#Henrico County | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mariacallous · 3 months ago

Text

Under a clear blue sky, on a warm spring day, several dozen Virginians gathered in a suburban backyard near Richmond to plot the future of the Democratic Party. Not that this was what they said they were doing. This was a meeting of the Henrico County Democratic Committee, “dedicated to electing Democrats in Henrico County, the Commonwealth of Virginia, and nationwide,” and they had come to rally neighborhood support for Abigail Spanberger, a local girl made good.

Spanberger, a member of Congress and now a candidate for governor, lives in Henrico County—about 10 minutes away from that suburban backyard, she told me. Although she currently represents a more rural Virginia district, this is her home base, and the home team wants to help her current campaign. A local official introducing Spanberger thanked everyone present for spending “a lot of hours in offices and knocking on doors and writing postcards and delivering signs.” Another spoke about “getting the band back together,” reuniting the people who helped Spanberger during her improbable first run for Congress, in 2017, when she came from nowhere to beat a Tea Party Republican, Dave Brat.

The audience cheered when Spanberger talked, as she often does, about her notable career trajectory. Famously she served in the CIA, from 2006 to 2014 (and has always been circumspect about what, exactly, she was doing). When she returned home, she told me, “I thought I was done with public service”—until she was galvanized by the election of Donald Trump. Now, after three hard-fought wins in purple-district congressional races, her aspirations stretch beyond the Virginia governor’s mansion: She wants to change the way Americans talk about politics. “We want to turn the page past the divisiveness, the angriness, and just focus on brass tacks, good policy, and governance,” she says.

In today’s Congress, those goals are wildly idealistic. On both sides of the aisle, “divisiveness and angriness” attract headlines. Outrage, not brass tacks, produces attention. Marjorie Taylor Greene is repeatedly interviewed and profiled, even though she has never been associated with a serious piece of legislation. Matt Gaetz, known for nothing except being Matt Gaetz, is more famous than many important congressional committee chairs. Even among the Democrats, the ranking members of many important committees have a lower profile than the members of “the Squad,” a group who come from very blue House districts and have defined themselves to the left of the party.

Spanberger is part of a different, less splashy friend group, one that also includes House members Jason Crow of Colorado, Chrissy Houlahan of Pennsylvania, Seth Moulton of Massachusetts, Mikie Sherrill of New Jersey, and Elissa Slotkin of Michigan, among others. Most are in their 40s or early 50s; many come from purple districts and swing states. They are sometimes called the “NatSec Democrats,” a phrase that explains their origins but doesn’t quite encompass who they are or what they do. Most, it is true, are veterans of the military or the intelligence agencies. Most entered Congress in 2018. Most hadn’t been in politics before that. Some of them were helped or encouraged by Moulton, a former Marine who was first elected to Congress in Massachusetts in 2014, made a quixotic run for president in 2020 and created the Serve America PAC, which backed 15 of the 28 Democrats who flipped the House in 2018. Moulton told me that Trump inspired a lot of veterans to consider political careers for the first time—and to run as Democrats. “He’s so uniquely unpatriotic and anti-American. I mean, this is a guy who didn’t try to hide the fact that he was a draft dodger. He said, The people who signed up were suckers. The people who got killed are losers.”

In retrospect, the members of this cohort turned out to be precursors of an important change, one that may end up redefining American politics. For half a century, the Republicans were the party that embraced patriotism most intensely, talked about loving America most loudly, and seemingly took a harder line on national security. But now the Republican candidate calls America “a nation in decline” and refers to the U.S. economy as an “unparalleled tragedy and failure.” That language has inspired a geographically diverse, pro-Constitution, no-nonsense backlash in the Democratic Party, a movement in favor of patriotism, concerned about national security, and convinced that only a democracy that delivers practical results can stay safe. The effect was clearly visible at the Democratic National Convention when Kamala Harris promised “to uphold the awesome responsibility that comes with the greatest privilege on Earth: the privilege and pride of being an American,” and when delegates responded by waving American flags and chanting “USA, USA.”

The Democrats who were in the vanguard of that backlash have been working together for some time. Spanberger, Moulton, Slotkin and others wrote a joint letter to President Joe Biden in December, for example, warning against Israel’s strategy in Gaza, on the grounds that “we know from personal and often painful experience that you can’t destroy a terror ideology with military force alone.” But national-security experience isn’t the only thing that links them. Tom Malinowski, a former State Department official who was also part of the group—he was elected to Congress from a previously a red New Jersey district in 2018, then lost in a close race in 2022—points out that although most of his cohort had never held elected office before, all of them had taken oaths to protect and uphold the U.S. Constitution. They came to Congress in that spirit. “We were very idealistic in our belief that our job was to protect democratic values and institutions in this country,” Malinowski explains, “and very pragmatic on the day-to-day work of Congress on issues like the economy, the budget, immigration and crime.” In other words, he explains, “we all believe the country would be fine if we had to compromise on issues like that. What was essential was not to compromise on democracy.”

Malinowski, who suggests calling the group Service Democrats, agrees that they are defined by attitude as much as issues. Although motivated to enter politics by their disdain for Trump, all of them say they are happy to work with individual Republicans. Sherrill told me that she thinks “getting as broad a coalition as possible on the legislation I want to see passed” is a sign of success. This outlook is very different from the obsessive hatred of compromise that has prevented the current Republican House majority from passing almost any legislation at all. “Anytime a Democrat supports a Republican piece of legislation, then it’s not good enough. It’s obviously not extreme enough, because then it’s a RINO bill or something,” Sherrill says.

