Adaline Jameson || female || 24 ||

Although Adaline was used to long treks, even on foot, it did become a pain. Het feet hurt and the cold had began bothering her but a thankful glimmer lit up her light green eyes as they made to town. She passed up the way of her families home. He needed medical attention right away, her family would just ahve to worry of her not arriving back as soon as she said she would.

She lead him right into town, holding the reins tighter. Lesser people were on the streets as the skies had began darkening due to the earlier nightfall woth the winter season fast upon them. It was a cozy little town, a few slopes here and there while the buildings possessed shops, townhall, the sheriff, townhall, and homes. Everything for a growing community for the most part.

Adaline now stopped, carefully tying her stallions reins to a post and urgently knocking on the doctors door. It wasn't common to receive anything more than minor colds, cuts, and so on at an hour, occasionally serious injuries, and this was one of those instances. She soon knocked again till an older man opened the door. He fixed his glasses on his face and pulled his coat on better.

"Ada-" She cut him off before more words could be spoken.

"Doc, I found a man up in te' woods, his legs broken. Don't know how ling he was out there, but he's on the back of Arthur now." Her words were quick, slightly slurred due to her accent, but audible. The doctor asked no further questions, yelling to his own wife to grab his tools and prepare a table while he went to help Adaline get the man off the Polomini stallion. Both were gentle as they moved him, now trying to get him up the steps.

She could only hope his horse would stay put till she could attempt to tether the beauty to a post, or find her a stall.

James H. Swift || male || 23 || November 22, 1866 || unknown town

They passed through the town at a quick walk, not stopping for anything. The young women looked at one house for a long moment as if wanting to go in, but she turned away and kept going. James guessed she was taking him straight to the doctor, knowing that time was short if not lost when it came to saving his leg. Having not gotten a look at the damage after the fall due to poor light, James had no idea what he'd be facing besides a painful and a long recovery either way.

I'll be spending the winter here, he thought, watching her race up the steps of a house after tying Arthur to the post outside, I hope they won't mind me, I keep to myself, and I'll not steal or take nothing I'm not owed. I'm not their debt, not the other way about.

The young women appeared shortly with the doctor at her heels, both pale and grim in the light from the open door above. The older man's hands were steady as he got James off Arthur and with the aid of both he made it through the door without fainting, Both were gentle with him thought the agony of getting inside and onto the table, and James found thought they treated him rather like a wet kitten.

I might as well be one, he thought, remembering others cruel jokes, but I have claws, though I won't use them here.

The pain was unexpected, and James had his lip bleeding again from bitting it in surprise. The doctor, seeing the mess of blood and mud, had taken a knife to the leg of James' pants rather than trying to remove them. He knew men who'd jest about such things, be he kept his lips pressed thin and did not watch; it would be better to see everything at once then slowly revealed. Hands left him after a time, and he did look, knowing the doctor would likely not be happy with him for doing so—a frightened patient was the worst kind.

The swelling and bruising made it look twice as bad as it really was, which meant his leg looked horrible. He'd been right in guessing the femur had fractured, although that bone had not broken the skin. James tipped his head to the side, trying to understand how he must have landed to cause his fibula to splinter and leave a nine-inch gash across the outer side of his leg. The tibia was broken in two places, once near his ankle in a compound fracture and once higher up, cleanly. James had seen worse on the battlefield, but something about it being his body made him lay back and close his eyes. not wanting to throw up or pass out.

I'll end up limping, either way, he thought, trying to push down the memories of working in the field hospitals thought out the war, might now wake again if I due keep it, though things might heal well enough if an infection dose not set in.

Adaline stepped away to allow the doctor to work. Upon seeing the mans leg a small sickened feeling crept over her but it wasn't the worst. A few times, when younger, she had come inside the office, especially when she hot sick often, and many times had seen injuries from limbs being torn off in accident with animals to simple accidents with traps and work, to even injuries where skin was torn clean off in some parts. She watched as the man glanced to look at his leg before she looked at the doctor.

