A/N - Thanks to everyone for reading this far! And thank you, too, for your patience as I continue to complete the crafting of this story. I thought with a revised draft in place that all that was needed was minor fine-tuning before posting, but nope! I thought wrong. The basic structure's still there, key scenes are still there, but I'm rewriting almost everything. Oh, well. I've read that professional writers can often go through three, four, five iterations of their book or script before they're happy with the final product, and I've also seen many author notes on other fanfics apologizing for long breaks between chapters, so at least I'm not alone.

Follow Your Heart – The Cook Chronicles

Chapter 7 – Heat Wave, Part One

A knock at the open door announced the visitor. "Excuse me, Dr. Cook?"

Andrew looked up from the patient file he'd been updating at his desk. Well, to be precise it wasn't his desk, it was the desk of whichever doctor happened to need it at the moment, as the two doctor's offices were shared by the physicians who staffed the hospital. Andrew had quickly adapted to sharing the space, having become accustomed to such an arrangement while working with Michaela.

"Yes, Miss Hood?"

"Dr. Cleveland wants to see you in her office," the young woman announced from the doorway.

"Certainly. I'll be right there," he replied, dismissing the student messenger. He set the file aside, for it wouldn't do to keep the dean waiting. Andrew grabbed his jacket from the coat rack before heading out. The summer heat and humidity had been particularly excessive this Thursday afternoon – the second day in a row - but arriving at the dean's office casually dressed in rolled up shirtsleeves wouldn't do either.

After leaving word at the front desk where he'd be, Andrew stepped into the bright sunshine for the short walk between buildings, curious what the college administrator wanted to speak to him about. The only time prior that they'd had a private meeting had been that very first day when she'd interviewed him and offered him a job.

The young doctor thought back to the last faculty meeting for a potential clue as to what today's discussion might be about. The talk had been the usual review of everyone's schedules and lesson plans, a reminder to be on alert for any signs of the cholera which was spreading across the country, and a long discussion concerning the contents of the latest American Journal of the Medical Sciences, one of several journals the college subscribed to. The only unusual item had been the announcement that some of the college's board of corporators would be sitting in on one of Andrew's lectures, as they typically did with new instructors, and Benjamin Wilson, the Professor of Surgery, had jovially remarked, Put on a good show, Andrew. Which had only served to make him more nervous about the board's visit. He'd decided to indeed "put on a good show" and conduct an unannounced oral quiz of the skeleton and articulations (joints), the two areas the class had covered thus far. A little unfair, perhaps, to shift the burden to the students, but he thought that would be more entertaining and informative of his teaching ability than to have the visitors sit and listen to him lecture for an hour.

The students had quickly caught on, doing their best to impress. They'd mostly gotten it right, though one poor student, clearly nervous herself at being put on the spot, had made the basic error of confusing the ulna with the radius in the forearm. There had been a few other minor mistakes, though nothing egregious to indicate that the girls weren't learning. Rather than chastise a student over a wrong answer, as had been common at Harvard, Andrew had made gentle corrections instead (following the example Michaela had set when he'd been the one to make the mistake). Overall, Andrew had been satisfied with the students' performance that day, and the board president had shaken Andrew's hand, thanking him for letting the men sit in on his session, and departing without further comment.

Andrew took a moment to settle himself and wipe his brow inside the college lobby before knocking on Dr. Cleveland's closed door.

"Come in."

Two men rose from their seats at his entrance, one of whom he instantly recognized.

"Dr. Cook, thank you for joining us," Emeline said from behind her desk as Andrew closed the door behind him. "You remember Mr. Perot, president of the board. And this is Dr. Eugene Brandt, one of our former professors."

"Yes, how do you do," said Andrew, shaking each man's hand in turn.

"Please, Doctor, have a seat," said Perot, who remained standing and was evidently taking charge of this meeting. Andrew took the chair vacated by the president. "Dr. Cook, I'll get right to the point. Members of the board were disturbed by what we observed in your class the other day. Or, rather, what we failed to observe." He frowned.

