The Lone Goose

by Fern Shafer

To help the Sherman Ranch, Jess agrees to drive a new Doctor to a distant town. Shouldn't be too much trouble or take too long. At least that's what he thinks.

This is a revision. Needed to change one character since I used her name without permission and out of character (apologies, Patty), and wanted to give reference to another character for whom I did have permission (thanks, Sally). Plus a few other tweaks.

This is purely a work of fiction. I apologize for any liberties taken regarding year, medical advancement, geography or language. The author presumes the reader has some familiarity with the TV series "Laramie." If not, you really should treat yourself, and watch a few episodes of the best western ever made. You may then understand why some of us fell in love with Robert Fuller (aka Jess Harper) over 50 years ago. By the way, there is some cussin' and sexual suggestion in this story, so reader beware and/or stop here.

PROLOGUE

It had been a tough haul for Samantha Fuller. From the loss of her parents, through the loss of Steve…..yeah, Steve…..best not to dwell on him. Then the loss of her brother, the war, and finally the hell of schooling. But she was through with all that, and now was on her way to the rest of her life. She relished the challenges ahead, and promised herself she would not give up, no matter the difficulties. She was, after all, a Fuller, and that meant something. She gazed at her notes with the roughly-drawn map. From the train station in Cheyenne, she'd take the stagecoach to Laramie, and then hire someone to take her and her supplies to Douglas. She'd rather do the last leg by herself, but she knew the last leg of her journey would be through some potentially hostile country. Better to be conservative and ask for help…correction, pay for help….rather than regret later. She had to admit her stubborn pride had gotten her into trouble more than once.

The rocking of the train, side to side, was mesmerizing, and the darkness outside the window lulling. Her notes slipped from her hands and onto the floor as her tired body finally gave in to much needed sleep.

CHAPTER 1

A chilly wind was blowing as Slim and Jess drove the buckboard into Laramie.

"I'm going to see Mort about that missing brood mare of ours. Take Jonesy's list over to Benson's store. I'll be along directly," Slim handed the list to Jess and jumped down from the buckboard.

"No problem," Jess licked his lips expectantly, "How about we meet up at the saloon. I reckon it'll take Jock some time to fill this order. Jonesy sure can put a list together."

Slim grinned up at Jess, "Yeah, and the first thing on the list is coffee. Not that you'd know anything about that." Then losing the grin, Slim continued more seriously, "Sure hope Mort can help. That horse is worth a lot. Tough enough times with winter comin' on."

"Yeah, I know," said Jess, feeling at fault, "I tried to track 'em, Slim; honest I did. Still can't believe I lost the trail."

"Not your fault, Jess. You gave it your best. I s'pect the guy that took her, wasn't new to horse stealing." Slim turned and headed over towards the Sheriff's office.

Jess gazed briefly at Slim's back. His best. Well his best was just not good enough. With a resigned sigh, and a slight droop to his shoulders, Jess flicked the reins and the buckboard lurched forward.

11

As Slim entered the Sheriff's office, he was brought up short by a rather heated conversation Mort was having with a woman. "Ma'am, as I've already told you several times, there's just no one available. No one, at least, that I could rightly recommend to help you. There's been talk of another gold strike out on the Sweetwater, and a lot of folks have headed out that way. And I just can't escort you myself; there's no one around to cover for me."

"And as I have repeatedly told you, MISTER Cory, I'm willing and able to pay handsomely for the service. I know it is getting on in the season. But I simply must get there before the snows come."

Slim started to back out, thinking it prudent to come back later, but both Mort and the lady turned and stared at him. Mort's face lost its look of consternation as a large grin formed, "Why, Slim, am I glad to see you!"

"Mort. Ma'am. Maybe I should come back later," Slim continued to back out the door.

"No, no! By all means, please come in," Mort quickly stepped forward, grabbed Slim's arm, dragging him forcibly into the office. "In fact you might be just the man I need. Slim Sherman, I'd like to introduce you to Doctor Fuller. Doctor Fuller, this is Slim Sherman."

Slim's eyebrows rose as he hesitated a moment, took off his hat, and cordially acknowledged her, "Doctor."

"Mister Sherman."

Mort's smile continued to spread. "I was just telling Dr. Fuller there was no one I could recommend, but you might be just the person she needs."

"Oh?" both Slim and Doctor Fuller spoke in unison as they momentarily exchanged glances.

"Yes. Doc Fuller is looking for someone to drive her and her supplies up to Douglas. Shouldn't be that long a trip if the weather cooperates. And I know you're always looking for additional income…" Mort let his words hang in the air.

"Now hold on a minute, Mort. I'm not sure this would be the best time for the Doctor to be traveling, and..."

Dr. Fuller interrupted, "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, MISTER Sherman. I'm used to traveling in poor weather and am not overly concerned. Whether I have your assistance or not I AM going to Douglas, and that is final."

Slim and Mort stared first at her, and then at each other. After a moment Slim continued, looking directly at Mort but also keeping a watch on Doctor Fuller out of the corner of his eye. "As I started to say, Mort, I came to tell you we're missing one of our best brood mares. We're pretty sure she was run off. Jess tried to track 'em, but with no luck. I was wonderin'..."

Slim was again interrupted, "I'm sorry to hear about the loss of your horse, Mister Sherman. Very sad affair, I'm sure. I hope Mister Cory can assist you. But even more reason to consider my request for assistance, since your pay will be extremely handsome."

Slim's hackles began to rise. Lady or not, she was starting to feel like a burr under his saddle. 'Who does she think she is, and where does she get off calling Mort "Mister" Cory.' "Ma'am, I'm not for hire and…"

"I'm not suggesting you'd hire out for just any reason or for just anyone, but I would like you to seriously consider my offer. I DO plan on finding someone in this town who is not afraid to drive me up to Douglas. I'll be over at the hotel later this evening. If you decide to accept my offer, presuming I've not found someone else, then we can discuss the details." She abruptly turned and headed towards the door, which Slim quickly moved to open.

Both Slim and Mort looked at her receding form as she moved swiftly down the boardwalk. After a moment, Mort said, "I know she's not the easiest or friendliest lady, Slim, but she is a Doc, and willing to pay good wages. Maybe you should think on it."

"I would, Mort, but there's just too much bookkeeping I've got to do before the Overland supervisor comes by next week; got way behind what with tryin' to track whoever took our mare."

"Too bad, Slim. Thought it might be the answer to your prayers. And hers too for that matter." With a bit of a mutter, and downcast eyes Mort added, "Though I don't know that I'm rightly too concerned about her prayers."

"She's a bit uppity isn't she." It was more a statement than a question. "'Course guess she has to be since she's a lady Doc." 'Plus not a real attractive one either,' Slim thought, 'A bit below average on everything that counts. Maybe that's why she became a Doc.'

Both men were quiet for a spell. Then a gleam appeared in Mort's eye. "What about Jess?"

"What ABOUT Jess?" countered Slim suspiciously.

"Well… if you could spare him for a week or so…" again, Mort let his words trail off.

Slim was thoughtful for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at the door the lady Doc had so recently exited. He was still holding his hat and he absentmindedly ran his hand around the brim. "You know, that might just work. Jess has been restless the last few days; blames himself for the loss of the mare. Don't think we'll be finding her any time soon. Might work out, at that." Slim threw Mort a full smile.

"All right!" responded Mort. "Just between you and me, I'll be glad to see the last of that woman. Now, give me the details about that mare."

111

Having dropped off the list of supplies, Jess emerged from the general store, just as the Overland stage coach drove by. Surprise registered on his face, and after a moment's hesitation, he hurried down to the stage depot.

"Mose, what the heck are you doing here? There weren't supposed to be no run today," Jess called up to the driver.

"Don't I know it," Mose responded, hefting a large parcel from the roof and slinging it down to Jess. "Weren't supposed to be, but here I am. None too happy about it neither, particular since I had to change them horses myself at your relay station. Should a known you'd be gallivantin' around town whiles I got to work." He scowled down at Jess, but then added with a big grin. "Exceptin' I don't mind gettin' the bonus for this here extra run."

Having momentarily felt guilty for not being at the relay station to help change the coach team, Jess was relieved to hear Mose's last comment. "How come the extra run, Mose?"

"Seems these here supplies just had to git here," Mose gestured towards the stage coach's over-flowing roof, and then to the passenger portion of the coach. "No passengers," added Mose.

Curious, Jess looked into the coach and saw additional boxes of all shapes and sizes.

"So what's it all about?" asked Jess.

"Durned if I knows for sure," replied Mose, "but rumor has it," Mose's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "it's fer some new Doc. And get this….it's a SHE Doc!" he cackled. "She sure had to be a payin' a rightly good penny to get all this stuff out here."

"A woman Doc! Ya don't say. What's this country comin' to? I knew one once. Not that long ago. Truth of it, she was okay. Didn't think there were that many of 'em around. Wonder if she'll be settin' up shop around here. Could always use another Doc, though not sure how folks'll cotton to a woman Doc."

"Yep, with boys like you around we's ALWAYS a needin' extra Docs," Mose grinned.