The group’s attitude also redefines what it means to be a moderate in the Democratic Party. By an older standard, Spanberger, Slotkin, Moulton, Sherrill, and Crow might have been called progressives. They believe in abortion rights, for example—a cause once avoided by what used to be called conservative Democrats—and have joined pro-abortion-rights caucuses. But if, again, a moderate nowadays is someone willing to talk with the other side in order to find solutions, then this group is a bunch of moderates. Sherrill said she could see the appeal of what she described as a “progressive model” of politics: “deciding what you want and accepting nothing else until you get it.” But there is also a risk to that model, because you might not get anything at all. Had the Democrats in Congress been more willing to bargain with the Trump administration over the border, she thinks, they might have secured concessions for Dreamers, the children who arrived in the U.S. with their undocumented parents and have no citizenship status.

Still, the NatSec Democrats’ deeper objection is not to any particular ideological faction, but rather to politicians who, as Spanberger says, “don't actually want to fix anything,” because “performance is all there is.” As an example, she cited the border-control bill that was written and shepherded through the Senate by senior conservative Republicans but was then blocked—to the surprise of the bill’s authors—by Trump, who thought that fixing the border might help Biden. Her friends, by contrast, want to fix things: the border, the health-care system, even democracy itself. Having served in places that have collapsed into chaos, they know what it’s like to live in places that don’t have governance of any kind.

They also learned how to operate in that sort of chaos, which is useful now too. Elissa Slotkin, a Middle East analyst who was elected to the House from Michigan in 2018 and is now running for the Senate, says she still thinks the same way about solving problems as she did when she worked for the CIA, the National Security Council, and the Defense Department, among other previous employers: “My job is to identify real threats and go after threats. The No. 1 killer of children is gun violence. Mental-health issues, suicide, opioid addiction—those are real threats. I’m not going to spend a ton of time on things that I believe are exaggerated threats, like books or teaching Black history in our schools.” Spanberger, also used to being challenged, makes a point of traveling in the redder parts of her district and talking in detail about the agricultural bills she’s introduced in Congress: “You can’t both think I’m some crazy deep-state whatever, or some radical leftist,” and at the same time be chatting politely about meat-processing regulation.

Given members’ experience, the group’s special interest in foreign policy is unsurprising, but it doesn’t come cloaked in bluster. When speaking at the DNC, Jason Crow—an Army Ranger and paratrooper who served three tours in Iraq and Afghanistan before winning a House seat in Colorado—contrasted “tough talk” and “chest thumping” with the “real strength and security” that comes from alliances, competence, and continuity. “I refuse to let Trump’s golf buddies decide when and how our friends are sent to war,” he said. Over coffee a few months earlier, Crow told me that isolationism’s appeal is overrated. An outward-looking America appeals to voters, especially those concerned about security. He reminds people, he said, that “America can be a great force for good, that we are at our best when America is engaged and American leadership matters,” and he thinks they listen and care.

Slotkin, who met me in a tiny Senate campaign office she keeps near the Capitol, also told me that voters respond to that kind of expansive message about America’s role in the world. She said she talks about her national-security background on the campaign trail as a way of explaining her other policies: “I really believe that in a multiracial, multi-ethnic democracy, it’s essential that anyone from anywhere can get into the middle class. And if we don’t have that, it’s literally a security problem. If we become a country of the very rich and the very poor, it’s a stability risk.” She thinks her training helps her in a different sense too. Like Spanberger and Crow, Slotkin has also taken oaths to uphold the Constitution, and she, too, has been part of teams dealing with life-threatening situations. “You cut your teeth professionally, in jobs where mission is more important than self,” she said. “And in fact, if you put yourself ahead of the mission, you would have been fired for most of the jobs that we did.”

A few months after Spanberger’s rally, on a rather hotter summer day, I watched Mikie Sherrill deliver an equally pragmatic message. Speaking at an event held at the Ukrainian cultural center in Whippany, the congresswoman, an Annapolis graduate and ex-Navy helicopter pilot, was introduced by Thomas “Ace” Gallagher, mayor of Hanover Township. Gallagher is a Republican, but Hanover suffers from flooding, and Sherrill, he said, had helped his district get money and attention from the Army Corps of Engineers.

“She’s on the Democratic side of the aisle,” he told the room. “But for me, there are not two sides: There’s people that serve and work together and are focused on the common good. As for everybody else, they can do whatever they want to do, as long as they don’t get in the way of our good work.” Soon, he predicted, “you are going to see many people that are more moderate working together … on true solutions to our problems.”

Sherrill, who is expected to launch a run for New Jersey governor herself, seemed as surprised by this optimistic outburst of bipartisan goodwill as I was. “I look around this room, and I’m feeling a little emotional,” she said, and paid tribute back to Gallagher. “Again and again and again, we have come together here in the Eleventh District of New Jersey, to try to problem solve, to try to address the things that are scaring people, to try to make your life a little bit better, to try to just bring some rationality and sanity to a world that right now isn’t making a lot of sense.”

While she was talking—this was on Sunday, July 21—people in the audience started looking at their phones, whispering to one another. At the end of the event, the speakers asked the audience to contribute to Ukrainian charities, stepped off the podium, and learned that President Biden was no longer running for reelection. Two weeks earlier, Sherrill had joined what was still then a very small number of elected politicians openly calling for him to step down. Over lunch, she told me that she had been moved to do so because “we’ve all been saying Trump is an existential threat. But we’ve been acting like we don’t really believe it.” At that point, only two senators had publicly called for Biden not to run: Joe Manchin of West Virginia and Sherrod Brown of Ohio. Not coincidentally, both came from red states. In places outside safe blue states and blue districts, Sherrill told me, Democrats had been looking hard at the polling data and couldn’t see a path to victory.