"I will be back, I'll even bring some soup for whenever he may be allowed to eat after his leg is cared for, and a change of clothes. I'm sure my brothers wont mind, plus I need te' tell my family why I'm so late." She explained lightly while the doctors wife gave a gentle nod, bringing alcohol to sterilize the wound as Adaline left.

"Be safe Ms. Jameson." The doctor finally spoke while focusing on getting what would be needed for James leg, his wife also ready to follow instructions. The man wasn't too old, but much older then thirty with graying black hair and kind brown eyes. His skin was a bit rugged form age and wrinkles were around his eyes a tad. He wasn't too tall, around five foot six which wasn't too short but wasn't too tall.

The brunette did walk out, looking at where the mare was and sighing. She didn't want to get close after the reaction of when they met but slowly she did near, holding a hand put to the mare but ready to jump back if aggression was presented.

James H. Swift || male || 23 || November 22, 1866 || unknown town

The doctor spoke with the young women briefly as she prepared to leave, saying she'd come back later after telling her family she was safe. James hoped she'd say home and sleep, a few hours in the rain warranted a good rest and he was in capable hands. The doctor seemed at good man, and as he spoke, James felt his heart calming. He was able to learn, however, the young women's last name during the overheard conversation.

Jameson. The name reverberated around James mind, echoing of vaulted walls and along corridors lined with arches. It was nice to know who the young women was, even if it was not a full name. James knew he owed her his life and hoped she'd both see to Misty and give Arthur a treat for his gentleness during the trip. Both horses had performed well and were due a reward for their deeds that night. He also hoped Ms Jameson got something or the part she played in saving his life.

Saving important people draws attention, but each life saved means something to those who take part. James thought, finding himself feeling drowsy and light-headed. Saving a life is the greats gift that can be transferred between persons.

Only as his mind different into blackness did James recognise the too-sweet scent of Chloroform. It made him blink for a moment, then his eyes closed, and his last thought passed through his mind.

The first time someones's used it on me, James thought, and I don't know why I find it amusing...perhaps I should not.

November 23, 1866 || unknown town || bedroom in the doctor's house

The warmth was overwhelming when James woke, and for a moment, he forgot himself and thought he was home safe in the years before the war. His memories came back slowly, brought on by the unfamiliar smells that filled the room and the brush of a homemade quilt against his hand. He could hear the light sounds of rain on would and fire in a hearth, as well as another human's breathing. Something, however, unsettled him about the gentle sensations all around.

I'm not in pain. He realized, breath hitching slightly. I should be, but am now...oh.

There was a dull ache though most of his body, so the lack of pain was not complete, but it was not biting in the way it should have been. James well remembered the pain he'd woken to after breaking his arm and nothing like the sharpness filled his body now. He did not need to open his eyes and look to know; so he did not.

I could be worse, he told himself, internally holding back tears he'd not know where in him, he amputated above my knee, properly above the places of the upper fracture. I hope Ms Jameson does not blame herself for not doing more.

His eyes flickered open then, taking in the plan wood walls and floor of what was likely a back bedroom. The saddlebags Misty had carried where over the back of one chair well the other was occupied by the very young women James had just thought of. She had the same red ribbon in her hair, but otherwise, her outfit had changed from that of the day before. She was also watching him through eyes the colour od milk jade.

Adaline Jameson || female || 24 ||

Adaline had managed to get the mare to her families lot of home, putting her in a stall out of the cold inside her families barn which held som cattle, sheep, chickens, and of course Arthur. Atleast there the mare would havecompany, and it gave the brinette time to admire the mares coat. A gorgeous dark bay color it seemed. She fed and water the animals, only imaging how hungry the mare may be and how distressed she may become without her rider. Herind began wandering after that.