Giving Mose a dismissive wave with his hand, Jess turned and headed over to the saloon.

1111

As Jess strode to the saloon, he thought back on that other woman doctor (see Leap of Faith by Sally Bahnsen). 'Yeah, good thing she was around when she was. I needed a Doc real bad, and she sure fixed me up. Come to think of it, she was a right purty thing, once she took off those gol durn thick glasses that she had no business a wearin'.' First time he'd seen her, she was bent over him with her face nigh on touching his own. He'd briefly thought some great hoot owl was staring him down. He smiled at the recollection. She'd apparently had some crazy notion that folks wouldn't take a lady Doc seriously unless she looked "professional"…whatever that looked like, and so she'd donned those ridiculous glasses. 'Only made her look funny, and be blind as a bat ta boot,' Jess mused as he entered the saloon.

Opal watched Jess as he came through the saloon's batwing doors, went up to the bar, and ordered a beer. She enjoyed watching the way he walked. And his face wore one of his endearing grins. 'Must be thinkin' on something pleasant,' she thought, 'He sure is one good-lookin' cowboy… and one heck of a lover.' Her smile grew even wider. Sidling over to him, she snaked a possessive arm around his slim waist. "So what's cookin', good lookin'?"

Jess, with beer in hand, turned towards her, "Well, hey there darlin'." He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. "Aw, nothin' much, exceptin' it'll soon be my birthday."

"Really? Why that's sure something to celebrate! Sam, break out the good stuff. Jess here's getting ready to have a birthday!" Opal sang out.

Jess felt a momentary pang of remorse. His actual birthday was in the summer, near the end of July. But the end of July was also when the Bannister gang had burned his home, with most of his family still inside. He'd been unable to get them out. Too hard a memory. He hadn't had much reason to celebrate his birthday for years following while he was on the drift. So he'd given up birthdays. But when Andy, Slim's younger brother, had quizzed him about his birthday, Jess had decided to choose a date. He chose one in the late fall. He'd always loved autumn. Back where he grew up in the Texas panhandle, it was a time when it finally became cool enough to breath. Up north the fall brought the yellow Aspens into vivid contrast with the evergreens. It was a time when there was a clarity to the air, which made him think he could reach out and actually touch distant mountains.

He was brought back to the present by a slight tightening of Opal's arm around his waist, "Now wait a minute, Opal. It ain't for a few days, yet."

"Yeah, but you might be back mending fences then. Or might you be able to sneak away and come into town?" Opal asked expectantly, with a gentle rise to one eyebrow and looking deep into Jess's startling blue eyes.

"Ya know…." Jess started to say, returning Opal's soul-searching gaze. But he was interrupted by Slim's sudden appearance at the bar.

"Jess. I need to talk to you. Now."

"Now?" asked a rather distracted Jess.

"Now," Slim repeated. Jess knew there was no arguing when Slim used that tone of voice.

After a longing glance up and down Opal's supple body, Jess turned away and followed Slim to a table in the corner.

"Don't stay away too long, Cowboy," Opal called after him in her most seductive voice.

Jess, giving a lingering look over his shoulder, replied, "You bet."

He then turned his attention to Slim, as they both sat down.

"So what's up, Pard?"

"I may have a partial answer to our worries about the missing mare."

"What? Mort has a lead already?" queried Jess hopefully.

"Not exactly," Slim replied, looking a bit sheepish.

Jess waited for Slim to continue. When he didn't, Jess asked, "Well then, what 'exactly'?"

"Ah….there's a delivery to be made. With good pay. And Mort thought we might be just right for the job." Slim avoided looking directly into Jess's eyes.

"Sure, Slim. Glad to help. When and where?"

After a few more minutes of silence, Slim shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and blurted out, "It's deliverin' a Doc and her supplies to Douglas. It should only take a week or so, depending on the weather…"

"Her supplies, Slim? Would this be that woman Doc?"

Slim looked up in surprise. "Well, yeah. How'd you know?"

"How else: Mose," Jess smiled. More seriously, he questioned, "When would we be leavin'? And can we take that kinda time away from the ranch? I know Andy's growin' but he's still a bit shy of doin' a grown man's work, day in and day out."

"Leaving right away, and not 'we', Pard; just you," Slim once again avoided Jess's eyes.

"Right away? Me? Just me? Aw, Slim. You know my birthday's a comin', and Andy had plans to celebrate, not to mention my own plans." Jess sent a pining look over to Opal who was smiling warmly, and a mite suggestively, back at him.

"I'd go, Jess, but we've got the stage line superintendent due in." Slim paused, and with a drop in his shoulders and his voice added, "You don't have to go, Pard. I understand. It was just an idea, and maybe not a good one at that."

Jess regarded him, noting the sudden sag in both Slim's body and voice. He knew the ranch was on hard times and could use some extra money; plus he felt responsible for the loss of that dang brood mare. Besides, Slim had done so much for him since Jess had wandered onto Sherman property a few years back. Slim had become like a brother, and brothers don't like to see each other hurting. "Come to think on it, might be good to get out on the trail for a while. We can sure use the money, and from what I hear this woman Doc has a lot to spend. We can always celebrate after I get back. Shucks. Shouldn't be that much trouble or take that long."

Slim looked up and straight into Jess's eyes. "Thanks, Jess. I know you're doin' this for me and the ranch. And I appreciate it. I'll set things up with Mort and the Doc before heading back to the ranch. Tell you what, you stay in town and celebrate your birthday early. I'll get a room for you over at the hotel," Slim glanced back at Opal, "just in case you need it. I'll ride back in later and drop off your bedroll."

"I'll just take you up on that offer. Least wise the celebratin'. Don't rightly reckon I'll need the hotel room." Jess threw a wolfish grin over towards Opal.

"Yeah, I suspect not. Knowing you, I suspect not, Pard. Hey, Sam," Slim called over to the bartender, "Everything for Jess tonight goes on my tab." Sam gave a quick nod, "Sure thing, Slim."

With grins on all faces, Slim stood up and left the saloon. Opal sauntered over to sit in Slim's vacated chair, moving it over until it was touching Jess's. She brought two glasses and a full bottle of whiskey. She knew she was going to have the good stuff….yeah, the really good stuff.

11111

Sometime later, a very happy, and very inebriated Jess listened to suggestive whispering from Opal. Standing and gently pulling on his hand, Opal was enticing him to follow her upstairs. As Jess rose to his feet, he swayed slightly. "Wait a minute, darlin'. I gotta see a man about a horse."

Jess, staggering a tad, exited the saloon and headed for the necessary around back. Having relieved himself, but thinking about Opal, he was finding it more difficult than usual to make himself presentable. "Down boy," he murmured as he attempted to finish buttoning up. Thus preoccupied, and in a hurry to return to the object of his distraction, he rounded the corner and ran smack into a woman. She sat down hard.

"Gosh darn, ma'am. I'm sorry. My fault. Wasn't watchin' where I was goin'," slurred Jess. "Here, let me help ya up," Jess extended his hand.

Smelling the whiskey breath emanating from this disheveled cowboy, seeing his only partially buttoned jeans, glancing back at the alley he'd emerged from, and then looking at his proffered hand, she sniffed, "I think NOT." She couldn't help but notice the rather large bulge in his jeans. It was, after all, just about at eye level from her current position. "Why are you in such a hurry? Whore not going to wait for you? No wonder. You stink!" With that, she righted herself, ignoring Jess's offer of help, and stormed off. Jess gazed after her for a moment, thinking, 'Sure got a bee in her bonnet' It was dim on the boardwalk, but there had been enough light emanating from the saloon's large window to give Jess a reasonable look at the lady. 'Bit below average,' he thought absently, 'She'll have a hard time finding a fella if she talks to all men like that.' Dismissing the incident with a shrug and thinking of his awaiting 'celebration' he staggered back into the saloon, grabbed Opal and carried her, laughing, up the stairs. 'Ta hell with what anybody thinks. Most folks know about me and Opal. 'Sides, it's my birthday; leastways almost my "chosen" birthday.'

111111

'This is sure turning in to a heck of a start to the "rest of my life".' Samantha hadn't been able to find anyone to help her, and then being plowed down by that drunken cowboy was icing on the cake. No matter. The sooner she left Laramie the better. And she was leaving tomorrow, come hell or high water. She figuring she'd already experienced the hell; she prayed the water would hold off. Her butt was sure sore from its unexpected contact with the hard boardwalk.

As she entered the hotel and went to the desk to get her key, a tall man, with hat in hand, rapidly approached her. "Doctor Fuller?" Turning she thought she recognized the fellow from the sheriff's office. "Mister Sherman?"

"Yes, ma'am. I've been waiting to speak with you."

"And I've been out looking for assistance since neither you nor the sheriff were willing to lift a finger to help me."

Slim took a calming breath. 'This woman can sure irritate a body.' "I'm thinking we might be able to help you after all."

"Really?" she asked, her demeanor doing an about face, and a slight smile appearing.

