Spoilers: No real spoilers, since this fic takes place in an Old West setting, but you will find allusions to several Emergency episodes throughout the fic, especially the pilot episode, "The Wedsworth-Townsend Act." :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Emergency, but when an Emergency plot bunny moseyed over in a cowboy hat, I just couldn't resist.

A/N: I carefully researched both the Old West and the Civil War to try to make this fic feel realistic, but I'm not aiming for absolute accuracy in everything. Essentially, my goal has been to make it feel like something that could have happened, rather than something that actually did. So, please take any inaccuracies as artist license. :) Also, I couldn't resist a few small nods to the old Western television shows and movies, so you might see a little bit of Hollywood flare once in a while.

A/N2: I started working on this fic months ago, and I wasn't expecting it to take quite so long - or to turn out as long as it did, lol. My dear friend, NatalieGH, has been a great support and encouragement when I battled with some of the really stubborn chapters, and it just so happens that I am posing this on her birthday. So, happy birthday, NatalieGH! I hope you have an awesome day! *hugs*

As always, I thank my Lord Jesus Christ for his incredible mercy and grace and his many blessings. I would be utterly lost without him.

I hope you enjoy this, and please let me know what you think!

If you see anything marked with an asterisk (*), it will have an historical or content note at the bottom of the page with more information. The information will be listed in order of appearance. You don't have to read the notes for the fic to make sense, but I wanted to offer the information anyway, for anyone who might enjoy some more detail about the subjects mentioned. :)


Frontier Medicine

Chapter 1: The Cure for What Ails You

Los Angeles County, California, mid August, 1868

Dust was everywhere.

That wasn't unexpected in the desert, though, and from what Dixie had said in her letters, it had been an especially dry year on top of it.

It showed.

The wagon and the horses kicked up large plumes along the rugged path other travelers had worn through the landscape, leaving everything covered in a gritty, brown film.

Joanne and the children usually walked along beside the wagon, so they avoided the worst of it, but since Roy was the one driving the team, that meant he was covered in dust from head to toe at the end of each day. He didn't mind it too much. After three years of serving with the ambulance wagons during the war*, he'd been covered in far worse.

Joanne seemed to see it as a personal challenge, however, taking his clothes every evening and beating the dust out of them until they finally lost that tell-tale brown tint. They might not have much to their names, she'd said, but she wasn't going to let anyone in her family go around looking like vagabond.

A small smile curved his lips. His wife would take on the whole desert as a matter of principle, and he loved that about her. Still, Roy looked forward to an evening that didn't include beating his shirt and trousers into submission, and when Mud Springs* finally came into view, Roy breathed a sigh of relief.

The town was a small oasis in the desert, a valley of green amidst a sea of brown.

Joanne seemed even more eager, though she insisted that they make themselves presentable before entering the town itself and searching out the medical clinic. He agreed, recognizing the determined glint in Joanne's eye - there was no arguing with her when she looked like that and it was better not to try.

Besides, Dixie had mentioned that her husband had misgivings about hiring Roy at all, so he needed to make a good impression on the man. Looking his best - and not like he'd spent the last several months behind a two-horse hitch - might not influence the doctor one way or the other, but it couldn't hurt.

It was over an hour before Joanne was finally satisfied, but at last, the DeSoto family - all a great deal cleaner than they had been previously - piled into the wagon together and made their way down into the valley.

They attracted more than a few curious stares as they went, but the town was small enough that the scrutiny was probably something every new visitor was treated to. Those curious looks grew to a murmur when Roy stopped their wagon in front of an imposing building at the far end of the main street. It was just as Dixie had described it.

The two story structure was painted a light blue, with white, scrolling accents around the windows and wooden shingles on the roof and over the porch. A sign above the porch proclaimed the building's purpose as a medical clinic, and the name of the doctor in residence was written at the bottom.

Roy's eyes lingered on those letters for a moment.

Dr. Kelly Brackett, M.D.

Roy had known the man only by his reputation before Dixie had married him. He was a protégé of both Johns Hopkins* and William Worrall Mayo*, and during the war, he'd been lauded as one of the North's best doctors. But, he was also said to have a quick temper and no patience for fools.

Dixie insisted that once you got past all the prickles and burrs, Kelly Brackett was a charming and genial man - though Roy wondered if, being Brackett's wife, Dixie was the only one who really got to see that side of the good doctor. He'd certainly never heard any corpsmen, nurses, or surgeons describe him that way.