Earlier, Sherrill had done a small event for Sue Altman, a Democrat who is running for Malinowski’s old seat, attracting the same kind of fired-up-to-do-something-positive crowd as Spanberger, a team of people who seem genuinely excited to knock on doors for a pragmatist who is offering to get things done. Young people in particular, Altman told me, “are sick of the negativity. They’re sick of politics as usual, and they want the government to work properly.” But it’s not a mass movement—nobody gets tens of millions of Instagram followers by finding long-term solutions to flooding in New Jersey.

On the contrary, in a world where social-media algorithms promote anger and emotion, where cable-news teams have an economic interest in promoting the fame-seeking and the flamboyant, charting a different course carries serious risks. The dull work of passing meat-packing bills in Congress, or fixing flooding in New Jersey—none of that will ever go viral on TikTok. Only people who still see politics through the lens of real life, and not through an online filter, will care. In a bitter Senate fight in Michigan, or a close governor’s race in Virginia, the contest could feature candidates who differ radically, but in style as much as substance.

But then, the same can be said about the candidates at the top of the ticket. In a sense, the presidential race is the biggest swing-state race of all. Like the other Service Democrats, Harris also took an oath, early in her career as an attorney, to uphold the Constitution. And like any Democrat running in a purple district, Harris also needs to appeal to a wide range of people who are “sick of politics as usual,” to get them to focus on real-world concerns—economics, health care, inflation—instead of culture wars, and to convince them that she is in politics to solve problems and not just to perform. If she looks down her party’s ballots, she’ll find plenty of allies who have been fighting that same battle for years.

13 notes · View notes

simpsalot · 6 months ago

Text

Tempora Mutantur- Part 1 | Billy the Kid | 7k words

Time travel; Real or not real?

Well, considering her and her dad, Conway, had been in the 1800s for three years now, Rowena Radcliffe would like to say it’s a hundred percent real. Neither one of them had any idea how it happened, she had her private theories that would involve her working with quantum mechanics and spacetime models. Something she doubts she could even do without a calculator. Rowena was smart, but not that smart.

Not to mention the implication towards the history of scientific discoveries should someone find her calculations. No, her and her dad were perfectly happy in the past…if you ignore their yearning for modern conveniences or their grief for her mom.

Personally she tended to rail against the lack of respect she got as a doctor simply because she was a woman. Ignoring the fact that she was a genius that had graduated high school–admittedly in the 21st century, but if anything that should count for more–by the age of fourteen. Had been pre-med by the time she was sixteen, and, had they not been shunted to the 1800s, was on track, in the next two years, to start her residency at eighteen years old. One of the youngest ever. It really was lucky her father, a renowned surgeon in modern times, had been thrust back in time with her since he was able to, in general, teach her what would have been taught during that time. He gave her a level of protection that most women in this time need, while also respecting her thoughts and feelings no matter what he felt about a subject himself.

Three years ago, the two of them were just driving home from a camping trip in the Virginian wilderness they were taking before she would start her next year of college when they’d pulled over to sleep and watch the starts. Camping had been something she did with her dad since she’d been young, her mom skipping out on the excuse of ‘hating the outside’ so once a year the two of them would take a father-daughter trip to the wilderness, no matter what either of them had going on. They’d fallen asleep under the stars on a couple of blankets and their supplies packed up and ready to head back right when they woke up.

It was waking up that was the problem. Well, more like when they’d woken up. Instead of a car or anything familiar, the two of them had, somehow, woken up in 1873. No noise, no lights, just one moment they had been sleeping in their time and the next, it was 1873. Luckily they were still in Virginia with all their stuff, sans car of course. After getting over the shock, they made their way into the nearby town, Henrico County, the exact place Rowena had grown up in before she moved to go to college in Richmond. They’d been able to sell some of their trinkets–nothing too modern though–for a decent price so her dad could start up a practice. Thank you Capitalism, and your need for quick cheap items that too anyone not of modern times, comes off well made.

That practice had lasted until some local doctor hired some thug or outlaw to trash the place, including all the medicine and herbs Rowena herself had been creating and growing for the past six months. That was when they decided to move West. Halfway there they had been robbed, luckily only robbed, and that was when Rowena had suggested robbing a bank.

Her father had opposed the idea, not wanting the two to become wanted, until she explained that she meant to rob them at night, when they could just sneak in, grab the money, and go. The thing about this time is most criminals were rather simple in their plans since there wasn’t anything like cameras, fingerprinting, DNA, or anything. They rely on eye witnesses and guards. If they watch a place for a couple of days, they’d get the guard pattern down.

Plus, Rowena knew how to pick locks.

Thus, the father daughter duo of bank robbers was created. Not taking much, they didn’t want to deprive a town of all their wealth. They took what they assumed amounted to half a year’s salary at each bank. They continued the pattern, watching and hitting banks randomly and in no pattern of where until they had a decent amount of wealth.

That’s when they rolled up on a little town called Silver City, New Mexico. It was a less developed town, but was starting to pick up speed. Plus a smaller place meant less chance that someone would question how they got their fortune. Sure they’d never gotten caught nor spotted even, but in this time you could never be too careful, especially in the Wild West.

“Doctor Rowena! It’s Beth. She’s in labor at the new restaurant in town. She’s bleeding, ma’am, come quick.” A voice called from her porch, dragging her from her memories. Quickly grabbing her medical bag, she cursed to herself. Of course, Beth Mayfield would go into labor while her dad was on a house call. This couldn’t wait for him to get back though. They had told the Mayfield couple not to get pregnant again with the last child but Thomas Mayfield was determined to have a boy.

Snatching an apron from the coat rack, Rowena hurried outside, annoyed she’d worn a dress today. If she was right, it was going to get bloody; apron or not. Trousers would have been a much better choice for this. Outside was an acquaintance of hers, Carmen. She was standing on the stairs of her porch, biting her lip in worry. “Take me, quick. Do you know how far apart her contractions are?”

