Beloved Physician

by Al Lacy

  Rosemary came out of the dressing room in the seventh dress she had tried on, which was light green cotton with white daisies that had yellow centers. It had white pique trim around a square neck, elbow-length sleeves, and a full sweeping skirt. She found Cassandra holding a yellow dress up to herself in front of a floor-length mirror.

  Rosemary smiled. “Hey, honey, that dress really goes with your black hair.”

  The beautiful brunette smiled back, got a dreamy look in her eyes, and said in a silky voice, “Greg would like me in this one, don’t you think?”

  Rosemary chuckled. “Actually, I think Greg would even like you in a burlap sack, but yes, I’m sure if he saw you in that dress, it would take his breath away.”

  Cassandra giggled. “You really think so?”

  “I don’t think so. I know so. I’ve watched the love light glow in his eyes when he looks at you. And the same kind of light also glows in your eyes when you look at him.”

  “Oh, it does, does it?”

  “Mm-hmm. I think my friend Miss Cassandra Wheatley is falling in love with Mr. Greg Holton, and it sure appears that Mr. Greg Holton is falling in love with Miss Cassandra Wheatley.”

  A bright smile spread over the brunette’s face, reaching from ear to ear.

  Suddenly there was a deep rumbling sound from somewhere outside.

  Cassandra’s eyes widened. “Th-that c-can’t be thunder, can it? The sky was clear when we came in here.”

  “No, honey. It isn’t thunder. What you heard came from the Holton Coal Mine. Periodically, they set off dynamite sticks down in the mine to open up new sections where they can dig more coal.”

  “Hmm. That’s interesting. I do recall that I heard somewhere once that they use dynamite in gold mines to do that. Guess they have to do it the same way with coal.”

  “That’s right. Well, I’m going to buy this dress, Cassandra. I’ll change back into my old dress, buy this one, and we’ll be going.”

  At the same time Rosemary and Cassandra were in Wortman’s, Marshal Jake Merrell was walking along Main Street, keeping an eye on the business district, when he saw Dr. Dane Logan coming down the street in his buggy.

  Merrell was almost in front of the doctor’s office as Dr. Dane swung the buggy to the hitch rail. “Hello, Marshal!”

  “Howdy, Doc.”

  Dr. Dane hopped out of the buggy and chuckled when Pal whinnied. “Okay, Pal, you can rest a while now.”

  The bay gelding blew and bobbed his head.

  The marshal laughed. “You know, Doc, sometimes I think this horse of yours knows every word in the English language.”

  “I’ve thought the same thing. You walking the beat by yourself?”

  “Mm-hmm. I sent my esteemed deputy out of town to deliver a court summons.”

  “I see. Len seems like a good lawman.”

  “That he is. Lens daddy, George Kurtz, was marshal of Raton, New Mexico, until he was killed in a gun battle about fifteen years ago with outlaws who had held up one of the town’s banks.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know about that.”

  “Len had already announced that he was going to be a lawman like his father when he was six years old. He was only eight when his father was killed, but he stuck to his goal, and I think he’s better than the average lawman his age because of what happened to his father. He’s sensible about it, but he has a special grudge against outlaws. I’m quite pleased to have him as my deputy.”

  Dr. Dane grinned. “That’s obvious. The two of you make a great team.”

  “Thank you.”

  Both men smiled and nodded at people who were passing by on the boardwalk.

  Dr. Dane said, “It helps, both of you being Christians, doesn’t it?”

  “Sure does. And speaking of great teams, you and Tharyn make a great team, too.”

  Dr. Dane grinned again. “I thank the Lord every day for giving her to me.”

  “You’re staying pretty busy in your practice, aren’t you? I’m noticing a greater number of people going and coming from your office all the time.”

  “Yes, I’m staying quite busy. And that’s the way I like it.”

  “You’re still doing a lot of hip replacements, I understand.”

  “Yes. About 80 percent of the time I’m out of town, it’s to do another hip replacement either at Mile High Hospital in Denver or some other town that has a hospital.”

  “Any chance that Central City will have a hospital someday?”

