Chapter 4

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Another week went by. Another week with a recurring pattern – a stroll in Boston Garden with Elizabeth in the morning, an early afternoon luncheon or tea by themselves or with others, and shopping or a visit to a public institution in the later part of the day - social activities where Colleen could watch and practice society manners in a highly abridged and condensed version of finishing school.

Colleen found it odd to be addressing people her own age as Miss So-and-So rather than by their first names. At college, formalities with the girls in her boarding house had been dropped during the first week, if not the first day. That seemed not to happen here. Well, not with her. Colleen was an outsider and thus treated as one. After polite chatter, in which they discovered she was attending actual college, not finishing school, and was only in town for the summer, the girls moved on to other topics of interest to them – teachers and other students at their schools, events and activities in which Colleen had not participated in, and, notably, young men she was unacquainted with. Whenever the conversation turned to beaux and potential suiters, Colleen sat mutely, uncomfortable, wishing she was anywhere else but there. It was increasingly depressing to repeatedly answer 'no' whenever she was asked if she had a young man of her own.

Thankfully the social visits were no more than an hour or two. If there wasn't a dinner party that evening or other reason to go out with her grandmother, Colleen would head to the library or natural history museum or art museum for the rest of the afternoon. After supper, she would take up the needlepoint that Elizabeth had provided, and they'd sit and sew together, chatting about the day or items from the newspaper. Not that Colleen really needed to practice sewing - as she had been doing it most of her life on actual clothes - but it is what proper young ladies in society did. In a house full of servants, there was no need for Colleen to clean anything, or cook anything – the meal for Andrew being the exception.

She had thought it so grand, to live a life of luxury, when she had been here last. Now, though, dispirited over Andrew's rejection, Colleen would lay in bed before falling asleep and focus on its limitations. She missed her family and taking care of Katie. She missed cooking for them. She missed talking with Becky, someone she knew. And she missed medicine. There wasn't a clinic here for her to work at. She had brought a physiology book to study over the summer, but in the days immediately following her dinner with Andrew she had found it difficult to concentrate on the words.

She wrote two letters home – one for her family and one for Becky – outlining her daily life in Boston. She mentioned having Andrew over for supper, but not anything about her hurt feelings, nor anything about her homesickness. She had lobbied hard to come to Boston, and she needed to live with that choice.

"Miss, there's a message for you," Harrison said one day.

"For me?"

It was from Andrew, the promised invitation to a clinical lecture at the hospital. It would be difficult to see him again, but she really wanted to attend the lecture. Plus, even though her feelings had been hurt, she told herself that Andrew was right. Just because they weren't more than friends didn't mean they couldn't still be friends. She need look no further than Loren Bray and Dorothy Jennings to see that. Loren had pined for Dorothy for years, but she never returned the sentiment. So instead, they had become good friends.

If Mr. Bray could do it, so could she.

Right?

Colleen wrote back accepting the invitation.

Thus, a few days later, he was calling for her. Well, in a manner of speaking. This wasn't a personal call. Not formally. It was to be two friends socializing, nothing more. And, perhaps it was for the best. There had been a letter the day before from Brian with news.

Very troubling news.

Sully had participated in an uprising at the reservation, wishing to help Cloud Dancing and the other Indians escape to freedom in the northern territories. Things had quickly gotten out of hand, however, and Colorado Springs was now a war zone.

Sergeant O'Conner was dead, along with a dozen Indians, and others had been injured. Dog soldiers made regular raids on the town, putting all citizens in harm's way. Matthew's homestead was one of several which had been destroyed, and he had quit his job as sheriff to help look for Sully, who had vanished. Dr. Cassidy had also resigned his post at the Chateau to return to Denver, declaring Colorado Springs far more dangerous than he anticipated. Daniel Simon had arrived to help look for Sully. The family had found him but were keeping it a secret because Sully was now a fugitive, wanted for murder and treason. Dr. Mike wanted Colleen to keep the secret, too, and not tell even Elizabeth. They wanted a chance to clear Sully's name.

