by Al Lacy
The charging horses and wagon slammed into Tharyn’s parents and her aunt, leaving them in a battered, bloody heap, and headed on down the street.
Dr. Dane found himself gripping the reins so hard, pain was lancing through his fingers. He took a deep breath, relaxed his grip on the reins, and let the breath out slowly.
He thought of how Tharyn’s father and aunt were killed instantly, and recalled how Erline lived a short time in a nearby hospital, then died.
Since Tharyn had no other relatives, she had no home. Dane took her to the alley where he and the small colony of orphans lived, and she became a part of the colony. Over and over, she thanked Dane for risking his own life to save hers, and in a short time, they became very close. They called each other big brother and little sister.
A ranch wagon was coming toward Dane on the road, and when the two vehicles came close, the rancher and his wife raised hands of greeting to him. Dane smiled and waved at them.
When the vehicles had met and passed each other, Dane put his mind back on Tharyn and relived the day he had the joy of seeing the sweet girl open her heart to Jesus as a result of his witnessing to her, and thought of how this drew them even closer to each other.
The buggy hit a bump and bounced Dane on the seat. He righted himself, and at the same time his mind went to that horrible day when police officers James Thornton and Fred Collins, whom he knew well, turned into the alley off the sidewalk and headed toward the group of orphans, their eyes fixed on him and their faces grim.
As the buggy maintained its course toward Cheyenne, Dane felt as if his stomach were pulled back harshly against his spine. He shuddered as he relived the nightmare of being arrested for stabbing an eleven-year-old boy named Benny Jackson to death in a nearby alley. Several people had observed the incident, and when they gave Officers Thornton and Collins the description of the teenage killer, it fit Dane perfectly. Dane’s protests that he was innocent fell on deaf ears.
His thoughts then raced to the day when he stood before the judge in the courtroom after the eyewitnesses to the murder had sworn under oath that he was the one they saw kill Benny Jackson.
Bouncing on the buggy seat with the horrid memory burning into his brain, Dane’s throat constricted as he relived the ghastly moment when the jury pronounced him guilty and the judge sentenced him to life in Manhattan’s city prison.
Next in his recollection were the times that Tharyn came to the prison to visit him. On the heels of these memories came the reminiscence of the last time he ever saw her.
Led by a guard to the prison’s visiting room, Dane looked at the pretty thirteen-year-old girl through the barred window, and he could tell by the look on her face that something was bothering her.
Tears filled Tharyn’s eyes as she told him about the entire colony being picked up by Charles Loring Brace, the director of the Children’s Aid Society, and taken to the Society’s headquarters. She explained that they were all going to be put on an orphan train in a few days and be taken out West so they could find families who would take them in as foster children.
What was bothering her was her fear that she would never see Dane again. Not in this life.
Dane recalled reaching through the bars and taking hold of Tharyn’s trembling hands. His voice quivered as he told her how glad he was that she and the other orphans in the colony were off the streets and had food and shelter. He was also glad that she and the others were going to have homes out West.
Dr. Dane’s eyes misted with tears as he recalled telling Tharyn the Lord knew he was innocent, and one day would see that he was cleared of the crime and was freed from the prison. He then told Tharyn that he would want to come to wherever she had found a home in the West and see her. He asked if she would write to him there in the prison and let him know where she ended up. That way they could stay in touch by mail, and when the Lord saw to it that he was cleared of the crime and released from prison, they could see each other again.
Tharyn’s voice echoed through Dane’s mind as he held the buggy’s reins. She said she would write him when she got settled in whatever new home she was taken into out West. And then, she said there was something else she wanted to tell him. He recalls how thrilled he was when she told him that because of his love for the field of medicine, it had rubbed off on her. She wanted to become a nurse. He encouraged her to pursue her dream.
When it was time for Tharyn to leave, the good-bye was a very emotional one, and they agreed that if they never saw each other again on earth, they knew they would meet in heaven.
Tears were in Dane’s eyes as he guided the buggy closer to Cheyenne. The uneven rooftops of the town were now outlined against the distant sky.