"Sir, I apologize. I know you were expecting a lecture, but I felt a quiz would be a more effective demonstration that the students were learning the material," Andrew replied, now second-guessing his choice to impress.

"Indeed. Actually, we found the presentation quite illuminating, Dr. Cook. There were concerns about you favoring your wife when Emeline told us she had hired you, but I must say, not to this extent."

"Favoring?" Andrew repeated, baffled. "I did no such thing."

"You failed to ask your wife a single question during our visit. I must say we were all terribly disappointed that would allow her to ride on your coattails and not hold her up to the standards you set for the other students."

"Wh- what? Mr. Perot, you've got it all wrong," Andrew protested. "Colleen doesn't need to ride on my coattails. I didn't call on her during your visit because I didn't want you to think I was using my wife to make me look good, and to prove that I wasn't neglecting the other students just because she's in my class."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as the other men exchanged a look. "It seems, Dr. Cook, that we misinterpreted your actions," Perot acknowledged. "And for that, I do apologize. Nevertheless, as we've already made the arrangements, I believe we should proceed with our independent review. Dr. Brandt will be taking over your class tomorrow to see Mrs. Cook's proficiency for himself."

Andrew looked to Emeline, who had a touch of sympathy on her otherwise neutral expression, but it was clear this wasn't up for discussion. If he wanted to salvage Colleen's scholastic reputation, he had no choice but to go along. "I suppose you'll want me to remain sequestered in the faculty lounge while this evaluation takes place?"

"No, Dr. Cook, that would be a waste of resources," said Emeline. "Tomorrow, you will be reviewing old patient files at the hospital to determine which ones can be discarded."

Andrew nodded his understanding. It was menial work typically done during slow periods and its meaning was clear – he was to stay away from the college while Dr. Brandt was leading his class.

"And Dr. Cook, let me emphasize that you are to say nothing to your wife about this," stated Perot. "The goal is to obtain an objective and unbiased assessment of her ability, so we do not wish her to be alerted in advance. If Mrs. Cook is as competent as you claim, you have nothing to worry about."

:

At dinner with Colleen and Amanda, Andrew had a ready answer for how his day had gone. Ever since they'd moved in with the older woman, the young doctor always tried to pick one case from his day that he could share in polite company without getting too specific or graphic (if Colleen had questions, she would ask them later in private). This evening, Andrew related how a quartet of adolescents who hadn't had the sense to take it easy in the heat had deliberately engaged in a vigorous game of tag to see who would pass out first. When one boy had actually collapsed, the others had grasped how dangerous their game was and had carried him to the hospital. Andrew had ordered an immediate ice bath for the unconscious boy, and foot soaks in ice water and rehydrating glasses of water for his friends. Once they were out of danger, Andrew excused the trio to fetch the boy's mother (after extracting a promise that they would walk, not run, and would never engage in such reckless behavior again). Fortunately, the boy had regained consciousness and didn't appear to be suffering any permanent affects, but Andrew had recommended to his mother that he stay overnight in the hospital just to be sure.

The remainder of the evening proceeded as usual, with Amanda taking care of the dishes (It's part of what you're paying me for, she'd said, when Colleen had tried to help, though the older woman had agreed that for the times they cooked together, they would clean up together). Colleen sat at the table, schoolbooks spread out, and Andrew was positioned in his usual chair reading the Evening Bulletin. Or trying to, anyway. Though there were plenty of stories that would ordinarily hold his interest – the latest on the insurgency in Spain, an assault on the warden of the Massachusetts state prison, a major fire in Baltimore, a strike by coal miners in Ohio, an accident on the Alleghany Valley Railroad, the daily update on the national cholera epidemic, reports on the current heat wave striking the eastern seaboard - Andrew found it difficult to focus on the news. Without the distraction of conversation, his mind kept returning to the meeting in the dean's office. Though confident Colleen would be able to answer whatever questions Dr. Brandt posed to her, it nagged at him that he had to deliberately keep something from her, something that affected her directly. He couldn't even let on that there'd be a substitute tomorrow! There weren't supposed to be secrets between husband and wife – not unless it involved a happy reveal at the end, like giving a gift.

