Magnificent Young Riders

Chapter 5: Willing to Risk Death Daily

Not many places would hire him. It didn't matter that he could read, do sums, and had a strong back. Just because of the color of his skin he couldn't support himself. He couldn't earn any money to buy his family's freedom.

His secret dream was to go to medical school. But it didn't matter how much money he earned, they would never let him in. It didn't matter how much he knew or how good he was, there were no colored doctors.

At least he had a job, one with steady pay. He was treated as an equal employee. Got the same pay, had the same hours, working the same amount. Josiah asked a lot, but it was the same for all the riders. He was even starting to make friends with the other boys. Some of them had saved his life but they didn't hold it over him they just treated him like any other rider. Thanks to Josiah's help he could at least free his family. He'd never become a doctor but he could ride. He could work on his own terms, earn his own money and that would have to be enough.

He even got to doctor some. With these boys, he worked with, he'd get plenty of experience. They were all trouble magnets, the whole lot of them. It was a good thing Josiah said the Lord watched out for fools and children because it would take a miracle for some of his fellow riders to make it to adulthood in one piece.

The two he was working with were the worst so far. The two came back from town, beat to hell a while back. While Ezra had milked his injuries, claiming pain far past the time he should; Vin pushed the limits. The crazy fool had nearly pitched off of his horse because of his injured ribs. Ezra kept claiming to have dizzy spells.

Nathan leaned against his shovel and mopped away the sweat on his brow. He sent a glare towards the lazy Southerner drinking out of a small flask. How dare he act like the master of the plantation. They were all paid to do the same job. He was ready to go over there and give him a piece of his mind.

Vin stopped hammering long enough to take in the situation. He called over to the other white boy, around a mouth full of nails, "A man never drowned himself in his own sweat, Ezra."

"A gentleman does not debase himself by engaging in menial labor," Ezra called from sitting in the shade. Nathan huffed not as angry as before but still annoyed. Chris and JD should be back today and then Ezra was scheduled to ride. At least then he could work in peace knowing the gambler was doing some kind of work. He went back to digging.

"Nathan!" Josiah hollered, running up to them, "It's J.D. He's hurt real bad."

The three boys ran after their trainer. Buck and Nettie were carrying the unconscious boy into the house. They were laying him on the table as the rest of the group barreled through the door. Nathan wasted no time washing his hands and going to his patient's side. Nettie had a rag held to the wound to slow the bleeding while Buck was running a hand through the boy's dark locks. There was an arrow sticking out of his leg. JD whimpered as Nathan's hands ghosted the fletchings. It needed to come out; Nathan had to get it out.

Going into doctor mode he recalled everything he learned from Doctor Brown. Creating a mental list of what he needed he sent Miz Wells' to get whatever she had on the list. The others scrambled to help, heating water, locate a needle and thread, and rip sheets into bandages. Everyone but Buck, he stayed glued to JD's side.

"I'm afraid I don't have any laudanum." Nettie set everything else he requested on the table next to JD's head.

"Will this suffice?" Ezra held out his small flask.

"This should work fine," Nathan began feeding it into his patient's mouth.

"Buck?" JD slurred.

"Hush now. Nathan's gonna fix you right up," Buck soothed.

"No Indians."

"That's right no more Indians. Your safe now." JD didn't hear him as he fell back into unconsciousness. He missed the arrow being broken and removed. He missed the rest of Ezra's good scotch cleaning out his wound.

Vin turned the broken shaft in his hands. "That's not made by any of the tribes."

Chris slammed the door open, entering like the angel of death, his black duster blowing in the wind.

"We've got company."

The Pony Express station didn't have any time to prepare. The heavily armed riders were nearly at their doorstep. A dozen masked riders, carrying guns and bows. They were wearing buckskins but they were no more Indians than the men who threw tea into the Boston Harbor. They had been using the Indians as scapegoats for months. Because once seen this particular group of outlaws never left any witnesses, only corpses and wagons shot full of arrows.

Nathan didn't have time to worry about what was happening outside. He was too busy focusing on the fight he was trying to win in the kitchen. Once the arrow was removed J.D. started bleeding like a stuck pig. He had to put his weight into staunching the blood flow as his patient began to fight him. Most of his assistants had been called away to the brewing fight outside so there would still be a patient for him to save. With Buck's help, he was able to stitch up and bandage the wound. After they got J.D. settled as best they could, he sent a reluctant Buck to take his place at a window. Readying his knives Nathan was ready to defend his patient to his last breath as any good doctor would do.