Living out on her brother's farm had it's advantages and disadvantages. The advantages were easy. There was room to breathe, scream, cry, laugh, and sing. She had plenty of space for her garden. With no nosy neighbors, she could enjoy the activity of reading a book in a hammock in her precious free time. Not that reading was wrong, but for a female in a dress to lay in a hammock. Well, that was frowned upon.

There were disadvantages too though. Such as that there had been more cases of flu lately. A message had come in from the doctor that he needed her help at the clinic in town. So here she was, nurse driving in the dusk towards town, her bag in the back of the wagon with the empty burlap bags. She could stay at her aunt's house when she wasn't at the clinic. However, it appeared that that wouldn't be too often.

Seeing a form slumped on the side of the dirt road, Trinity pulled up beside it and stared. Was it a victim to the flu? Succumbed already before reaching help? She didn't want to mess with a corpse, but Trinity also knew that if there was any chance this man was alive, she needed to help. Tying off the reins on the edge of the buckboard, she pulled up her skirts in one hand and vaulted over the edge with the other. Landing lightly in her high leather boots, she hurried around to where he lay.

It appeared to be a well-tanned man. Hair pulled back was dark. Italian? German? She wasn't sure. Gingerly reaching towards his neck, she lightly put her two first fingers on the edge of his throat, looking for a pulse. His skin was warm and moved with her touch. He hadn't been dead long. There was a pulse. He wasn't dead at all. Leaning over carefully, she gentled shook one shoulder while feeling for a fever with the other hand. "Sir? Sir? Wake up. You must wake up."