Still, Brackett had chosen to settle all the way out West after the war, rather than establishing a lucrative practice in the East. According to Dixie, the move had been inspired by the fact that there were so few qualified physicians available in the burgeoning western communities, and Brackett had wanted to go where he was needed most. That spoke of the man's character if nothing else did. Well, that and Dixie's good opinion. She didn't put her husband up on a pedestal, that much was clear, but Roy knew that Dixie never would have married him if he were anything less than the man she thought he was.

Roy was just going to have to trust Dixie's judgment…and he did. He'd never met a woman that could keep her head in a crisis better than Dixie could. When he'd first been introduced to her at Chattanooga, she'd been a bastion of calm in the chaos of the medical tents, always ready with a soothing word and a steady hand, treating injuries that made even seasoned military men balk. She'd become a comfort to him, too, willing to listen if he needed to talk and quick to absolve him of the guilt he felt because he couldn't do more for the men he'd carried off the battlefield.

Roy smiled faintly. Dixie had called herself an old maid then, and she seemed content to be so, insisting that she wanted to devote all of her time and energy to nursing. But war had a way of changing your perspective, Roy knew, and a few months after the war had ended, Dixie had written to tell him that she'd gotten married to none other than Dr. Kelly Brackett, "a very old, very dear friend." A few months after that, Dixie had written again to tell him that she and her new husband were making their way West.

Roy had never expected to follow her. He'd intended to live out the rest of his days in his home state of Pennsylvania, but the home he returned to was not the home he remembered. Everywhere he'd looked, he had seen only the wounds the war had left behind, both on the ruined cities and on the lives of those who remained. Work had been plentiful, thanks to the ongoing rebuilding efforts, but even that hadn't been enough to entice him stay. He'd needed a new beginning, and Joanne - bless his beautiful wife - had understood that.

Still, California hadn't been his first choice. In fact, he'd seriously considered making a go of it in the Colorado territory. The Pike's Peak Gold Rush* had mostly dwindled, but he'd heard that mining would continue, and there were still opportunities aplenty for hardworking, honest men.

Then, he'd gotten another letter from Dixie.

Brackett, she'd explained, was the only doctor for miles. The nearest physician in the area, a man named Joe Early, lived in Victorville. Dixie said he was a good man who was quickly becoming a good friend, but the distance between their respective clinics was just too great for him to be of much help with Brackett's practice.

Brackett, for his part, had apparently been running himself ragged trying to cover as much territory as possible, and he was growing increasingly frustrated by losing patients he could have saved if only they'd received timely care. Dixie, practical woman that she was, had suggested that she treat some of the less serious patients herself, but Brackett was too worried for her safety to allow her to travel alone. Dixie understood, but on bad days, it could take almost as much time to find an escort for her as it could to actually reach a patient that needed help.

Dixie had finally suggested that they hire someone for that very purpose - someone who could escort her to her patients or, when the need arose, diagnose and assist a patient themselves. Brackett had, at first, absolutely refused, insisting that having amateurs getting underfoot would only make his job more difficult.

But Dixie hadn't given up - which didn't surprise Roy in the least - and in the end, Brackett had finally, grudgingly agreed. To a point. In Dixie's words, "The stubborn man will only hire someone on a trial basis. A trial basis. Honestly, a mule's less hard-headed."

Roy snorted softly as he remembered Dixie's obvious exasperation with her husband, but the amusement faded quickly. As he'd soon learned, Dixie hoped that Roy could be the one to prove her husband wrong. She knew Roy had decided to move his family out West, and she was certain that his experience with the ambulance wagons made him the perfect fit for the new role.

"We could hire one of the ranch hands in town, Roy, but it will take Kel a month to teach them half of what you already know. Please tell me you'll think about it."

Roy had. He'd thought about it long and hard.

On one hand, California was awfully far away, especially if there was a possibility that he'd make the trip only to work for a month or two, fail to impress Dr. Brackett, and then find himself jobless. He had a family to support, and he was asking enough of them already without adding that sort of uncertainty to the mix. On the other hand, if he accepted Dixie's offer, he had the guarantee of work right away, and even if the job didn't pan out in the long run, he would have enough time to learn the area and get hired-on somewhere else. That was an advantage he wouldn't have anywhere except California.

