A/N: So, this story has been running around in my head for a while now. Clearly, this is inspired by Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman. I thought the characters lined up pretty well between the two shows. If you're familiar with both worlds, you'll see that I took some liberties with characters and plotlines but that's why they call it alternate universe. ;) You'll have to let me know if I did them justice. Please review and let me know what you think. I have a decent idea of where I'm going, but input is always appreciated! :)
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, I'm just making them sing and dance a bit.
The train tracks formed a border that ran along one side of the town. As the train pulled into the station, the engine's smokestack puffed out a cloud of smoke, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that this was a machine of the modern era. There were some buggies lined up beside the station; their drivers waiting expectantly for passengers. Helena looked out her window at the gathering crowd-she felt equally nervous and excited. Maybe she was a pinch more nervous than excited, although she would never let her new neighbors know that.
As Helena stepped down from the train she realized her traveling dress was a bit more formal than what the women around her were wearing. She made a mental note to send a telegram to have some of her more casual pieces sent from Boston. "Ms. Wells!" The sound of her name being shouted broke Helena out of her sartorial reverie.
"Mrs. Cooper! Thank you so much for meeting me here," Helena walked over to the older woman, Charlotte Cooper.
"Call me Charlotte. I remember what it was like when I first showed up to this wasteland called Colorado Springs," Charlotte chuckled as she picked up two of Helena's bags. "Luckily I had my husband with me, so we could kinda muddle through the first years together. Are your trunks in one of the storage cars?"
The change in subject did not escape Helena's attention, but she decided not to push the subject with her new friend. "Yes, but I told the porter to just have them sent over to your boarding house. I hope that wasn't too forward of me."
Charlotte smiled warmly at Helena, "Not at all, not at all. Saves me the backache of cartin' those things around. Let's go get you settled in to your room. I bet you could use a warm bath and a clean bed, hmm?"
***
A couple hours, a bath, and a change of clothes later Helena found herself in the common room of Charlotte's boarding house. She had brought a book and writing materials, preparing to write her first letter from Colorado to her mother back in Boston. She hoped to impress upon her expatriate British mother that her daughter was not simply going through a phase in wanting to move out to the frontier.
"Helena G. Wells, you cannot be serious about this Colorado business. I know you are upset about losing the practice, but this is a might drastic don't you think? Maybe you should take this as a sign to give up practicing medicine and focus on your societal connections."
"Mother, I know you disapprove of my choice but it is my choice to make! You might not want to see more of this country, but I do! I do see this as an opportunity, just not the same kind as you. I hope you have enough faith in me to trust my decision."
That last "conversation" with her mother had left a bitter taste in Helena's mouth. It had also made her more determined to prove to her mother that she could make it outside the confines of their privileged east coast life.
"What's runnin' through that big-brained head of yours Ms. Wells?"
"Please, all my friends call me H.G."
"All right then, H.G. just what are you thinking about?"
Clearing her throat and mind H.G. responded, "I was just thinking about my next steps here. Any ideas?"
Charlotte hesitated just long enough to make H.G. think that her hostess did not quite believe what she had said. "Well, we need to go to Arthur's store and tell him that the ad for town doctor has been answered. While we're there we can pick you up some basic supplies that you're gonna need. I take it that you'll be wantin' your own place soon enough. Then…well, by then we'd better be ready to answer some questions 'cause folks around here are gonna be plenty curious about a lady doctor."
Helena shook her head in disbelief at Charlotte's last statement. "I would have thought people were a little more open to the unconventional out here in the rough-and-tumble west. That's part of the reason I left Boston. After my father's death, his patients left our office because they didn't trust me to run it on my own. I worked with him for 7 years! I don't know if they thought he was just feeding me diagnoses all those years or what."
"Yes and no. Some rules are more flexible out here, you'll find that's especially true at Hank's saloon. Others are still as strong as ever, including women doctors not being typical. The only doctoring women do out here is as a midwife. If you don't need a baby delivered you either go to Jake the barber or you go feet first in a pine box."
Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, H.G. spoke with a confidence that she was not entirely sure she felt. "I'll just have to change their minds then."
Arthur Nielsen's General Store was a far cry from the shops that Helena was used to. If only her friends from Beacon Hill could see her now. They would hate the amount of dust being tracked in and out of the store for a start. The lack of ready-made clothing would also be quite the disappointment. She chuckled to herself thinking about the looks that would be plastered on their faces.
She made her way over to the notice board on the far end of the shop. A sign stating NO INDIANS ALLOWED sat propped on top of the notices. Being ever impulsive, H.G. took the sign down along with the town doctor ad.
"Ma'am, let's just leave that sign where it belongs okay?" A Union soldier said as he took the sign out of H.G.'s hands and put it back from where it came.
Just then H.G. heard two sounds. The first being the squeaking of the store's door. The second being the sharp crack of splitting wood as a tomahawk cleaved the returned sign in two.
Standing in the doorway was one of the oddest sights that H.G. had ever seen in her life. One of the resident Indians was standing next to a woman. Not just any woman either, she was probably the most striking woman Helena had ever seen. It wasn't just her height, the unruly curly hair, or even the emerald green of her eyes. Eyes that at the moment were sparking with anger. No, the most remarkable aspect of this woman was the buckskin pants and shirt she was wearing. Helena enjoyed wearing a pair of trousers every now and again, but she had never seen a white woman in Indian garb, let alone male Indian attire.
It was also clear from her stance that this stunning woman had been the one that threw the tomahawk. She straightened up and walked over to retrieve her weapon. She gave the soldier a dismissive glance that made him think twice about reaching for his revolver. Then turned her head and gave Helena a curt nod before pulling the ax out of the wall and walking out of the store with her Indian friend in tow.
"Who was that?" Helena asked Charlotte as soon as the women climbed into their buggy.
"That. That was Myka Bering. You're not the only woman around here making the town…shall we say, interesting?" Charlotte's response was light, but she frowned slightly as she stared off in the direction that Myka had gone.
As Charlotte got the team started back towards the boarding house Helena smirked, "I do believe proper introductions are in order."
That's it so far! I'm trying to make this one feel more episodic (like a TV show), so some of the endings might seem a bit odd. Let me know if that's too jarring.