"The man will be okay Adaline...it..couldn't be that bad." In her heart she already knew the injury had to have been. There was no knowing how ling he had been out there, no idea how long he had been injured, no idea how long he had been exposed to bacteria and such.

She had told her family aboutsuch, and they praised her, other then her aunt. She was scolded wothbthe; "ladies shouldn't be out in the wods" and "do you know how dangerous that was" before she left, making some soup for the man. She wanted something light, unsure If he could stomach anything else after an injury as so, that, and the soup would help.

Adaline had bothered changing clothes and even bathing herself, wearing a more feminine shirt but still mans pants and boots, while as well wearing one of her mothers woolen shawls over top for warmth, having even showered before coming back. She felt bad, one of her brothers having to leave in the morning to complete errand she was supposed to do, but he had assured her it was fine.

Now the brunette woman sat there once allowed in, depsote the doctors wife trying to push her to go home and rest she stayed. She did this often, that, and she honestly liked watching the doctor work at times. They had in a way become friends from her spending much time there, he had even taught her how to treat some wounds and sicknesses, but not enough that would have been helpful.

She didn't sleep much besides occasionally, slight shadows under her eyes now. She had woken early after having returned home to bring back more fresh soup, basically just making a smaller batch unlike the one made for her family last night. She had been up and down, constantly getting up or walking around outside, to just sitting there.

Seeing the mans movement she sat up more, the concern laced on her face. "Yer' awake, that's earlier than the doc said you would be." She spoke quiet, voice a bit hushed and crackly from lack of sleep. She noticed his reaction and now assumed he was well aware of the missing leg, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she looked away.

"Doc said infection had set'n, that either you could lose yer' entire leg of they try to keep it, or lose just to the knee." She paused, soon looking at him. "That and the break ye' had was a nasty one." She soon stood and offered a kind smile, picking up the bowl of soup she had. It had gotten cold, sadly, but she was willing to eat it up again. "I made ye' some soup, something light as to not upset yer' tummy. Though...it's a wee bit cold, but I can heat it up fer' you." Her words were quick but polite and caring. She was told she always wore her emotions on her face and exposed her kindness too much.

James H. Swift || male || 23 || November 22, 1866 || bedroom

The moment she saw he was awake she came to the bedside, talking gently and politely all the while. She might have spoken of simple things and those he already knew, but hearing another's voice after months alone meant more to James then he could have ever said allowed. She had a bowl with her that continued soup—though it was cold—and when she said she made it for him, he nearly broke and cried right then. Instead, he avoided biting his swollen lip and took the bowl from her with trembling hands.

James shifted a little, trying to find a position that allowed him to sit up without being uncomfortable before starting to eat. He did not mind that the food was cold, it did not contain any bugs, and that made it good enough for him. He watched her between spoonfuls, wondering for the first how she'd managed to get him up. He did not doubt her strength, but she was a small woman and the shortest human he'd eve met.

She is also one of the bravest I've ever meet, he thought, I don't know many who'd be wandering about the mountains in a rainstorm, though I'm lucky she was there. I'll care I lost my leg later, I think, right now I'll be content with being alive and free.

Adaline Jameson || female || 24 ||

Adaline sat back down once he had tje ball and she was relatively positive he wouldn't fall over or anything. She ran a hand through her mess of braided hair before she became a tad flustered, having entirely forgotten her manners at this point.

"I'm Adaline by the way, my apologies fer' nor introducing myself though....before wasn't te' best of times." She gave a warm smile, her words almost as soft as her voice when not tired. She soon was up on her feet again, beginning to speak up now. "Yer' mare is at me families lot of land, I put her in the barns stables so she isn't alone, and that she is protected from the weather." She spoke, hoping to soothe any worry he may have the mare.

She glanced out one of the room windows before turning her attention back to the man, soon picking up the clothes she had brought from home, moreof her brothers old clothes. "I also brought ye' some clothes. They're one of my brothers old pair, but are suitable for the weather and may fit, atleast when the doc says you can get up."