'She's almost pretty when she smiles.' Slim took a second to actually look at the woman. 'Shorter than average and a bit stocky but surprisingly looks more like muscle than fat. Hair's a rather mousy brown, face not pretty or beautiful, but not ugly either. Overall, a little under average, but still, that smile…'

"So how can you help me," she inquired, pulling Slim out of his musing.

"I've got a man, Jess Harper, who's willing to drive you..."

Interrupting Slim, she said, "Jess… is he the Jess who couldn't track your lost horse? If he can't track, is he any good as a guide?"

Thinking he might have to bite his tongue until it bled, and taking another deep breath, Slim continued, "As I was saying, Jess is willing to drive you. And yes, he's a good guide and a good man and..."

"Considering I have few if any other options I guess I will have to use your Jess Harper."

"Ma'am, he's not MY Jess Harper, he's his own man, but he's willin..."

"Whatever," she interrupted again, "I'll pay half up front and half once he's delivered me and my supplies safely." She abruptly turned away from Slim. Crooking a finger at him she indicated he should follow her as she mounted the stairs. "Come along now and we'll discuss the details."

The desk clerk called up to her, "Ma'am, we don't allow gentlemen callers upstairs…"

She turned and fixed the clerk with a frosty stare. "We? WHO exactly are WE? Mister Sherman is NOT a gentleman caller, he is an employee. I will NOT conduct monetary business affairs in public. And I will have anyone I like up to my room when and how I wish. I am the customer. YOU, sir, are the clerk."

Turning to Slim, she again crooked her finger for him to follow. Slim glancing over at the cowed clerk, rolled his eyes, but then shrugged his shoulders and followed her up the stairs. 'What an unyielding woman.' His thoughts then turned to Jess. 'Jess isn't exactly the easiest person to get along with either at times.' But Jess could certainly deal with this woman. Couldn't he?

Returning to the front desk within minutes, Slim asked for paper and pencil. He'd thought briefly of looking Jess up, but decided a note would be easier. At least for himself if not for Jess. Having scrawled a quick note, he asked the clerk to deliver it to the saloon by morning if Jess didn't show up to claim his reserved room. Slim was willing to bet dimes to dollars the note would indeed be delivered to the saloon. Sending the clerk a friendly, if slightly pained smile, Slim left the hotel, climbed up into the loaded buckboard and headed home.

As the buckboard passed the saloon, Slim glanced up at the second floor windows. 'Celebrate long and hardy, my friend. You might just need it!' Slapping the reins to speed the team along, Slim thought more on his Pard. He knew Jess was a man of many talents, and much more experienced in the world than Slim himself was. 'Jess can certainly handle someone like this woman Doc. Sure as shootin.' At least Slim hoped that was the case.

CHAPTER 2

The barkeep, seeing Jess carefully descend the stairs the next morning called out, "Mornin', Jess. How ya doin'?"

Jess, flinching, softly replied, "Not so loud, Sam, OK? I'm feelin' a mite under the weather this mornin'."

"Not surprising considering the way ya tied one on last night. Happy birthday, by the way."

"Ain't quite. Still have a few days. But sure enjoyed last night's celebration," Jess added, giving the barkeep a sly smile and a wink.

"Oh, almost forgot, got this here message for you." Sam withdrew a letter from under the bar and handed it to Jess.

Through bleary, blood-shot eyes, Jess read the note. "Dad gum. I shoulda been at the livery an hour ago." Jess dropped the note and hurried towards the door.

"Wait Jess," Sam called out, "Slim dropped these off for ya. Said ya'd be needin' 'em."

Jess stepped back to the bar, retrieving a bedroll, canteen, and sack of food. Usually Jess loved the smell of food, but this morning his stomach did a bit of a flip. "Here, Sam, you can keep the food. Suspect the Doc has the wagon stocked. Besides not gonna be that long a drive."

"OK, Jess, if you insist. I'm not one for turn down anythin' coming out of Jonesy's kitchen. So you're takin' that lady Doc up to Douglas are ya?"

"Yep, reckon so."

As Jess exited the saloon he heard Sam add, "Good luck, then." Sam's tone of voice did not bode well, at least if Jess had been paying attention. But Jess was distracted having to squint painfully as the sunny day assaulted his eyes. Double timing down to the stables he was brought up short as he entered.

"If he's not coming, he's not coming. I'm ready to head out. I've waiting long enough. Now hand over the buckboard," an irate female voice demanded.

"Ma'am, as I've told ya. Jess oughta be along any time. He's good for it. And I ain't feeling real comfortable handin' over the rig to ya all by your lonesome. You bein' a woman and all. No offense. Ya may have drivin' experience but this here's a rental, and I want it back in one piece, and I know Jess'll do just that, but I ain't too sure 'bout you. No disrespect meant."

"Actually, I DO take offense and you ARE being disrespectful. Now give me the rig and I mean NOW!"

Jess interrupted in a quiet voice, "I'm here, Bill."

Samantha twirled to the speaker and thought, 'Oh hell! Him!'

Jess, recognizing the lady he'd upended the previous night thought, 'Oh hell! Her!'

They eyed each other for several moments. Finally, Samantha snapped, "About time you showed up, MISTER Harper."

"Yes, ma'am. My apologies. Got a mite held up this mornin'." Trying to ease the tension, Jess displayed one of his 'woman-winning' grins.

All he got in return was an icy cold stare and a quick once over from head to toe, with a longer than necessary pause just below his belt. "At least I see you are a bit more presentable this morning, MISTER Harper."

Damn, he felt uncomfortable. Before he could say anything else, she growled, "I'm ready to leave. Let's go." Without further preamble, she climbed unaided into the rented buckboard and stared straight ahead.

Giving a brief glance at the liveryman, who looked at him with a mixture of gratitude and pity, Jess climbed into the two-horse buckboard, took the reins, clucked to the horses and the rig left the livery.

22

For a solid two hours, as they drove northwest, there was total silence between the two. Jess glanced over at his traveling companion. She was dressed more like a man than a woman in his opinion. Loose-fitting trousers and what could pass as a work shirt and all mostly hidden under a heavy sheepskin jacket, not unlike the one he himself wore. She wasn't exactly ugly, but wasn't anything to write home about neither. 'Yep,' confirming his opinion from the previous night, 'a bit below average.'

Although his head still throbbed unmercifully Jess was tired of the impasse and he tried to break the ice. After all, they'd be together for a few days. He glanced back at the full buckboard and observed, "Lot of stuff we're haulin'. You plannin' on settin' up shop in Douglas?"

Ignoring his question, she continued to stare straight ahead.

After several more minutes of silence, Jess tried again, "Listen, ma'am. I'm real sorry about knockin' ya down last night. I was sorta under the weather, if ya get my drift." He glanced over at her, but she continued to stare straight ahead.

Several more minutes of silence passed. He finally added, "Actually it was an early birthday celebration. Gonna be my birthday in a few days. And you can call me Jess. What should I call you?"

Turning a disdainful eye on him, she replied, "My name is Samantha Fuller. My friends call me Sam. YOU can call me DOCTOR Fuller."

Jess stared hard at her for several moments. Under his breath he muttered, "I know a Sam, and HE's a hell of a lot friendlier than you."

"Watch your language MISTER Harper."

'Well, this sure oughta be a fun drive,' Jess thought with disgust, tugging his hat up and down, then settling it even firmer down on this head. Giving a cluck and a sharp flick to the reins, he increased the buckboard's speed. Getting there sooner rather than later, couldn't be soon enough in his opinion. 'What in blue blazes has Slim gotten me in to? The pay sure as hell better be good!'

222

It was late afternoon and Jess was thinking it was about time to start looking for a good place to overnight when he noticed circling buzzards up ahead. Pointing towards the birds he stated, "Gotta check this out." She didn't disagree. Driving a bit closer to the birds, Jess finally pulled the rig to a halt and tied off the reins on the brake. "Wait here." He jumped down and walked off the trail. After several yards he came upon the remains of what appeared to have once been a cowboy. Hard to tell for sure. As one of the vultures landed and started feasting, Jess drew his revolver and shot the bird.

"Why did you do that?" asked a voice from behind him. Jess twirled, leveling his gun at the intruder. Samantha calmly looked at the gun aimed at her. "You planning on shooting me too?"

Jess cast his eyes down, embarrassed. He holstered his gun and turned back to the remains. "No, ma'am. Sorry. Guess we better get ta buryin' him."

"Agreed," Sam said, "But why did you shoot the bird."

Jess turned and looked at her. "Why? Why not? That damn bird….sorry ma'am….was eatin' on what's left of that poor fella."

"So?" She replied, "If we'd not come along to bury this poor wretch, the birds would have essentially done the job for us. Indeed if it were not for the scavengers, whether they be vultures or ants, we'd be knee deep in carcasses and crumbs."

Jess just stared at her for a moment. Then he looked out over the landscape and briefly envisioned it being knee deep in carcasses and crumbs. Shaking his head, he only replied "Yes, ma'am. Sorry." He retreated to the buckboard, retrieved a small shovel from under the seat, and proceeded with the burial. To Jess's surprise, Doc Sam (as he'd started thinking of her) fished a small Bible from one of her parcels, but with nary a glance at it, spoke nice biblical words over the grave. 'Guess she knows the Good Book as well as a lot of other stuff. Shucks, she's a Doctor after all.' But he just couldn't let go of the vulture issue.

