There was more thunder, but this was distant, a long, low, growling roar.
“The thunder, it sounds like cannon fire,” the patient said.
“I take it you have heard cannon fire on the battlefield,” Doc said.
“Yes, I was with the Second Wisconsin at Gettysburg. Colonel Fairchild’s Regiment.”
Doc put his hand on the man’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “I was at Gettysburg as well.”
“Then you know what I mean when I say it sounds like cannon fire.”
“I do indeed.”
“Who were you with?”
“I was with the Tenth Georgia, under Colonel John B. Weems, assigned to General James Longstreet’s First Army Corps.”
For a moment, the two men looked at each other. Once committed to a battle that made them deadly enemies, they were now experiencing a moment of reflection that no one else in the room could share, or even understand.
“Welcome home, brother,” Doc said.
“Welcome home, Doc,” the patient replied.
By the time Doc finished his rounds, the thunder had moved off and was now little more than a distant rumble. White was standing by a window looking outside when Doc stepped up alongside him.
“Looks like the rain has stopped,” White said.
“Harry, if you don’t mind, I’m going to leave these folks with you for a while. I think I’m going to go over to the Ox Bow to have a beer.”
“You go right ahead, Doctor,” White replied. “Lord knows you have earned it.”
The rain had left the streets a muddy quagmire, but fortunately, the school building and the saloon, though at opposite ends of the town, were on the same side of the street. Doc was able to negotiate the distance with a minimum need to walk in the mud. Nevertheless, he did have to spend a moment scraping mud from his shoes before he stepped into the Ox Bow.
The Ox Bow was brightly lit with overhead chandeliers and lantern sconces throughout. After he had spent the entire day in the makeshift hospital, the bright and cheery atmosphere of the saloon was a dramatic and very welcome change.
“Doc,” Boomer called from a table at the back of the saloon. “Come on back and join us.”
Answering the summons, Doc picked his way through the crowd toward Boomer. As he got closer, he saw that Sally was sitting with him.
“How is it going with all those people from the train, Doc?” Dave Vance asked. Vance owned the leather goods store. “Have we lost any more?”
“No, and I don’t think we will lose any more now,” Doc answered. “I think we’re through the worst of it.”
“You’re a good man, Doc,” one of the other customers said.
“Hey, ever’body, let’s hear it for Doc!” still another shouted. “Hip, hip!”
“Hoorah!”
“Hip, hip!”
“Hoorah!”
“Hip, hip!”
“Hoorah!”
“Doc, let me buy you a drink!” Vance called out to him.
“Well, I would appreciate that, Dave,” Doc replied. He pointed to the table where Boomer and Sally were sitting. “But would you mind if I took it back there to the table with Sally and Boomer? I need to get a load off my feet.”
“Doc, you can have your drink anywhere you want it,” Vance said.
“Thanks.” Doc worked his way through the crowd to Boomer and Sally’s table while shaking hands with the many well-wishers who offered to shake.
“Boomer, Sally,” Doc said as he joined the deputy and the pretty saloon owner at their table.
“Well, Doc, you ought to run for mayor or something,” Boomer said. “Right now it looks like you’re about the most popular man in town.”
“I think it’s just folks feeling pretty good about the fact that the worst is over,” Doc replied.
“And their acknowledgment of the fact that it’s because of you,” Sally said. “No, sir, Doc, whatever accolades you get now, you more than deserve.”
“Well, I appreciate that, Sally, I really do,” Doc said.
“Hey, Doc, Dave Vance is buying you a drink. What’ll it be?” the bartender called over to him.
“Hello, Fred,” Doc called back. “After this last two days, I’m not drinking for pleasure, I’m drinking for medicinal purposes. How about a whiskey, with a beer chaser?”