“No, señorita. Me acaban de decir que viniera a buscarte.” Carmen replied, sticking to Spanish in her worry. They just told me to come look for you.

“That’s okay, Carmen.” Rowena comforted her. “Now let’s hurry.”

As Carmen led her through the streets to the less developed part, Rowena hurriedly tied her apron around her. While they sped through, people started moving out of the way when they saw it was her. Her dad and her were well known as the best doctors in town, so if she was running someplace; they moved. Quickly they came up on a building that had wooden walls halfway up then it was left open with only beige tarps acting a ‘window’ coverings surrounding the place. She could see in the back was an open kitchen area, much like the dining place. Above the door was a sign saying ‘Kathleen’s’. There had been decent talk about the place among the lower class people. It apparently had good food for a decent price.

But currently, she could see a crowd of people surrounding what she suspected was Beth in the middle of the area. There was a woman’s voice trying to get people to back up, but people want a spectacle. A woman giving a bloody painful birth in the middle of a restaurant was definitely a spectacle.

“Outta my way! Now!” She yelled, pushing people until she was greeted with Beth, already a sweaty mess with her graying hair sticking to her forehead, sitting on the floor, thighs spread and bloody. She was leaning on a pretty older woman with her hair up in a braided updo. “Out! All of you. If I see one person that’s not an owner or a worker in here I’ll remember the next time you need medicine.”

There was some grumbling but most people stepped out of the door, though, due to how the windows were, could still stand outside and watch. Figuring she could use this for a moment, she called to the crowd. “I need one of you all to head to Louis Henning’s place and inform my father what is going on.”

That done, her eyes flittering across the dining area before landing on a boy around her age, clinically she noted the curly brown hair and blue eyes that were currently filled with surprise and worry, but he wasn’t her patient so instead of comforting him, she just gave him an order. “Close those tarps. This is going to be a bloody and painful birth as it is. Not a show for nosey people.”

Blue Eyes nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”

Finally she could focus on her patient. She walked over to the two women, smile on her face despite the trepidation she felt towards this birth. “Beth, looks like this little one is coming a bit early and a lot quicker.”

Beth gave a painful chuckle. “Guess so, Doc. Is your father coming to help?”

“Naw, just me today. But considering you’ve been my patient since day one, I didn’t think you’d mind” Rowena replied, nodding at the woman behind Beth and she settled between her legs. In the back of her mind she recognized that Blue Eyes had gotten all the window tarps down and was nervously standing in the corner. “How far apart are your contractions? Do you know?”

“Near constant, maybe a minute or two in between. I thought they were those false ones I’d gotten last time so I didn’t think, oh god it hurts.” She stopped to clinch the hand she was holding, breathing deeply as she did. Finally, she let up and continued. “So I thought I could run my errands today. Thomas had heard about the restaurant and wanted to try it so I was getting something to take home when my water broke and I started, well, this.”

This was the blood that coated her thighs. Rowena kept her face passive and asked if she could check her out. Consent, especially with anything health wise, was important. Getting a nod from Beth she checked under her dress, using her scissors she kept attached to her chatelaine to cut her small clothes away. Checking the dilalation she noted that Beth should be pushing pretty soon. The blood, from what she could see, was from her tearing due to the speed of the labor. All her other labors had apparently been long ones so such a fast labor hadn’t prepared her body enough.

Feeling around the woman’s opening to check the position of the baby, Rowena mouthed a curse to herself. Head popping up from Beth’s skirts, she delivered the bad news. “The baby is breached.”

The woman behind Beth gasped in horror, something Rowena would have seconded if she could without frightening her patient. Breached birth was near enough a death sentence for this day and age. Lucky for Beth, Rowena wasn’t a doctor of this day and age. “I’m going to try and move the baby to the correct position. You’re the owner, yes?”

“Yes, I’m Kathleen. That’s my oldest, Billy. How can we help?” Kathleen offered, gripping a crying Beth’s hand and rubbing her back with the other one.

“You’re going to need to switch places with your son. Someone is going to have to hold Beth steady because what I’m going to do is going to hurt like a bitch. I also need water and clean towels or blankets.” Rowena ordered. Glancing over at Billy, she noted the rather comical horror expression he had. Most men in this time didn’t even stay in the birthing area, and here this poor boy was getting a front seat to one of the worst types of birth.

Kathleen nodded, calling out to her son. “Billy, switch with me, please.”

“Are you sure, Doctor? I don’t exactly know what I can do.” Billy said. Despite his words he did walk over and grab Beth’s hand, smiling at her as he did. “Hello, Ma’am. I’m Billy. I’m apparently going to be supportin’ ya for now.”

Beth grimaced a type of smile back at Billy before her face scrunched up in pain once more. They didn’t have time for niceties. “Kathleen? That water please? We need to hurry. If she tears anymore I fear the amount of blood she’ll lose.”

Kathleen quickly nodded as Billy slid into her place. Beth settled back down in between his legs, using his torso as a back rest. She wasn’t too pale, so Rowena was super worried about her blood levels right now, but the minute she started trying to reposition the baby, she knew that would change.

“Now, I’m going to need you to hold her as steady as you can. If her torso moves too much I can damage her or even the baby, okay?” Rowena stressed. Billy swallowed, before nodding slowly, tightening his grip on her shoulders. “Beth, what I’m going to do is going to hurt more than anything you’ve ever experienced. You cannot fight me too much, okay? I’m going to try and save you and your child.”