"You know them birds are mighty ugly. No feathers on their head. Just ugly red skin."

'Why'd I say that?' Jess thought.

She stiffened, and turned to face him. "MISTER Harper, if your job were to stick your head into carrion would you want to have a full head of hair and a beard? Think on it. Besides, there are a lot of ugly animals in this world. Four-legged AND two-legged. You planning on shooting all of them?"

'Damn, can't say nothin' to that woman without it coming back to bite me.' No he didn't have a mind to shoot everything that was ugly. On second thought, if he DID have a mind, he knew where he might start. Glancing over at her retreating back, Jess thought, 'She really is on the ugly side of average.' But then another image popped uninvited into his mind: a vulture sporting a full head of hair and a beard. Jess shivered. Now that WAS ugly….

2222

Having set up camp not too far from the grave given the lateness of the hour and the presence of a small clear lake, Jess had built a good warm fire and made a passable supper for the two of them. It was becoming increasingly chilly since it was approaching late autumn. He hoped, but did not expect, the snows to hold off until he got back home. Home. How good that word sounded. The ranch had indeed become his home. And Slim, Andy and Jonesy his adopted family. He missed them. His introspection was interrupted by Doc Sam's unexpected question. "So, were you in the war, Mister Harper?"

"War? You mean the past war?" Jess felt stupid as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Yes, Mister Harper. The past war. The war between the Northern and the Southern states of our country. Did you participate?"

Jess hesitated. Not exactly casual after-dinner conversation in his opinion. But what the heck. She was paying his way. "Yes, ma'am, I did."

"Which side?"

"What?"

"Which side? North or South?"

Jess's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

She repeated, "Which side? North or South?"

After several seconds of silence, Jess replied, "South, if it's any concern of yours."

"Thought that might be the case. What did you do?"

Jess's eyes narrowed even more, "What do you mean 'What did I do'?"

"I mean what was your position."

He looked incredulously at her. What was she up to? "I was a sharp shooter. Always been good with a gun."

Samantha's eyes drifted down to his low-slung, tied-down holster. "Figures."

"I'm askin' again. Why?" Jess queried with a sharp edge to his voice.

"My brother was killed at Shiloh by a southern sharpshooter." Sam looked at Jess for several moments. She then turned her back, laid down on her bed roll and appeared to drift off.

Jess stared at her back for several minutes before laying down on his own bedroll. Sleep was a long time coming and he did not sleep much that night. He too had been at Shiloh, though he knew it as Pittsburg Landing. It had been two days of bloody hell. The death toll had been high on both sides, and many unaware Yankees had been felled by bullets from his rifle.

22222

Morning brought a lovely multi-hued sunrise. Jess, rising from his bed roll, heard honking. Glancing towards the sound, he saw twenty or so Canadian geese gracefully lift off the nearby lake and form a double "V" as their wings beat in synchrony. Despite his tired mind and body, Jess enjoyed the sight. 'Beautiful. Wild. Free,' Jess thought.

"Don't you DARE shoot them!"

Twirling towards the voice, Jess almost pulled his revolver.

Doc Sam sat upright, looking at Jess and beyond him to the geese.

"I wasn't plannin' on shootin' 'em. They ain't ugly," quipped Jess.

"You know they mate for life. If you kill one of a mated pair, the surviving one will never mate again. Just goes off and dies."

Jess detected an unexpected sadness in Sam's voice as she spoke. "No. I didn't know that," Jess replied, with a softness in his voice.

"Doesn't surprise me. You not knowing." Sam shot back, all sadness gone from her voice.

Jess stiffened. 'So much for trying to be nice to this shrew.'

Just then, a couple of rabbits bolted from a nearby bush.

"How about rabbits? Can I shoot rabbits?" Jess queried.

"Sure. Rabbits are prolific. Each litter can have up to..."

Before Sam could finish her thought Jess had drawn and shot both rabbits.

"Breakfast," he announced.

CHAPTER 3

They had been on the road for most of the day, when the off horse suddenly stopped. Despite a gentle slap of the reins, and a cluck from Jess, the horse did not move. It gave a shiver and then dropped in its traces, causing the near gelding to lean a bit.

Jess jumped down from the buckboard as did Sam. Both ran to the downed horse and knelt beside it. The horse was dead.

"Dad gum, I knew them horses weren't no spring chickens, but I didn't think they were that old."

"They're not," Sam stated, "I checked their teeth and gave them a once over before hiring them."

Jess looked over at her. 'Checked their teeth? Gave them a once over? Really? How many women do that?'

Running her hand sadly along the horse's neck and withers, she continued, "I can't be certain without doing a necropsy, but the way he went down, he might have died of a ruptured aneurism."

With incomprehension, Jess scrutinized her. "Without doing a what? And a ruptured anna what?"

Still looking at the horse, Sam clarified, "Necropsy, an autopsy, dissecting an animal to determine what caused the death. An aneurism is a locally enlarged and thereby weakened part of a blood vessel. If it's a major vessel, an animal can bleed out and die in an instant."

Jess just stared at Sam. Then his focus returned to where hers was, on the dead horse.

Several silent moments passed. Finally Jess said, "Guess that cuts it. We gotta head back."

Sam leaped to her feet, momentarily towering over Jess. "No way. We go on."

"Look lady, there ain't no way one horse can get us AND all your STUFF any further. We've gotta leave your stuff here. We've gotta go back. You can ride the horse. I'm guessin' you CAN ride, can't ya?" Jess stood up, now towering over her.

"Yes, I can ride, but we are NOT leaving my 'stuff' as you call it. This is valuable medical supplies. I'm pressing on. With or without you." Sam looked hard at Jess, who returned her stare with equal animosity.

Several moments passed as they each tried to stare the other one down.

Finally, she broke off the contest. Turning to look at the remaining horse, she remarked, "Look. He's still in good shape. We can rig a travois and load at least some of my 'stuff' on it. We can both walk." Glancing up into his eyes with a challenge, "I presume you CAN walk 'can't ya'?" mimicking his dialect.

Jess stiffened, gaining an inch in height. "Yeah, I can iffin I have ta. But I ain't seein' no need. I think we should turn back."

"We're not that far west from Wheatland. I know this country," Sam continued. "If we head straight north over the hills we'll reach Douglas in no time. Couldn't do it with the buckboard. But with the horse and travois we can."

Jess wavered. It was her money and therefore her call. She saw his uncertainty, so added, "And that's what I aim to do. If you come with me, I'll pay you the second half due. If not, and you turn back, then I'll ask Mister Sherman to refund the half I've already paid."

That did it. Jess felt he was over the proverbial barrel. After a moments hesitation he conceded, "Alright. We'll try it your way."

33

Jess had begun to fashion a travois, while Samantha started unhitching the remaining horse. The gelding was taking exception, being rather unnerved by his teammate literally lying down on the job. The animal started to bolt, but before Jess could react, Samantha had quieted the beast.

"Easy there big fella. You're in good hands. Sad about your friend there, but you still have us," she murmured while rubbing his head. The horse responded to her touch and gave her a slight nudge. She smiled.

'Dang, she's almost purty when she smiles. Good with horses too. Guess she can't be all bad.' Jess moved her up from the ugly side of average to the not-so-ugly side of average.

Samantha proceeded to peruse her belongs deciding what to take and what would have to be left behind. Even she realized, although reluctantly so, that they couldn't take it all on this trip. Hopefully she could return later and retrieve the rest in the not too distant future.

As sundown was rapidly approaching, they set up camp for another night. Jess grabbed his rifle. "Gonna see if I can rustle us up some dinner." He looked over at her, "Only rabbits, mind you, only rabbits."

333

It was early in the morning when they started off again. But this time they headed off the road, straight north into the hills. Doc Sam was not lying when she said she knew the area. She directed the horse, with Jess following, backpacking a few items Sam indicated were too fragile for the horse-drawn travois. Jess was impressed that Sam actually seemed to handle and be able to coax the horse along as well as he himself could have.

'Course I ain't had the opportunity since she just HAS to do it all herself,' he thought rather grudgingly, 'Damn, she's a Doc, sure, but how about lettin' a man do a man's job.' The trail was relatively easy. At least at first. But it became less defined and more difficult as the day wore on. And even more difficult the following day.

Early in the afternoon of that second day, an area of loose shale suddenly gave way beneath the horse's hooves causing him and the travois to slip sideways and backwards. Sam, unable to stop the descent, watched as the travois slammed into Jess, knocking him off the trail and into some large rocks. Giving only a cursory glance at Jess, Samantha reached the quaking horse, and quickly ran a hand down his legs. 'Good. Still seems sound.'

Jess meantime was rising with some difficulty from amidst the rocks. As he stepped out on his right foot, a searing bolt of pain shot up his leg. 'Damn! What I'd do to that ankle; sure hurts to blue blazes! I smell alcohol and somethin' funny. Dreamin' I'm in the Doc's office already?' But as he stepped fully back on to the path, he felt a wetness running down his back, 'Aw, hell.'

