played through her like a warm breeze. Her graceful chin tilted upward as she looked deep into his eyes. Fragrance rose from her hair and somehow the soft curves of her throat sent the same kind of warmth through his veins. He lowered his face toward hers and kissed her.

  They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment; then Greg took her hand again and proceeded along the street.

  Greg glanced down at her. “Well, I could sure tell that Dad likes you.”

  “He seemed to. And I’m glad.”

  Cassandra was wishing Greg would bring up marriage, but she knew she would just have to wait until he was ready to do so. Then and there, she secretly made plans to
turn on more charm and do her best to make him want to propose.

  Soon they reached the Downing house. Greg walked Cassandra up onto the porch, and looked into her eyes by the yellow glow of the lanterns shining from inside the parlor window. “Cassandra, darling, I love you with all of my heart.”

  This thrilled her. She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him tenderly. “And I love you with all of my heart.”

  Later, when Cassandra was lying in her bed in the darkness, she looked at the starry sky through the window and whispered, “Cassandra, dear, you’ve got that rich young man wrapped around your little finger. I just know it won’t be very long until he will put a golden ring on your finger in a wedding ceremony. You’ll be married to a multimillionaire. Greg will build you a mansion like his father’s and decorate it and furnish it like his father’s too. Oh, Cassandra … you’re going to be one rich woman!”

  In the foothills of the Rocky Mountains some ten miles southwest of Denver early on Tuesday morning July 19, Chief Tando led his mounted band of twenty warriors across the South Platte River into a dense forest. Soon they were approaching the spot where Arapaho Chief Red Arrow had agreed to meet when Tando had sent a messenger to him a few days previously.

  Dark clouds were gathering in the sky and the air smelled like rain.

  Riding on one side of Chief Tando was his son, Latawga. On his other side was one of his subchiefs, Nandano.

  Soon, Tando spotted the band of Arapaho Indians and their horses in a small clearing just ahead. There were twelve braves flanking Red Arrow, who set his dark gaze on the approaching riders, then stepped forward and made the Indian sign for welcome to the Utes.

  The Utes dismounted, and after the chiefs had greeted one another, they sat down on a fallen tree to talk. Latawga and Nandano stood very close to where the chiefs were sitting, as did two of Red Arrow’s men. The other Utes and Arapahoes collected within earshot of where the chiefs were sitting. They greeted each other, talked for a moment about the rain that no doubt was coming, then put their attention on the chiefs.

  Red Arrow, who was some twenty years older than Tando, looked at him with his dark, shaggy-browed eyes. Since neither chief spoke the other’s language, but both spoke English, Red Arrow asked in English, “What is it Tando wishes to speak to Red Arrow about?”

  Tando’s dark features were wooden as he looked Red Arrow in the eye. “Tando would like for Red Arrow and his people to join forces and work together to shed white men’s blood and make them pay for invading Indian land.”

  Red Arrow shook his head slowly. “Red Arrow cannot lead his people to do this. There is no reason to continue making war against the whites. They are building more forts and bringing troops in great numbers from back East. To continue fighting them would only result in more Indians being killed.”

  Sitting like a carved figure, Tando pulled his lips back, flared his nostrils, and scowled. “Tando does not like to hear this kind of talk.”

  Red Arrow made his own scowl. “Need I remind you that Chief Ouray, your tribe’s official spokesman, has called upon all Utes to cease making war against the white men, and to make peace with them instead?”

  The storm signals were up in Tando as the braves of both tribes looked on. His anger showed in the down-angled lines of his mouth and in the steely way he looked at Red Arrow.

  The Arapaho chief felt the daggers in Tando’s eyes. “Red Arrow agrees with Chief Ouray, and I feel that Chief Tando and his people will live longer and be happier if they face the fact that they are vastly outnumbered by the white man’s army and make peace with them.”

  Tando’s countenance was becoming as cloudy black as the sky overhead. The wind was picking up and fluffing the feathers of his wolf’s headdress.

  Red Arrow went on. “Chief Tando must understand that the entire Arapaho tribe no longer has any renegade leaders who want to make war against the white men. The Arapaho all want to live in peace.”

  The disgust Tando felt rippled his flushed cheeks. “White men must pay for what they have done to Indians!”

  “It is fact, Chief Tando. Even if Red Arrow would join Chief Tando in killing whites, it would only bring the soldier coats with their Gatling guns and repeater rifles. In a short time, they would wipe out the renegades. Red Arrow chooses to live in peace with the whites. I am leading my people in this way.”

  Tando pictured himself whipping out the knife he wore on his waist and driving it into Red Arrow’s heart. But he maintained his self-control, drawing a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, he rose to his feet and set icy eyes on Red Arrow as the Arapaho chief also stood up. “It is Red Arrow’s choice to live in peace with the whites who have come and stolen Indian land, but it is Tando’s choice to make them pay for what they have done!”