Moreover, he couldn't deny that the job appealed to him. He'd seen things during the war that would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life, but even so, serving as he had, he'd felt…useful. Needed. He'd helped people. No other job he'd ever set his hand to had given him that chance.

So, in the end, after many long discussions with Joanne, he'd written back to Dixie and told her that he'd do it.

Seven months later, here he was.

Taking a deep breath, Roy finally drew his gaze away from the sign on Brackett's clinic, then he stepped down from the wagon and took off his hat, his fingers curling around the brim.

Brackett was from old money back East, his father and grandfather both having been prominent lawyers. Brackett had broken with family tradition by becoming a doctor, and Dixie said that despite his upbringing, he cared little for the trappings of the wealthy. But Roy was suddenly, acutely aware that his best suit was old and faded, and despite Joanne's valiant efforts, his hat was worn and weathered after the long journey.

Did he look like a man that Kelly Brackett would want to hire? He hoped so, since the doctor charged as little as possible for his services, and he would, essentially, be paying Roy out of his own pocket. More than that, for the time being, at least, he would be putting a roof over their heads as well. Brackett owned a sizeable house just outside of town - he and Dixie had bought it with the intention of supplementing the space in their clinic, should the need ever arise - and he had agreed to provide Roy and his family with room and board for the first few months of their stay. Roy suspected that the arrangement had actually been Dixie's idea, but he was no less grateful for it.

Squaring his shoulders, Roy stepped onto the porch, lifted a hand, and knocked on the door.

He heard footsteps, and a moment later the door swung open, revealing a woman with a familiar head of blonde hair. Dixie's mouth broke into a large grin, and Roy felt a smile lighting up his own face.

"Roy!" Dixie greeted warmly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "I'd hoped you'd be arriving soon. It's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you too, Dix," he answered, giving her hand a squeeze in return.

Dixie hadn't changed much in the two years since he'd seen her last. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a simple bun, a few shorter strands falling around her face. She wore a light green dress with long sleeves, and a white apron was tied around her waist. It had faint, reddish-brown stains on it that Roy recognized as dried blood.

Dixie caught his gaze.

"Fight in the saloon," she explained simply. "Had to stitch up a scalp laceration a little while ago."

Roy frowned faintly. If Dixie had been the one to treat them, then where was Brackett? He glanced around the clinic - what he could see of it, anyway - and Dixie must have known what he was thinking.

"Kel isn't here right now. He left early this morning when he learned that Mrs. Russell was in labor. The Russell farm isn't too far from San Gabriel, so it's a long trip, even if there aren't any complications with the birth."

Roy nodded his understanding. "Never a dull moment," he said wryly.

Dixie laughed. "You've got that right. Speaking of," she began, reaching behind her back to untie the strings of her bloodied apron, "why don't you introduce me to that family of yours before someone interrupts us?"

Roy huffed a soft laugh and agreed. He waited until Dixie had hung the apron on a hook by the door, and then he led her over to the wagon where his family waited.

Already guessing his intentions, Joanne held out a hand, and Roy helped her balance as she climbed down to the ground. Behind her, Chris clambered down by himself, and Roy reached up to lift Jennifer from the wagon bed, setting her beside her mother.

"Dixie," Roy said, turning back to the nurse, "this is my wife, Joanne."

Dixie reached out to clasp Joanne's hands in welcome. "It's so nice to finally meet you! Roy's told me so much about you."

Joanne smiled warmly in return. "It's wonderful to meet you too. Roy speaks very highly of you."

"The feeling is mutual, believe me."

Roy stepped behind his children, resting his hands on their shoulders. "And this is our son Christopher, and our daughter, Jennifer."

Roy had to smile as Chris tipped the hat he wore, giving Dixie a stilted bow, clearly imitating a wealthy gentleman they'd seen back in Denver. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Brackett."

The nurse grinned at the gesture. "You, young man, can call me Dixie."

"Can I call you Dixie too?" Jennifer piped up.

Dixie bent down to match Jennifer's smaller height, her hands resting on her knees. "Of course you can."

Jennifer preened at the privilege, and Roy shared an amused look with his wife.

"Now," Dixie added, giving Jennifer one last smile before she straightened up, "like I told Roy, Kel isn't here right now - he left this morning to deliver a baby. But, I was just about to head home and get a start on supper, and I know you must all be very tired from your trip. How about you join me?"

