Chapter One


The sun was slipping lower into the horizon as she rode her horse, Charlie, into the forest to stop for the night. Far enough ahead to feel a little bit of safety she turned Charlie loose to graze in a small clearing nearby, made a small fire, and cooked up her last can of stew; she'd have to stop in the next town she came to, to get more food. She could hunt if she wanted to, but that would be a waste of the little ammunition she had left and besides, what did she need with an entire animal? Meal cooked she doused the fire, burying the ashes, and settled back against a log to eat her cooling stew. Her eyes rose to stare at the night sky through the trees, watching the stars appear through the leaves that rustled in the slight breeze lazily brushing them as it passed. Turning her head a bit she caught sight of the moon, bright and full, sharing it's muted light with the world below. It was under this same kind of moon that she had fled her home nearly two months ago, though it had taken several more moths to plan. Since she was a little girl she had saved every penny from the eggs she had sold to the town folk. After twenty-two years it added up to over three hundred dollars. From her younger brother she had stolen a pair of pants, and a shirt, while she took a hat from her older brother, the only one that had ever shown the least bit of kindness to her.

And she had run. On the night of the full moon, dressed as a man, she slipped out of the empty house, past the guards on the street who were there for her 'protection' of course, out to the edge of town where Kathy was waiting with Charlie. Sitting astride her beloved horse she met her friends eyes. No words were needed, they never had been between the two women, not since the day they'd met in the schoolyard almost twenty years ago. She was poor and she was rich, yet the two were inseparable. Now, with a smile, a nod, and a wink, they parted ways, never to see each other again. Oh she might return one day to the town that had raised her, but if she did it would be in a pine box. They both knew it was the only way. Kicking Charlie into a gallop she was off, running from the hell that was her father, leaving her friend to face the fury that would come later.

She'd been running ever since. For two months, stopping only when she needed supplies, she'd ridden from her home out into the brave new world, a place she'd never seen, only heard of. Sitting against the log, her meal finished, she slid down and closed her eyes. A few hours sleep and she'd be on her way again to the nearest town.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


It was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon; the saloon was already getting underway with its customers, pouring drinks and placing bets, when a stranger walked in through the doors. No one really paid much mind; it wasn't unusual to see a strange face in the crowd at Hanks Saloon. Moving up to the bar, shrugging off one of the girls who came to hang on a shoulder, the stranger ordered whiskey. Hank moved to pour a glass when the man reached out a gloved hand and stopped him as the money to pay for the whole bottle was thrown onto the bar. Nodding Hank left the bottle and pocketed the cash, moving on to his other customers. From beneath the low brim of the hat the stranger watched the crowd of men, and the whores that worked them, not recognizing anyone. Slamming back the first shot of whiskey, feeling the burn as it slid down the back of the throat, the stranger was reaching for the bottle when the doors opened again, this time three men entered, each one scanning the crowd, looking for one person. When their gazes fell upon the stranger one of the men swaggered toward that corner, the other two moving in to disappear into the crowd, ready to be called upon if the need arose.

"That's my hat," the man said, flicking the brim with one of his fingers. "It doesn't quite suit you."

"I like it just fine."

"Chase is over, time to come home."

"Over my dead body." Looking up to meet the mans eyes it was plain to see the amusement and the determination in them.

"If you really want it that I'm sure Jenkins would be happy to oblige. Personally I won't pull the trigger."

"Pity, it'd be nice to know it was kin that killed me. Somehow it'd seem fitting. Like father like son."

Fury replaced the amusement in his eyes and the man grabbed the stranger's arm. "You're coming home with me. Pa has a few words to say to you."

"A few words or a few fists? Either way, I'm not going back."

Standing off to the side Hank listened to the conversation and knew a fight was going to break out. Grabbing a gun he kept under the bar he waited. Seconds later the stranger let a right hook fly and knocked the man out of the way, running for the door. Picking himself up the man moved, unhurriedly, to the door, the other two men emerging from the crowd to follow him. Curious most of the people in the saloon moved to the windows or the porch to watch what was happening. Outside, on horses, sat four more men, waiting for the first one to emerge. Set in a semi circle there was no place for the stranger to go. "Come on now," the man said to his trapped friend. "Let's make this easy on yourself and come home."

"Go to hell, Pete."

Laughing Pete moved from the porch and approached his opponent. "What kind of language is that from you? You really shouldn't swear."