Sam, having quieted the gelding, turned and gave Jess her full attention. Her mouth dropped open as she saw the box still strapped to Jess's back. It was smashed and leaking. "What the….! How could you be so careless! You KNEW that was fragile!"

"Me? If you'd let me lead the damn horse, like ya shoulda, none of this woulda happened!"

"Oh, right. Now you're a horse expert. You don't even check their teeth before you hire them out."

"Look lady…" as he approached her, Sam noticed his limp.

"Are you hurt?" her tone slightly less caustic.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Said so didn't I," Jess snapped.

"Okay then," she shot back, "We've wasted enough time. And YOU'VE just destroyed some precious medicinal solutions, including what little alcohol I packed," she glared at him.

Jess returned her glare, 'Real sorry 'bout the alcohol; being around you makes me crave some: straight Red Eye and lots of it.'

3333

The rest of the afternoon was sheer agony for Jess. Each step he took sent the same stabbing pain up his leg. He tried favoring the ankle; however, anytime Sam looked his way he toughed it out and lost the limp. Jess knew his leg needed tending, but was in no mood to show any sign of weakness. ' 'Sides, ain't no way I'm lettin' that wasp anywhere near my leg.' As the day wore on, sweat rolled off him despite the chill in the air. It was becoming sheer torture to put weight on his injured ankle.

After a particularly difficult incline, Jess was the one to call a halt for the day. His leg had had more than enough. Sam was reluctant to stop but finally agreed. She was tired, and they had both noticed a small pond nearby.

As Jess made camp the stress of the last several days was telling on both of them. Jess had slept little the last several nights and now his ankle was a throbbing misery. Although Sam had slept, the days of climbing were telling on her. They snapped at each other every chance they got.

"So where do we head from here?" asked Jess, having long since acquiesced to her bossy, know-it-all guidance. 'Ain't worth fightin' her,' he'd thought, 'Too damn ornery.'

Doc Sam slowly turned in a circle, "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure."

"What?" snapped Jess, "I thought ya said ya knew this country. You tellin' me you're lost?"

"I didn't say I knew every square foot, did I?" she scowled at Jess, "We're heading in the right direction. Still going uphill, which means we're heading north. More or less."

"More or less? More or less? What the hell is that supposed to mean! Aw…ya wouldn't recognize a damn hole in the ground if ya was to fall in it."

"Well you're certainly no great example of a guide. Couldn't even track one horse from what I was told. And you're sure no fun to travel with either. You still use foul language and you're WAY overdue for a bath."

"Ain't no Sunday picnic being around you neither," Jess spat out.

"Would you PLEASE stop with the double negatives."

"The double what?"

"The double negatives. When you say two negatives they cancel each other out. So when you say "ain't no" picnic you are actually saying there IS a picnic."

"Huh?"

"It's driving me CRAZY!" Sam added.

'It is, now is it?' Jess wore an evil smirk, which she missed since he had his back to her as he squatted to tend the campfire. 'Gottcha!'

Now having something to take his mind off the fearsome pain in his ankle, Jess went whole heartedly after her, "So ya ain't got no likin' for my way a talkin'. I thought ya were a Doc and not no English teacher."

Sam gave forth a strangled cry and retreated to the far side of the camp.

Jess yelled after her, "I've got these here beans nice and hot. But iffin ya don't not want 'em, I'll just have to be a tossin' 'em out. Hate to see good grub not no way being a use to a body. Some folks just ain't got no good sense. Ya reckon?" Despite the persistent pain in his leg, Jess wore a feral smile as he looked over at his adversary.

But Samantha wasn't listening. With hands over both ears, she had her head buried deep in her bed roll.

CHAPTER 4

When Jess finally turned in for the night, he left his boots on, fearing that once removed, he wouldn't be able to get the right one back on. Sleep was again long in coming, but once it did Jess slept deeply, possibly due to the sleep deprivation he'd been experiencing. For whatever reason, it took him much longer than was his wont to awaken. An unearthly, animalistic scream, followed by earthly human cussing finally tore him from his slumber. In attempting to stand, he discovered his spurred boots were firmly ensnared in his bedroll. Jess reached frantically for his gun, but as he continued to struggle with the recalcitrant blanket, the gun sailed out of his hand and into the hot embers of the fire. Giving forth a string of expletives, he finally untangled himself. After burning fingers on both hands, he gave up hope of retrieving the gun; it was already scorching hot.

Rising to his feet he sought out the hellish commotion. What he found momentarily stopped him in his tracks. A huge grizzly was standing over what was left of their hobbled horse. Sam was trying to beat off the beast with a long, but puny stick. The grizzly had finally had enough of her ineffectual lashing and was just turning to add her to his menu.

As the bear lunged, so did Jess. Throwing himself between the grizzly and Sam, he drew the only weapon he had – his boot knife. The knife was good for gutting fish and skinning rabbits. Not so good for killing grizzlies. Jess knew it and so did the bear. He jabbed the knife at the bear, but to minimal effect. The grizzle swiped at him, opening several long deep gashes on Jess's right side. Showing his full set of teeth, the grizzle went for Jess. Leaning towards his injured right side saved Jess, as the animal's jaws missed their intended target - his head and neck. Instead the bear bit down hard on Jess's left shoulder. He let out a tortured cry as the bear lifted him off his feet and shook him like a rag doll.

Time seemed to stand still for Jess as he was suspended several feet off the ground. He repeatedly jabbed the knife into the bear. At least he thought it was into the bear; his tormented shoulder made it hard for him to focus. Space and time were blurring as he slipped into a black mist of pure agony. Jess heard a single shot, as if from a far distance. Then he was falling. There was another sound, like a large tree branch had cracked. He momentarily felt an excruciating pain in his lower left leg. And finally a crushing weight that took him to the ground. His head snapped back. Then there was oblivion.

44

Samantha dropped the rifle and ran to Jess. She could only see a bit of him as the grizzly's body lay on top. What she could see wasn't good. She had to get the bear off him. She struggled to move the animal, but to no avail. 'Think, think,' she told herself, 'You're smart, you're educated. THINK! Damn you!' Her mind whirled for several moments. A winch; leverage! She ran back to the supplies stored by the campfire. Finding a rope she grabbed it and returned to the nightmarish scene. A pool of blood was expanding under the two bodies. Samantha hoped it was more bear than human. Throwing the end of the rope over a large overhanging tree branch, she tied a noose around the bear's head. Retreating to the end of the rope hanging from the limb, she pulled with all her might. The bear only lifted a few inches.

'Need more leverage.' Her tomboy days stood her in good stead as she shimmied up the tree, and ran the rope over yet another limb. She jumped down and again hauled on the rope. This time the bear lifted higher. After quickly tying the rope around the base of the tree, she ran and pulled Jess free.

'Damn, he's a mess!' The blood had not been all the bear's. An artery on Jess's shoulder had been torn and it was pumping out blood with every beat of his heart. Sam tore off part of her shirt and used it as a pad to stem the blood flow. One handed, she undid his belt, pulled it free, and used it as a make-shift strap to hold the compress on the wound. Taking a quick survey she noted the deep claw marks on his side and that his lower leg might be broken. Those could wait. It was the artery that needed tending. She ran back to her stores, retrieved needed supplies, and with only a prayer, moon light and an early dawn she plied her trade in an attempt to save the man who had saved her life.

444

It was late afternoon by the time Sam was able to rest. She had repaired the artery, stitched the wounds in his side, and set his leg as best she could. The leg setting had been difficult. Jess wasn't a real large man, but he was definitely well muscled; including his leg. She had to wedge her foot in his crotch to get the leverage she needed to pull the leg into place. Although unconscious, he'd let forth a heart-piercing sob.

"Sorry," she'd whispered. Sam wasn't sure if it had been his leg or the abuse to his privates that had hurt him more.

She was bone tired. Indeed well past bone tired. Her eyes started to close, her head to droop, but then she heard him groan. Her eyes snapped open and she leaned over him. Jess's eyes slowly opened. She hadn't noticed before, but he had exceptionally long, thick lashes. 'What a thing to notice now.' His eyes were glazed and he looked around a moment before fixing on her face. "Hi" she said, 'That's a pretty inane first thing to say to someone who saved your life.'

He just looked at her. "Bear?" he whispered.

"Yes, there was a bear. Between you and me, we finished him off."

"Horse?" Jess queried.

Sam paused before admitting, "Before we finished off that bear, he finished off the horse."

Jess gave a slow half nod and closed his eyes. She waited several minutes, but his eyes remained shut. She checked him. 'Heart rate's a bit fast, and his breathing's rather shallow, but at least he still has both,' she thought. Her eyes finally drifted shut and she slept.

4444

In the middle of the night she was awakened by a groan. She again checked her patient. 'Heart rate elevated, breathing rapid and shallow, and face hot to the touch.' She cursed that she'd not had time to properly sterilize all her instruments. Damn the frontier. Was it really worth throwing herself back into this waste land? She'd been warned against it. Maybe she should have listened. She swabbed down his face with a bandana soaked in cool water. She then laid it across the back of his neck. He seemed to quiet. After a bit she drifted off to sleep again.