Folding the paper and tossing it on the end table, Andrew announced, "I think I'll turn in early."

Colleen glanced up from her book. Andrew had made such declarations before – she'd learned it was his polite way of saying that he wanted, ahem, private time with her – but generally not on a school night, nor this soon after dinner. "Andrew?"

"I have a slight headache. This heat…" It wasn't entirely false, he told himself. Though it wasn't as hot as it had been at mid-day, it was still plenty warm. At least in the privacy of their room he could take off his clothes to cool down some, leaving his drawers on for modest nightwear. "You should study." He immediately turned and headed upstairs.

Colleen watched him go with a frown. She'd only ever seen him sick once, that time with spotted fever. He'd initially brushed it off as a simple catarrh, only to learn it was something much worse. Was he doing it again, trying to put on a brave face for her benefit? It wouldn't hurt to check… Colleen hastily bookmarked the page and set her notebook aside to follow him upstairs.

Andrew hadn't bothered to light a lamp, the setting summer sun providing sufficient light to undress by. He'd only gotten as far as unbuttoning his vest when Colleen came into their room.

"Andrew, are you alright? Can I get you anything?"

Andrew sighed. Naturally, she was worried about him, and he couldn't fault her for that.

"No, darling, I'll be fine. I just have a lot on my mind…"

"Something you can't share?"

It startled him how inadvertently accurate her question was. However, Andrew knew she was speaking of medical ethics, that doctors couldn't always divulge what happened with their patients. He wished that were true this time, wished he didn't have to mislead her into a false assumption. "I'm afraid not."

"Well, I'll leave you alone then." She turned away to go back downstairs.

"Colleen, wait." She did as he asked, and Andrew stepped closer to her lovely, caring face. He brought a hand to her chin, raising her mouth for a better angle. Maybe he couldn't tell her about tomorrow, but he could sort-of apologize for it in advance - and distract himself in the process.

Without another word, he kissed her, and in short order his hands went to her bodice, working the buttons one by one.

:

"Good morning."

"Mmm, 'morning," Colleen replied as her eyes fluttered open to find Andrew lying on his side, gazing at her. "Did I oversleep?"

"No, I woke early. You know what they say, 'early to bed, early to rise…'" he joked.

"Andrew…"

"Look, Colleen, I'm sorry. I wasn't… I didn't mean for you to miss out on studying last night. I just..." he trailed off, trying to explain what he couldn't explain, and sighed his frustration. "I wish I could explain further. But I can't. Not at this time."

Not at this time. It made Colleen more determined than ever to earn her medical degree, when they'd be able to freely exchange information about any patient, any time. "It's alright. I know sometimes you can't tell me everything. When I have my degree, you won't have to keep things secret anymore." She inched over so he could wrap his arms around her for a few minutes of cuddling before it was time to start their day.

Andrew held his wife, inwardly cringing. Though he, too, looked forward to the day they'd be professional partners as well as personal ones, he didn't like misleading her like this. Fortunately, everything would be cleared up in a matter of hours. Dr. Brandt would quiz Colleen, she would impress him, Andrew would be able to find her during the lunch hour to explain the entire story, and that would be that. Hopefully, the entire matter would become a footnote in their lives, something they'd be able to laugh about when telling stories of Colleen's years in medical school.

God willing, stories they'd tell their children one day...

:

The mid-summer day promised to be another hot and humid one - part of a string of days where the temperature had climbed higher than normal – even though everyone said the heat couldn't possibly last another day. Andrew was glad that he didn't have a job requiring manual labor outdoors. It was stifling enough indoors, even with all the windows open, but at least he'd be out of the sun. The city's dock workers and other outdoor laborers, such as the men constructing the new city hall, wouldn't be so lucky.

