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The first thing that I needed to figure out was what had caused
Mr. Collins to react the way he did. Of all the girls in Denver,
WHY had he picked me?! I was reasonably attractive, and always
tried to be friendly and polite, but I had never gained the demure
flirting skills that many of the other girls I knew had perfected.
I preferred to be direct, open, and honest, and that usually
didn't appeal to many of the gentlemen I knew. My choice of
profession was far from lady-like; I was one of the few
girls in school on the premedical tract. I also rarely
attended social functions because I was always buried in my books
or going home on the weekends. The only reason I was even at
the dance where I had met Patrick and the few other events
where I had seen him was that Mary Agnes had dragged me
to them!
And yet, something had attracted him to me during
those few times we had met. There were so many other
girls that were prettier, more ladylike and displayed their
obvious attraction much more than I had. Why, then, had he
gone after me? We had little or nothing in common from
what I could glean, and I was now thinking that he fully
intended to ask for my hand if I didn't put a stop to this soon!
Obviously, it couldn't be about marrying into money or a
good lineage or even for common interests. At least
with Andrew, we had our love of medicine and our similar
personalities in common. Patrick and I came from totally
separate existences. I knew now that there was no hope of
a future together, and there never had been. What little I
felt for him was probably just the result of either being
lonely or flattered by his attention.
A sudden, terrifying thought hit me. What if I had
misguided him through my actions? I frantically though
back over my behavior around him. While I couldn't
remember any specific instances where I had behaved
improperly or hinted at anything, perhaps it was my general
attitude. Perhaps what I had considered friendliness
was taken the wrong way. Perhaps this was my fault.
My fault.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ma walking toward me.
I didn't move. When she reached the bridge, she put an
arm around me briefly and leaned over next to me.
"Colleen, I owe you an apology for yesterday," she started.
Still looking straight ahead, I murmured, "There's no need."
"Yes there is," she replied. "When you came by the
clinic yesterday, you'd already made your decision
about Mr. Collins. And I was so afraid that
you might have made the wrong decision, that
I didn't give you the opportunity to even tell me
what that was." She paused for a moment before continuing.
"I couldn't help but feel the need to protect you.
I'm afraid I'm…I just can't seem to stop being
your mother," she finished.
I realized then that she and I were angry for different reasons.
I had been sending all the wrong signals from the beginning.
"I don't want you to stop being my mother. Ever," I told her,
looking up at her for the first time. She noticed
the misery and anguish in my face, and immediately
sensed that there was more to my anger.
"Colleen, what is it? What happened?" she encouraged,
a note of concern in her voice.
I finally blurted out the truth. "Patrick kissed
me and…and I didn't want him to," I said tearfully.
"He forced himself on you?" she asked incredulously.
"I told him to stop, but he didn't listen," I replied.
"Did he hurt you?"
I shook my head. "Maybe I misled him, Ma," I said,
revealing my fears for the first time.
Ma looked angry, but not at me. "No, Colleen, you didn't.
Don't ever feel that you have to let a man…force his affections
on you, just because he wants to," she reassured.
"I just wish he would go away, I don't want to ever
SEE him again!" I said angrily.
"C'mon, we'll settle this right away," Ma replied.
She took a step toward the clinic, but I stopped her.
This was not the way either. I was eighteen, old enough to
handle my problems without my mother's assistance.
Besides, I needed to settle this with MY terms. My own way.
"No, Ma. I can take care of this myself," I said firmly.
The look that passed over her showed all her
emotions - pride, fear, and sadness. I was growing up,
and she realized that. I gave her a huge hug, gathering
strength from her closeness for a moment before breaking away.
With a new determination, I walked back to the clinic.
During the ride to the chateau, I rehearsed what
I was going to say. I was no longer nervous, I was angry.
I needed to use that anger to keep my confidence up, but
still remember to remain poised. Those were my terms.
I wasn't going to let him see all the pain and upsetment
he had caused me. That was no one's business but my own.
As I rode up the trail to the hotel, I saw Patrick sitting
out on the covered front porch reading a newspaper.
Patrick looked up as the coachman helped me dismount,
and immediately came down the steps toward me.
