Matt stood and watched helplessly as the stage went over the edge of the ravine. Tumbling down the rocky sides of the cliff with four innocent riders, it all but distentagrated as it landed on the floor of the dry river bed below!
His first thought was so horrifying he couldn't bring himself to even think it, but in his heart, he knew it was true!
Because of his actions, everyone onboard was dead.
Pulling himself away from the edge of the cliff, the Marshal turned around and looked at the shocked expressions on the faces of the men in his posse.
"There's nothing more to be done here," he said walking stoically toward his horse as the others clearly tried to make sense out of what just happened.
"It weren't his fault," Festus said watching Matt ride away as Newly nodded.
"I know that and you know that but I don't think the Marshal knows anything right now."
"Thinking, I should follow Ol Matthew," Festus said while walking toward his mule.
"No," Newly replied adamantly. "That's not going to help Matt one bit. I think, the best thing we can do Festus, is give him time alone to work things out in his own mind."
Matt rode into the open prairie for miles before the cold started to take its toll. At least out here alone, he wouldn't have to answer any questions about his decisions that day.
How could he have been so wrong, when the stage coach robber threatened to take the stage over the ravine, Matt figured, he was bluffing. It never occurred to him that the thief might actually do it. And now, four people were dead because of his arrogance.
Stopping his horse, he climbed down and fell to his knees. Always having been a man of faith, he questioned it before the Marshal looked up into the darkness of the night sky and whispered. "I wish, I'd never been born."
As Matt got to his feet, a sudden violent gust of wind almost brought him back to his knees as it whipped though the prairie. His horse neighed and bucked before taking off in the opposite direction. As the Marshal watched him run, he shook his head in disbelief. "What else could go wrong today," he said aloud before he started to follow his horse.
The soft glow of a camp fire in the distance was a welcome sign and he headed for it hoping to find a friendly face. Stepping into the light, he tipped his hat when he saw an older man seated in front of the fire.
"Mind if I join you," Matt said eagerly. "My horse got spoked and ran off."
"Please do, Matthew," the man replied gently as Matt took a seat.
"I didn't get your name," Matt said before recalling that he had not yet given his either. "How do you know my name?"
"I know," the man said quietly. "Marshal Matthew Dillon."
Matt's right hand instinctively dropped to his gun as the older man shook his head and smiled.
"You won't find a gun," he said at the same time as Matt realized, his gun and badge were both missing.
"I must have lost them," he said absently looking around.
"You couldn't lose something that never existed, Matthew."
"I don't know what your talking about old timer but I'd really like to know, how do you know me?"
"I've known you since the day you were born. You just don't know me but you will."
"Your not making much sense to me, what's your name?" Matt asked adamantly.
"Michael," the elder man said slowly getting to his feet.
"Last name?" Matt asked as the man grinned.
"Just Michael," he said before looking beyond Matt. "I believe, that is your horse."
Matt stood and turned around in surprise as his horse trotted directly toward him. "I'll be," he said taking the reins of the animal when it stopped right in front of him. "Never saw a spooked horse do that before."
Climbing into the saddle, Matt turned to look at the old man. "I can take you into Dodge with me."
"I can get there on my own, thank you," Michael said with a slight nod.
"Suit yourself," Matt replied before riding off. He stopped a short distance away and turned around but the only thing he saw was darkness, no camp fire and no sign of Michael.
Matt didn't have much time to think about the strangeness of the situation as he headed back toward Dodge. His mind was on other things, most importantly the deaths of those in the stage and how painful it was going to be to explain to their families how they died.
As the Marshal rode into Dodge, he headed straight for the stable. climbing down off his horse, he opened the stable door and led the horse inside.
That's strange, he thought upon seeing another man's horse in his stall. Hank doesn't usually make a mistake like that.
Leading his horse to an adjacent stall, he unsaddled it before feeding him. After the horse had his fill, Matt headed over to the jail to get a few hours of sleep.
Even though it was the middle of the night, Matt noticed quite a bit of activity coming from the Long Branch as he walked down the boardwalk. It was definitely an odd occurrence to say the least. Kitty never kept her doors open this late.
Matt was just about to step though the double doors when Doc staggered out of them and almost tripped over the Marshal's feet.
"Doc," Matt said grabbing the physician to steady him. "What are you doing?"
The older man turned around an regarded him with a clearly distasteful look. "Get your hands off me," he stammered angrily before pulling away from Matt.
"Wait a minute, Moore," Sam said stepping out of the double doors. "You didn't pay for that last drink!"
Matt watched in shock as the usually soft spoken and gentle barkeep wrench Doc's arm as he picked him up off the boardwalk.
"Mr. Pence ain't going to like it if you don't pay for your drinks!"
"Bill Pence," Matt said in disbelief as Sam looked at him.
"The owner of the saloon," Sam said turning back to Doc. "You got the money or should I go get the Sheriff!"
*Merry Christmas everyone! The only thing I hated about the holidays was having to sit though another viewing of Its a wonderful life which my dad loved! I only wish now that he was here to make me watch it again! Remember, it's not what's under your tree that counts but who you have around it! Make every moment count because you'll never know what you have until it's gone!*
