With the injuries Albert had sustained from the thugs in the alley, he was forced to close his office. He was loathe to do it, but there was no other choice. For the first two days he could hardly even dress. Treating anyone else would be impossible until the wound on his arm had healed. Jake the kitten was forced to live on whatever mice he could catch...and whatever food Albert dropped in his newfound clumsiness.

Word of the attack on Albert spread quickly, but not because of the 'closed sign on his front door. Father Dougherty told the other clergymen about the attack by way of a prayer request, who passed on the news to their respective congregations. All were asked to keep the young doctor in their prayers. That very afternoon several dozen people arrived at Albert's office with baskets of food and well wishes. Mrs. Dougherty brought over a full lunch of cold ham and cornbread. Another parishioner brought hot chicken soup for supper. Another volunteered to care for his horse while he was laid up. More than a hundred others stopped by at various points in the day. Concern and disbelief brought most of them, and the reaction of anger was almost universal.

"Who would do such a thing?" asked the Widow Dawson, sadly shaking her head.

"Brutes!" cried Mrs. Tanner indignantly. "And in the dark, too!"

"Ooh, those animals! Why under heaven would anyone want to go after a doctor- our only doctor -and beat him within an inch of his life, that's what I'd like to know," declared Mattie Steiner. She went on to describe exactly what she would do with the men if she ever got a hold of them.

Whoever came by to speak with Albert, their opinions on the attack were always the same; it was a terrible thing, and those responsible should be locked up for a good long while. Some even suggested locking them up and throwing away the key. Most baffling of all was the reason behind it. While he had a fairly good idea, Albert could answer these questions only with a shrug and a shake of his head.

As it turned out the three men who had ambushed Albert and Sylvia had been put in lockup for a measly two days before being turned loose. The reason given by the Sheriff was 'not enough evidence'. The public raised a loud cry of protest. Soon they began calling for the deposition of the lawman.

Albert, since he was young and healthy, began recovering quickly from his injuries. By the fourth day he was able to function relatively well and most of his bruises had begun to fade.

The young doctor was in the process of trying to fix himself lunch one-handed when there was a knock on his door. Albert sighed and turned to walk down the stairs, hoping it wasn't Mrs. Steiner again. The well-meaning chatterbox visited often enough to be a nuisance. The young doctor walked slowly downstairs. Jake the cat streaked ahead of him, waited at the foot of the stairs until Albert passed, and then rubbed against his legs.

It wasn't Mrs. Steiner this time. It was Sylvia at the door with a basket on her arm and Tommy at her side.

Albert straightened his spine in pleasant surprise and quickly opened the door. "Hello, Sylvia. Hello, Tommy. Won't you come inside?"

Sylvia's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Hello, Alb...Dr. Ingalls. We...we can't stay long," said as she and her son stepped inside.

Albert nodded in understanding. Hector couldn't be left alone for more than a few minutes in his condition. "That's all right. Can I help you with something?"

"Not really, I-" Sylvia looked down at the basket for a moment. "We just wanted to see how you were feeling."

"Oh. Well, considering the circumstances, I'm doing fine. Thank you for asking."

"How's your arm?"

"Still pretty sore...so is everything else. My face does look a little better." Albert cracked a smile. "At least I think it does."

Sylvia pursed her lips at him. "Albert...you look-" She stopped herself to avoid saying 'handsome' and continued. "-fine. I hope you feel better soon," she said with genuine concern.

Albert shifted his injured arm with a slight grimace. "Same here. Being stuck here unable to do much is worse than torture. I know my patients are eager to see me back."

Sylvia lifted her chin. "Well, even if you didn't have any patients, I know everyone is eager to see you better." When Albert smiled at her, the young woman blushed and redirected her gaze to the basket. "I know how hard it is to cook with one hand, so I brought you some food. It's not much, but..."

Albert's features sagged a little. "You didn't have to do that," he sighed, thinking of how in need the family already was. I can't take food from them.

A look of slight pride crossed Sylvia's fair features. "I wanted to. There's nothing wrong with that, is there? After all, you've done so much for us, I'd been looking for some way to say thank you."

Sadly Albert shook his head and handed the basket back. "You're welcome...but I can't accept this. You keep it for your family. I don't need any more food here, believe me. Little old ladies from three churches have brought enough to sink a ship!"

Sylvia pushed the basket back into his hands. "Just take it. Please? For me...?"

The ghost of a smile reluctantly returned to Albert's face. He would do anything for her. "All right. Thank you." A warm, meaty aroma wafted out from under the cloth. When he lifted the cloth, he found a lidded tin pail much like a schoolchild would carry their lunch in. "It sure smells good. What is it?"

"Stew and biscuits," shrugged Sylvia. She glanced down at Tommy, who was getting restless. "We'd better go."

"All right. How's your father doing?" Albert wanted to know.

"Tired. He's been sleeping a lot."

"He needs it. I'll stop by tomorrow, all right?"

Sylvia's thin brows knit together and she shook her head. "No...no, you don't have to do that. You need rest."