Before I turned to him, I fixed my expression into one of
formal neutrality and walked toward the landing.
Patrick gave me a relieved smile.
"Colleen, I am so glad to see you," he said.
I didn't repeat his sentiments.
"I need to talk to you," I replied.
"And I need to speak to you as well," he said,
taking over the conversation as usual. "I just… I wanted to
say how sorry I am for yesterday. I have never done anything
like that before. My behavior was…was appalling."
"Yes, it was," I agreed firmly.
"But," he continued, "it shows the depth of my feelings for you.
The passion that you illicit in me…"
This was getting nowhere. Apparently, the gentle but firm
approach I had planned was not going to work, especially
if he continued on like this! His poetic nonsense was beginning
to annoy me. Why had I ever found it charming?
It was all lies anyway! I held out the bracelet.
"I can't accept this," I interjected.
He looked at me oddly. "Colleen, I know you have
every right to be angry…" he started, a note of
urgency and disbelief in his voice.
"I don't want to see you again," I finished,
looking at him with a firm, no-nonsense expression.
He shook his head. "Colleen…" he said, as if he couldn't
comprehend what I was saying, and that I was the one in the wrong.
I was fed up. Obviously, he wasn't going to
accept my requests, so I stuffed the bracelet
into the pocket of his topcoat and turned to walk away.
Suddenly, he grabbed my shoulders in a very firm grip,
and forced me back in front of him.
"Don't you walk away from me," he growled.
"Let go of me!" I said, surprised and scared.
His hold tightened, hurting me quite badly.
"I said I was sorry. What else do I have to do…" he said
in a low voice, shaking me slightly to emphasize his words.
I was petrified. Completely petrified.
I couldn't break his grasp, and no one could overhear
us enough to know that there was a problem.
Andrew left the clinic to head up to one of the guest's rooms.
Mr. Learner had sent him a message requesting Andrew come to see
him as soon as possible. Apparently couldn't get out of bed.
Oh well. Andrew's jovial mood from the day before had continued,
leaving a smile on his face even now. He was no closer to
getting Collins out of the way, but at least he was no
longer in the dark about how he felt. It was quite an
accomplishment for someone who had repressed feelings
nearly all his life to basically turn around in two days!
Now, he needed to tell Colleen.
He rounded into the front, but stopped short.
In the courtyard were Collins and Colleen. Collins was holding
her arms tightly and speaking forcefully to her,
not in a good way. Andrew immediately sensed that there was
something very wrong, a feeling confirmed when he noticed
the look of horror and fear that marred Colleen's face.
Anger washed over him in a wave. THIS WAS IT.
No one was going to get away with treating his Colleen
in such a manner! Determinedly, Andrew strode over
to where the pair stood.
"Take your hands off of her." As if by some miracle,
Andrew had chosen that exact moment to walk out to the front,
had seen what was going on, and came striding up, looking angrier
than I had ever seen him.
"Stay out of this!" Patrick shot back rudely.
His grip on my arms tightened, and his clasp now felt vise-like.
"Patrick, you're hurting me! Ahh…" I cried.
Simultaneously, Andrew grabbed Patrick's shoulders and spun him around.
"I said let her go," Andrew said with lethally calm
force in his voice.
Patrick released me, and I quickly ducked out of the way,
watching in horror as Patrick punched Andrew squarely in the face.
"Andrew!" I cried out. Blood appeared on his lip from
the indentation of the signet ring Patrick wore under his gloves.
Andrew staggered back, and for a moment, it looked as
if he was going to fall. He quickly regained his balance,
though, crouched down, and rammed into Patrick, hitting him
several times in the stomach and knocking him to the ground.
Andrew grabbed Patrick's coat lapels and for a few moments
they rolled around in the dirt before the coachman and a
gardener grabbed Andrew and hauled him up and away from Patrick.
"Hey there…calm down!" the coachman said warningly.
Patrick darted away and made a move toward Andrew again,
but the hotel clerk quickly caught both his arms and restrained him,
holding him until he was sure Patrick wouldn't try and resume things.