Roy smiled, retaking his place beside his wife and reaching out to draw her closer. "We'd be much obliged."

Joanne leaned into his side and nodded eagerly. "That really would be wonderful. We haven't had anything that wasn't cooked over a campfire since Virginia City."

"Well, I can't guarantee how good it will be - I'm no great shakes in the kitchen - but I promise it'll be made over a cook-stove." Dixie smiled wryly and nodded at the clinic. "My buckboard is around the back. Just give me a few minutes to clean up a bit and hitch up the horses, and then we can head out."

Roy and Joanne both agreed readily, and got themselves and the children settled back inside the wagon while they waited for Dixie to return.

The wait wasn't a long one, and soon enough, they were on the move once again, Dixie's buckboard leading the way ahead of them. It was still dusty - apparently, even Mud Springs was feeling the effects of the drought in the area - but the ride through town sure was a lot smoother than the sort they'd all become accustomed to over the last few months, and Roy couldn't deny that he appreciated the change. He was certain that Joanne did too.

In just a few minutes, they'd passed the town's boundaries and were headed back into open land, though Roy guessed that they didn't have too far to go. He knew from Dixie's letters that she and her husband had made a very deliberate choice when they'd bought the house they now owned. They'd wanted something close to town so that they could be easily reached if there was an emergency, but far enough away that they could have a little privacy as well.

The house had fit the bill perfectly. It had originally belonged to a rancher who'd been a long-time staple in the region's cattle business, having carved out a niche for himself even before California had become a state. He'd managed to remain neutral during the war with Mexico*, and business had continued at a steady pace, but eventually, age had turned out to be the one opponent he couldn't beat. Unable to keep up with the demanding work any longer, and without an heir to follow him, he'd parceled off his land and sold it to other settlers and businessmen as the nearby town grew. He'd retired on the money and headed back East to spend his final days in comfort.

The large house he'd built for himself had been the last to sell, since most folks headed out West simply didn't have the money to afford it. But Brackett had paid full price, purchasing the main house as well as well as the stable, corral, and the old bunkhouse that Roy and his family would occupy for the next few months.

The house, Roy saw as they rounded the last bend in the road, was just as impressive as Dixie had made it seem in her letters. It was two stories high and it had the appearance of a sprawling log cabin. It was made of pine, the ends of the logs having aged into a deep, amber hue, and there were three windows on each floor, all with glass panes. A brown, shingle roof covered the building, and it had a big front porch that was framed by four wooden pillars.

Overall, the house had an undeniably masculine air - probably the intent of the bachelor rancher who had commissioned it - but Roy could already see Dixie's touch softening the edges. A flourishing garden took up a stretch of land right in front of the house, carefully arranged gray stones outlined the pathway leading to the front door, and wooden benches and a couple rocking chairs sat on the porch, facing the nearby mountains.

The bunkhouse was a short distance away, located beside the stable and nearby corral. It was a long, low building that had clearly been designed to match its neighbor, because it was built of the same type of pine. A porch ran the length of it, and the roof reached over that porch, supported by wooden posts at regular intervals. A red, stone chimney stretched up into the sky on one end, and like the main house, its windows had glass panes. It obviously hadn't been lived in the way that the main house had been, but it looked welcoming enough, and Dixie had assured them that it had been kept in good repair. Judging by the size, Roy knew there would be more than enough room for him and his family, and with two energetic children to look after, that had been one of his and Jo's biggest concerns.

Dixie stopped her buckboard in front of the corral, and Roy brought his team to a halt behind her. She hopped down from her seat and smiled as she walked towards them, stopping beside the wagon.

"You can pull your wagon right into the stable - we only keep a few horses ourselves, so there's more than enough room for it along with my buckboard. And you can turn your horses out in the corral with mine. I'll make sure they have some fresh hay."

"I could get the hay," Roy offered, but Dixie shook her head.

"No, I'll do it," she insisted. "You have to be exhausted, and besides, you're not a hired-hand yet, Roy DeSoto. You're a guest."

Roy was tempted to argue, but Dixie wasn't wrong - he was bone-tired. So, he accepted with a grateful nod and did as Dixie suggested.

When their wagon was tucked in beside Dixie's buckboard in the stable, Roy unhitched the horses and led them out to the corral. They seemed happy to finally be free of the heavy tack, and pranced around the corral a few times, kicking their heels up and shaking their manes before joining Dixie's horses at the water trough.

