(He thinks about Joseph, and that night sitting in the farmhouse, her at his side while he stitched the black man's wounds. He thinks about her father, and the way he shook hands with Crocker, the look in his eyes. He thinks about that cotton field, and the hot Texas sun beating down on the men and women working.)

"Damn..."

Doc cradles her a little closer, able to feel her heart pounding through her body.

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against her hair.



"We'll take care of it."