Andrew made sure Colleen was already inside the library before he headed reversed direction and headed back out. He had needed to keep up the pretense of preparing for class this morning, accompanying Colleen to school per Perot's instruction that she remain unaware of what was about to happen. In the meantime, of course, he'd be ensconced in the hospital basement, evaluating old patient files.

:

For Colleen, the first hour of her day was uneventful as it was always spent studying in the library. She didn't need to arrive early at school if she didn't have morning hospital duty, but she and Andrew liked to take the time to walk together in the morning, as they didn't always head home at the same time. Arriving early also meant choice of table, as the library filled up the closer it came time for lectures. Then congestion reigned in the hallways and stairwell as the students headed up to class. Today, though, there was an unusual bottleneck in the doorway as the first students entered and came to a confused halt, jolted by who was there.

Or rather who wasn't there.

Eyes immediately turned in Colleen's direction. She didn't understand the numerous stares until she herself managed to enter the room and saw the stranger standing in front.

Who's that? Where's Andrew?

Colleen felt a momentary twinge of panic as she thought something awful must have happened to him in the hour since she'd last seen him. Then she realized that this had to be connected somehow with Andrew's secret, what he had been fretting over. Colleen went from panic to understanding to confusion in quick succession. Why couldn't he tell me he wouldn't be giving the lesson today?

She took her seat in a daze and exchanged a glance with Deborah and Hannah, who were giving her the same quizzical looks as everyone else. Colleen shrugged and gave a small shake of her head. She had no more knowledge of what was going on than they did.

"Good morning, class."

"Good morning," they answered as a group.

"I am Dr. Brandt. Dr. Cook is otherwise engaged this morning, so I will be conducting your anatomy lesson today. Now, then, I believe you recently concluded articulations and had begun study of the muscles…"

Colleen found Dr. Brandt's explanation lacking. Andrew was otherwise engaged? Doing what? And why was it a big secret that Andrew couldn't share with his own wife?

"…Mrs. Cook?"

Colleen startled. "Yes?" It wasn't like her to let her mind wander like that, but then again, this didn't seem to be an ordinary day.

The doctor frowned. "I'm not accustomed to repeating myself, Mrs. Cook," he said, clearly annoyed she hadn't been paying attention. He repeated the question and looked at her expectantly.

Colleen stood to answer the question, offering more than the basic information requested.

Sitting beside her, Hannah and Deborah were concealing smiles. To them it had sounded like a trick question, and their friend had answered it with flying colors.

"It seems you may have been paying attention after all, Mrs. Cook," Brandt conceded, then continued with his lecture.

Colleen breathed a little easier the rest of the hour, though she was still troubled by Andrew's absence. When the class was over Colleen gathered her things slowly, hoping the doctor would pull her aside to explain what was going on. He did not do so, clearly bound by the same oath of silence Andrew was. Dr. Brandt simply sat at the front desk, making notes. The professor looked up to see Colleen lingering and said, "Good day, Mrs. Cook," dismissing Colleen from the room.

It wasn't surprising that about a dozen of her classmates were waiting for her to emerge from the lecture hall, eager for an explanation.

"Well, well, if it isn't teacher's pet," Mary Beth said sarcastically.

Deborah sided up to Colleen. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Isn't it obvious? The board saw how Dr. Cook went easy on her during their visit. He always favors her. I'm not surprised they decided to replace him."

"Is that true, Colleen?" asked Fanny. "Dr. Cook's been replaced?"

"I… I don't know," she admitted, dazed at this possibility. "Andrew wouldn't tell me anything."

"Of course, he wouldn't. He's probably too ashamed to admit it was his own fault, coddling you," goaded Mary Beth.

"But he hasn't... Andrew's made sure not to treat me as teacher's pet."

"But you are teacher's pet. You sleep with the teacher… it doesn't get more obvious than that!"