(I think he sensed that Andrew was not the protagonist, and didn't
need to monitored as closely.) Under the watchful eye of the clerk,
Patrick straightened his jacket and went back into the lobby
looking rather rumpled and red-faced; obviously embarrassed
about the scene he had just caused. Preston, meanwhile,
stepped out of his office to see what the fuss was about
and had joined the small crowd of horrified onlookers.
At that point, I decided that it was time to leave, and
leave the explanations to someone else.
I went quickly toward Andrew, and the other two men immediately
stepped away. Andrew staggered backward a little as he was released,
looking a bit stunned at what had just happened.
I motioned him silently, pleadingly, back toward his office,
and he went without a fuss. Tentatively, I put my arm around
his shoulders, and after a moment, he slid his arm around mine
and pulled me closer into his side as we walked away.
The first order of business when we got to the clinic,
I decided, was to clean up his face. The cut by his lip didn't
appear to be bleeding too badly now, which was a relief.
Without a word, Andrew pulled himself up on the table and
sat on the edge. I took off my cloak and gloves and laid them
down beside him before turning to assemble a tray.
I found the carbolic acid, a clean towel and a small
mirror without any trouble. One thing about Andrew,
I thought as I washed my hands, was that he certainly was organized.
I dampened the cloth with antiseptic. Andrew had his hands up,
flexing his fingers stiffly, as if testing to make sure they
weren't broken or bruised. He immediately dropped them into
his lap and sat still while I touched the cloth to his lip.
"Ah, Ah, Ah!" he breathed, grimacing at the sting of the acid.
I took the cloth down as he moved his head away a little.
"Does it hurt?" I asked softly. While it was a stupid question,
it was about the only thing I could say at that point.
He nodded slightly. "How bad is it?" he asked.
I studied the wound for a moment before responding.
"The laceration is fairly superficial. I don't think sutures
are warranted," I said as I handed him the mirror. He took it
from me and studied it himself.
"Hmmm…Excellent diagnosis," he responded with a small but
genuine smile as he handed me back the mirror. I saw his attempt
to lighten the mood, but couldn't return it.
"I'm sorry about all of this, Andrew," I said falteringly as
I ran my fingers nervously over the smooth surface of the mirror.
After all that had happened, I had no idea how Andrew would respond.
I had really messed things up this time, I thought to myself.
"Oh, Colleen, it's all right!" he reassured gently.
Andrew took one of my hands in both of his, rubbing it comfortingly.
He sighed deeply before continuing. "I've been doing a lot
of thinking lately…about my feelings for you. About how
I'm…never able to say the right words. Words I've been wanting
to say for a long time now." He paused, and took a deep breath
as the grip on my hand tightened. "I love you, Colleen," he finished.
I looked at him. Andrew loved me. It was as simple as that.
There were no "tokens of my affections" no grand speeches,
no long professions of how "if I searched my heart,
I would know that I loved him too", no false promises,
and no secrets. He loved me, and only me.
"I love you too, Andrew." I knew that without one shadow of doubt.
He was the only person I had ever loved, would ever love.
All the confusion, all the problems melted away as we finally
broke down the barriers by saying those three little,
significant words.
He smiled. So did I. After a moment, he gently caressed my cheek,
brushing away a few strands of hair that had fallen forward.
He moved slowly, but I didn't back away from his touch as I
had with Patrick. It felt…right…with Andrew. Copying his gesture,
I touched his jaw lightly before leaning in to brush his cheek
with a feather-light kiss. He grinned again, and lifted my hand up,
pressing a kiss on my fingers, before he caught my eyes.
We locked gazes for a moment as I reveled in the wonder of our
new-found love.
The wonderfully tender moment was shattered a minute
later by a knock at the door. It took us both a second to grasp
what the invading noise was.
"I'd…ah, better get that," Andrew muttered finally. He slid off
the table, straightened his jacket, fixed his expression,
and opened the door to find Preston standing outside.
"Ah, Andrew, there you are. Would you care to give me your side
of the story as to what happened during that little…run-in
with one of our guests," he asked in typical
Preston-like fashion. "Mr. Collins stated that you
and he had a misunderstanding, and that was all, but
I must admit that I was quite surprised to see you
rolling around in the dirt like a common school-boy.