Beth gasped but agreed through her tears just as Kathleen came back with the water and towels. Pushing her sleeves up, Rowena wet her arms, and using a bit of soap from another compartment on her chalateine, washed down her arms as best she could. Rinsing the soap off, she asked Kathleen to replace the water if she could.

Kathleen grabbed the pot just as Rowena went back under Beth’s dress. Over the next few moments Rowena focused on moving the baby around, trying not to do it too quickly and injure Beth more than she already was. The breaching of the baby had torn her more than she thought, so she needed to get the baby head first as quickly as possible without doing too much damage.

Beth screamed, legs clenching around Rowena’s body, heels kicking into her back–definitely leaving bruises–but Billy was able to keep her from moving her torso too much. Only a few thrashes escaped his hold but none strong enough she thought she’d hurt Beth. Finally, after what felt like forever even to her, she had angled the baby head down.

Sighing, she popped her head up to both check on Beth. Eyes skating over Beth’s face, she frowned. She’d lost a lot of her color and was sweating more than Rowena felt comfortable with, but at this point there wasn’t anything she could do. If she’d left the baby breached, they would have torn her open and killed her. Flipping the baby was her only option. “Beth, I know you’re tired, but I need you to push now, okay?”

“I can’t. I don’t have the energy.”

“You totally can, Sweetpea. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. Now just a couple of pushes and you’ll be done.” Rowena encouraged. Beth tightened her grip on Billy’s arms before yelling as she pushed. And pushed. And pushed. A full head of dark brown hair like their mom’s came first, then the shoulders–the worst part any mother could agree–before the rest of the baby. Glancing down, Rowena let out a sigh of relief. It was a boy, meaning hopefully Thomas Mayfield would leave his wife alone and not make her carry another baby.

Using her fingers she cleared the airway just in time for the little guy to let out a loud cry. Despite being a couple weeks early, there was definitely a set of lungs on the kid.

Within seconds Kathleen appeared next to her with a towel in her arms to wipe the baby down. Thanking her, Rowena took those same scissors and cut the umbilical cord to detach him from the after birth. “One more push Beth. Gotta get that after birth or else it could make you sick.”

Beth was pale and weak, even an everyday person could tell, but she gave a final push like she was asked. Rowena was hopeful she’d survive if she got her stitched up quick enough. Which was exactly what she started to do once the after birth had passed, bloody hands dug out her silk thread and needle. More stitches than she wanted went into sewing her patient up but she got it done quick enough that the bleeding was stopped before she thought Beth had lost too much blood.

“Ma’am? She’s passed out!” Billy called from Beth’s head.

“Fuck,” Rowena cursed, head popping out as she tied off her stitches. Fingers grabbing Beth’s wrist, uncaring of the blood she got on the woman’s arms, she sighed. Despite being weak, her pulse was steady. “My father should be on his way to transport her to the clinic. He’ll be able to help with setting an IV which should handle the blood loss.”

“But she’ll live?” Kathleen asked, eyebrows tight with worry as she shushed the newborn boy.

Rowena nodded. “As long as she survives the night and no infection sets in, she’ll live.” As her words sent a shock of relief through the three of them, a knock on the door jolted everyone. Her dad’s voice echoed through the empty restaurant over the murmuring of the yet to disperse crowd. Asking Kathleen to let him in, she watched as her dad’s large frame came through the door.

Her dad was a handsome man despite the more prominent aging living in the 1800s had inflicted. Standing at a whopping 6’6 he towered over most people, especially in this time. His hair had gone grey around the temples but the rest was still the jet black of his youth. There were noticeable laugh lines and crows feet but any more aging was hidden behind the short beard he kept on his face. All in all, Conway Radcliffe was a man, even in his 50s, a lot women found appealing.

Most people, when they saw them together, didn’t really expect them to be father and daughter until you looked into their eyes. They had the same warm brown eyes. Everywhere else she took after her mom; blonde straight hair, pale skin that freckled in the sun way too much in her opinion, and curves that in this day and age got her some looks that she didn’t particularly like.

“Hello, sorry that my daughter and our patient have taken over your restaurant, ma’am. Hopefully we can be out of your hair in a few moments.” Conway greeted Kathleen, head bowing in greeting. He wasn’t wearing his normal black wide brimmed hat. She assumed he’d left it at home in his hurry to get over here. His eyes swept over her and Beth, completely ignoring Billy, eyebrow quirking in silent question.

She nodded to let him know she thought Beth would live. She hoped Beth would live, or else the absolute ass chewing she was going to give Thomas Mayfield was going to be a lot worse and possibly include the threat of death.

Kathleen giggled a bit overwhelmed. “Oh it’s no problem. It's not like anyone planned this. It was just an unfortunate situation.”

“All the same, I feel an apology is necessary.” Conway said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out some money and handing it over to the shocked Kathleen. “I believe that should cover the cost you’ve lost with having to close for the day.”

Kathleen and Billy gave the man shocked looks as Kathleen waved her only free hand trying to reject the money, something Rowena knew her dad wouldn’t allow. They had shut down the relatively new restaurant. Doesn’t matter to him or her that it wasn’t intentional. “You don’t need to do that. Truly.”

“You might as well just take it. He’s not going to take no for an answer.” Rowena said, a tired smirk on her face. Kathleen sheepishly grabbed the cash, sliding it into her dress pocket with a quiet thank you. “Now, Father, as much as I love you, could you maybe do your job and get Beth to the clinic?”

“But you handled it so well, Daughter of Mine, you don’t want to finish it out?”

“I will kill you.” She glared, tone mostly joking. She had maybe a half a year of solo experience under her belt and that included mostly injuries and illnesses. Births? Not so much.