44444

It was full daylight when Samantha awoke. She shifted her position on the hard ground. Turning her head towards her patient, she was shocked to see startling blue eyes staring at her. For a moment, she feared they were unseeing, but then Jess blinked. Although not fully focused, at least he was still alive.

"Hi," she said. 'Is that all I can think to say?' He didn't answer. He blinked again and then his eyes shut. She moved over to him. 'So pale. He's lost an awful lot of blood; maybe more than he can afford.'

Despite her early morning surgery, she feared she was losing him. 'Think. Think. Transfusion?' She knew the procedure, but she also knew it sometimes did more harm than good. Something about incompatibility. 'He and I sure haven't been compatible but that doesn't mean our blood won't be.' But how was she to do it by herself. 'Come on, girl. You're a Fuller. You can do this.'

She retrieved two large bore needles, some tubing and some clamps from her "stuff" as she had begun to think of it. She didn't mind needles, at least not when sticking them into others. But she hated needles being stuck into herself. 'Pony up, girl. Just do it.' She found her vein, and with just a slight quiver to her hand, got the needle in. She let the blood run out the end of the attached tube before clamping it. Finding Jess's vein was harder than she thought. Wasn't much flowing through his, and she was working with less than two good hands and arms. Finally getting the needle in, she attached the tubing and stood over her patient.

'OK. Now, how much is enough? Too much? Too little? Either way won't be good for one or the other of us.' She started feeling woozy. She wasn't sure whether it was from the loss of her own blood or from looking at the needle in her arm. 'That's it. At least we tried.' She withdrew both needles, applying pressure until both she and Jess showed no signs of bleeding. Closing her eyes, she slumped forward. Whether she passed out or fell asleep, she was never quite sure.

444444

'Is it the same day?' she wondered, as she rolled over to look at her patient. She was again surprised to see him staring at her. This time there seemed to be a bit more life in those blue orbs. "Hi," Jess rasped.

Sam helped him take a few swallows from the canteen. "Hi, yourself. How are you feeling?"

"Like a bear tried to eat me."

Sam smiled at him, "Indeed he surely tried."

"I remember hearing a shot. Did you shoot him?"

"Yes. I'm a pretty good shot."

"Glad a that."

As she moved towards him, Jess noted the bandage on her inner arm. "He get you, too?" he asked, concern obvious in his voice.

Glancing down at her arm, Sam replied with a faint smile, "No. Felt like becoming a blood brother with a patient of mine."

Jess looked quizzically at her before closing his eyes and drifting off.

Sam checked him. 'Heart and breathing rates down. Color, although less than ideal, much better than before.' "Guess at least our blood is compatible," she said softly looking at him as if for the first time. His slender face was actually quite handsome, and the stubble on his chin just added to his masculinity. 'Masculinity,' she mused, 'Yes, Jess Harper is certainly a man. Not many men, at least not those I've encountered over the years, would have willingly thrown themselves between me and an attacking grizzly. Hell, most of them would have thrown me TO the grizzly while they ran the other way.' Her eyes roved down his body. Even with multiple wrappings and one leg in a brace, his broad shoulders and lean hips were still obvious. 'He's sure got a lot of muscle on that lean frame. And all in the right places. Enough! Exactly where do you think you're going with that line of thought, DOCTOR? Stop daydreaming. Time to get some food into him, and yourself.' She looked at his pistol, which she'd retrieved earlier from the dead campfire. 'Still need to clean that.' Picking up the rifle, she headed down to the pond.

4444444

It was afternoon when Jess awoke to the smell of roasting meat. It smelled good. He was hungry. He tried to rise up on his elbow only to discover excruciating pains in his shoulder, his side, his leg and weirdly enough his crotch. 'Damn. That bear sure did a number on me. What part of me don't hurt?' At first he thought maybe his head was okay. But nope, it too hurt. With his right hand, he gingerly fingered a painful knot on the back of his head.

Turning his head, Jess could see Samantha working a spit over the fire. Looking over at him and seeing him awake, she left the fire and came over.

"Smells good," he stated. "Rabbit?"

"No, goose."

He stared at her. "Thought ya didn't hold with killing geese."

"Normally, I don't. But broth made from goose is better than that made from rabbit and you need it. Besides, he was a loner. Mate must have been already killed off."

"Oh," was all Jess could say. He was still bone tired. Despite being hungry, his eyes again drifted shut.

As the first snowflakes began to fall, a lone goose flew up from the pond, giving up a hauntingly lonely cry. It circled a few times, and then returned to the pond. Samantha watched as the goose settled on the water. She looked at its mate roasting on the spit. She looked at Jess. Damn, her stubborn pride had screwed things up again. They were a long way from getting anywhere any time soon, if ever. Her chin dropped to her chest and she wept. She wept for her parents, for her lost love, for her brother, for Jess, and for the lone goose.

CHAPTER 5

The following day brought heavy snow and bitterly cold winds. Samantha had constructed a lean-to of sorts, to keep the worst of the weather off Jess and herself. During the previous evening and night she had gotten Jess to take most of the broth she'd made as well as some of the roasted goose. That morning she had returned to the pond with the rifle and rejoined the lone goose to its mate. 'No more sentimentality,' she reasoned, 'This is survival. Pure and simple.'

Jess was making good progress. 'Probably will make a full recovery; at least he would if we were in a city, or a town, or even on a farm. He seems to have a willing spirit. Has to have, considering all those scars.' While tending to his injuries, Sam had noticed burn marks on his hands and forearms and several roundish scars suggesting he'd stopped more than his fair share of bullets. Even had one right over his sternum. 'That had to be a close one; mighty near the heart if it had penetrated through the bone.' Subtle lines on his back spoke to her of one or more whippings in his past. She suspected he hadn't always been on the right side of the law considering faint marks still evident on his wrists and even what possibly was an old rope burn on his neck. "You sure haven't had an easy life, have you," she whispered.

He groaned as he awoke. She leaned over him. "Hi."

"Hi, yourself," he croaked. With Samantha's help, he took a few swallows from the canteen.

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess. I've felt worse." As he glanced around, he noted the make shift lean-to. "You do all this?"

"Yeah."

Jess then espied the ever increasing snow drifts accumulating outside. "Hey. Might be time we start getting back on the trail, don't ya think?"

"No, I don't think. You're not in any shape to do much traveling."

"Hey, I ain't no…" Jess paused, "I ain't a baby. Come on. Help me up and we'll be on our way." He started to lever himself up, only to fall back with agonizing stabs of pain in his shoulder and leg. His eyes squeezed shut and his lips drew back in a grimace as he waited for the pain to ease.

"See what I mean," she said.

"It ain't no…." pause, "Ain't a picnic, but at least my ankle don't hurt like it used ta."

"That's because it's had some rest. Why didn't you tell me you'd injured it?

"Aw, was nothin' really," Jess didn't want to mention the real reason: that he hadn't trusted her. 'Not good thoughts for the Doc who most likely saved your worthless hide.'

Steering the conversation away from murky waters Jess added, "My side's not hurting as bad neither. Sorta itches now. Kinda weird though. I still hurt…ah….in my privates," he murmured, averting his eyes.

Sam turned away so he wouldn't see her smirk. "That bear sure knocked you around some; and that's a fact."

"Yeah, reckon he did."

Turning back to him she added, "That itching is a good sign. Means the lacerations are healing."

"If you say so." After a pause, Jess queried, "What are lassie whatcha called it, anyway?"

"Lacerations. That means cuts."

"You sure do use some fancy words for simple things."

"Yes, I guess I do," Samantha smiled. After several moments, she quietly asked, "Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Jump in between the bear and me."

"You serious? What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and watch old Grizz have at ya?"

"Some folks might have."

"Well, I ain't some folks. Might not of had a lot of schooling, but I know right from wrong, and a man standing by doin' nothin' when a woman is in danger is just plumb wrong." Jess had a determined look, and there was more than a little anger and indignation in his tone of voice.

Samantha regarded him, 'Simple, but such strongly-held beliefs. There's a lot more to you, cowboy, than I first thought. So why didn't the good Lord make more men like you. Maybe he did. Maybe it's worth coming back to the frontier if He put them all out here. But no; it's the WILD frontier. Lot of scoundrels and evil men, even out here. Suspect you're a rare breed indeed, Jess Harper.' "You know, I have to act the way I do just to get by in this world. But it's just that – an act; at least most of the time."

"I don't quite follow."

"My bossy, stuck-up behavior. Particularly when I'm traveling. Have to act that way or no one will take me seriously. Not easy being a female Doctor. Besides, if I didn't act that way, and push people away, I'd be swallowed up. Do you understand?"

"Reckon, I do. At least partly."

"Good. I just wanted you to know." She wasn't quite sure WHY she wanted him to know, but it was important to her that he did.

Deep silence prevailed for a while. Jess finally asked quietly, "Tell me about your brother. I'd like to hear about him, if you've a mind to share."