  “Well, maybe someday. It’ll have to at least double in size before that can happen, but I’m already thinking about trying to buy one of the vacant lots on Main Street here in the business district and putting up a building large enough to have a clinic with some beds so we can keep patients here instead of having to transport them to the hospital in Denver. It would depend on just what was wrong with them, but I’d say about half the patients we take to Denver could stay right here if we had the proper facilities for certain kinds of surgery and other medical treatment.”

  “That would be great, Doc. I hope you’re able to do it soon.”

  “Me, too. And speaking of hip replacements, Tharyn and I will be taking Eric and Nelda Cox to Denver on Monday so I can perform a hip replacement on Nelda.”

  “I’d heard that was going to happen. I just didn’t know when.”

  Suddenly a sharp male voice from behind the marshal cut the air. “Hey! Jake Merrell!”

  The marshal turned around and Dr. Dane followed his line of sight to see a man in his late twenties standing in the street some forty feet away, just off the boardwalk. He was in a gunfighter’s stance with his right hand hovering over the gun in his holster. There was a dangerous glitter in his narrowed eyes and a wicked sneer on his face. “I’m challengin’ you, Merrell! Go for your gun!”

  People on the boardwalk looked on, eyes wide.

  Dr. Dane observed the scene with his heart pounding as Jake Merrell stepped off the boardwalk, his hands dangling at his sides.

  Merrell fixed the stranger with a steady gaze. “Do you see this badge on my chest, mister whoever-you-are? You’re challenging a lawman.”

  More townspeople were appearing on the boardwalk and on the street, coming out of stores and shops. When they realized what was happening, they moved closer to the scene, whispering among themselves.

  Noting the gathering crowd, the challenger snapped loudly, “I know you’re a lawman, Merrell! My name’s Waco Belton.” He ran his gaze to the gathering crowd. “You hear that, everybody? I’m Waco Belton! You’ll have good reason to remember my name after I show this tin star what a real fast draw is!”

  A man in the crowd shouted, “Do you know who you’re challenging, Belton? Marshal Jake Merrell is known for his fast gun!”

  Without taking his eyes off the marshal, Belton muttered brazenly, “Yeah, I know who I’m challengin’. And I know about his reputation for bein’ fast on the draw. Your marshal used to be one of Chief U.S. Marshal John Brockman’s deputies over in Denver.”

  Dr. Dane’s mouth fell open. He had not been aware of this. He was wishing for a way to stop the impending bloodshed, but knew he was helpless to do so. At that instant, he saw Tharyn come out of the office with a female patient she had just taken care of. Their eyes locked, and he motioned for her to stay right where she was. She nodded her agreement.

  Merrell pinned Belton with arctic eyes. “So I used to be a deputy U.S. marshal. Why does that make you want to challenge me?”

  Belton sneered and his hand eased down closer to the handle of his revolver. “I know Brockman taught you the fast draw, Merrell. I’m workin’ my way up to challengin Brockman, but I wanna do it slowlike. In the past week, I challenged and killed two of Brockman’s former deputies in Wyomin’. One in Laramie and one in Rock Springs.” His lips whipped back in an evil grin, showing his crooked teeth. “I decided you’re next.”

  Anger was rising red in Merrell’s face. “You’re under arrest, Belton! It’s against the law to challen
ge an officer of the law to a shootout. Move your hands down slowly, unbuckle that gun belt, let it drop to the ground, and lift your hands above your head. Don’t make me have to draw my gun. Just do as I tell you.”

  Belton laughed. “I won’t do it! You’re gonna draw against me, Merrell. I’m gonna outdraw you, and I’m gonna kill you!”

  Tension on the street grew tighter.

  Merrell’s gun hand lowered closer to the handle of his holstered Colt .45 Peacemaker. “I don’t want to shed your blood, Belton. Do as I told you and you’ll only spend a year or so in jail for defying the law and challenging me. Like I said, you’re under arrest. If you resist, you’ll suffer the consequences.”

  The gunfighter guffawed. “Tryin’ to scare me won’t work, Merrell. You’re gonna draw against me right now.”

  “Belton!” rasped the marshal. “You can’t outdraw me. Do as I tell you! I’m giving you one last chance to drop that gun belt!”

  Waco Belton set his jaw and leered menacingly at the lawman. “You ain’t in control, here, Marshal.”