Her dad just laughed and opened the door behind him to let the helpers they hired for the clinic to come in and load Beth onto the stretcher. With another apology to Kathleen, Conway followed the stretcher out towards the clinic to do his own diagnosis on the woman. Rowena during that time, had grabbed a rag to start cleaning the blood off her arms. Her dress and apron were a loss cause. The blood from Beth’s birth had pooled under her knees and soaked right through the apron onto the blue dress leaving the front completely stained.

After a few moments a callused hand grabbed the rag from her. Head jerking up, she raised an eyebrow at the boy that had helped her. “Let me help ya, Ma’am. You shouldn’t have ta clean yourself up on your own after doin’ all that. ”

Narrowing her eyes, Rowena studied the man. Now that she wasn’t worried about a woman’s life, she could admit he was rather handsome, especially when he smiled like he was doing right now. Sigh, she let go of the rag. “Thank you. You don’t need to do that, though. This isn’t the first time I’ve been covered in blood and, as a doctor, it won’t be my last.”

“Don’t mean you don’t need help once in a while, though. So let me help ya.” Billy said, kneeling down as he softly wiped the blood from her arms. Occasionally he’d dip the rag into the only clean pot of water to rinse the blood out.

Smiling, she ignored the warm feeling of her cheeks. Adrenaline crashes like this made her emotions wonky all the time. “Alright, you can help me. I won’t fight you.”

“Good, cause I reckon I’d win.”

Before she could reply, Kathleen came back in, cooing at the bundle in her arms. She’d wrapped the baby boy in a plain tan sheet, but even from her place in a chair she could see the strong arm movements. Good, that meant that even at three weeks early, at their best guess, the baby was healthy and would, hopefully, live through infancy. Kathleen looked up at the two of them and smiled. “I miss having little ones this age. They’re so cute and sweet.”

“Ma?” Billy said. “You’re not wanting a baby now, are ya?”

“Oh, no, Billy. I’m just saying babies are cute.” Kathleen shook her head. In front of her Rowena noticed Billy heave a tiny sigh. “I suppose you’ll be taking this one to his parents then?”

“Yes, though I’m not looking forward to seeing his father, but with the condition Beth was in, it’s inevitable.” Rowena complained before a thought hit her like a train. “Oh damn, I never introduced myself, did I? I barged into your restaurant, took over, and didn’t even think to tell you guys my name! I must seem so rude.”

Billy shook his head quickly. “No, honestly, it’s understandable considerin’ the circumstances.”

“Well, then.” Rowena started to stand up, Billy sliding back and onto his own feet as he did. “It’s nice to meet you folks, I’m Doctor Rowena Radcliffe.”

Billy dipped his head, smile widening to show his dimples again. “Pleasure to meet you, Ma’am. I’m Billy Antrim and this is my mother Kathleen Antrim.”

“It's very impressive. You being a doctor at such a young age.” Kathleen commented as she handed over Baby Mayfield. “I didn’t know that someone could become a doctor at your age.”

Doing a quick scan with her eyes over the baby, Rowena was happy to not see anything overtly wrong with him. Sure he’s a bit small, but nothing notable. Done with that, she shrugged at the two people. “It wasn’t easy, especially since I’m a woman. We had to appeal to the governor and everything to get me even admitted to do the test. All my schooling had to be done as a self study under my dad since no school would admit me.”

“It’s good that despite all tha’ you were able ta still become a doctor.”

Rowena shot him a grin. “Thanks, I near thought I’d have to give it up after a while.”

“For Beth’s sake, it’s good you didn’t.” Kathleen said.

There was a beat of silence as the conversation naturally closed before Rowena decided it was time for her to get Baby Mayfield to his parents. “I better go. I’m sure Thomas Mayfield is already having a conniption about where this little one is.”

Billy started forward, arm coming out to rest on the small of her back. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Thank you.” A frown formed as the two of them passed the large puddle of blood. She shouldn’t just leave it to them to clean up. “I can get some of our clinic helpers to come clean that up for you guys. I don’t want to just leave it to you two to clean up.”

Kathleen shook her head behind them. “No, no need. We can clean it.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I did make the mess…sort of.” She hesitated to just leave them such a mess.

“Not the first time Ma and me have had ta clean some blood up. Don’t think nothing on it.”

“Okay, okay. I know a losing argument when I see one.” The duo was pretty independent from what she could see. Insisting on helping people like that is a choose your battle type of decision. This was not a battle she would win. Not after they saw her deliver a baby most in this time wouldn’t have been able to handle. “But if you change your minds…”

The two of them left Kathleen in the restaurant. Rowena blinked a couple times as the bright sun hit her face. With the windows closed the restaurant wasn’t that bright, so the sudden light stung a bit. The baby in her arms gave a annoyed coo, but luckily didn’t wake from the nap he’d fallen into. Turning to Billy, she was struck by how pretty his eyes were in the sun. Sure, she’d noted that he was very much a pretty boy in the building but in the sun it was even more evident.

The man was really fucking pretty. Clearing her throat, she tried to ignore her revelation. “Thank you for the help in there. Really. A lot of men wouldn’t have helped seeing it as a ‘woman’s job’.”

Billy couldn’t hold in the snort at that. “If all women’s jobs are like that, its a wonder how y’all don’t run this country by now.”

“Bold of you to assume we don’t.” She winked at him before saying her goodbyes.

She had just stepped off the steps into the place when he called for her again. “Doctor Rowena?” She turned around, questioning look on her face. In front of her he took a deep breath as if to gather some courage for some reason. “I’d like to see you again, if that’s alright with you?”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise but Rowena couldn’t keep the smile from her lips. Billy had shown he had a respect for women she suspected was rare in this time; that alone was attractive to the modern woman. “A friend of mine sings at the saloon every Thursday night. I generally go to support her. I wouldn’t be opposed to some company if you happen to show up.”

