"Thanks, Doc." Cal Swensen shook Nathan's hand and then handed him a nickel. The jar of green salve that Nathan had made for him he clutched tightly in his other hand, like it was made of gold. For Cal, it really was more precious than gold. The salve helped ease the aching in his joints and allowed him to do the job he had been doing all his life, being a cowboy.
"No problem, Cal. Just come back when you need more." Nathan smiled at the old cowboy, leading him towards the door of the clinic. He didn't bother to correct the man, knowing it would do no good. As far as Cal Swensen was concerned, Nathan Jackson had long since earned himself the right to be called 'Doc'. Nathan watched as the spry, bowlegged man stepped into the saddle and rode away, before turning back into the house so he could finish tidying up after himself.
The house and the clinic are, which nestled right next to the house, were strangely quiet, Nathan thought, as he wiped down the counter with a rag. He washed his hands in the basin of warm water and then carried it outside, emptying it the barrel he kept just for that purpose. In the desert, you never knew when you might need water so there was no sense in wasting it. Raine or he could always boil it down and use it to water the plants.
Nathan smiled as he thought of his lovely wife, Raine. She had taken the children out to the village that morning and in truth, Nathan was glad for the peace. He loved his family, but there were time when the antics of four children, all under the age of eight, became tiresome. So he planned on taking advantage of the peace while he could.
Nathan finished his cleaning and then headed towards the kitchen of the small house he lived in. He poured himself a cup of coffee before heading out to set in the rocking chair, which is where he had been headed when Cal had shown up. Nathan didn't mind the small interruption. He was simply glad he could help those he needed it with his healing ways.
Nathan sighed as he settled into the rocking chair, sinking down into the surprisingly soft cushions that Raine had added to make the chair more comfortable. He took a sip of his coffee, enjoying the warm beverage. He slowly started rocking, planning on waiting for Josiah and his boy, Sean to arrive with the supplies they were bringing from Four Corners. Nathan could have gone and gotten them, but he knew the pair liked traveling out to visit him and the family.
As he rocked, Nathan looked around at the small plot of land he called home and couldn't help but smile again. Lord, how far his life had changed!
Thirty years ago, he had been nothing more than a white man's piece of property and now, he was a free man.
Nathan took another sip of his coffee, and his thought traveled back to an old slave he had run into, shortly after the war had ended. They had been in a saloon, drinking to celebrate the end of that awful time, and Nathan had been asking the old man how he was enjoying his freedom.
The old man had simply looked at Nathan, his eyes red and tired, his face lined with age and pain. Even now, twenty-five years later, Nathan could still remember what that man had said.
"The man that is truly free, son, is simply a man that has nothing left to lose, nothing left to live for, nothing left to hope for. No dreams, no love, no nothing."
Nathan had scoffed, thinking the man had no idea what he was talking about. He had left the man behind, but it hadn't taken long for Nathan to realize what the man meant. He had spent years searching for his sisters, his father, any of his family, and by the time he had reached Four Corners, Nathan had finally realized exactly what that old man had meant.
Now, though, Nathan had chains holding him down, but they were chains of his own making. He had never really thought of them that way, but that's what they were, chains holding him to Four Corners, to this place and to the people in it.
Sixteen years ago, he had met Josiah, the first chain to bind him to this place. Josiah was the first white man Nathan had ever met that saw Nathan first and the color of his skin second.
He had met Josiah on the trail, where the man had been bleeding from a gunshot wound. Nathan had treated the man and Josiah and him became friends. It was Josiah that convinced Nathan to set up a clinic in Four Corners, introducing him to Mary and Steven Travis. It had been Josiah that helped bring in his first few customers and spread the word of his healing ways. It hadn't taken long before people began showing up on his door looking for help, not seeming to mind the color of his skin.
The second and third chains that bound him to Four Corners had appeared in the form of a dark clad gunslinger and a ex-bounty hunter. Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner had, without even knowing who he was, saved him from a lynching. Nathan had found himself first beholden to them and then, he had found himself riding with them to save the Seminole village from the ex-Confederate raiders. He had found good friends in both men, being proud to ride with them over the years. He was glad both men had opted to stay in Four Corners, especially Vin, who many thought would have left long ago.