  With that, Chief Tando turned toward his men, who were fully aware that he was very angry. “Mount up! We go!”

  Under the stern eyes of Red Arrow and his braves, the Utes mounted their horses, and without another word to the Arapaho chief, Tando led his men as they trotted into the forest.

  While moving among the trees, Latawga, Nandano, and the other eighteen warriors thought they could almost see smoke coming from Chief Tando’s ears. His entire body shook with wrath.

  Riding beside his father, Latawga looked at him and said with a shaky voice, “We will still make war with the white men, my father. They will pay.”

  Tando set his fiery eyes on him. “My son must allow his father’s blood to cool. Then we talk.”

  At the Kenyon place—not far from the forest where the angry Chief Tando was riding with his warriors—George, Hattie, and Melinda sat down at the breakfast table. Outside, the wind was blowing steadily and unrelentingly across a heavily clouded sky.

  George led them in prayer as they thanked the Lord for the food. As they began eating, George glanced out the kitchen window. “Tell you what, ladies, it looks like I might get wet while riding into town to work this morning.”

  Hattie nodded. “It really does look like it’s going to rain. You need to take your slicker along, that’s for sure.”

  “I will,” said George, then looked across the table at his daughter. “Melinda, I know you and Abe have a date every morning except Sunday to take a good ride right after breakfast. With those clouds hanging low like they are, it would be best that you don’t go riding today. Or at least till it clears up.”

  “Daddy, I’m planning to spend some time with Tharyn today,” said Melinda. “She will be at the hospital with her husband this morning to be with the lady they are going to operate on tomorrow morning. The lady’s name is Nelda Cox. Dr. Dane and Tharyn led Mrs. Cox and her husband to the Lord a week ago today, so they not only want to be with both of them this morning to talk about tomorrow’s hip replacement, but also to pray with them and read the Scripture with them.”

  Hattie smiled. “That’s wonderful, Melinda. Dr. Dane and Tharyn are such precious people. They must be having a marvelous time with their practice in Central City.”

  “They sure are, Mama. From what Tharyn has been telling me in her letters, the practice is growing by leaps and bounds. People are traveling greater distances than ever to be treated by Dr. Dane.”

  George shook his head in wonderment. “The Logans indeed are amazing people. It’s great to see God blessing them like He is.”

  “For sure, Daddy. It’s such a blessing to see that young man I first met in the alley in New York City realizing his dream. His greatest desire way back then was to become a doctor.”

  Hattie set her gaze on Melinda. “So you and Tharyn have set a time to be together today?”

  “Well, sort of. She and Dr. Dane will be back at the Brockman place this afternoon. We didn’t set an exact time, but Tharyn is expecting me to show up sometime in early afternoon.”

  Melinda looked out the window again. “Daddy, I really want to get my ride in. I already have my riding skirt and boots on. You know that sometimes when the sky looks like it does at this mom
ent, it will be hours before it actually starts to rain. I’ll take my ride immediately after I help Mama do the dishes and clean up the kitchen. I sure don’t want to disappoint Abe. He knows it’s not Sunday.”

  George snickered and shook his head. “You are really quite the horsewoman. Okay, okay, I give in. I sure wouldn’t want Abe to be disappointed. But you take your slicker along just in case it should start raining before you and Abe get back.”

  Melinda scooted her chair back and stood up. She moved to her father, bent down, and kissed his cheek. “I’ll do that, Daddy. And I’ll not ride as far as usual. I’ll just ride to the river and back.”

  “All right, honey. I hope Abe doesn’t object to your shortening your time with him today.”

  Melinda laughed and kissed her father’s cheek again.

  When breakfast was over, George went to the barn and saddled his horse. He took another few minutes to saddle Abe, then noting that it was not yet raining, he led both horses to the front porch of the house.

  Hattie and Melinda came out the door, and Melinda said with a smile, “Thank you for saddling Abe for me, Daddy.”

  “My pleasure,” he said as he tied Abe’s reins to one of the hitching posts.

  He then kissed his wife and daughter and mounted up. With the wind plucking at his wide-brimmed hat and the sky growing darker overhead, he rode toward Denver for his day’s work at Denning Hardware.

  Hattie and Melinda returned to the kitchen and began cleaning up and doing the dishes.

  Rain had still not started to fall from the sky when the breakfast chores were done, but the wind was blowing harder. Hattie followed her daughter to the closet at the front of the house and watched as she put on her denim jacket and her bright yellow bonnet. She took her black slicker off its hook in the closet and closed the closet door. “Okay, Mama. I’m off.”

  They stepped out on to the front porch and Hattie followed as Melinda moved down the steps with the wind plucking at her bonnet and her long blond hair.