Perhaps you can give me a more clear answer," he finished,
looking quite annoyed with Andrew.
"There's nothing much to say. Mr. Collins said some rather
inappropriate, abusive things to Colleen, and when she tried to leave,
he restrained her. I stepped in to try and separate them,
and when he punched me, I had to defend myself," Andrew stated.
Upon hearing this, Preston softened somewhat. "Is that correct,
Colleen?" he asked me.
"Yes, it is. If Andrew hadn't intervened, I think that
Mr. Collins would have done more than just
restrain me," I said firmly.
"Are you all right?"
I nodded.
"Well, then, I'll see that…appropriate measures are taken to
rectify the situation. Please, let me know if he causes
anymore trouble, Colleen. That kind of behavior will not
be tolerated at this establishment. Andrew, perhaps you
would like to close up a bit early and escort Colleen home.
I imagine that the experience must have been trying for
both of you," he finished. I tried to cover up a laugh at
the complete change in Preston's demeanor.
At least he had believed Andrew. Perhaps there was some
hope for Preston after all!
"Thank you Preston, I intend to," Andrew said,
looking over to where I stood with a smile.
"Oh, and perhaps Colleen, you can take a look at the…wound on
Andrew's face. It appears to be…bleeding," Preston finished,
looking a bit warily at Andrew's lip. "Goodnight," he said
politely and closed the door softly behind him.
I went over to examine the cut, and, sure enough, it was
bleeding a little. "Here, let me clean that up for you," I said.
I took his hand and led him over to the water basin.
"Let's try plain soap and water this time."
"Sounds good to me."
I cleaned the area carefully and applied gentle,
direct pressure for a few minutes to slow the bleeding.
When I removed the towel, it appeared to have stopped.
"All better," I said with a smile. When I turned to put the
cloth down, my arm brushed against Andrew's, and I winced as
I felt a twinge of pain at the site of contact.
Andrew immediately looked concerned.
"Colleen, are you all right?" he asked.
"I think so. My arm's a little sore," I said, rubbing at
the dull ache.
"Let me take a look." He motioned me over to the table,
and helped me up. Andrew undid the buttons of my sleeve,
and eased the fabric carefully over my arm so as not to hurt
me any further.
"Your arm's bruised, no doubt from the force of Collins'
grip," he said, looking angry as he studied the darkening
black and blue area. I touched his hand.
"Andrew, it's all right. It really doesn't hurt
that badly," I reassured.
He smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, I just hate seeing you get hurt."
Andrew thought for a minute. Finally, he asked in a tight but
hesitant voice, "Collins didn't…do anything else to you, did he?
I mean, what caused this whole scene, if you don't mind telling me?"
I paused for a moment, before deciding to be completely honest.
"No…I don't mind." I took a deep breath.
"Mr. Collins [I couldn't call him Patrick anymore]
apparently thought I wanted to be…more than friends,
and felt compelled to give me a gold bracelet and
profess his love for me yesterday ago. When we got back
yesterday, he cornered me near the clinic, and when
I tried to ask him not to call on me anymore, he…forced
a kiss on me. I came to the clinic today to tell him
again that I didn't want to see him and return his gift.
That's when he lost his temper."
Andrew didn't say anything. Instead, he hugged me gently,
and I laid my head lightly on his shoulder. Somehow, he
made everything all right. I felt so safe nestled in his
arms, and we held each other for a long moment.
"Well, suppose I take Preston's advice and escort you
home," Andrew said softly as he let me go and helped me re-button
my sleeve. "You must be tired."
"Do you want to stay for dinner?"
"I'd love to, but are you sure you can bring home an
uninvited guest?" he asked.
I smiled as I slid down from the table.
"Of course. We always have enough for an army!" I told him.
He grinned. Picking up my cloak, he settled it carefully over
my shoulders and put on his coat while I put on my gloves.
"May I?" he asked as he took my hand.
"Of course. Thank you for asking," I replied softly.
We went out to the stables hand in hand.