James H. Swift || male || 23 || November 22, 1866 || bedroom

James smiled, glad that Misty had been kind to Adaline and not kicked the young women. He used his mare had been smart enough to realize no one would her either of them and kept her peace. He was glad for the clothing, thinking he might change later if the doctor allowed; the nightshirt he'd been given was a fine one, but James knew better then to linger in nightclothes for long. He set aside the empty bowl and took a deep breath, unsure of how to thank this young woman for her attentions.

If I could I'd just come out and say it, but I know I can't do that...I'll panic and make things worse for both of us. When I rode with the rangers no one cared much as long as I did what I was told and fought well.

After a moment James nodded and smiled again, though he felt desperate on the inside. His brow furrowed and his mouth opened for a moment before closing and reponing. He shook his head then and looked away, closing it a final time.

Adaline fet some disappointment that he didnt speak, and now she merely assumed he was mute. None the less she offered a kind smile, now picking the bowl up in a simple and quick motion, now heading for the door to leave. She had chores and tasks to do, sadly unable to remain the rest of the day within the doctors office. She got sick enough as it was that he wpuldnt want to deal with her more than he usually had to.

"Ye' don't have to say anything, I understand yer' mute. I'm just happy te' see your alive." There was her warm smile again before Adaline left the room entirely, then the front door could be heard opening after her footsteps on wood faded.

Wonder what made him a mute....something happen to him? What's he even founv all the way out here? I should ask...but..that would be rude. Adaline shook her head and sighed as she left.

The town was alive and humming woth life during the day. A few children scampered through the streets and people either walked kn or out of shops or stores. It wasn't a tourist attraction but the townsfolk were busy, or some were just visiting family or friends. It wasn't bad for a town either. A few men who stood near partially eyed Adaline, one even tipping his hat and offering a sly smile only to have Adaline ignore him.

She was one of the few younger unmarried women her age. Yes, they had some that moved there then others thatarried then left. She was just one hard to supposedly "tame" as her aunt called it. Her aunt claimed her to be a mad girl with fantasies of working alongside the men folk.

She looked at the smoke rising from fireplaces inside some of the building, now looking around and smiling. Although the branches were bare on most trees, ones such as pines and so on, still contained some greenery even in the cold weather and time of winter approaching. It gave the town that earthy feel and look. They had no brick roads, just dirt tat were left partially muddy after yesterdsys rain, hooveprints engraved in them and worn from walking.

This was Adalines home. Where she grew up and planned to stay, just, not in the midst of the bust township; out on her families land instead.

James H. Swift || male || 23 || November 22, 1866 || bedroom

James cried after Adaline left. Isolated much of his childhood due to the same speech problem that now made life so difficult for him, he could only feel as if he'd driven away yet another person who might have become and friend. He'd learned to deal with it over the years, but months spent alone with only Misty as the company had worn away at his ability to keep calm and navigate social events. This, compounded by shock, fear, and grief, created a storm within him the likes of which James could never remember.

Moving did hurt, but James still did his best to curl up and hide his tears in one the te soft pillows he'd been provided with. How long it took for his tears to end, he did not know, only that he cried himself to sleep as a young child might and did not wake again till the rain ended in the evening.

Adaline was standing in the door when James opened his eyes, her face calm, and her pale green eyes weray. She looked to have been there some time and was half-turned as if to leave. One hand rested on the frame. Her clothing was men's ware, though an elegant yet old shawl wrapped about her shoulders. James did not think before his lips opened, because if he had sound, never would have passed through them.

"Do-don't go," his whispered, voice little more than a disused rasp, "please."

He could not say which of them was more surprised, but silence quickly fell and James feard he'd somehow made things worse. He'd never spoken to someone he did not know, officers and his older sister set aside, and he knew not if he'd broken some rule of speech when he'd asked that she say. He flushed, but said nothing more, once again looking away.