"Take it easy on that beer," Doc said as he watched the hill man gulp down half a mug. "You shouldn't be drinking after a concussion anyway!"

"Wal, this is the first beer I've had in purt near a week," Festus said with an indignant snort. "And I may just have another! Besides, it ain't never hurt me before!"

"Well," Doc said swiping his mustache. "Don't listen to me then but I don't want you coming to me when you're so sick from it you can't see straight!"

"I won't need to," Festus said snidely. "I got Robert if in I'm a needin any help!"

"Oh, you do huh," Doc said tugging angrily on his ear. "And I suppose you won't pay him either!"

Festus gave the doctor a dirty look but kept his comments to himself as he finishing his beer and then looked up expectantly when Matt walked in.

"Where's Robert?" Matt asked as Festus shrugged his shoulders. "Not sure Matthew, he was kinda perturbed bout them boys and all."

"Well," Matt said evenly. "Judge Brooker has reached a verdict and he wants everyone to assemble in his office in half an hour."

"I'll find him, Matthew," Festus said getting to his feet and heading out the door.

Robert had gone in the direction of the stable and Festus knew his son's love of horses often brought him there so it was good a place as any to look first.

"Robert," Festus said aloud stepping inside the darkened barn. "Ya in here, son!"

"Yeah," Robert said coming out of one of the tack room's. "I'm here!"

"Wal, c'mon," Festus said taking Robert's arm. "We got ta go, the Judge done made his decision."

"Already," Robert said straightening his clothes and running a hand though his hair. "Let's go then."

They arrived at Brooker's office just as Matt brought Joe, Mark and Hal inside.

"I guess you're pretty proud of yourself, sticking up for us the way you did!" Mark said as Robert took his seat.

"He didn't have to," Hal said with a smile aimed at Robert.

"I only did what I thought was best," Robert whispered as the Judge walked in.

"I know that this isn't going to be the most ideal situation," Brooker said as he steepled his fingers together. "But it's the best I could do."

Robert wasn't sure why, but a feeling of foreboding filled him as Matt made the three defendants rise.

"Joseph Cooper and Mark Holland, having been found guilty of the crimes against you, I sentence you both to five years hard labor," Brooker said brining down his gavel. "As for Harold Holland Jr. I hereby commit you to the asylum where you will remain for the foreseeable future."

Robert closed his eyes in silent anguish as the Judge stood up to leave. As much as he wanted to help, Hal wasn't his responsibility and with his brother in prison and no one else to watch after him, Robert knew there wasn't any other alternative.

"Well," Robert said once it was just himself, Doc and Festus. "At least I can say, I tried."

"That's right," Doc replied with a nod. "As Brooker said, it's not ideal but at least the boy won't go to prison like his brother."

"I know," Robert said sadly. "But an asylum isn't much better."

Later that night, Doc who had just let Newly go home with Vera to recover from the gunshot wound, was cleaning his various instruments when Robert let himself into his office.

"What's all this," Doc asked as the younger physician spread out several sheets of paper.

"I couldn't sleep so I brought the plans for the hospital," Robert said excitedly. "I wanted you to see them first. I had the architect draw them up before I left Boston. Each one is different depending on if we use an existing building or build our own. And he drew them according to how the building would look in Dodge."

"Yes," Doc replied looking over the first two. "I can see the difference."

"As you can see," Robert said pointing to a rendition of a brick building. "This one uses a new construction while this one," he said pointing to a picture of an all wooden building. "Is using one of Dodge's existing buildings. What do you think?"

"I think they're all good," Doc said with a smile. "We've just got to present them to the town council and see if we could take over that old hotel or if we'll have to build a new building."

"Yeah," Robert said slightly agitated. "The waiting is what's hard to do."

Doc noticed the agitation in Robert's voice but dismissed it as being young and impatient until the younger physician grabbed the edge of his exam table and pitched forward while clutching his chest.

