Chapter 3

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Matthew determined that Andrew had kept both of his morning appointments, but that neither patient had heard him mention needing to run an errand afterwards. His next stop, then, was the saloon. Situated right across the street from the clinic, if anyone had seen Andrew leave, it would have been Hank.

"Hank. Need to talk to you."

Hearing the serious tone of Matthew's voice, Hank turned his attention away from the scantily clad girl he was chatting with at the bar. "What about, Sheriff?" he asked in his distinctive drawl.

"You see anything unusual at the clinic today between eleven and noon?"

"What kind of unusual?"

"I dunno. Andrew leaving in a hurry, or talking with someone?"

"Now that you mention it, there were these two fellas at the saloon earlier. Seemed to be keeping an eye on the clinic."

"Do you know who they were?"

Hank shrugged. "Hadn't seen 'em before. But they suddenly left to go into the clinic right before noon. Figured they were workin' up the nerve to talk to the doc about, you know, a condition."

"Did you see what happened after that?"

"No. Why all the questions?"

Matthew decided to be candid. "Andrew was supposed to take Mr. Bailey home today but seems to have disappeared. His coat and hat are gone but he left his medical bag behind. Those two men you saw… maybe they were up to no good."

"You think they took him hostage or something? City boy, hold him for ransom?"

"I don't know. All I know is that it looks suspicious."

"You goin' out to search for him?"

"Yeah. You wanna come?"

In response, Hank downed the last of the whiskey in his glass and grabbed his hat. "Take over for me, dariin'" he said to the girl before following Matthew out the door.

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After getting Mr. Bailey settled in at his home, Colleen rushed the wagon back to town to see if there was any news about Andrew.

"Nothin' yet I'm afraid," Loren said at the store. "Matthew took Hank and Robert E out to go lookin' for him. They think he might have been kidnapped."

The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. "Why would anyone want to kidnap Andrew?"

"Why does anyone get kidnapped? For the ransom money."

"But Andrew doesn't have any family here to pay a ransom."

"The people who took him might not know that," said Dorothy, who was hanging out in the store waiting for any scrap of news of the missing doctor. "All they see is a young fella in a nice suit. They might have figured he gotta have loved ones in Denver who'll pay to get him back."

"Yeah," Loren agreed, "And when they realize he don't—" he broke off, realizing where that sentence was headed.

"Colleen, maybe you should go back to the clinic to take care of things there. We'll let you know the moment we hear anything," said Dorothy.

Colleen was reluctant to leave, but realized the local newswoman was right. Without Andrew, the town didn't have anyone to provide proper medical aid should the need arise, since Dr. Mike was still at home with Katie. Colleen's skills were limited, but if someone came in with a basic cut or sprain, or needed a refill of their medication, she could handle it. And someone should be there for the folks who had made afternoon appointments and get them rescheduled.

"All right."

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Several hours later Andrew found himself standing inside the Denver jailhouse. When Mrs. Quinn had invited him out west, never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he'd find himself here!

In the front office area Deputy Sheriff Bill Hardy looked from the Wanted poster to Andrew and back to the poster. "Nice work, boys. Where'd you find him?"

"He was pretendin' to be a doctor in Colorado Springs," said Gun man.

"I wasn't pretending," Andrew protested for the benefit of the lawman. "I really am a doctor. That man on the poster, that isn't me."

The deputy smirked. "Tell it to the judge." He then resumed conversing with the pair of bounty hunters. "Colorado Springs, huh? Why didn't you have the lawman there arrest him?"

"He was on the take," said Joe. "Where's our reward money?"

Hardy held up the poster. "Does it say anything here about a reward? The standard bounty is fifty dollars. Let me lock him up then I'll get your money."

The deputy ushered Andrew into the cellblock at the back of the jail, separated from the front office by a locked door. One of the three cells was already occupied, and the prisoner looked up at the newcomer. "Do I get to talk to a lawyer?" Andrew asked Hardy. "Or at least send word to someone to let them know that I'm here?"

"One thing at a time. Just cool your heels." The door closed on the cell and Andrew heard the click of the lock.

"Hey, pretty boy," said the prisoner in the next cell once Hardy was out of earshot, "you in here for breakin' some sweet thing's heart?" The taunt was followed by a smirk.

"No," Andrew said, annoyed. "For a case of mistaken identity. I'm not the man they think I am."

"Yeah, tried that excuse myself once. Didn't work."

"No, really…" Andrew's voice trailed off. It was fruitless. Until he got his day in court and could prove he was who he said he was, he was stuck here.

He immediately decided against contacting his parents. Aside from the embarrassment of telling them he was in jail only a month after venturing out west, it would be doubly humiliating to ask them for help in getting out. They would see it as proof that the west was no place for their son, that he wasn't ready to be out on his own, and his father would demand his immediate return to Boston to take his place at Uncle John's clinic. Nor did he wish to contact Mrs. Quinn. She could vouch for him, to be sure, but then she would inform his parents. No, his only hope now was to put his faith in the good people of Colorado Springs. People he'd known for all of a month.

He sighed in resignation.

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