His thoughts went to Charles Loring Brace, who visited him occasionally at the prison, believing that he indeed was innocent, and that one day God would see that he was cleared of the crime and released from prison.
Dane then happily thought of the day when the teenage boy named Monte Smalz—who strongly resembled him and had murdered Benny Jackson—was caught by the police. When Dane was released from the prison, he immediately went to the Children’s Aid Society, and in a matter of weeks, was put on the orphan train that eventually took him through Chicago. There he met Dr. and Mrs. Jacob Logan, who took him home to Cheyenne with them and adopted him.
Tears filled Dane’s eyes as the buggy drew near Cheyenne. “Thank you, Lord,” he said with a quavering voice. “Thank You for bringing me to Cheyenne almost ten years ago and for letting me realize my dream of becoming a doctor.”
As Dr. Dane Logan was pulling into Cheyenne on Main Street, his thoughts went to Tharyn Myers once more. There was an ache in his heart. “Little sis, where did you end up? I never received a letter from you. There may have been some good reason why you didn’t write me like you promised, but I sure wish I knew where you are.”
Dane thought about the fact that not one day had passed since the last time he saw Tharyn over nine years ago, that she hadn’t come to mind. He wondered again if she ever became a nurse, and if she had married by now.
He swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat. “Lord, You know the status of her life, and where she is. Please take care of her, wherever that might be.”
At that moment, Dane was passing Memorial Hospital. Two nurses were coming out the lobby door. They spotted him and waved. He waved back. “Hello, ladies! Is it time to change shifts already?”
“It sure is, Doctor,” called one of them. “Time to go home and get supper started pretty soon so we can have the food on the tables when our hungry husbands come home from work.”
“Tell them hello for me, will you?”
“Sure will, Doctor,” said one of them, and the other one nodded.
Dr. Dane was within two blocks of the office when he noticed a group of people gathered in the street in front of the Lone Pine Saloon, forming a circle around two angry men. The pair was facing each other in the center of the circle, shouting loudly. One of them was much larger than the other. Dane recognized the smaller man. He had done surgery on Ernie Piper several months ago at Memorial Hospital to remove a tumor from behind his right ear. Ernie was known for spending an hour or so almost every day at the saloon, and Dr. Dane had warned him about the dangers of drinking.
As the angry men spat out their harsh words at each other, it was obvious that they had been drinking. Dane looked around to see if Sheriff Jack Polson was on the street. There was no sign of him. He quickly pulled the buggy to a halt.
Suddenly the big man’s fist lashed out and connected solidly with Ernie’s jaw. Ernie staggered backward, then charged his opponent with both fists pumping. The big man hit him again, and Ernie went down.
The young doctor rushed up to the circle of onlookers and asked one of the men if someone had gone for the sheriff.
The man shook his head. “He’s out of town at the moment, Doc. Both deputies are with him.”
Dane focused on the combatants again. Ernie was still d
own, and the big man was kicking him savagely in the midsection.
Anger welled up in the doctor. He pushed his way through the crowd. “Hey! That’s enough! Stop kicking him!”
The big man turned and gave him a heated glare. “You shut up, mister! I’ll kick him if I want to! He’s got it comin’!” With that, he sent another kick into Ernie’s ribs. Ernie let out a pained howl.
Sudden antagonism surged to the surface in Dane Logan. The heat of anger turned his cheeks red. Instantly, he moved into the center of the circle. “Get away from him!”
The big man set his jaw and swung at the intruder. Dane avoided the punch and retaliated by lashing a right to his mouth. The punch popped the big man’s head back, surprising him. Before he could set himself, Dane whipped a cracking left hook to the chin, and crossed a smashing right to the man’s temple. As he staggered backward, shaking his head, the people in the crowd back-stepped, trying to get out of the way.
On the ground, Ernie Piper sat up, blinking in unbelief as he saw who was defending him.
The big man planted his feet, and with wrath blazing from his eyes, charged Dane like a mad bull. His lips were bleeding, and as he swung at Dane’s face, he roared, “I’ll getcha!”