A calm hand grabbed the gun from the stranger's backside and pointed it at Pete's heart. Finger over the trigger the strangers hand was steady, aim unwavering. Instantly the other men, both mounted and not, had their guns trained at the duo, their aim just as good. "Now come on, you know they won't hesitate to pull those triggers if you don't let up."

"Then at least I'll be dead and you'll have nothing to bring home to Pa."

Pondering the words for a moment Pete motioned for them to lower their guns. Though they did, the stranger never wavered. By now a crowd was beginning to form, watching, and waiting for someone to make a move. "Let me be and everything will be just fine."

"Now I can't do that. Pa'd string me up for good if I don't bring you back. So put the damn gun away and come with me."

Forcing his way through the crowd Mathew Cooper stopped when he got to the clearing in the center. "Whatever your problem is we don't allow guns in this town. You'll have to surrender them or leave town."

Pete smiled an amused glint in his eyes. "You heard the sheriff, best put that gun away."

Eyes never leaving Pete's face the stranger put the gun back into its place and stood, unmoving.

"You men best leave town, we don't want any fighting here."

Pete shifted his gaze to the sheriff and the entire group of men laughed. "Men!?!" he laughed. "You think this ones a man?" Pointing to the stranger he laughed even harder. "Well I'll be!" Quicker than anyone could blink Pete reached out and snatched the hat from the strangers head, tossing it a few feet away. From under it, escaping the prison that had held them there, long raven locks fell down past the waist.

"A girl!"

The cry rose from someone in the crowd, announcing it for those in the back that could not see. Astonishment and even more curiosity rose within the crowd. Pete smiled at her, knowing he'd won. "This woman is my sister who ran away from home a few months back. I'm here to bring her home to our Pa so that he can welcome her back into his family. The prodigal daughter, if you will."

At a loss for words, Matthew didn't know what to do. It was a family affair, no laws were being broken, and there was nothing he could do. Pete moved closer to his sister with an evil smile on his face. Though she backed away there was only so far she could go before the horses and riders blocked her way. When he was close enough to grab her Pete reached out a hand and grabbed her arm, yanking her closer to him with an iron grasp. "Time to go back to hell, Aing," he whispered so only she could hear him. Her anger renewed she wrenched her arm from his grasp and kicked his legs out from under him. At the last moment he grabbed her leg, pulling her to the ground with him. Fighting each other, she to get away and he to hold her there, they rolled in the dirt, fists flying. With a knee to his groin she managed to get away from him. Running to her horse Charlie she was almost to him when a shot rang out and hit her, sending her flying onto the porch of Hanks Saloon, blood soaking the wood under her.

As someone raced off to find Dr. Mike Pete got to his feet and raced to his sister. "Aingelina! Oh shit! Oh God! Don't you die on me, you hear me!?! I need a Doc!"

"Dr. Mike is coming!" Matthew said as he put his neckerchief to her wounded chest trying to stop the bleeding.

Pete got to his feet, his sister's blood on his hands and his clothing, and faced his men. "Which one? Who shot her?" he demanded. All of them looked toward one man, his gun still smoking from the shot. With murder in his eyes Pete pulled Jenkins from his saddle and threw him into the circle. Fists flying he beat the man until he was pulled away by two more of his men. Jenkins lay on the ground, bleeding from his face and cradling his ribs. "You son of a bitch! If she dies you're a dead man!" he yelled from the confines of his men's arms that held him back from killing the man where he lay.

A woman pushed her way through the crowd and stopped when she saw Jenkins lying on the ground. "Dr. Mike! Over here!" Matthew called. Passing the man Dr. Mike ran to the wooden porch and saw the woman lying there. Peeling back the blood soaked neckerchief Michaela Quinn examined the wound in her chest. "Should we move her to the clinic?"

Dr Mike shook her head. "No time, I'll have to do it here." Setting to work she cleansed the wound and her equipment with alcohol before setting to work. Swiftly but carefully she removed the bullet and set to work sewing off the veins and arteries that were bleeding. With those done she sutured the wound shut and covered it with clean bandages, all the while people gathered in close, staying far enough away so as not to crowd the doctor and her patient. Looking up she saw that there was a ring of men standing around her, back turned in, faces turned out, to offer privacy and keep the woman's honor intact as Dr. Mike had to expose her chest to get at the wound. Covering the woman's chest with a clean cloth, though her shoulders and arms were still visible, Dr. Mike turned to her son and the man who stood next to him. "Matthew, Hank, I need you to move her into the clinic as carefully as possible."