It was Hannah's turn to speak up for her friend. "You're just jealous, Mary Beth. Colleen's the most advanced in our class. She doesn't need special favors to outrank us."

"No, of course not. Who needs favors when everything's just handed to her on a silver platter?" Mary Beth retorted bitterly. "Years of apprenticing with her mother, matriculating into medical school at eighteen, marrying a fine doctor… well, it's not so easy for the rest of us! Having to study in secret so the neighbors won't call you a freak, pretending to be no more than a nurse so you can attend patients in your father's practice, having the man you adore reject you in disgust when he finds out you want to be a doctor…" the young woman's voice broke in misery as she fought back tears. Frances put a consoling arm around her while the others looked on with stunned silence.

"I'm sorry that it hasn't been easy for you, Mary Beth," Colleen said gently after a moment, "but you've got it all wrong about me. I've had a hard time, too. My real pa left when I was seven, and my real ma died when I was twelve," Colleen stated calmly, generating shocked expressions from those grouped around her. Only Hannah and Deborah had been privy to their friend's full story until now. "I might have ended up in an orphanage if Dr. Mike hadn't taken in my brothers and me, and even when she did, it wasn't always easy. She didn't know how to cook, so I did all the cooking."

"You mean you didn't have servants?" Frances asked in astonishment.

"We didn't have money for servants. We did chores."

Dumbfounded by the revelation of Colleen's humble origins, Mary Beth said quietly, "I didn't… I didn't realize..."

Colleen was equally sympathetic. "I didn't know those things about you either."

Before anything more could be said, Dr. Brandt exited the lecture hall. "Why are you all loitering in the corridor?"

Fanny asked the question on everyone's mind. "Dr. Brandt, has Dr. Cook been fired?"

"What? How did you… never mind." Brandt's eyes darted to Colleen. He felt sorry for her, worrying about her husband, but it only proved that today's test had been a fair one, that she hadn't received advance warning. "Your husband is an honorable man, Mrs. Cook. Rest assured all will be revealed shortly. Now, ladies, if you'll excuse me." And with that, he walked away.

"That wasn't very encouraging," Deborah commented as the group watched his departing figure.

"Mary Beth could be right," Mary Hood said suddenly. "I saw Dr. Cook, Dr. Brandt, and Mr. Perot in Dr. Cleveland's office yesterday."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" asked Hannah.

"I didn't know who Dr. Brandt was until today. Besides, I assumed Dr. Cook would tell Colleen anything noteworthy, and she'd share it with us."

The girls grew silent again and looked at Colleen, but she was still as much in the dark as they were. Fear began rising in her chest. Andrew, fired? But why? And why would it be a secret? Unless Mary Beth was right, and he was too humiliated to tell her…

"We need to get to class," Fanny said finally.

The group trudged up to the third floor, but, at the top of the stairs, Colleen changed her mind. How could she possibly concentrate on chemistry? And it'd only be worse after class, when word would spread to the second-year students, if it wasn't spreading already…

Abruptly, Colleen pivoted and charged down the stairs.

"Colleen!" Hannah called out. She looked at Deborah in dismay, who shook her head no. They shouldn't go in pursuit of their friend; attendance was part of their grade. Instead, both girls filed into the room, the last to do so.

When the students had settled down, the chemistry professor took stock and frowned. "Where's Mrs. Cook?"

Hannah stood to answer the question. "I'm sorry, Miss Bodley, she ran off."

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Ran off? Whatever for?"

"She was upset because of what happened with Dr. Cook."

The woman's eyebrows knitted together, bemused. "What do you mean 'what happened with Dr. Cook?'"

It was Hannah's turn to be confused. "Don't you know?"

"Apparently not, Miss Jacobs. Enlighten me."

"Well… he was fired. Or we believe he was fired."

Rachel was taken aback. "Fired?" Her eyes roamed the room, addressing the entire class. "On what basis do you make this claim?"