“Thursday night? Good, good, great actually.” Billy’s dimpled smile from before showed back up just in time for the baby to let out a cry. He must be hungry. Beth wouldn’t be awake currently but hopefully her father had called for a nursemaid. “I’ll let you go, the little one must be ready for his first meal.”

“Most definitely.” She agreed, turning to start her walk back to the clinic. Behind her, blue eyes watched, amazed, until she turned the corner.

_______________________________

Buttoning the last button on the top portion of her outfit, Rowena smiled. The ensamble was a bit different than what most wore around here, but nothing completely out of the ballpark of acceptable. Instead of matching top and bottom portions to create a dress, she had commitioned a warm brown button up vest with a pretty pink skirt portion. Under the vest she wore her linen long sleeve button up with woven lace inlays around the upper arms allowing her skin to peak through just a little.

It was a lot more girly than her normal wear which was generally a pair of black wool trousers–something that had gotten her more than a few dirty looks and suggestive comments–and a red button up vest. Both colors good at hiding the blood and other grosser fluids she dealt with as a doctor. Her dad was much the same, walking around in a nearly all black outfit except for his undershirt tended to be either white or a brighter color.

Of course, she did own dresses. She had to in this day an age. Some events it was just seen as rude to dress in trousers. While acting as a doctor people don’t particularly mind since they know the job is a lot, but to social events or nights out? It was expected for her to wear dresses and skirts no matter her occupation.

Then, like tonight, there were days she wanted to wear the dresses.

An impressed whistle came from behind her, her dad’s cheeky grin on his face. “Don’t you look pretty, Pumpkin.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She said, spinning around to grab her chatelaine and attach it to her belt. On her ankle was a small holster she had holding a small gun and strapped to her thigh was a duo of throwing knives. The shooting was something she had been taught from a young age, admittedly not with the revolvers used now a days, but it wasn’t too hard to adjust. Normally she wore a belt with a side holster but in a dress or skirt that just didn’t work. “How was Beth? She settling in at home?”

“As well as she can with four little ones and a new baby.” Conway rolled his eyes remembering how Thomas Mayfield had acted the whole time he was there. “Thomas is still a piece of work but I think I stressed that his wife shouldn’t be made to do all the work while she recovers.”

Rowena scoffed. “Please, we both know he’ll probably be out at the saloon tonight.”

“Well, if you see him, kick his ass home. Beth could die if she pushes herself too far.”

Saluting, she tied her purse around her wrist and passed her dad. “Will do. I’m not sure what time I’ll be home, meeting some friends tonight.”

Conway raised an eyebrow at his daughter, amusement streaking through him. “These friends don’t happen to include that restaurant owners son I saw?”

“If it does?”

“Then I’m just going to remind you that this isn’t the 21st century, try not to treat it as such,” He paused seeing the apprehension enter his daughter’s eyes. “But have fun. If anything comes of it, I’ll back you up.”

There was a knock on the door, signalling her friend had made it right in time. Kissing her dad goodbye on the cheek, she waved at him as she hurried down the stairs of their house. At the bottom of them was their clinic. Currently they didn’t have any long term patients, Beth being the last one that stayed with them for a total of two nights.

They had three seperate rooms. One with a few chairs that they handled what they called ‘in and out’ patients; people that they could treat quickly. The other two rooms were bigger, both having four beds in them. One for overnight patients but nothing too serious, then in the last room with doors that could close and lock, was their version of ICU. Patients they doubted would live but weren’t lost causes yet would stay in that room. It was generally kept pretty dark with the curtains drawn and lamps only on when people were in there.

Their house that they lived in was kept all upstairs, kept seperate by a large locked door. One her and her dad had a key. When illnesses get really bad and they need to bring on a nurse or two they generally also get a key but only during their stay. That had only happened once in the year and a half they lived here. And their clinic had only been up and running for a year.

Hurrying to the door, she pulled it open with a grin, blonde fly aways floating around her face as they escaped her braids. She’d done twin braids and crossed them atop her head in a mock headband. “Hola, Stella!”

“Hola, Rowena, how’re you?” Stella, her first friend she’d made in Silver City, asked. Stella was an adorably short latina girl. She was the middle child of five so she tended to dress in handowns from her older sisters and mother, not that you could tell. Her seamswork was amazing and half of Rowena’s own closet was commisioned from Stella herself.

“Good, especially after the start of the week.” Rowena locked arms with her friend as they made their way down the road. Occasionally someone would wave or say hello to her. Mostly people her or her dad had helped, but some were just people she knew from being a regular at places.

Stella let out a giggle, bumping her a bit as they walked. “Your big save of Mrs. Maryfield is about all people can talk about this week. A woman doctor keeping both the woman and the baby alive with a breach birth? You’re going to become a legend at this point.”

“I was doing my job. It’s nothing special.” It wasn’t, not to her. The techniques and medical information she knew was only because other people in history discovered it. If anything, she was cheating just a bit being from centuries in the future. “But, what about you? How’re you? Excited for your set?”

“I’m ready for it, if that’s what you mean. Hopefully Jenkins won’t be there. He’s always such a downer with his comments.”

“I think you mean he’s a pendejo.”

“Rowena!” Stella scolded but couldn’t help but laugh at her words. “If my mother heard you she wouldn’t care you weren’t her’s, she’d wash your mouth out with soap.”

Rowena giggled as they reached the saloon. Opening the door for the two of them, she replied as Stella walked through the door. “It’s a good thing she’s not then, huh?”

The two girls laughed a bit before they seperated. Rowena claimed an open table a bit close to where Stella tended to set up while Stella went to let Clark, the bartender, know she was there and to order them a drink. Settling down in the seat, Rowena’s eyes scanned the room, somewhat to note who was where but also in an effort to see if Billy had indeed come.