There's nothing you can do here, Brian's letter concluded. Katie is staying in town with Grace and Robert E. Ma wants you to stay with Grandma where it's safe and enjoy yourself.

Despite her mother's advice, Colleen was now wondering if she should leave Boston early. How was she supposed to enjoy herself when so much was going on at home, when her little sister was in danger?

She was so absorbed in her thoughts she didn't hear Andrew enter the parlor.

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Having been directed by Harrison that Colleen was waiting for him in the parlor, Andrew was stunned by the sight that greeted him there. It was Colleen, seated at a desk in profile, reading a letter. She was wearing a fitted sky-blue dress with a high lace collar, a small bustle in back. The dress was clearly one that she had not sewn herself. It didn't even look like it was within her budget, as he knew the Sully family was of modest means. Most likely Elizabeth had bought it for her, knowing she would be attending the lecture today. In addition to the fancy dress, Colleen's hair was up in an elaborate braid, topped with a hat that matched the blue of the dress. White lace kid gloves and a draw-string purse completed the look.

The overall effect was that of a proper young lady. A young lady that, had she lived in Boston full-time, would be attending a coming out party.

After gawking for a moment, Andrew realized he should announce his presence. "Colleen."

She was startled out of her thoughts. "Andrew." She hastily put the letter back in its envelope and tucked it into her purse.

He considered complimenting her appearance, as she had obviously gone through a lot of effort for today's outing, then changed his mind. As nice as she looked, it wouldn't be appropriate as he wasn't trying to woo her. Instead, he focused on her countenance. "Forgive me for prying, but I hope that wasn't bad news. The letter you were reading. You looked troubled."

She sighed before standing up. "A letter from Brian. The army's declared martial law. There was an uprising at the reservation and Cloud Dancing and some other Indians escaped. And the dog soldiers have been terrorizing people, blowing things up. Matthew lost his homestead and quit his job as sheriff. Dr. Cassidy quit his job, too."

Andrew was as startled by this turn of events back in Colorado as he had been by Colleen's appearance. The papers reported skirmishes with the Indians, but he hadn't been paying close attention to those articles. Perhaps he should start reading them more closely. "I'm sorry to hear that. Did you say, 'dog soldiers'?"

"They're a group of Indians who care more about causing trouble than making peace."

"Can Sully help in any way? I know he's no longer serving as the Indian Agent, but he understands their ways better than anyone."

She hesitated before answering him. "The dog soldiers don't listen to him. They never have."

"Oh." That was disappointing to hear, and perhaps explained her pause before answering, sadness at knowing that there was nothing her adoptive father could do. "Will you be returning home, then, to be with your family?"

"I don't know. Ma thinks that I should stay here where it's safer."

"Well, perhaps that's for the best. I would hate to think of anything happening to you." Colleen stared at him, and Andrew realized that the sentiment had been too personal a revelation, even if true. "Uh, well, naturally I don't wish harm on anyone," he tried to clarify. He cleared his throat. "Shall we?" Offering his arm, he escorted her to the foyer. "Please inform Mrs. Quinn I'll have Colleen back in a few hours," he informed Harrison.

"Yes, sir."

After exiting the home Andrew assisted Colleen into the horse-drawn cab and sat across from her.

"Thanks inviting me today," she said once they were underway.

"My pleasure. Have you attended a lecture before?"

"Lots of them. At school."

He smiled appreciatively, glad to hear she had regained her usual cheerful spirit. "How foolish of me. What have you been studying?"

"Latin, history, art, trigonometry, geology, biology, and physiology. Trigonometry was the worst. I only got an A minus in that. But I loved my human physiology class. I knew a lot already from working with Ma."

"You're fortunate to have such a head start, having worked with your mother. Medical school will be much easier for you than it was for me."

"If I get accepted."

"I don't understand why you continue to doubt that, Colleen. You're so optimistic about everything else."