Albert offered a crooked smile. "There isn't any rest for a doctor. As long as I can still use a stethoscope, I can check his breathing."

Sylvia opened her mouth for further protest, but found she couldn't come up with anything else to say. Instead she sighed and glanced out the door again. "We'd better go. Goodbye, Alb...Dr. Ingalls. Say goodbye to Dr. Ingalls, Tommy."

Tommy looked from his mother to Albert in exasperation before waving to Albert and giving a very rough sign of 'feel better'.

Albert smiled at the boy and waved back. "Thank you, Tommy. I'll see you tomorrow," he signed.

Tommy frowned, sighed, and followed his mother out the door.

Albert found his smile fading as he watched mother and son leave. The need to do something to help the family weighed more heavily on his heart than ever. Winter would be coming soon, and with so little money it would be difficult for Sylvia and her family to get by. He wondered how they had managed in the past.

As Albert sat down to his lunch he was struck by conscience. Here he was, surrounded by gifts from well wishers, and the woman he loved and her family were on slim portions. Not anymore, he decided, taking mental tally of all the food in the house. He smiled as an idea of how to help Sylvia's family without hurting Hector's pride began to coagulate.

Early tomorrow morning before the sun was up, Albert would be making a little delivery to the Webb household.

It wasn't a surprise when Farley himself stopped by the office later that same day. His face was the picture of false sympathy when he saw Albert. "Why, Doctor Ingalls, whatever has happened to you?"

Albert was hard-pressed to keep a neutral expression upon seeing the overreaching mayor. "A friend and I were accosted in an alley Saturday night."

Farley nodded. "Yes, I'd heard that. I do hope you weren't hurt too badly."

Albert pressed his lips together. "I'll live. I was stabbed in the arm."

The ingratiating mayor clucked his tongue. "Dreadful. Oh, I hope this won't affect your medical practice." Farley's expression of slyness was simple to read. Apparently he had been hoping for as much.

Albert shook his head, standing up a little straighter. "Not at all. Thankfully the knife missed the major tendons and left the muscle fairly intact. As soon as it heals, I'll be back to normal."

Farley smiled thinly. "Glad to hear it." He took a drag from his cigarette and lazily surveyed the building. "Did you, ah, see who it was?"

With such obvious malice in Farley's intent, Albert finally allowed her anger to show. This has gone far enough. It stops here. He leveled his eyes with Farley's. "Yes, actually. It was Joe Benson, Garret Duncan, and Steven Hammond. They work for you, don't they?"

Farley turned to face the young doctor. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

Albert knit his good arm with his injured one. "I simply can't figure out why those three men would want to ambush my friend and me when I've never done them any harm."

The mayor shrugged unconcernedly. "There are several people in the town who would not agree with your, ah...how should I put it? More liberal policies."

"You mean my treating people of color or different religions." Albert said bluntly.

"Exactly. I did warn you, if you remember," reminded Farley.

"Yes. I remember. I still don't see that as reason enough for an unprovoked attack."

"People lose their tempers."

"No threats were made. Nothing was said by any of those three men to give any indication they wanted to harm me. I simply thought that, as your employer, you might have some idea."

Farley's eyes narrowed coldly. "What are you implying, Ingalls?"

Albert met those eyes with an equally strong gaze. He refused to back down. "Nothing. I just want to know if those men were acting under your orders."

Heat rose in Farley's neck. In one quick motion he yanked the remains of his cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it aside. "How dare you! I am the mayor of this town. Why would I want to harm the only doctor?"

Albert shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because I treat blacks, Mexicans, Jewish, Asians, and everyone else like human beings...?"

Mayor Farley's face went from pink to red. "I am not a racist!"

Albert raised his eyebrows. "I didn't say you were. Why so defensive?"

Farley took a step closer to Albert."Look, son, you don't seem to understand how things work around here. I run a fair town. Everybody gets their share. You start giving certain people special treatment, and they get lazy. You try to change the status quo, then Ingalls, I'm warning you," said Farley, sticking his finger in Albert's chest. "You're going to be biting off more than you can chew."

Albert met Farley's eyes. "Is that a threat, Mr. Farley?"

The man looked ready to explode. He trembled with rage and looked within inches of rearing back to hit Albert in the face. Instead he whirled around in a huff and stuck a fresh cigarette back between his teeth. "You think about it, Ingalls. You think real hard." With that Farley stomped for the door. Once there he paused to look over his shoulder at Albert with a sneer. "By the way, this building is seeing quite a bit of use now. I'll have to raise the rent to keep up with expenses."

Of course you will. Albert was paying over six dollars in rent already and still doing all the maintenance himself. "No surprise. How much?" he asked.

"Another four," said Farley, lighting the new cigarette. "I expect the difference for November by the end of the week."

"Ten dollars a month? For this place?" exclaimed Albert in shock. "It was in a shambles when I moved in."

Farley took a drag on his cigarette and blew out a mouthful of smoke. "You can't afford it? Move." The look on his face said that he would love the idea.