Again, Dane dodged the meaty fist. This time he drove a piston-style punch to the man’s solar plexus. The breath gushed from his mouth, spraying blood, and Dane followed with a powerful blow to his jaw.
The big man’s legs wobbled and his eyes glazed slightly. Dane rushed in and chopped him again with another punch to the jaw, whipping his head to one side, then as the man was righting himself, Dane hit him with another left, then followed with another right, putting him down.
When the big man hit the ground, people cheered. Ernie Piper was on his feet now, holding a hand to his midsection, his eyes bulging. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
The man was gasping for breath on the ground and rolled on to his knees, staring up through a blue haze at the lithe man who had put him down. There was a roaring inside his skull. He shook his head to clear it, but the roaring continued. His wrath was hot. He clenched his blood-stained teeth and struggled to his feet.
“Haven’t you had enough?” asked Dane. “Best thing for you to do is to move on and forget whatever was going on between you and Ernie. You outweigh him by at least eighty pounds.”
The man let out an animal-like roar and charged, fists pumping. His legs were unsteady, but it was obvious that he intended to destroy this adept young man who had put him down.
Dane ducked both hissing fists and drove another powerful blow to his solar plexus that bent him over. A whistling left hook cracked on his jaw, and he hit the ground facedown, out cold.
The crowd roared its approval while Dr. Dane turned to Ernie. “You hurt?”
Ernie shook his head. “Nothing serious, Doc. Just some sore ribs. I’m okay.”
At that moment, pounding hooves were heard, and three riders skidded to a halt. Immediately men in the crowd began telling Sheriff Jack Polson and his two deputies what had happened.
Looking puzzled, Ernie said, “Dr. Logan, did you used to be a professional boxer?”
Dane grinned. “No. Nothing like that.”
“Well, where’d you learn to fight like that?”
“On the streets of New York City,” responded the doctor. “And for recreation while I was in medical college, I used to go to a gym in Chicago and do some boxing.”
By this time, Sheriff Polson—who was in his late forties—moved up to the pair and glanced down at the unconscious man on the ground. “Doc, we’ve had trouble with T. J. Finnegan before. Every time he comes to town, he starts trouble of some kind. And it’s always after he’s been drinking in the saloon for a while.” Then to the small man he said, “Ernie, are you all right?”
“I’m a little sore in the ribs, Sheriff, but I’m okay. Personally, I think you ought to talk young Dr. Logan into being one of your deputies. He’s really good with his fists.”
Polson grinned. “So I was just told.” He set his eyes on the doctor, who had T. J. Finnegan’s blood sprayed on his white shirt. “You want to give up doctoring and put on a badge?”
Dane chuckled. “No, thanks, Sheriff. I’ll stick to doctoring. In fact, I’d better get to the office. I’ve been out at the Rocking D Ranch patching up young Josh Donaldson. He got bucked off a horse and landed on his shoulder, dislocating it. I had to set it and put his arm in a sling. Dad was delivering a baby on a ranch east of town. He may not be back yet, and Mom may have an office full of patients waiting to be taken care of. I need to get there right away.”
By this time, the big man was conscious. He groped his way to his feet, blood running from his split lips. The sheriff faced him and said, “Looks like your lips are split pretty bad, T. J. Maybe you’d better let Dr. Logan stitch them up.”
Finnegan’s eyes widened as he set them on Dane. “You’re not Dr. Logan.”
“Yes, he is,” spoke up one of the deputies. “He’s Dr. Jacob Logan’s son. Dr. Dane is his partner now.”
Finnegan looked Dane up and down. “You a boxer?”
“No. I just don’t like to see someone bullied. And you were bullying Ernie.”
The sheriff said, “Why don’t you go with Dr. Logan to his office, T. J., and let him stitch up those lips.”
Finnegan’s eyes flashed with anger. “I ain’t lettin’ him touch me!” With that, he wheeled and staggered toward his horse, which was tied to the hitch rail close by.
Ernie thanked the young physician for coming to his rescue, then walked away, his hand pressed to his midsection.