Not seeing him, she ignored the pang of sadness. It was still early and they didn’t exactly say a time. He could still come later. Stella came from the side of her, a glass of whiskey and one with just drinking water in it. “What’s the sad face for? You expecting someone?”

“It’s nothing, Stel.” Rowena waved the question off. “What time are you going to start? We got here a bit later than we normally do.”

Stella downed the shot of whiskey after setting her water in front of her and winked as she walked towards the stool that had been claimed by her some weeks ago. In the corner sat the guitar they kept for anyone that wants to play. Settling down, Stella started to strum, bringing eyes to the noise. As people noticed who was playing chairs scraped as they turned to watch.

Music flows through the saloon, Stella’s warm drawl seemingly crawling under everyone’s skin. She was good, really good. Rowena had tried to get her to travel, maybe see if she could make it as a singer in bigger places but every time she denied it. Saying she had to stay near her family and help them.

Occasionally Stella and her would make eye contact while she sang. It was a comfort to her friend for Rowena to be there. Her nervousness still there even after weeks of performing. It was why she still came every week. That and it was a nice change from the grossness that was being a doctor, especially in this day and age.

It was about halfway through the third song that Rowena heard the saloon door open again, but figured it was just another one of the men coming in from their work at some ranch. It wasn’t until a warm presence was next to her that she looked away from her friend and into a pair of happy blue eyes. “Billy, you came.”

“Of course, I did.” Billy smiled, taking his hat off as he bowed his head to her. “I’ve been looking forward ta this all week.”

Rowena grinned, a warmth filling up her stomach at his words. Something about the man was different. She was drawn to him, more than she’d ever been drawn to anyone. She gestured for him to take the seat next to her. “Sit, I’m sure Stella won’t mind you taking her seat.”

“Thank you,” Billy said, sitting his drink he’d was carrying on the table next to his hat. “You look beautiful, I was near struck silent when I saw you sitting there as I walked in. It’s nice ta see you not covered in blood.”

Smirk taking over her face, she figured she could have some fun with him. “You know, Billy, some women would be a bit offended, you talking about me being covered in blood.” His eyes widened a bit but before he could try and back track, she chuckled, saving him from his panic. “Luckily, I’m not one of them. Especially since half my life I am covered in blood and other strange liquids.”

“You had me worried there for a moment, thought I’d put my foot in it before I even had a chance.” Billy said, ignoring the relief that he felt.

“If you really offended me, you’d know. Trust me.”

“Well, let’s home I never find out.” Billy flirted back. As he went to say something, Stella got a bit louder, hitting the cressendo of her song, bringing the eyes of the saloon back to her. “Your friend is good. Better than the guy tha’ tries to sing Friday nights at least.”

She giggled, ignoring the embarrassment that hit her when she did. With the way Billy’s smile widened, she didn’t think he minded the girly sound. “Lewis, right? Yeah, I can see how he’d leave a bit wanting with his singing.”

“Ya know him?”

“Sort of. More like I’ve treated him a few times after a drunken spat gone wrong.” She shrugged. She knew most of the town that way; either they’ve treated them or they treated someone they know. “How’s the restaurant? You guys didn’t have any problems after I left, right?”

Billy shook his head. “Oh no. The opposite, really. People wanted to come in and see the place, stayed an’ ordered a bit ‘f food when they did.”

Snorting, she sipped her water. “People love a spectecle, that’s for sure.” Stella finished up her set and was going to take a break when their eyes met, question in them as she passed. Tapping her ring she kept on her third finger against her glass three times, Rowena saw her friend grin, message recieved.

“What was that?” Billy asked, looking between the two girls.

Her eyes flew to him, teeth biting her lip as she throught over explaining. Figuring he wouldn’t be the type to be offended if she had been reading him correctly, she bit the bullet. “A little message between girls. Coming here sometimes sends the wrong message to men, so we’ve developed some gestures to mean either ‘come save me’ or ‘no, I’m happy with this.’ A women saving women thing.”

“And which one did you tell her?” Billy inquired, smirk on his face. He had an idea, considering her friend had settled herself down at the bar instead of coming back over.

“Oh, Handsome, I’m quite happy with this.” Rowena leaned a bit forward.

He matched her movement, leaning closer to her until the world became only the two of them. “Good, because I’m quite happy bein’ here.”

The rest of the night the two of them just sat there and talked, flirted really, until it was later than Rowena had ever stayed out since coming to Silver City. Stella had left with her brother, a semi regular at the saloon, a bit earlier after checking with Rowena that she didn’t need walked home. Finally, after literal hours, the place was closing, pulling the two of them from their little bubble they’d created.

The pair stood outside the doors, main street dark as most lights were shut off for the night. “I suppose we should probably be getting home. Father’s probably worried about me.”

Billy offered his arm to her. “Why don’t I walk ya? I’m tha one that kept you out this late after all.”

“Are you sure? It’s literally the opposite direction to your place.” She fretted. He had mentioned earlier, like her and her dad, he lived in the house that was ajacent to the restaurant.

“Ma would have my hide if I left you to walk alone, let alone what I’d think of myself.” He assured her.

Sighing her acceptance, she took his arm as they began to walk the dark streets back to her clinic. A comfortable silence decended on the two as the strings of fate changed course all because one misplaced girl connected with a sweet boy that made her heart flutter.

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #william h bonney #fanfiction #billy the kid x OC #oc #original character #billy the kid series #tom blyth #billy the kid fanfiction #Billy the kid fluff #fluff #I’ve never actually post fanfic on here #first time for everything I guess #should I post to AO3

15 notes · View notes