From the professor's reaction, Hannah thought that they had made a terrible mistake. She glanced at Mary Beth, whose head was lowered, avoiding everyone's gaze. Deborah stood to help out her friend. "There was a meeting yesterday in Dr. Cleveland's office… and today Dr. Cook wasn't in class, and Dr. Brandt wouldn't tell us why. Even Colleen is in the dark."

"I see. And that was sufficient information for you to conclude that he'd been terminated." Rachel scowled. "Ladies, you are fortunate this isn't your Practice of Medicine class. You would all receive a failing grade today for your incorrect diagnosis." She let that sink in before adding, "For your information, Dr. Cleveland explained Dr. Brandt's presence to me yesterday. She said Dr. Cook had been assigned a special project at the hospital and that Dr. Brandt was filling in for him as a guest lecturer." Hannah and Deborah exchanged an uneasy look, as did many of the other students. "Now, then, I suggest Miss Jacobs and Miss Williams search the building to give Mrs. Cook the good news and return her to class."

As the girls started to leave, Hannah paused. "Miss Bodley, what if we can't find her?"

Their instructor sighed. "Then you'll be returning to class without her, unless you, too, wish an incomplete for today."

:

Over at the hospital, Andrew discovered his temporary assignment had provided a welcome distraction. He'd initially thought it would be difficult to think of anything other than Dr. Brandt questioning Colleen, but once he actually got down to work, he found himself inevitably drawn into the case files. What had become of these patients who hadn't been seen at the hospital in a decade? Obviously, most of the male children had aged out of eligibility to be treated at the facility, but that didn't stop the twenty-seven-year-old from wondering what had become of them, or the women or other children. Had they moved away? Passed away? Ended up at an orphanage or poorhouse? Their fates would likely never been known. Andrew dutifully moved the obsolete records into a pile to be burned in the basement fireplace.

Just what the day needs, he thought. More heat.

:

After walking two blocks at a rapid clip, Colleen slowed to a more measured pace. It was just too hot and humid to continue exerting herself, and already she'd almost been run into by a passing carriage when she hadn't checked if it was safe to cross the intersection. It wouldn't help anything for her to be injured. So, she slowed down, but remained distracted by thoughts of the discussion with her friends.

Was Andrew really too ashamed to tell her that he'd lost his job? That didn't seem like him. Maybe he just hadn't wanted to say anything until he had secured another position. Maybe he'd even asked Dr. Brandt to ask her the trick question as a way to remind her to pay attention in class and not think about him.

Although… even if all that were true, it didn't explain why Andrew had been fired in the first place. Mary Beth had suggested that the board hadn't liked the fact that he appeared to be treating her as teacher's pet. Yet Andrew hadn't been giving her special attention in class; in fact, most of the time he gave a didactic lecture, and when he did call on students, Andrew made sure he didn't pick Colleen too often…

Oh. Hadn't Mary Beth said Andrew had been coddling her? Maybe it was true, then, from Mary Beth's perspective, that he was going too easy on her. But that wasn't something one got fired for, was it? It seemed more like a minor infraction, deserving of a warning or reprimand. And Dr. Cleveland had been eager to hire Andrew even knowing there might be accusations of favoritism. No, Colleen thought, wiping her damp brow with her sleeve, it has to be something else, something far more serious…

The young woman stopped in her tracks as the realization dawned. The hospital. Andrew spent most of his day there, not the college. If he was going to be fired for anything, it would have been for a misdeed at the hospital. Such a misdeed even had a specific term in the medical profession.

Malpractice.

They hadn't covered the topic yet in her Practice of Medicine class, but Colleen only had to search her memory for an example. She'd been in Denver at the time, but Dr. Mike had told her what happened when she'd returned home for a visit.

Resuming her walk, Colleen recalled the story.

