Footsteps clumped across the squeaky wood floors of Dr. Lenora McCoy's office/apothecary shop.
"Hey, doc. Sheriff wants you down at the jail. They just brought in a desperate crook that needs patched up!"
Lenora looked up from concocting Mrs. Thatcher's gout cream to see a very out of breath Montgomery Scott standing in front of her expectantly, panting from the ride through town.
"How bad is he?" She asked, annoyed at the interruption. "Can I get this packaged up or do I need to drop and run?"
Sheriff Pike had been especially busy catching criminals recently and usually called for her to tend the wounds of the less violent offenders who'd been injured while being taken into custody.
Scotty shrugged. "He is not on death's door, but not in good shape, either: Busted face, busted arm, bullet to the leg. Gentleman Jim surely didn't take being arrested very easily."
Lenora looked up again, attention caught by the name of the notorious highwayman and rake, whose picture was plastered on wanted signs all over town. He had reportedly robbed thousands of dollars from trains and coaches and stolen the virtue of countless ladies, including Railroad baron Alexander Marcus's daughter, Carol.
"Kirk's been arrested?" She asked in disbelief, bustling around to collect supplies she'd need to help the scoundrel, even though she wasn't looking forward to encountering the man under any circumstances.
"Indeed," Scott confirmed, clutching his broad brimmed hat anxiously.
"Bout time," the doctor grunted heaving her bag up and tying her black bonnet on her head. "Who knows how much he's stolen by now, the no-account wretch. Help me hitch up Peaches. I'm taking the buggy out."
Scotty nodded and minutes later she clucked to Peaches, her sturdy brown mare, and was on her way to the north end of Enterprise, where the jail and a soon to be convict waited her.
On the way, she wondered just how far the son of a hero could fall so far and very likely end up in a noose.
'Twas a shame, she thought. Poor George Kirk would be rolling in his grave at the disgrace his son had become.
When she'd first arrived in California from war ravaged Georgia, the town folk had been quick to share the history of how George Kirk, God rest his soul, had helped save most of the town from a raging fire and died in the act, leaving behind a wife and newborn son.
Somewhere along the line, that son, James, had turned rebel and started committing crimes rather than being a productive citizen. He was known as "Gentleman Jim" for the genteel method in which he robbed folks and "the scourge of California" by outraged fathers whose daughters had fallen prey to his charms.
Lenora had never met the man, but she knew Sheriff Pike had a soft spot for the kid even though he'd been hunting him for years.
As she pulled up and hitched her small buggy outside the jail, she wondered what was going through the sheriff's mind. It would be painful for him if he had to string up his good friend's son.
Grabbing her heavy medical bag, she spoke to the guard outside and was quickly ushered into the cool, dank, stone building.
"Heya, Sheriff, deputy," she said, nodding to Pike and his subordinate, who were standing just outside a cell, looking in with concern.
"Thanks for coming, Dr. McCoy," the sheriff spoke up, looking relieved at the sight of her. "Jim's in here. It's not a pretty sight, I'll warn you. Beware of his smooth talk. Even while injured, he can still try his advances."
He unlocked the door and and accompanied Lenora into the cell where a battered, bloody young man was slumped on the bench, leg propped up beside him and one arm in a makeshift sling.
His face was a mass of bruises and dried blood, but a pair of vivid blue eyes opened sluggishly and then widened when he saw Lenora.
"I thought you said you were bringing a doc, not the Ladies' Aid," he growled. So much for the smooth talk.
"Watch it, Kirk" Pike warned. "This is Doctor Lenora McCoy and I would strongly advise you not to get on her bad side."
Lenora had heard much worse from the mule headed menfolk that thought women shouldn't be doctors, but the contempt with with the brat spoke instantly had her disliking him.
"You seem like a real prize, Kirk," she muttered, glancing over him to see what injury needed most attention.
James perked up a bit, his bushy eyebrows raising in a sardonic smile.
"That's why they call me "The Scourge Of California." Ladies love the roguish type."
He blatantly smirked and Lenora cut away the bandage on his leg with less the usual care.
Underneath was the bloody flesh mangled by the bullet that had hit him. She was sure said bullet was still in there and would need to be removed at once.
"Gotta get this out before infection sets in," she said. "Looks like "Gentleman Jim" here put up quite a fight."
"Most certainly. Had to hog-tie him to get him here," said the rather disheveled deputy.
"You think I was going to just let them haul me away? Ha! I gave as good as I got." Kirk bragged, showing off rope marks that went up his arms.
Extracting the bullet went relatively smoothly, though Kirk grunted a few times from the pain.
"You're pretty good, doc!" He said as she cleaned and dressed the wound.
"Don't sound so surprised, Kid." She snapped. "I'm a fully licensed medical doctor and I know what I'm doing. The question is, do you? You're awfully young to be a hardened criminal already. Was it worth it?"
Jim gave a snort of mocking laughter.
"If you call relieving robber barons of ill-gotten gold that they've acquired through deception and blackmail, then yes, it was worth it."
He hissed as she worked on his broken arm, clenching his firm jaw tightly as she set the bone and carefully splinted it.
Despite his erratic behavior, all in all, for a common thief, Kirk was rather decent looking, underneath the blood and bruises.
"Hold still so I can check that nose!" She ordered, doing her best to ignore his curious gaze as she washed the cuts on his face and checked for facial fractures. His short beard felt rough under her fingers as she confirmed his jaw was not broken.
She yanked her hand away, seeing his smirk had become a pleased leer.
"That's enough for you, you scalawag. You're fit enough for a long prison sentence or the gallows, whatever comes first," She muttered, carefully packing up again.
Jim laughed mirthlessly again.
"Won't it be a shame to put a rope around such a pretty neck, though, doc? I'll be the best looking corpse once they're through with me."
It sounded to Lenora that Jim needed an asylum rather than a jail cell from His strange and morbid remarks that sent a chill up her spine. The young prisoner didn't seem to care at all about whether he lived or died, just that he looked nice doing it.
Pike gritted his teeth in irritation.
"That is enough out of you, Kirk. You still have a trial to go through. Be polite and thank the good doctor for repairing your sorry hide."
"My compliments and gratitude, Dr. McCoy," Kirk said, sitting up and bowing. "Perhaps you'll stop by again to check my bandages?"
"If you're lucky, Kirk. I've got enough patients in this rough and tumble town to keep my old bones busy for weeks. Keep the arm still!"
With that admonishment, she whirled around and exited the cell, Pike following after.
"This is the kid you're so invested in?" She asked as the door clanged shut again.
The sheriff shook his head and sighed, grey eyes suddenly weary.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. He's angry: at life, at me, at his mother, at the unfairness and cruelty in this world. He wants to think he is like the new Robin Hood, I believe, but he goes about it the wrong way. One of these days, he will get himself killed-if not by the law, then by the hand of the powerful people he shamelessly robs. I failed him a long time ago, Dr. McCoy. I didn't realize how much he needed someone to believe him and listen to him."
Lenora nodded in sympathy.
"It's hard to know how these things pan out, Sheriff. From what I'm told, you did the best you could for him. I've got to get to another patient now, but keep me informed of Kirk's situation. Hope the lunatic doesn't do anything desperate."
"You and me both," Pike agreed and like the gentleman he was, gave her a hand up into the buggy.
Lena waved and soon Peaches was trotting off again and the young scapegrace was out of sight, but not out of mind.