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“Where are you going?”
“Rock Springs. Where’s Anna?”
“Lucretia invited her to visit for a few days since there’s no school.” She watched him open a chest and begin withdrawing medical supplies and placing them in his doctor’s bag. “Has someone been hurt in Rock Springs?”
He nodded. “The White miners are massacring the Chinese. Same madness going on in Green River and Almy. Whit’s gathering a posse and has asked me to come along.”
Her heart stopped. “How long will you be away?”
“A few days? A week? I’m not sure. Union Pacific is sending a special train that’ll take us from Cheyenne to there.” He paused his preparations to walk over and ease her into his arms and against his heart. “You’ll take care of yourself while I’m away?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. Anna and I will be fine.”
He ran a slow finger down her cheek. “It would’ve been nice to spend a few days with just the two of us.”
“I know, but we’ll get another chance. Just don’t let those bigots hurt you.”
“I won’t.” He kissed her then, a long, sweet parting that let her know just how much she was loved.
He backed away and picked up his bag. “I love you, Regan.”
“I love you, too.”
And he was gone.
When Colt and the others stepped out of the boxcar in Rock Springs, there was a line of soldiers standing between them and a loud angry mob of men he guessed to be miners who were armed with clubs, hatchets, pickaxes, shovels, and everything else capable of causing bodily harm. It was impossible to tell whether the rage was directed at the soldiers or Colt and the lawmen but he was glad the soldiers were there. As he and Whit and the rest of their party rounded the train and walked to the car holding their mounts, the air was thick with the scent of smoke and the sweet, almost sickening stench of something else.
“What’s that smell?” The man’s name was Jordan and he’d accompanied County Sheriff Joe Wilson as a member of his four-man posse.
“Death,” Colt told him. Jordan froze. Colt stepped up into the car and led his stallion down the plank while the noise of the mob continued.
One of the soldiers peeled away from the main group and rode over to where Colt and the others waited on their horses. It was Odell’s grandson and Regan’s former lover, Levi Spalding. Upon seeing Colt, he startled then offered a terse nod. Colt nodded in return and swallowed his aversion to the man who’d lied to and taken advantage of his wife. Spalding introduced himself, and Whit and the two county sheriffs did the same.
Spalding said, “Thank you for coming. Most of the violence is over now but there are still some Chinese hiding out in the countryside and we need your help finding them so they can be kept safe. There’s been enough death.”
“Do you know how many are dead?” Whit asked.
“Officially, around twenty-five, but we’re still finding bodies. The homes and businesses of the Chinese were looted and burned to the ground. Miners threw some of the injured into the burning buildings.”
“Lord,” one of sheriffs said and Colt agreed.
Spalding turned to Colt. “Dr. Lee, there’s an infirmary set up and they could use your help.”
“Tell me where to go.”
“I’ll have some of my men escort you. I don’t want you riding alone.”
Colt appreciated that. More than likely he was one of the few men of color within miles, and with the violence still festering he’d be an easy target. Accompanied by four of Spalding’s men, Colt rode off.
He was glad for the escort. On the slow ride through the center of town, dirty, feral-eyed men tracked their passage. Slurs rang out, more than he’d ever had flung his way. A few of the watchers were brave enough or drunk enough to approach their small party only to be deterred by the soldiers’ raised rifles. Colt didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until they left the area behind.
The infirmary was two large tents set up in what the soldiers told him had once been the city’s Chinatown. There’d been five hundred residents; miners, cooks, laborers, and over seventy buildings, including a house of worship overseen by a priest. But due to the killing and burning, not one building was left standing. Piles of burned and charred wood were all that remained of the barracks built for the Chinese miners by the Union Pacific Railroad, and the shacks the Chinese businesspeople had erected themselves. The thick silence was eerie and the smells of burning and death strong. Nodding at the small contingent of soldiers on guard outside, Colt entered the tent he’d been escorted to. Inside were dozens of injured Chinese lying on cots packed so tightly together there was little room to maneuver between them. Men with their heads swathed in bandages lay nearly on top of others whose bare torsos showed bandaged ribs. By the blood staining some of the dressings, some had been stabbed or shot. Considering the events, such wounds were expected, but what wasn’t were the thin silver needles stuck in arms, shoulders, and other parts of the men’s anatomies. Having never seen such a thing, a surprised Colt wondered at their purpose.
A Chinese man, dressed in the traditional black shirt and loose-fitting trousers, looked up when Colt and the soldiers entered. He eyed them suspiciously for a long moment before rising and making his way through the maze to where they stood. Glancing down at Colt’s black bag, he asked, “You’re a doctor?”
“I am. Dr. Colton Lee from Paradise. The soldiers asked me to assist.”
“I’m Dr. Crane from Green River. Thank you for coming.”