Once the horses had been seen to, Dixie asked if they would like to see the bunkhouse now, or if they preferred to wait until later. Weary as he was, Roy couldn't deny his curiosity, and Jo seemed just as eager as he was to see the place that would be their home for the next few months at least. Even the kids were bouncing with excitement - they'd never seen the inside of a bunkhouse before, and were apparently delighted by the thought that they would be living in one.

When Dixie opened the door and led them inside, Roy was certainly pleased.

The bunkhouse was, essentially, one long room, and it was just as large as he'd anticipated. The air inside smelled just the faintest bit musty, likely from having been shut up for so long, but Dixie had obviously made an effort to air it out, because it was clean and fresh bedding had been added to four of the bunks. The other bunks had been cleared away, and a sheet had been hung up between the four remaining ones, forming a makeshift wall and offering them all a little privacy. A metal washtub and a washbasin - both of which look new - rested in one of the corners, and simple, blue curtains had been hung around the windows.

"Feel free to change them if you prefer your own," Dixie told Joanne.

The far end of the bunkhouse, opposite their beds, had been set up like a kitchen, with a table and chairs, a few shelves for storage, a fireplace, and a small cook-stove.

Joanne seemed especially relieved that the bunkhouse needed so little work to make it livable - all that really remained was for them to move their few belongings in - and she pulled Dixie into a grateful hug. The older woman returned it with a grin.

"Well," she said with a laugh, "you came all the way out here just so Roy could be hired on a 'trial basis' by my mule-headed husband - it's the least I could do."

Roy had to smile at that himself, remembering Dixie's complaints from her letter.

"We thank you just the same," he said sincerely.

"It was my pleasure, Roy. Really." She smiled again. "You're welcome to start unpacking if you'd like, or you can join me in the main house. Kel will probably be getting back soon, so I'd better get started on supper."

Roy shared a glance with Joanne - he knew she was anxious to get settled, but he wasn't surprised when she turned back to Dixie and offered, "Can I give you a hand in the kitchen?"

"Oh, that's not necessary," Dixie started, clearly ready to tell Joanne exactly what she'd told Roy earlier.

Joanne, however, wouldn't hear it.

"Please, I insist. You've done so much for us already, and the work will go faster with two of us. Honestly, I'd enjoy the chance to work in an actual kitchen again."

Dixie eyed her for a moment, clearly torn between being a good hostess and being practical, but finally she nodded. "Alright, I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

A few minutes later, they were all gathered in a well-appointed kitchen that made Roy wonder if the original owner of the property had actually hoped to marry one day, or if he just had a healthy appreciation for a good meal. It had all the modern conveniences money could buy, including a fireplace, a cast iron stove, plenty of shelf space, a large work table, and a sink with a small reservoir of water.

Roy sat in a nearby chair, keeping Dixie and his wife company, but knowing that the best thing he could probably do to help was to stay out of their way. (Though, he did wind up chopping some extra wood for the stove when Dixie realized she needed more.) The kids alternated between playing some sort of game on the floor in front of the fireplace and retrieving ingredients for Dixie or Joanne whenever they were asked to.

The kitchen had just begin to fill with the delicious aroma of fresh bread and beef stew when the sound of a horse and wagon could be heard in the distance.

Dixie listened for a moment then smiled. "The horses don't sound like they're in a hurry, so I'll bet that's Kel."

Roy felt his throat get a little dry, all his earlier worries about making a good impression quickly returning. It was almost worse than it had been before, now that he'd seen the man's house. Even if money didn't matter to him, Kelly Brackett was still clearly used to having the best of everything, and Roy was just a simple family man from Pennsylvania. Was Dixie right? Was he really the best person for this job? Would Brackett think so?

Roy had taken his jacket off and rolled up his shirt sleeves when he'd gone out to chop that wood for Dixie, but now he rolled his sleeves back down and donned that jacket once again, slipping it on and instinctively sitting up a little straighter.

He was glad he'd taken the time to do so when he heard the tread of a footstep on the porch outside, and then the sound of the front door opening.

"Dix?" a deep voice called.

"In the kitchen!" Dixie called back.