Standing up after gathering her soiled supplies, Dr Mike moved away to let the men gather the woman up. Hank took her arms while Matthew grabbed her legs and together they moved her into the clinic across the street. After she was settled into one of the recovery rooms Dr Mike emerge into the street to speak with Pete. "She's sleeping for now. The bullet hit her ribcage. Had it not been for that she would have been dead instantly. As it is she's going to need a lot of time to recuperate. She won't be leaving her bed for at least two weeks, maybe more if infection sets in. You almost lost her and I'm not going to tell you that you won't yet. There's still a chance she could die."

Pete's eyes raged. "You do everything you can to keep her alive, you hear me? The people in this town say you can be trusted so I'm leaving her in our care. I'll be back with our Pa, she'd better be here and be alive when I get back." Reaching into his pocket Pete withdrew a large wad of bills. "This is for your medical service, her room and her keep. If anything happens, I will collect it all back from you and more, you hear me?"

"There's no need to threaten me. I'll do everything in my power to keep her alive, I give you my word on that."

Nodding to her Pete climbed up onto his horse and the team of seven men, one still nursing his side, rode out of town in a cloud of dust. Watching them for a moment Dr Mike returned to her patient. With careful hands she changed the dressing that was already soaked through. As she finished her eyes were drawn to the scars along her arms and the faded bruises on her sides. It was clear that this woman had been beaten. From the limited story Matthew had told her she began to wonder if this was why the woman had run from her home. Standing up Dr Mike watched her patient for a moment before descending the stairs to write the medical call up in her journal.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


She was running from him again as he chased after her with his fists clenched in rage, through the rooms, racing towards the door in the kitchen. If she could just make it to the door she'd be safe in the blackness of night, able to hide in the many shadows, he'd never find her and she prayed he'd forget by tomorrow, he usually did when he was as drunk as he was that night. Since Ma had died he'd only gotten worse, the beatings had become a nightly event. Some nights she managed to escape, to avoid for just one night the pain a grown mans fist could inflict on her young body.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

Just as her hands grabbed the door handle he caught her by the neck, picking her up and carrying her to the water pump in the kitchen sink. Her head under the spout he cranked the handle and let the water flow, choking her as she twisted every way to pull air instead of water into her lungs. 'Don't you ever run from me girl!' he yelled. 'I'm your Pa and you'll come when I tell you, you hear me!?! You ever run from me again and I'll kill you!'


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Tossing and turning in the bed Aingelina fought the nightmares and memories in her head as though she was still there; moans of pain filling that air. Fighting the fever brought on by an infection that Dr Mike had prayed wouldn't set in. Though she'd managed to avoid it for a day or so it was two days later that the infection had taken root and spread over her like wildfire, devouring the little energy she needed to fight it. Fighting it with Quinine and root tea Dr Mike was at a loss to help, nothing was working. After several days of delirium, constant medication and cooling baths, she was resigned to wait it out, praying that with time and enough medicine the infection would die out. There was nothing else she could do. She stayed by the girls bedside day and night, Grace bringing her trays of food she could only nibble at, concern demolishing her appetite, and Colleen keeping watch with her whenever she could.

Sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the recovery room Dr Mike stared, unseeing, out the window. It was the sixth day of her patient's delirium and she was loosing hope. Arms wrapped around herself she fought the tears that threatened in her eyes. She was loosing a patient, a woman who didn't deserve to die, no one deserved it. It hurt now as much as it did when she lost her first patient. Oh she'd lost patients while she had been working with her father in Boston, but it wasn't until she came to Colorado that Dr Mike had truly lost her first patient. Charlotte Cooper, businesswoman, mother, friend. It still broke her heart to think about it. A movement from the bed pulled her attention from the past and she rose to sit on the edge of the bed next to the sick woman. Placing a cool hand to her forehead, knowing it would still burn hot; Dr Mike was shocked when the skin she touched had cooled several degrees since the previous night. There was hope yet!

Feeling a cool hand on her skin Aingelina stirred and blinked her eyes. She hurt. The pain was almost overwhelming, feeling as though she'd been kicked in the chest by a mule. Where was she? Who was this woman sitting by her bedside? A nurse? Did Pete manage to get her back home after all? She wanted to cry if that was the case. She was as good as dead. Oh she wouldn't die, Pa'd make sure of that, but she'd wish she were dead. Every day of her hellish existence some would try to call life.

Dr Mike could see the pain and question in the woman's eyes and smiled down at her. "You're safe. You were shot in the chest, and you've had a fever for several days now. It's broken though and you're going to be okay."

"Where...?"

"Colorado Springs."