  Merrell’s face crimsoned. “You’re about to find out who’s in control.”

  Belton grinned menacingly. “No, you are.” Keeping his eyes on Merrell, he threw the thumb of his left hand over his shoulder. “Maybe you’d better take a look down there in front of Wortman’s clothin’ store.”

  Merrell’s line of sight quickly focused on Cassandra Wheatley down the boardwalk, who was being held by another stranger, with the muzzle of his revolver pressed against her temple. Her neck was locked in the crook of his free arm. Merrell could tell she was terrified.

  The crowd stood in shock as they beheld the sight.

  Rosemary Snyder was leaning against the wall of the store, her face devoid of color.

  Cassandra’s eyes were widened and filled with fear. There was a circle of white around her mouth and two blotches of white on her cheeks. She stood perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe, fearful that the man holding the gun to her head would kill her if the marshal didn’t take Waco Belton’s challenge and draw against him.

  Cassandra looked at Rosemary, who leaned weakly against the storefront for support, her hand covering her mouth.

  Cassandra drew a shaky breath. “P-please, Rosemary. Help m-me.”

  “Ain’t nobody gonna help you, girlie,” said the man who had her in his grasp, “unless that there marshal meets Waco’s challenge.”

  Cassandra’s heart was pounding so hard, she was sure it would soon burst through her rib cage. She had thought nothing exciting would ever happen in quiet Central City. And now that it was indeed happening, she certainly never expected to be in the middle of it. It had seemed like an ordinary peaceful Saturday only moments before, and now it was almost certain that someone was going to die. Just don’t let it be me!

  No one had noticed Greg Holton, who had been on his way into town in one of the mine’s wagons. He had seen the crowd gathered on the boardwalk and in the street, then caught sight of Cassandra in the gunman’s grip and heard the man who identified himself as Waco Belton challenging Marshal Jake Merrell to a shootout.

  Greg had stopped the wagon on the side of the street, picked up a crowbar from the wagon bed, and was now moving up behind the man who was holding Cassandra.

  Unaware of what was taking place behind her, Cassandra watched Marshal Jake Merrell run his gaze toward her as had been suggested by Waco Belton.

  A wicked smile curved his lips as Waco Belton saw the marshal taking in the scene in front of Wortman’s clothing store. Belton’s gun hand hovered eagerly over his revolver. “Looks like we’ve got us a Mexican standoff here, Merrell. My pal will put a bullet in that girl’s head if you don’t draw on me. If you’ll do as I say and draw on me in front of all these nice people, I promise you, the girl will not be harmed.”

  The marshal was bracing himself for what he must do, when he caught sight of Greg Holton with a crowbar in his hand, easing stealthily up behind the man who was holding his gun to Cassandra’s head.

  Since Belton was facing the marshal, he did not see Greg Holton.

  As he was silently moving up behind the man who had Cassandra in his grasp, Greg noted that the hammer of the man’s gun was not cocked. This would make things easier.

  Still unaware of what was taking place behind her, Cassandra jerked when she heard the sudden sound of the crowbar savagely striking her captor’s head. Instantly, the man’s hold on her slackened; then his arm fell away. His gun clattered on the wooden floor. She was aware of a loud thump on the boardwalk behind her.

  She spun around and saw the man motionless on the wooden floor. Suddenly, she was aware of Greg standing there with the crowbar in his hand, grinning at her.

  Eyes wide with surprise, Cassandra threw herself into Greg’s arms, releasing a wail of relief. Greg grabbed her tightly, realizing her knees were giving way. She slumped into the safety of his arms, but the trauma was too much for her. She fainted.

  Down on the street, Waco Belton heard the feminine wail of relief and gripped his gun handle as he looked over his shoulder and saw his accomplice lying on the boardwalk and the girl in the young man’s arms.

  Everybody in the crowd knew blood was about to be spilled. They began edging their way toward the walls of the stores and shops.

  Wrath swept through Waco Belton like lava flowing from an erupting volcano and brought stinging blood into his cheeks. Still gripping his gun, he turned back to face Merrell, drawing as he turned.

  Merrell saw it and his gun came out of its holster with lightning speed.

  Thunder from the Colt .45 Peacemaker rocked the street, and in ear-stabbing reverberations, racketed through the town.

