Before I headed back to the hotel, I checked in at the post headquarters asking about any "Indian trouble," in the area.
"Not around this area," reported the officer of the day, however if you are travelling to Montana or Wyoming territories it's best to stay away." While there, I heard two officer's debating which army post offered the best duty. Continuing to add fuel to the fire, I interrupted them and said.
"Actually your both wrong, the best post of all is located in the Strait's of Mackinac up in northern Michigan. Fort Mackinac, check it out gentlemen, granted the winters can be a bit harsh but I haven't seen any palm trees growing around here lately, so there you have it." I left them trying to figure out where the place was.
Back at the hotel, Emma had revived, weak, but sitting up and talking.
"See, I told you Jake was a doctor, look at you, Oh, my gosh! what happened to your eye."
"She told me, that bartender hit her in the eye because she wouldn't tell him what we had been talking about. Then shot her when she tried to warn us. I've got her on some Tylenol 3's, right now, the gunshot didn't hit anything vital." Emma then beckoned me over,
"I can't thank you gentlemen enough for saving my life, I read you all wrong, but would that Montana take me on looking like this?" Chuckling, I replied,
"She will if I say so, besides that black eye won't last long. And it's quite possible she could have you do something else." Jake then quietly said,
"Mark, would you mind if I remained here until you guys return, she's going to need care, you know me, my first duty has always been to my patients." Patting his shoulder, I replied,
"I know it is, yeah go ahead, I don't mind, I was the one asking her to see Montana after all."
I could certainly use Jake's help, but then again his first duty was being a medic. Now I wouldn't have a man to watch my back so extra care would be required.