She paused to consider her answer. "I guess because there are so few chances for women to become doctors. If I wanted to be a teacher, it wouldn't be so hard."

"I see your point."

"Do any woman doctors attend the lectures?"

"Yes, on occasion. Not many, of course. I presume they're graduates of the New England Female Medical College. You'll be applying there?"

"Yeah. And the school Ma went to in Philadelphia."

"Ah, yes, nepotism," he said cheerfully. "Never hurts to have a parent open the door for you. As well I know from personal experience."

"Your father went to Harvard?"

"As did my grandfather and great-grandfather. Should I someday be blessed with a son, I expect he will also walk its hallowed halls to carry on the Cook family tradition."

Colleen looked down at her lap in response, and Andrew realized too late that he had been insensitive, bringing up a touchy subject. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Naturally, having been sweet on him, Colleen might have fancied thoughts of marriage and children. Those thoughts wouldn't just vanish overnight. She needed time to get over them, like mending a broken bone. And he needed to switch topics, and fast. "So, uh, what have you been doing since you've been here?" Besides pine for me, he added silently.

"Mostly going to teas and luncheons with Grandma. And I finally got to see the art museum. We didn't do that the last time I was here."

"What did you think?"

"So much beauty. I could never do anything like that."

"Have you tried?" he teased.

"In my art class. Mostly it was studying art, but to gain a better appreciation for the artist we each had to create a drawing, a painting, and a small clay sculpture."

"What did you sculpt?"

"Most of us kept it simple and made a vase. Mine leaked."

He smiled in amusement. "Well, we can't all be Michelangelo, can we?"

"I'm glad it didn't affect my grade. But you know, I think that was my favorite part of the museum. The human sculptures. Just thinking of the time it took carve the figure, the intricate parts…" Colleen paused as a slight blush rose in her cheeks. Andrew smiled but remained silent, aware that not all of the figures wore fig leaves. It was delightful, however, observing the rosy glow on her face again - the same glow she had had during their riding lessons in Colorado Springs, the same glow she had had when welcoming him to supper here in Boston. It was most becoming on her. Andrew forced himself to refocus on what she was saying. "It reminded me of surgery, the artist working with their hands. Except they're using a knife on marble or bronze instead of human tissue."

"I've never thought of it that way before." And then he couldn't help but chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"Your comment about sculpting resembling surgery. I was just trying to picture a sculpture of the intestine."

Colleen giggled. "I don't think people would appreciate that."

"Certainly no one outside the medical profession." The thought gave him pause.

Of course, she noticed his change of expression. "What?"

"Oh, um, just that you understand what I mean without my having to explain it. You know exactly how the intestine is shaped. And you're neither repulsed by the idea nor bored by talking about it."

"You mean this isn't something you would discuss in polite society?"

Andrew detected her teasing tone, but the question sobered him further, hitting the mark. "No, it's not," he said, shrugging it off.

"I'm sorry, Andrew. I didn't mean to offend you."

He nodded. "Apology accepted." He paused, searching for something else to talk about. "You said you had studied Latin. I admit I'm somewhat rusty. It's useful in medicine, of course, but not conversationally. Why don't we try latine loquitur?"

They attempted to converse in Latin, bringing smiles to both their faces again, for the remainder of the ride to the hospital.

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A/N – The show only ever mentioned by name the Woman's Medical College of Pennsylvania (1850) in Philadelphia, but three other medical schools for women existed at the time: the New York Medical College for Women (1863, whose staffing was all male); the Woman's Medical College of the New York Infirmary (1868, whose staffing was all female and was co-founded by Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell, the first woman to earn a medical degree from a regular (all-male) school); and the New England Female Medical College (1848) based in Boston. The Boston school encountered financial difficulties in the 1870's, however, and after Harvard University rejected the idea of a merger, NEFMC merged with Boston University's medical school to become one of the very few co-ed programs then in existence.

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