Those footsteps grew louder, and then a tall, solidly-built man filled the doorway of the kitchen. Being a tall man himself, Roy guessed that he actually had an inch or two on the good doctor, but there was something intimidating about Brackett just the same. The confident way he held himself made him seem bigger than he was in actual fact. The black hat he wore only added to the effect, and short, thick, dark hair was visible beneath the brim. He looked to be somewhere in his early 40s, and he was blue-eyed and clean-shaven, though Roy could see a faint shadow around his jaw, evidence of the early start he'd had that morning.

He wore a long, gray frock coat that ended at his thighs, and he had a striped, dark gray vest and a white shirt underneath that. A loose, black bow tie was fastened around his neck, and he wore black riding boots and black pants. And, Roy realized, he had black medical bag in one hand and a black gun belt slung low on his hip. On any other man, that might have seemed contradictory, but Brackett carried them both with ease.

Brackett smiled at his wife. "Oh, I'm sorry, Dixie, I didn't realize we had company."

"Not just any company. Kel, this is Roy DeSoto."

Brackett's piercing gaze immediately turned towards him, and Roy quickly stood, offering his hand.

"Dr. Brackett," he said formally. "It's an honor to meet you."

Bracket didn't answer for a moment, his eyes narrowing faintly in blatant assessment, his smile fading into something less welcoming and more reserved. It made him look less like Dixie's happy husband, and more like the foreboding doctor Roy had heard nervous corpsmen whisper about during the war.

Roy held Brackett's gaze evenly, keeping the sudden rush of nerves he felt from making any impact on his expression. He'd dragged men off the battle field under fire. He could face down one - albeit intimidating - doctor.

"Mr. DeSoto," Brackett said finally, taking his hand.

Roy glanced over at Dixie again, just in time to see her give her husband an annoyed look at his lackluster greeting, but her voice was cheerful as she introduced Joanne, Christopher, and Jennifer.

Brackett tipped his hat to Joanne, offering her a respectful, "Ma'am," and his smile returned as he said hello to the children.

"Dinner should be ready in a half an hour or so," Dixie told him. "Why don't you go get cleaned up, Kel, and then maybe you and Roy can go into your study and talk."

Brackett seemed reluctant, but another look from his wife finally had him agreeing. "Alright. I have to see to the horses as well, but if you wouldn't mind showing Mr. DeSoto to my study, I'll be there as soon as I can." He paused and turned back to Roy. "Is that alright with you, Mr. Desoto?" he asked.

Roy nodded. "Yes, that'll be fine."

"Good."

Brackett tipped his hat to Joanne once more in farewell, then spun on his heel and strode back out through the door without another word.

Dixie watched him go and then sighed, shaking her head in apparent exasperation before she stepped out from behind the work table.

"Come on, Roy, let me take you to the study."

Roy glanced over at his family. The children, he was glad to see, had resumed their game, apparently unaware of the tension around them. Joanne, for her part, seemed concerned by the cold reception he'd been given, but as soon as he caught her eye, she summoned up an encouraging smile. He returned it, wanting to reassure her, and then he moved to follow Dixie.

The nurse paused to hang her apron on a nearby hook before leading him from the kitchen and down a long hallway.

"I promise you," Dixie said wryly, "Kel's really not that bad once you get to know him."

Roy's lips quirked. "'Charming and genial,' you said."

"And he is!" Dixie insisted, though she sighed again a moment later. "At least he is when he wants to be. He's just frustrated, and he's taking it out on the person who least deserves it: you. But you'll win him over, I have no doubt."

"Thanks, Dix."

"You're welcome. I mean it, Roy."

When they reached the end of the corridor, Dixie stopped in front of a wooden door that looked as solid as its owner.

"Here we are," she said, and pushed the door open, revealing a room that was dominated by a large, mahogany desk. A patterned maroon rug covered the floor, and dark blue curtains framed the large window on the east wall. A simple but elegant oak chair sat behind the desk, and two matching chairs had been placed in front of the desk, clearly intended for guests. But, it was the wall behind the desk that drew Roy's attention. It was lined by shelves that were overflowing with thick, leather-bound tomes. Judging by the few titles Roy could read at this distance, they were all medical volumes of some kind. Roy wondered how Brackett had gotten them all out West. Likely, he'd had them shipped by train. Roy couldn't imagine hauling all of those across the country in a wagon.

Dixie gestured to one of chairs situated in front of the desk, and Roy accepted the seat gratefully, though, given the grandeur of his surroundings, he couldn't deny that it made him feel a little bit like a schoolboy who'd been called to the headmaster's office.