A lawyer and his wife had gone to Dr. Mike when their baby fell ill. They sued her for malpractice when the baby died shortly thereafter. A judge came to town for a preliminary hearing, and Andrew had been forced to testify against her, admitting that he would have used a conventional treatment for the diagnosis of 'cholera infantum' instead of the Indian tea Dr. Mike had used. The judge had temporarily forbidden Dr. Mike from practicing medicine, suspending her license, and had ordered her to pay two thousand dollars in restitution to the aggrieved couple. It was not until a few days later that Dr. Mike was able to prove to the medical board that it had been a contaminated infant bottle, and not her use of a natural remedy, which had caused the baby's death. Subsequently, all charges and fines were dropped, and Dr. Mike had resumed her practice.

All at once, everything fell into place. Andrew wasn't fired – at least, not yet. There would first have to be a hearing before the medical board, and that's what Dr. Brandt had meant by otherwise engaged, for Andrew couldn't be in two places at once! The secret meeting in the dean's office yesterday was to tell Andrew he was being accused and to arrange for Dr. Brandt to cover for him in class while he was at the hearing. Dr. Cleveland may have asked that he not discuss the matter with anyone else until they knew one way or the other how the board would rule, for the sake of the college's (and hospital's) reputation. And Andrew – honorable man that he was - would not even share what was happening with his own wife, stoically shouldering this burden alone, not wishing to worry her until he knew for certain his fate...

Colleen's heart went out to her husband. His career was in jeopardy - and along with it, their dream of working together - and she had inadvertently poured salt into the wound this morning with talk of them becoming colleagues.

"Oh, Andrew…"

:

Having searched the college to no avail, Hannah and Deborah decided they should inform Dr. Cook of what had transpired before returning to class.

"Excuse me, Dr. Cook?"

Sitting at a table in rolled up shirtsleeves while reviewing a file, Andrew startled at the unexpected voice. He'd lost all track of time, engrossed in his task. "Miss Jacobs? Miss Williams? What brings you here?"

"It's Colleen," replied Hannah. "She rushed off before Chemistry, and we haven't been able to find her. We've checked everywhere, including the water closets. She must've gone home."

Andrew frowned. "Was she feeling ill before she rushed off?"

"She was upset," Deborah explained. "We were talking after class about your absence, and, um… it was suggested that you might have been fired."

"Fired? Colleen thinks I've been fired?"

"We're very sorry, Dr. Cook," said a remorseful Hannah. "It was just speculation..."

Andrew swore silently, scrubbing a hand down his jaw to compose himself. Never underestimate the power of a woman's imagination… He longed to go home to his wife, to comfort her and explain that he was still very much gainfully employed, but his workday wasn't over. And he couldn't ask a student to run a personal errand, that would be against the rules. The best he could hope for would be to ask Susan if he could leave early today, if things weren't too busy later - though with the heat, that probably wasn't likely.

Well, there was one concrete action he could take now. "I would appreciate it if you would spread the word that I have not been fired."

"Miss Bodley took care of that," Deborah informed him.

Andrew nodded. Unfortunately for Colleen, the information hadn't come soon enough. "All right. You should get back to class."

The girls hurried out, and Andrew turned back to the files. Damn. So much for laughing about this afterwards… well, perhaps they still might, once Colleen found out it was all a big misunderstanding. He just wished she wasn't going to spend the rest of the day upset, thinking he was out looking for a job. Perhaps he could take her out to dinner to make it up to her, since this mess had all started with him…

With a frustrated sigh, Andrew reached for his water glass and found it empty. It was hot in the basement – well, it was hot everywhere today - and he briefly had to make it hotter, burning the files that were deemed no longer necessary. The sooner he did that, the sooner he could get upstairs and quench his thirst.

:

Wiping her damp brow with her sleeve, Colleen turned the corner. Her feet had carried her home, to the street where they lived. Clasping the knob, she was surprised to find the door locked – and belatedly remembered that this wasn't small town Colorado Springs; this was the big city where people locked the door when no one was home. Unfortunately, in her haste to leave the college she hadn't stopped to ask Amanda for the key; moreover, Andrew possessed the only spare.