That led to the fourth and fifth chains holding Nathan to Four Corners. Buck Wilmington and JD Dunne. Nathan smiled as he took another sip of his now cool coffee. Those two men were tighter than brothers and acted like it, teasing and riling each. But hurt one and the other would come after you like a snarling wolf, ready to kill. Nathan was proud that the pair had allowed them to be part of their circle of brothers, knowing that they would do the same if anyone hurt him, or his family.
The last chain in his line of brothers had strengthened much over the last eight years. At first, Nathan hadn't felt any connection to Ezra, except disdain for a southern man, so like those who use to own slaves. It had seemed like the man had felt the same, and there had been plenty of times when they had gone head to head over Ezra's gambling, his conman ways, his lifestyle.
Nathan sighed, putting his now empty cup on the ground. He had finally reached a point in his life where he could admit that his younger self had often been a pompous, self righteous fool. He hated the idea of prejudice in others but failed to see it in himself, but he had been prejudiced, especially against Ezra.
Funny thing, but it had taken the arrival of the new Eastern Doctor for Nathan to recognize his own failings. And to learn the truth behind Ezra's hurtful comments that first day.
A few weeks after the doctor's arrival, Ezra had been shot by a fella rustling cattle. When the other six men had tried to take him to the new doctor's clinic, the man fought them, going nearly hysterical. He refused to let anyone other than Nathan treat him, saying he would let Buck take care of him first before letting that quack near him. So Nathan had treated the wound. When Ezra had healed, Nathan asked him why he refused the services of a real doctor. He would have thought the southerner would have been pleased to finally be treated by someone other than an ex-slave.
That's when Ezra told him the real reason why he had nearly refused to ride with the others that day. Not because of the color of Nathan's skin. He had no problems with Nathan being an ex-slave, in fact, Ezra had never owned slaves and neither had his family. Instead, it was Nathan's profession that nearly turned Ezra away. Turns out, during the war, when Ezra had broken his arm, a quack surgeon, rather than try to heal the arm, decided to amputate.
He had knocked Ezra out with laudanum and then started to saw away. Luckily for Ezra, the doctor got his dosages wrong and he had woken up at the first bite of the saw. He had nearly killed the doctor and ended up having a fellow soldier set the arm. That action made him distrust doctors, at least until he met Nathan.
Nathan leaned back, thinking of how he wished he had known that story earlier but wondering if he would have believed it. He had surely been set in his ways, at least until that doctor had arrived. Amazing how something that simple can knock a man down.
Healing was another chain that had bound him to Four Corners and when the doctor had arrived, he had felt that chain being cut. Yeah, he was a peacemaker also, but healing was in his blood. Josiah, though, had seen the way the wind was blowing and had led Nathan towards the village.
He had been right. That damn fancy doctor refused to treat the villagers, not wanting to soil his hands. Prejudice was another chain that wrapped around Nathan, one he wished didn't exist.
Nathan sighed deeply. He was free, that was the truth, but the color of his skin would always mark him as different. He had heard the rumblings and whispers in the town, and in the village too. Sometimes, he wondered if he had done the right thing, tying himself to Raine. His children would always be bound by the chains of prejudice, neither truly Negroes or Seminoles. Some of the younger warriors were already teasing Obadiah about not being a true warrior. And would the girls ever find a husband among either race?
Nathan had seen the results of prejudice, in the lynching and beatings in the south. And even here. He would never tell Buck, fearing how he would respond, but he truly believed that the 'doctor' had treated Inez with such disdain because she had been Mexican. He had never heard tell of the doctor using mud and grease to stop a woman's post-birth bleeding before or since.
But then, Nathan didn't have much to do with the town doctor's patients. The man treated the well-to-do men and woman in town, along with the newly arrived. While he treated nearly everyone else. Nathan sighed again, this time a little happier. He couldn't do anything about the prejudice of the townspeople or the town doctor but, in one way, he was glad that damn chain existed. Because it did, it allowed him to continue doing the job he loved, in the town he was tied irrevocably to.
Yeah, Nathan thought as he spied Sean and Josiah coming down the rutted path, he may have chains holding him down. But, for the most part, they were chains of his own making. And he wouldn't break any of them.