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The school, founded in 1867 and named for Civil War General Oliver Otis Howard, changed his life. He began his medical studies there in 1870, and for a mountain boy who’d never been farther east than Cheyenne, the nation’s capital city of Washington, with its clanging horse-drawn trolleys and thousands of people had been daunting. He’d never been anywhere so noisy or where everyone seemed to be in such a hurry. It was also his first time seeing so many members of the race doing everything from riding the trolleys to working in storefront establishments to owning fine hotels and restaurants.
But the most life-changing event took place in his anatomy class. It was taught by Dr. Alexander T. Augusta, the first Colored man to be commissioned a major in the Union Army and the first man of the race to teach at a U.S. medical school. The first day of class, Colt was so busy staring with awe and pride, he forgot to take notes. He’d known men like him existed but he’d never seen a doctor of color before. Learning from him, being encouraged by him, and later training under him at Washington’s Freedmen’s Hospital reaffirmed his belief that medicine was indeed his calling.
Now, he was to be a husband to a woman so unconventional, she sometimes took his breath away. Had she really branded cattle? He’d done it, of course, but other than his sister, Spring, he knew few women able to accomplish such a task without succumbing to a fit of the vapors.
“Interesting times ahead,” he said to his reflection. “Interesting times.”
Downstairs he found Anna standing at the big dining room window looking out.
“Morning, Anna.”
“Morning, Papa.”
“What’s going on out there?”
“Granpa Ben and his friends are scything the grasses in the field.”
Curious, Colt walked to her side. Sure enough, his grandfather along with cronies Odell Waters, Manx Solomon, and Porter James were swinging their blades through the overgrowth.
Anna said, “They’re getting ready for the wedding.”
“Miss Carmichael and I are getting married in the parlor, honey.”
“I think the field is where all the food and eating’s going to be.”
Colt stilled. “Why do you think that?”
“When Granpa Ben was fixing my breakfast, he was grumbling about Aunt Spring, busybodies, a pig, and cake. Is that what you eat at a wedding? Pig and cake?”
Colt was outdone for a few moments. “I’m not sure. Let me go talk with Granpa Ben and see if I can get some answers.”
He headed for the door.
“What do you mean half the town’s coming?” he asked Ben impatiently.
His grandfather wiped the sweat from his brow on the sleeve of his shirt. “Your sister’s doing. Rode over before dawn, told me what she planned to do, and rode off towards town.”
“But I don’t want all this,” he said, indicating the cleared field.
Ben shrugged. “Too late. Spring thinks you and the Carmichael woman need to go all out, and you know how she is once she sets her mind on something.”
Colt blew out an exasperated breath. “This was supposed to be a small family gathering in the parlor.”
“Tell that to your sister. More than likely that woman you’re so set on marrying wanted something more highfalutin. Told you she’d be trouble.”
Colt wondered if Regan and Spring were coconspirators, but realized it didn’t matter. The horse was out of the barn and galloping across the county. In fact, he looked up to see a couple of wagons turning onto the property. One, driven by Lacy Miller, had its bed filled with chairs, trestle tables, and Lord knew what else. “I have house calls to make.”
“You eat breakfast?”
“Not hungry. Anna’s staying home from school today.”
“Why?”
“She and Spring are standing up with Regan at the wedding.”
His grandfather grumbled something unintelligible. “Okay. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“And I’d like for you to stand up with me.”