Now what? The day's swelter would only increase by the hour, and she knew she shouldn't be out in the heat. She could try going to Mrs. Fillmore's a few doors down but that would involve a lot of explaining of why she was there in the middle of the day instead of at school, when all she really wanted was to be alone and not have to talk to anyone – not until she could talk to Andrew, that is.

Licking her dry lips, Colleen tried to think where else she might go. If she were back home, in Colorado, she'd be able to go into the woods, into the ample shade, take a swim in the creek…

Of course!

Colleen shifted her books to her other arm and set off for Fairmount Park. She wouldn't be able to go for a swim in the Schuylkill – not without a bathing suit - but surely, she could find a private spot to remove her boots and stockings to soak her feet awhile, which sounded heavenly… and at the very least, the park would provide her with plenty of shade to rest in and not be bothered.

Heading west towards the park, the eighteen-year-old's thoughts couldn't help but return to her husband, defending himself against a charge of malpractice. She reviewed the last several weeks' worth of stories Andrew had shared during dinner. All seemed to be straightforward, always a happy outcome - but then again, he wouldn't share a sad story over dinner, would he? Though she couldn't remember him looking particularly sad or troubled, not since the day they had postponed their wedding. So… what else might it be? He'd performed two surgeries in Dr. Wilson's absence, and as far as Colleen knew they'd both gone well. Unless… there'd been a complication later? And the patient – or the patient's family - blamed Andrew?

It was frustrating, not knowing. Colleen wiped the perspiration from her brow again. Summers in Colorado weren't like this, not this moist air that felt like an extra layer of sweat. Her head was starting to throb, too. She wished now that she'd stopped at Mrs. Fillmore's for a drink of water after all. She could have made up some excuse… She'd had nothing since breakfast, and she was getting so thirsty! The sun was almost directly overhead, relentless, and the park was still many blocks away. It didn't help that she'd taken a slight detour to avoid going near the college and hospital, adding to the length of her route.

There was nothing to do for it but soldier on, the way the soldiers had in the Independence Day parade. If they can march for an hour, so can I… but they didn't have to wear a corset, or petticoats… men are so lucky, they don't have to wear a corset… and they can take off their jackets when it gets hot… it's so hot… don't think about that, think about the park and the shade… and the river, all that water to soak my feet… and drink something, find a lunch wagon… there'll be a lunch wagon at the park, and then I can have a drink and sit and soak my feet… that will feel so good… just sit there at the river, soaking my feet… in the shade… I need to keep going, get to the river… make it to the shade… and a drink… get a drink… lunch wagon… so thirsty… it's so hot… my head hurts… get a drink… I'll feel better… get to the park… and the shade… the park… the river… the river…

As her thoughts became more and more fragmented, Colleen's pace slowed, her steps more uncertain. Her body began to sway, and without warning her books slipped from her grasp and she crumpled to the ground.

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Author Notes:

-The American Journal of the Medical Sciences began in 1827 in Philadelphia. Although its ownership changed, it is still published today.

-There was a national cholera epidemic in the summer of 1873. It started in New Orleans, reaching as far east as Pittsburgh, as far north as Minneapolis, and as far west as Salt Lake City before subsiding in the fall.

-The Bulletin's articles are taken from actual New York Times headlines for July & August 1873. And while this chapter was inspired by Joe Lando's DVD commentary about how hot it got while filming out at Paramount Ranch, I was pleasantly surprised to find that yes, an east coast heat wave made the news in 1873 with these headlines: "The Heat: The Oppressive Temperature Yesterday, it's Effects in the City"; "Prostrated by the Heat"; and "Sun-Strokes in the City: Overcome by the Heat".

-The proverb "Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise" dates at least to 1639 and is found in the 1735 edition of Poor Richard's Almanack.

-Credit for the invention of the lunch wagon usually goes to Walter Scott of Providence, Rhode Island, in 1872. Others quickly adopted the idea, which eventually evolved into modern day food trucks.