Albert sat fuming for a few minutes. He was half tempted to give Farley a piece of his mind...or a mouthful of fist. But fighting wouldn't solve anything as long as the mayor had a handful of hired muscle and a sheriff under his thumb. Albert knew that if he got into another fight at that point he was going to lose, and badly. He was still healing from the last scrap. So he sank into his desk chair with a sigh. "I'll have your money tomorrow. Is there anything else you need, Mr. Farley...any medical complaints?" A new heart, maybe?

Farley gave a sleazy grin. "No thanks. Take care of yourself, now." And he slipped out the door.

Albert slouched into his seat and let out a long, shuddering breath, rubbing his free hand across his eyes. Things were going from annoying to downright dangerous. He had known being a doctor would be stressful, but he hadn't counted on a monopolizing mayor trying to get rid of him at every turn.

Despite this Albert knew he couldn't quit. Even if he hadn't made friends in Haywards, there was still Sylvia to think about. He couldn't leave now. Not with everything that had happened.

The next morning Albert followed through on his plan to anonymously bring a box of food to Sylvia's door. Happiness at being able to do something tangible for the family put Albert in a good mood the rest of the day. His step was light as he walked out the front door, back in shirt, string tie, vest, and jacket, medical bag in hand. It would still be another four days before the stitches in his arm could be removed, but it could be taken out of the sling and used for light duties.

Sylvia met him at the door with a very curious expression. There was suspicion there, and anger, and a little bit of worry. "Dr. Ingalls. Come on in."

This isn't because of the food, is it? Albert wondered as he tipped his hat and walked in. Hector and Tommy's expressions didn't look any different. What was going on? "Is everything all right?" he asked as he looked around the room.

Hector sat up and eyed Albert's arm. "Sylvia told me about the attack. Those animals are lucky I wasn't there. There wouldn't be enough of them left for a pine box. You feelin' any better, Ingalls?"

Albert nodded, and tried to smile. "I'm supposed to asking you that."

The humor was lost on Hector, who coughed and continued to frown. "I'm not the one who...got beat within an inch of his life. Sylvie said they hurt you pretty bad."

Albert glanced at Sylvia, whose eyes red as if she'd been crying. "It looked worse than it was. At least they didn't break any bones. I was stabbed in the arm, but that should heal soon. Other than that it was mostly bruises."

Hector seemed satisfied with this answer and allowed Albert to check his lungs. His condition had worsened, but only a little.

All the while Albert wondered what was wrong with Sylvia. She didn't seem to want to tell him in front of either her son or father. The young doctor had almost given up on getting an answer out of her by the time he headed out the door.

No sooner had the door closed than Sylvia hurried outside. "Albert...wait!"

Albert willingly stood on the poor excuse for a front porch to wait for her. "Yes?"

"I..." She shut the front door and lowered his voice. "I wanted to thank you for the food you brought this morning. Now, I know it was you," she added, seeing the look of innocence on Albert's handsome young face. "So, don't even try and deny it. But thank you. We're probably going to need it, now that-" Her voice broke.

Quietly Albert tilted his head to try and meet her eyes. "Sylvia? What's wrong?"

Sylvia closed them. When they opened, she was scowling. "That smoke-breathing, no-account, dad-blamed excuse for a man! That's what's wrong!"

"Who?" Albert wanted to know.

"Farley!" Sylvia fairly spat the name.

"Oh. Him. What did he do now?"

"He said the girls upstairs are getting too busy and the men want new women. So now everyone has to do both; wait tables and...and work upstairs."

Albert felt the temperature of his blood rise several degrees. "Everyone?" he asked, trembling with anger.

Sylvia nodded miserably. "He said anyone who didn't was out of a job. So I quit."

Relief at this information was profound. "You did?"

Sylvia's eyes flashed. "Of course I did! I told you I could never do that kind of work. But now I'm out of a job...and Farley said he'd make sure I'd never find another one in the area." Anger crumbled into tears, and Sylvia began to weep quietly.

Wordlessly Albert reached for Sylvia's shoulder to give it a comforting squeeze. He felt as if his heart would either break for sadness or burst in anger. Once Farley's men had seen him and Sylvia together, of course they would have reported this to their boss. Of course Farley would use this to his full advantage in hurting Albert. Rather than bending under the pressure, however, Albert had half a mind to march down to the Town Hall and toss Farley into next week. It wouldn't do any good in the long run. Albert would only land in jail for assault, and then where would his patients be? "Have you told your father?" he asked quietly.

Sylvia shook her head. "I can't. He always gets so upset about the lack of money and knowing where I was working. I'm afraid if I tell him, he could-" Her voice broke again, and she buried her face in her hands.

Albert nodded in understanding. Any strong shock had the potential to make Hector worse, or even kill him. With a breaking heart he wrapped a protective arm around Sylvia's shoulders "Shh. Everything is going to be all right. You hear me? It'll be all right."

Farley had crossed the line. While it was against the one of the Ten Commandments to kill someone outright, Albert had already made up his mind that if the mayor was ever shot, that bullet would stay where it was.