Roy snorted softly at the thought, and after Dixie left, he spent the rest of his wait reading the titles on the spines of the books*, trying to guess what they might be about, and whether or not he'd learned anything about those subjects during the war. So far, his experience didn't seem to be much help.

The Principles and Practice of Modern Surgery.

The Diagnosis, Pathology, and Treatment Of the Diseases of the Chest.

A Practical Treatise on Fractures and Dislocations.

A Conspectus of the Pharmacopoeias of the London Edinburgh and College Of Physicians.

Roy frowned at that last one, but before he could try to puzzle out its meaning, the door behind him opened again, and he turned to see Brackett step into the room. He'd left his frock coat and hat behind, leaving him in his gray, striped vest, white shirt, and black pants. The shadow of stubble was gone now as well, and his hair was combed. His revolver and gunbelt were also noticeably absent. Roy decided to take that as a good sign.

Brackett walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down.

"Mr. DeSoto," he began, "I apologize if I seemed…abrupt…earlier. It's been a long day."

The hesitant tone of Brackett's voice suggested that he wasn't a man used to apologizing, and Roy wondered if Dixie had insisted upon it. He bit back a smile at the thought.

"I can imagine," he offered aloud. "Dixie said you left early this morning."

"Right after sunup," Brackett confirmed. "I'll admit, when I came home, I wasn't prepared for company."

"Especially my kind?" Roy guessed.

Brackett's lips quirked faintly, and he nodded.

"Please know, Mr. DeSoto, that I have nothing against you. From what Dixie's told me, you're a fine man. But I am not particularly enthusiastic about the reason that you're here. I just don't think that hiring an extra hand is the answer to the problem we're facing."

"But you agreed to hire me anyway," Roy pointed out.

Brackett sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I did," he conceded.

"Why?"

"Because I'm desperate," Brackett said frankly. "We lost three people last week alone, and all of them might have been saved if they could have gotten help sooner. It's been that way from the beginning. Some weeks are better than others, but in the end, the numbers don't lie. We're losing more people than we save. So, even if I don't think my wife's idea is the solution we need, I'm hoping that doing something will be better than doing nothing."

Roy nodded in understanding. It wasn't exactly a glowing endorsement, but at least Brackett seemed willing to give him a chance.

"Distance is my biggest problem," Brackett continued. "Mrs. Russell, whose baby I delivered today, did most of the work by herself before I even got there." The doctor shook his head wryly. "Thankfully, she had a healthy baby boy, and mother and child are both doing just fine. But it still took me all day to make it there and back, and most of my day wasn't even spent with the patient, but sitting on that blasted wagon. Unfortunately, days like today are fairly routine, so chances are good that if there's an emergency, that's where I am, out in the middle of nowhere, headed to a patient who, for one reason or another, is already past the point of needing my help. And, meanwhile, there's someone worse off who is out there dying - and they are dying, Mr. DeSoto, believe me - but my hands are tied because no matter how much I want to help them, I can't be in two places at once."

It was Roy's turn to lean back in his chair as he considered the doctor's words. Brackett's frustration was palpable, and Roy couldn't help but sympathize. He remembered the frantic sprints he had made across still-active battle fields, desperate to reach as many wounded men as possible, but there was only so much room in the ambulance wagon, and there were always more wounded than he could carry. It was an impossible situation, the kind that could drive a man to the brink…and Brackett's personal battlefield was much, much bigger. Moreover, while Roy had the support of the soldiers assigned to the wagons with him, Brackett had only Dixie.

Roy frowned at the thought.

"You don't think extra manpower will help you?" he asked.

"It's not just a question manpower, it's a question of qualified manpower," Brackett clarified. "Out here, you'll find any number of people who claim to know 'doctoring.' Some of them are well-intentioned and some of them aren't. But in my opinion, they all do more harm than good. The last thing I need is another man like them, running around with my approval. If I'm going to hire you, I need to train you properly, and that's more involved than it sounds. I've studied medicine for years, Mr. DeSoto, and I'm still learning my craft. I'm not convinced that giving you a few basic lessons will be enough to make you qualified to treat anyone."

"I see," Roy answered. And he did, truly. "But even though you're not convinced, you're still willing to try?"

Brackett didn't look happy but he nodded. "I am. I told Dixie that I would."

Roy had to smile at that. "She can certainly be persuasive."

"That she can. And persistent."