Samantha gazed long at Jess, but saw only open, heart-felt concern in his eyes. "He was a good man. Pride of my folks. Mama passed away trying to give Papa another child. I was only 8 then. Papa took to the bottle after Mama died. Wasn't much good to us after that. Danny, that was my brother, he pretty much raised me. He was always there for me." She smiled warmly at the memory, and Jess saw beauty in her face. "But then the war came," she went on, "Danny enlisted and was killed." She looked at Jess, and he dropped his gaze. "After that I enlisted."

Jess's head shot up, "You what? How? As a nurse?"

"No, as a soldier. You might not have noticed but I don't have the most womanly figure; was even less so back then." She shrugged, "Easy to pass myself off as a boy. All I wanted was to get in there and kill as many Rebs as I could." She paused, looking away from Jess and down at her hands. "But then I got assigned to the prisoner-of-war camp at Alton." Samantha, still gazing down at her hands, failed to see Jess's head snap up.

"That changed everything. It was horrible. No one, not even the vilest of men, should have to live like that. They were terribly mistreated, and punished way beyond human decency for minor infractions."

Jess stared at her. "I know. I was there." Sam's eyes shot up and met his. The anger and pain in his eyes made her drop her gaze.

"Guess the war didn't do either of us any good," she whispered.

"No. Don't reckon it did."

The pure white snow continued to silently fall as they each were lost in memories not so white and not so silent.

55

They shared the same bedroll at night to conserve body heat. During one restless night, Jess called out, waking both himself and Samantha.

"You OK, Jess?"

"Yeah, just having some nightmares."

"About the war?"

"Yeah, about the war. And some other things."

"I've heard you call out for Slim before. You two have different last names so I thought you just worked for him. Are you two close?"

"About as close as brothers can be. That's how I think of him: as my brother. I reckon he sees me the same way. At least I hope he does."

Samantha detected a slight degree of doubt in Jess's voice. "He did speak very highly of you when he recommended you." She did not elaborate on what she had said during that meeting.

"Really? What did old Hardrock say about me?"

"He said he'd trust you with his life." She figured a little embellishment might be good for Jess. Besides, she had the feeling Slim really did think that highly of him. She now did.

"Well, I'll be…," Jess felt a warmth that didn't come from Samantha's closeness. He pulled her tighter to him. She was nestled against his side. Suddenly he felt a different kind of warmth that was indeed due to her proximity. "Aw hell," he murmured.

"What did you say?" she asked half turning her head towards him.

"Aw, nothin'." Wanting to switch the subject quickly and get his mind on other things, Jess asked, "I've heard you say Steve in your sleep. He another brother?"

Samantha stiffened, pulling away from Jess. "NO," she said harshly, "And I don't want to talk any longer. I'm tired and I want to sleep. Goodnight." She had turned full face away from Jess. Bitter tears stung her eyes.

Jess sensed that Doc Sam had just pulled away from him emotionally as well as physically. His ardor died as quickly as it had arisen.

'Damn. Will I ever get to know this woman? Or at least not keep rubbing her the wrong way?' His shoulder, leg and side still bothered him considerably, but he was used to physical pain. He could take it. Always had. But emotional pain. That was different. Too hard. One reason he'd avoided close attachments and been a loner most of his life; at least before arriving at the Sherman ranch.

In his mind's eye, he again saw the Canadian geese winging up from the pond. They were undeniably wild and free. But they didn't travel solo. Always in groups, and thinking back on Doc Sam's words, the geese made life-long partnerships. Jess had found in Slim a true friend, hopefully life-long, though he wasn't sure at the moment how long that might be. With Slim's friendship, he'd discovered emotional pain was a whole sight easier to handle when you had someone to share it with. Jess glanced down at Doc Sam. He sensed emotional pain in her. Jess wished she would share with him. 'Might ease her some. Maybe another time, another place. If there's gonna be either. Nothin' I can do about it till she lets me.' His mind drifted to the conversation Doc Sam said she had with Slim. Remembering Slim's words, Jess closed his eyes, smiled, and drifted off into a more peaceful sleep.

CHAPTER 6

'Wonder why Slim stoked the fire. Already hot enough to put a Texas summer to shame.' Jess, coming to full consciousness, looked around the empty lean-to. 'Guess Doc Sam's out huntin' again.' The back corner of the shanty was sagging. Pulling himself into a sitting position, despite the protest from both his shoulder and his leg, he scooted over to the drooping section. The main supporting post had shifted, so Jess gave it a good shove to reset it, only to have an agonizing pain rip through his shoulder. "AAAUUGH…."

"Just WHAT do you think you're doing?" Samantha queried, having just returned empty-handed from her hunting expedition.

"What's it look like. I'm fixing up the place. Can't be lyin' around all day, lettin' a woman do all the work," Jess gave her a lop-sided grin.

"You're red as a beet and sweating."

"I'm fine. Just a little warm today."

Samantha glanced back at the knee-deep snow, "Right. Okay, let me have a look at you."

Reluctantly, Jess let Doc Sam redress the wounds on his side and the front of his shoulder.

"These look okay. Now let me check the bite wound on your back."

Jess leaned obligingly forward, but as Samantha took off the dressing he hissed through clenched teeth, "Take it easy, will ya."

Sam took a sharp intake of breath as she saw the swollen red tissue surrounding the wounds. "Jess this doesn't look too good."

"Do what ya gotta do and be done with it. I'll be fine."

"All the bleeding you did, cleansed the bite wounds on the front of your shoulder. But these back ones are badly infected. I'd have cleaned them with alcohol; if I'd had any alcohol."

"Well, why don't ya have some? You're a Doc ain't ya? Supposed to carry supplies."

"The box got smashed. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah." 'Sure is hot today; must be why my mind's so fuzzy.'

"I'll have to cauterize the puncture wounds. And I don't have any chloroform or other pain reliever. You know what that means?"

Jess's mind suddenly cleared. He knew exactly what it meant, and he went a little pale despite his fever.

"As I said, do what ya gotta do," he swallowed hard. "Here." Withdrawing the knife from his boot, he flipped it, relinquishing it handle first to Sam.

Looking deep into Jess's eyes, Sam took the proffered weapon, turned and stuck it into the glowing embers of their camp fire.

As the knife heated, Jess lay down on his stomach, giving Samantha free access to his wounded back. "I'll try to be still."

Samantha gave a weak smile, "I know you will. Take this to bite down on; might help some."

Jess took the piece of wood and put it between his teeth.

Retrieving the knife from the coals, she asked, "You ready?"

Jess closed his eyes and nodded. He had already started biting down hard on the stick, anticipating what he was about to endure.

True to his word, Jess tried to be still, but as she laid the white-hot instrument on his flesh, he writhed, wadding the underlying bedroll tightly with both fists. Hot tears stung his eyes and his breath came in short pain-filled gasps. A long agonized moan escaped his throat, but Samantha held fast. The smell of burning tissue was overwhelming. She wanted to stop the torture she was inflicting, but knew Jess's life might well depend on her persevering.

Finally it was over. Jess lay still, glistening with sweat.

"Jess, are you okay?"

"I'm…fine…" he gasped.

"You and I sure have different definitions for 'fine'," Sam breathed.

'Slim's always sayin' somethin' like th…' passed through Jess's mind as he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

CHAPTER 7

"Look. It's time ya headed outta here. I ain't gonna be fit to travel for some time and we both know it. You're a good shot but pickin's gettin' pretty poor. You can send back help ta get me," Jess urged. Although he had recovered from the ordeal of the cauterization, his wounds were far from fully healed. The snow had been drifting deeper daily. If Samantha was going to have any chance of getting out, she had to go, and go soon.

"I'm not used to leaving a patient. Bad for business," she gave a wan smile. She was indeed tired, and hungry. They'd finished off most of their provisions two days ago. She had hunted, but there was nary a goose, rabbit or deer to be had. She could kick herself for not cutting up the bear for meat when she'd had the chance. Scavengers had long since picked that carcass clean. She'd have shot the scavengers given half a chance. But they too seemed to have vanished into the white wasteland.

She knew Jess spoke the truth. She also knew, as he did, that she didn't stand a very good chance to get out herself, much less send back help for him. But perhaps it was indeed time to try. No one had come looking for them. Or if they had, they were looking in all the wrong places. Slim probably figured the snows had made Jess hole up in Douglas. Folks expecting to see Samantha turn up in Douglas, likewise probably figured she was waiting out the snows in Laramie or points east. No. If they were going to get out, it now lay on her shoulders. Jess couldn't travel and she sure couldn't carry him. Even with the travois they wouldn't make it very far. He was too heavy and she was too weak. 'Heck of a time to have to admit it,' Sam thought.

"I'll be fine. You've made us a nice little place here," he smiled up at her.

She appraised him. He had been lean when they first started on this trek, but now he was almost gaunt. 'You haven't been eating your fair share. Always saying you're not hungry and that I should have the lion's portion since I do most of the work. And Lord forgive me, I was hungry and did eat your share.'