The sheriff chuckled. “You sure you don’t want to wear a badge and help me keep this town safe, Doc?”
Dane gave him a lopsided grin. “No, thanks.”
T.J. Finnegan put his horse to a trot and headed out of town, holding a hand to his bleeding mouth. As Dr. Dane climbed back in his buggy, people in the crowd called to him, thanking him for what he had done to help Ernie. The lowering sun was casting long shadows across the wide street.
Moments later, Dane pulled up in front of the doctor’s office, noticing that his father’s horse and buggy were there. Grabbing his suit coat and the medical bag, he hopped out, tied the reins to the hitch rail, and entered the office. He knew that by now, Nurse Ella Dover and his mother had already gone home.
Dr. Jacob Logan was just escorting a middle-aged woman from the waiting area toward the door of the examining room. He looked over his shoulder and stopped at the door. “Mrs. Williams, you go on into the examining room and sit down. I’ll be with you shortly. I need to talk to my son for a moment.”
The woman gave Dr. Dane a petulant glance, nodded, and moved on through the door.
Dr. Jacob closed the door behind her, then moved toward his son. “Your mother told me you had gone to the Donaldson ranch. Is Joshua—” His eyes were suddenly fastened on Dane’s blood-speckled shirt. “How’d you get that blood on you? Certainly not from Joshua.”
Dane’s features tinted. “Of course not. I had to stop a bully from beating up on Ernie Piper. I guess you know the guy. Name’s T. J. Finnegan.”
“Oh, sure. T. J. gets his belly full of whiskey, then becomes Mr. Troublemaker. So today, it was pound on poor little Ernie, eh?”
“Uh-huh. Trouble started right in front of the Lone Pine. I had to knock him out. Took several punches, so I split his lips. Got some of his blood on me.”
“Sheriff and deputies weren’t in on it?”
“No. They were out of town. Came back just after T. J. went down for the count.”
“Ernie okay?”
“Mm-hmm. Just some sore ribs.”
Jacob nodded. “I started to ask you if Joshua is all right.”
“He’s fine, Dad. It was a fairly simple dislocation of the shoulder. I guess Mom told you he got bucked off a horse.”
“Yes. I’m glad he’ll be all right.”
“Oh yeah. He was a brave boy. He’ll be bac
k to normal in a few weeks. With that houseful of females to tend to his every need, he’ll enjoy his recuperation time.”
Jacob smiled. “I’m sure you’re right about that.”
“The Donaldsons were surprised to learn that you had an adopted son. They had never heard about me.”
“Well, now they know.”
“Yeah. So how did the delivery go? Everyone okay?”
“Mm-hmm. Mother and husky son are both doing great. The father … well, you know how fathers are. He sure was frantic when he banged on our door early this morning. The sun wasn’t even up yet.” He yawned. “So I’m sort of tuckered out.”
“Tell you what, Dad …”
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Williams has to be our last patient for the day. Let me tend to her and you go on home. I’ll be there shortly. I’m sure Mom has supper on the stove.”
“Okay, son. But … ah … Mrs. Williams can be pretty cantankerous. And since you’re new to her, just be prepared for lots of questions and some argument.”
Dane grinned. “Don’t worry, Dad. Believe me, I’ve had my share of cantankerous people. I’ll just turn on my irresistible charm, and Mrs. Williams and I will get along fine.”
His father laughed and shook his head. “Well, enjoy yourself, son.” Jacob picked up his medical bag and headed for the front door. “See you at supper.”
“Right. Tell Mom I’ll be there shortly.”
When Jacob went out the door, Dane turned, squared his shoulders, and headed toward the examining room.
By September 1880, Dr. Dane Logan was getting quite well known by the people of Cheyenne and the farmers and ranchers in a thirty- to forty-mile radius. Like his adoptive father, he put his patients in the Cheyenne Memorial Hospital and performed surgeries there whenever possible. Sometimes—like with his father—emergency surgeries had to be done in the homes of the patients, especially those on farms and ranches.