"Easy now, sit down here!" Doc said worriedly before putting an arm around Robert and leading him to the chair next to his desk. Doc's eyes narrowed as he felt the irregular way Robert's heart beat under his hand.

"It'll pass," Robert said taking a seat before reaching into the pocket of his jacket and removing a small vial. "It never lasts more than a few minutes."

Doc watched him take a pill from the vial and put it in his mouth. "What is that you're taking," he said grabbing his stethoscope from his desk.

"Nitroglycerin," Robert said handing the vial to Doc.

The physician had been around medicine long enough to know by looking at the pills just how high the dosage was and how many were missing.

"Pretty high dosage," Doc commented before setting the vial down and reaching over to open Robert's shirt. Placing the diaphragm against the younger man's chest, the doctor listened intently for a moment before Robert spoke.

"What's your diagnosis, Doc?"

Doc sat back in his chair with a sigh before he swiped his mustache. "I'd have to say it's myocarditis."

"And you'd be right," Robert said with a slight smile.

Doc shook his head in disbelief before he leaned forward "Alright, tell me what happened."

"Six months after I got to school, I got sick," Robert said taking a deep breath. "It wasn't anything serious at first. But after a while, I didn't get any better. I awoke one morning at the home of one of my professors who informed me I had been unconscious for a week."

"My god," Doc mumbled. "Why didn't you tell us!"

"I didn't want you all to worry," Robert said firmly. "I kept up with my studies and with his help, I recovered rather quickly. But then, I started having attacks like the one you just witnessed."

"How often?" Doc asked mentally noting the return of color to Robert's cheeks.

"At first it was more than once a day," Robert said sitting up. "After I saw several Doctors, it was determined that the myocarditis is a result of the illness I suffered."

Doc nodded before he spoke. "And the prognosis?"

"Depends," Robert said reaching into the pocket of his pants. "I've been taking this for the last year and it helps keep the attacks down."

Doc took the second vial and opened it. "Digitalis," he said with a nod.

"Of course, I've had to periodically change the dosage as the symptoms have gotten worse," Robert said quietly.

"So that's why you were in such a rush to finish school early," Doc stated as Robert nodded slightly.

"One of the reasons," Robert said evenly. "When your faced with your own mortality, a lot of things became quite clear and well, I wanted to be with my family instead of miles away at school."

"You're not going to die," Doc said sternly as Robert scoffed.

"Not right away at least," Robert replied quickly. "But you and I both know, this is a disease that has no cure."

"No but there are steps you can take," Doc said with a nod. "Starting with getting plenty of rest..."

"And slowing down," Robert said with a grin. "I've heard it all before, Doc."

"And you're going to do it!" Doc said standing up. "I want you to sleep here and we'll talk about a treatment plan in the morning."

"Alright," Robert said slowly getting to his feet. "Just do me one favor, will you?"

"What is it?" Doc asked meeting his eyes.

"I don't want anyone but us to know about this," Robert said gently.

"Not even your parents?" Doc asked slightly surprised.

"Please, Doc," Robert said shaking his head.

Doc nodded as he lead Robert into his spare room. "I'll keep it to myself for now," he said once the younger man was settled. "But I won't lie to them, ever."

Robert nodded knowingly. "I understand and I wouldn't ask you to," he said with a wiry grin as the older man turned down the lamp. "By the way, it's good to be home."

Doc watched from the doorway until Robert started to snore softly. And then he shuffled quietly over to his desk and sat down. Moving the vials Robert had given him aside, he tiredly took off his glasses and rested his head in his hands.

Saying a silent prayer for Robert, Doc thought about his old friend, Judge John Kendall who came to him with virtually the same aliment. But Doc hoped Robert's age and physic would allow him to combat the disease where John's could not. Because deep down inside, the physician didn't just look upon the younger man as someone to mentor and share his medical knowledge with, the physician thought, that if he'd ever had a son, he would have been like Robert.