  Waco Belton’s eyes bulged in unbelief as he dropped his gun and staggered backward a few steps, throwing both hands to the wound where the .45 slug had plowed into his chest. His face seemed to pull apart as his eyes glazed. With a strangling sound, he fell flat on his back.

  Dr. Dane Logan moved up beside the marshal. “I think he’s dead, Jake.”

  “Lets see.”

  The crowd looked on wide-eyed and silent as the marshal and the doctor knelt down beside Waco Belton. There was no rise and fall of his chest and no part of his body was moving.

  Dr. Dane placed experienced fingers to the side of Belton’s neck and shook his head. “He’s dead.”

  Merrell nodded solemnly. “I tried to keep from killing him, Doc. He flat wouldn’t let me.”

  “Anybody could see that,” said Dr. Dane, rising to his feet. “I’d better see to Cassandra and the accomplice. Greg hit him pretty hard. But he had it coming.”

  “I’ll be with you in a minute. Manfred Wiggins is in the crowd. I’ll turn Belton’s body over to him. If the other guy is dead too, he’ll have two to bury.”

  Dr. Dane hurried to the spot on the boardwalk where Greg was sitting on a bench, holding the unconscious Cassandra cradled in his arms while Tharyn was bending over her with Rosemary at her side. Others were standing around, looking down at Cassandra.

  Tharyn looked up at her husband. “She’ll come to in a minute, I’m sure.”

  Dane smiled at his wife. “Thanks for seeing to her.” He laid a palm on Cassandra’s cheek, raised an eyelid, and examined the eye. “You’re right, honey. She’ll come around shortly.”

  The doctor then looked to the spot where Waco Belton’s accomplice lay facedown on the boardwalk. Two townsmen were standing over him. One of them held the accomplice’s gun in his hand. The other one said, “He took a pretty good whack on the head by Greg, Doctor. He’s bleeding some, but he’s still breathing.”

  Dr. Dane knelt beside the unconscious man, examined the bloody gash on the back of his head, and looked at Greg. “You really did whack him a good one.”

  Cassandra was stirring now.

  Greg met the doctor’s gaze and nodded. “I wanted to make sure I eliminated him as a threat.”

  Dr. Dane grinned. “You did that, all right.”

 
On the street, Marshal Jake Merrell motioned to undertaker Manfred Wiggins, who was in the forefront of the crowd. Wiggins hurried to him.

  “Manfred,” said the marshal, “take Belton’s body and bury it. The town will pick up the bill. This other guy who was with him may be dead, too. If he is, the town will also pick up the bill on him.”

  The undertaker nodded. “Be back in a few minutes, Marshal.” He stepped up to a man in the crowd and asked him for help in carrying the body to the undertaking parlor.

  Merrell watched them carrying the body away, then hurried toward the boardwalk where Dr. Dane had gone to see about Cassandra and Belton’s accomplice. While he was threading his way through the crowd, people were shouting their congratulations to him for the way he took out Waco Belton.

  The marshal drew up to the boardwalk in front of Wortman’s clothing store to hear Greg Holton saying that Cassandra had fainted just before Marshal Merrell gunned down Waco Belton.

  At that moment, Cassandra began moaning in Greg’s arms and rolling her head back and forth.

  Greg looked up at the doctor and nurse. “She’s waking up.”

  Dr. Dane and Tharyn both smiled as they looked at her.

  Tharyn began rubbing Cassandra’s hands with her own as Dr. Dane stood over them looking on. She smiled at Greg. “You’d better prepare yourself. Since you saved this girl’s life, she’s going to look at you as her hero.”

  Greg grinned. “I can handle it, Mrs. Logan.”

  Tharyn winked at Rosemary, then looked back at Greg. “I think you probably can,”

  Cassandra was moaning and rolling her head back and forth.

  Greg said, “Cassandra, it’s okay. You’re safe now. Come on. Open your eyes. Dr. and Mrs. Logan are here. No one is going to hurt you.”

  Ever so slowly, Cassandra opened her eyes, blinking rapidly at the brightness of the early afternoon sun. Licking her dry lips, she tried to speak, but the words came out in a croak. She swallowed and tried once more, but could only make a gasping sound. Her eyes went shut again.