Promises

One

By nature Christopher Greenwood was a happy little boy. He took obvious delight in all of the simple pleasures of childhood. Never in his short life had he known a day when he wasn't loved. He'd received praise for his accomplishments and been disciplined only with kind firmness. The consistency of his life had imbued him with a strong sense of worth and a trust and faith in those around him. That trust and faith had been severely challenged by the events of the past six months. Valiantly, he had struggled to adjust to his new circumstances and changes so constant they seemed to be a daily occurrence.

It wasn't the first night he'd cried himself to sleep in the tiny bedroom adjacent to Miss Kitty's room at Ma Smalley's Boarding House. He was feeling sad and lonely and more than a little bit scared. His life felt like the jigsaw puzzle Miss Burrow had at school for the children to play with on rainy days, when they couldn't go outside for recess. It seemed full of holes and missing pieces. There were so many things he missed and so many things that were jumbled up. He missed living at the ranch and his room and his dog Puppy. He missed Miss Kitty; for she seemed to spend all her time at Doc's office with Marshal and her desertion had left Chris to fight his nightmares alone. He missed the Marshal Dillon he'd come to know, the man he visited once a day was nothing like the strong man he'd grown up loving and who had promised to take him hunting.

Most of all he missed his own mother and father. The ache that filled his heart was so keen he sometimes wondered why he hadn't died with them. When finally his tossing and turning had so exhausted his body that sleep came and the tears dried on his cheeks; his dreams took him back to the security of his mother's love. Christopher soaked in the feel of those loving arms wrapped protectively around him. In his dream he inhaled the sweet scent of her lavender soap and he listened contentedly as she soothed him to a deeper slumber with soft lullabies. He felt the gentle motion as she swayed back and forth, rocking him in her arms as if he were still a baby. The glare of morning light came to wake him with life's harsh realities in tow, and the changes the past six months had brought to his life. The weight of those changes lay heavy on his heart. Pulling the blanket over his head he shut his eyes tight hoping for the return of sleep and his mother's embrace.

"Good morning sleepy head," Miss Kitty said from the doorway, "Time to get ready for school."

With a sigh, he poked his head out from the blanket. Miss Kitty smiled at him and suddenly his world seemed to be in less of a turmoil. Sitting up in bed, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Kitty moved closer to him and sat by his side. She was aware she'd neglected him in the past week, ever since they had brought Matt back from Shawnee Pass. She knew how important her presence was to Matt, but she realized it wasn't fair to the child and she promised herself she would make it up to him somehow, just as soon as things were back to normal. Her baby kicked and it came to her; she didn't know what normal was anymore. Reaching out she brushed back the hair on his forehead, "There is a very important doctor coming on the train from Denver today. His name is G.L. Harrington." She paused as she saw the question come to Christopher's eyes.

"Can he make Marshal all better?" he asked.

An all too infrequent smile tugged at her lips as her eyes softened affectionately. "He's going to try little Cowboy. Hopefully he will say we can move Matt back home to the ranch soon." His eyes widened with uncertainty and she instinctively pulled him close. "Things will be better once we're all back home, I promise you Christopher."

He only nodded his head in response, he was learning not to look too far into the future, for as scary as today was; tomorrow could prove even worse.

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A series of telegrams had been exchanged between Dr. Galen Adams and Dr. G. L. Harrington of the famous Harrington Clinic in Denver, Colorado. The latter had finally made a decision to travel to Dodge City, Kansas to offer his personal and professional opinion on the prognosis and treatment of one Matthew J. Dillon.

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Every day since his return from Shawnee Pass, Kitty had been by his side. Her love had given him the strength he needed to come back to life. Her soft voice and loving hand kept him anchored safely to the living world. In spite of his pain he was able to open his eyes to seek hers and embrace their future together. But as his hold on reality increased so did his knowledge that his body was damaged. His lower limbs seemed dead to him. Try as he might he couldn't make his legs respond to the most basic of commands. Kitty would hold tightly to his hand as she leaned close to whisper, "Don't try to hard Matt, just rest. It takes time to heal."

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That early December day brought the season's first light dusting of snow, giving a pristine appearance to the otherwise dirty cow town. A tall-distinguished passenger, of late middle years stepped down from the train to be met by Newly O'Brien and Dr. John Bledsoe. The eminent physician wore a coat of somber Scottish wool plaid, while a fine black felt derby was perched jauntily on his head; he carried a leather medical bag, which though not new was obviously of the best quality. His kind face was decorated with salt and pepper muttonchops and a modest handlebar moustache. With handshakes and greetings exchanged the three gentlemen proceeded to the office of Galen Adams, M.D.

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Matt had been dozing as Kitty read the newspaper to him. Her soft drawl had a hypnotic affect that when combined with the pain medication, soothed him to sleep. She had been aware of the visitor's arrival upon hearing the hushed voices coming from the outer room and knew the medical men were discussing her husband's condition. When she was certain Matt was asleep she quietly rose from the chair and went into the main office to join them.

Dr. Harrington had been seated at Doc's desk, but he stood when Kitty entered. He offered his hand and smiled in greeting, his eyes traveled down her body and up again, "Mrs. Dillon, I am pleased to see you looking so well; especially after these recent traumatic events."

Kitty returned his smile, shaking his hand she replied, "I'm from hearty stock. You know that Dr. Harrington." Her smile slipped and the worried look replaced it, "I'm very grateful you've made the trip to Dodge. Will you be able to help Matt?"

His voice was calm and infinitely kind as he replied, "That's what I'm here to find out." Still holding her hand from the handshake he gave her an extra squeeze. "We are doing some remarkable things with spinal injuries."

She took a deep breath and said, "Matt has faith in you Dr. Harrington, and Doc says you're the best there is."

Dr Bledsoe rose to his feet and looked at Dr. Harrington, the younger man was eager to get on with the exam, "Shall we take a look at the patient then?"