Roy stifled a laugh, managing to turn it into a cough before he cleared his throat. "So," he pressed, wanting to be sure, "the contract we agreed upon through our correspondence still stands?"

Brackett nodded again. "It does. I'll hire you on a trial-basis for three months, wages and room and board included. In the event that this little experiment proves to be more successful than I expect, we'll discuss extending that contract when the time comes. But," he warned, "you should know, Mr. DeSoto, that it won't be easy. There's a lot you'll need to learn, and I won't allow you near a patient unless I'm absolutely certain that you're ready."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Roy assured.

Brackett seemed pleased by his answer.

"Well, then, Mr. DeSoto," he said, "tomorrow, we get to work."

TBC


Historical and Content Notes

The American Civil War: The American Civil War lasted from April 12, 1861 to May 13, 1865. (Please see the note about ambulance wagons below.)

Civil War Ambulance Wagons: While ambulance wagons have a history going back to the Crusades of the 11th century, the American ambulance service owes a lot of its advancement to the Civil War period. It was during the Civil War that the medical corps became far more organized, and treatment of the injured was streamlined. William A. Hammond, who became the Surgeon General of the Union Army in 1862, is considered to be the "Father of Modern Ambulance Services." (Source: emt-resources (d o t) c o m, "The History of Ambulances.")

Mud Springs: Mud Springs was the original name for the city of San Dimas, California. The name change took place about 1887. The name "San Dimas" was taken from a nearby canon, because it "sounded better than 'Mud Springs' and would therefore be more likely to attract new residents." (Source: lacountylibrary (d o t) o r g, "San Dimas, Frequently Asked Questions.") San Dimas is located in the San Gabriel Valley of Los Angeles County. (Source: sandimaschamber (d o t) c o m, "Points of Interest.")

Johns Hopkins: Despite the fact that a well-known hospital and a medical college both bear his name, Johns Hopkins (May 19, 1795 – December 24, 1873) was not a doctor himself, so I'm using a bit of artistic license here. :) He was an "American entrepreneur, abolitionist and philanthropist of 19th-century Baltimore, Maryland." (Wikipedia.) During the Civil War, he was a staunch supporter of the Union and Abraham Lincoln, and a dedicated abolitionist. The hospital bearing his name was founded 1889. Per Hopkins' instructions, the hospital was, "first, to provide assistance to the poor of 'all races', no matter the indigent patient's 'age, sex or color.'" (Wikipedia.)

William Worrall Mayo: William Worrall Mayo (May 31, 1819 – March 6, 1911) was not well-known during the Civil War, so again, this is a bit of artistic license on my part. In fact, at the start of the Civil War, "Mayo attempted to procure a commission as a military surgeon, but was rejected." (Wikipedia.) He did, however, eventually serve as a surgeon during the war in Rochester, Minnesota, and he liked the area enough that he moved his family there. In 1883, a tornado devastated Rochester. In response, Mayo, his two sons who were also physicians, and the Sisters of St. Francis came together to treat the injured. This is usually considered the beginning of the "Mayo Clinic Story." (Wikipedia.)

The Pikes Peak Gold Rush: Gold was discovered near present-day Denver in 1858/59, drawing nearly 100,000 gold seekers. It continued until about 1861. (Wikipedia.)

The Mexican-American War: The Mexican-American War lasted from 1846 to 1848. California was then incorporated into the United States following the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, and was granted statehood on September 9, 1850. (Source: britannica (d o t) c o m, "Mexican-American War.")

Civil War Medical Books: The titles I included in my fic are actual books from the Civil War period. Their authors and dates of publication are as follows:

The Diagnosis, Pathology, and Treatment Of the Diseases of the Chest by W.W. Gerhard, 1860.

The Principles and Practice of Modern Surgery by Robert Druitt, 1860.

A Practical Treatise on Fractures and Dislocations by Frank Hastings Hamilton, 1863.

A Conspectus of the Pharmacopoeias of the London Edinburgh and College Of Physicians by Anthony Thomson, 1861.

(Source: I found these book titles and others at civilwarmedicalbooks (d o t) c o m.)


A/N: This fic is already complete, and Lord willing, updates should be coming every few days or so. It is twelve chapters in total. And don't worry - Johnny and other familiar faces will be joining Roy soon. :)

Thank you so much for reading, and please let me know what you think!

Take care and God bless!

Ani-maniac494 :)