She continued to contemplate Jess, 'Still quite handsome, though.' Samantha didn't mind the stubble, now quite long on his face, or even his dirty clothes. Perhaps he smelled more now, but undoubtedly so did she. Besides sense of smell tends to wane after a bit. And the few times she had noted a horsey, leathery, man-sweat on him, it attracted rather than repelled her. 'Get yourself together girl. This is neither the time nor the place to start getting romantic notions.'

Jess likewise had found Samantha more enticing over the last several days. When they slept in spoon fashion to keep warm, his body had started to respond despite his various pains and discomforts. It was not just because she was a woman, but because she was Samantha. 'Enough,' Jess scolded himself, 'This ain't the time or the place.'

"Okay. You may be right. It may be time," Samantha said softly.

Jess's eyebrows shot up. "You mean I'm actually right for once? And you admit it?"

She laughed, "Yeah, but only this once."

"Have you ever worn snow shoes?" Jess asked.

"No. I've seen them used, and have an idea how they work. But I've never had the occasion to use them."

"Lady, this just might be the occasion."

Under Jess's direction, Samantha gathered suitably-sized small branches and vines. Jess insisted on being the one to bend the twigs, though Sam noted the grim set to his lips and occasional sharp intake of breath as his still-healing shoulder protested the abuse. He did let her thread the vines through the scaffolding, until working together, they'd fashioned a reasonable pair of snow shoes.

It was tough learning how to use them. Sam took a number of ungraceful falls. Despite the reawakened fire in his shoulder, Jess couldn't help but laugh at her comical attempts to right herself. "Ya gotta take bigger steps, and keep your legs further apart," he called out to her.

She scowled back at him, but did as he instructed. It was an exhausting way to walk; but far better than slogging through the ever deepening snow. That was even more tiring, as she'd discovered over the last few days as the snow continued to accumulate.

Jess wanted her to take what meager supplies they had, but she refused, figuring the less she carried the quicker she could move. She did take his rifle, leaving the pistol for him. The rifle was more to assure that she didn't end up on something else's menu than the other way around.

She set out the next morning at first light. Snow was lightly falling. She gave one last glance back. Jess was watching her. She waved. He waved back.

As she faded into the mist, he leaned back onto his bedding. 'Reckon that's that. Don't bother about me, Lord, I ain't worth your time; but please let her make it. She's a good woman, even if a bit bossy. But figure You know that.' Jess's thoughts turned to those he'd be leaving behind, 'Sure wish I coulda said good-bye to Slim and Andy. Shucks suspect even Jonesy will miss me if he fesses up to it. Sure know I'll miss them. Would like to think they'd find me come spring and take me back home to the ranch. That family graveyard, overlookin' the ranch would sure be a swell place to be planted. Don't know though how much of me will be left to be found come spring,' Jess closed his eyes, remembering the cowboy's remains they'd found along the trail. 'Shoulder and leg still hurt some but mostly only when I move about. Don't feel like moving much anymore. Suppose that's good. Always figured it'd be a bullet do me in. Guess not. No matter. I've heard tell freezin' to death ain't that bad. Lots worse ways to go. The last few years was sure good. I thank ya Lord for that.' With thoughts of his adopted family, and also of Samantha, drifting through his mind, Jess fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER 8

He became aware of noise, light, and rough hands moving his body. He tried to protest. "Leave me 'lone," but Jess's words came out more as a garbled whisper. He pushed futilely at the rough hands, "Let me be…let me sleep."

"What's he saying?" asked one of the men. "Feisty bugger, considerin' his condition," said another. Without further ado, they lifted him into the waiting sleigh. He moaned as the movement brought renewed pain to his body. Pain that he thought he was done with. As the sleigh began to move, his pain increased and he groaned louder.

"Easy there. You're in good hands. It's going to be alright. You're safe now. You'll be warm soon and have a soft bed and good food." The voice sounded way off, but it was sort of familiar and calming. Small hands brushed the snow off his face. Jess took comfort from both the voice and the touch. He allowed his body and mind to relax. Soft bed. Yeah, that would be nice.

Samantha looked down at Jess. He was still breathing. Maybe they had indeed been in time.

88

Several days later Jess became aware of broth in his mouth. As he came to full consciousness, he gagged and spewed the broth back onto the giver.

"Damn, son. You were easier to feed when you were only half with us." Jess's eye's finally focused on a kindly face, partially drenched in beef broth.

"Who…who…where…?"

"I'm Dr. Smith, and you're in Douglas."

"Sorry," he murmured, noting the broth running down the Doctor's face and on to his shirt. Jess suddenly looked desperately around the room. "Samantha?!" he tried to yell, but it came out more like a croak.

"If you mean Dr. Fuller, she's fine, just fine. Oh, she had a bit of frostbite, and was in pretty poor shape when she got to town, but she's all recovered now. Amazing lass. Wouldn't hear of letting us go find you on our own. Had to go with the men. Showed them the way. Good thing too. Doubt we'd of found you otherwise. She also did one heck of a good job stitching you up. Guess she saved your life twice."

With a sigh, Jess leaned back and let the healing arms of sleep encase him once more.

888

Some days later, Doc Smith had Jess sitting up in bed. Jess's nightshirt was off as the Doc examined the healing wounds. He hadn't given much thought about why this Doc was taking care of him rather than Doc Sam. Not having that much experience with female Docs, it occurred to him that maybe men Doctors took care of men folk and women Doctors took care of women folk. At least if the opportunity was there. Doc Sam had stopped by several times, particularly in the first few days of his confinement. But she'd been appearing less and less. Dr. Smith said she was pretty busy with her patients. 'Must be a goodly number of women in this town to keep her this busy,' Jess reflected. As he was feeling better and stronger, Jess thought fleetingly that he should check out the fairer half of the populace. But a certain, somewhat short, rather average, woman kept popping into his mind. 'Enough. She's a Doc. You're just a….what….ex gunslinger….poor ranch hand?' Distracted by his ruminations, he almost missed the Doc's comments. "Yes siree. Doc Fuller did as good a job, or better than I could've done. Amazing what a Vet can do."

This took Jess back a moment. "You mean you know of her being a soldier?" he asked incredulously.

"What the hell are you talking about, son? I mean Vet, as in Veterinarian."

At that moment, Samantha appeared in the doorway. She took in Jess's unclothed torso. It was not a clinical appraisal. 'Hmmm….that cowboy is sure pleasing to the eye; well worth looking at.'

Then she caught Jess's open-mouthed stare. "You're a Vet? A horse doctor? And you worked on me?"

Her hackles immediately raised. "I'll have you know MISTER Harper that it's a damn sight harder for a woman to become a Veterinarian than to become a Physician. We don't even have a real school in this country. Have to go overseas for any decent formal education. And then you have to wade through a whole lot of shit thrown at you by the male students. And we learn the same damn things that medical doctors do, only we have to learn it about ALL species not just one. So yeah, I treat horses, and proud of it. I've also had to treat some damn mean mules and jackasses both four-legged AND two-legged."

Silence filled the room. Doc Smith quietly took a few furtive steps backwards fearing further fireworks. He was a healer not a referee. Never had felt comfortable in any kind of confrontation.

The skin at the corners of Jess's eyes slowly crinkled and a twinkle appeared in his blue eyes. He broke in to a full, if slightly lop-sided, grin. "Such language, Doctor Fuller. I'm surprised at you. But shucks, Doc, I'm sure glad you happened to be there to treat this two-legged jackass."

Samantha's mouth twitched and then formed into a smile. "You're welcome, Jess. And you can call me Sam. Besides, I wouldn't have been there, or here for that matter, if you hadn't saved my life."

"Well, I'm still obliged….Sam." The name felt odd on his tongue. He really wanted to say Doc Sam but wasn't sure how'd she take it. Her friendship had become important to him. He didn't want to lose it. "Still, coming back for me like ya did. That was somethin'."

She had turned to leave, but paused briefly and smiled back at him. "Told you before, bad for business to walk off and leave a patient. Besides," her lips curved into a bigger grin, "Ain't no big deal."

THE END

February 2017

The first official Veterinary Medical School was founded in 1761 in Lyon, France.

The first School in the US, was established in 1852 in Philadelphia, but closed in 1866. Iowa, in 1879, established the first public (state supported) Vet Med School and in 1903 began offering the first 4-year professional program in the US.

Aleen Isobel Cust was the first woman to graduate from a veterinary school: Williams, Edinburgh, Scotland; 1897.

The first woman to graduate from a US Vet Med School was Dr. Mignon Nicholson: McKillip Veterinary College, Chicago; 1903.

Today, women make up more than half the enrollment at the 30 US Vet Med Schools.

The author chose to use the name "Fuller" since she is a descendent of Samuel Fuller (son of Edward Fuller and nephew to Samuel Fuller). Both Samuel (the elder) and Edward with his son Samuel (the younger) arrived in America on the Mayflower. Edward did not survive the first winter, so Samuel, the younger, was raised by his uncle - Samuel, the elder. Samuel, the elder, and Edward were brothers, born in England and sons of Robert Fuller.