An icicle fell off the roof of the jail, startling the U.S. Marshal. He got up and looked out the frosted window. Across the street, Miss Russel was trying to make it down the snow-covered sidewalk with a large box. The marshal hoped that large box was not his Christmas present, for he had nothing to give his longtime girlfriend. Worse than that, he needed to tell her he would not be in town for the upcoming celebration. He had to take Tom Mayfield to the prison in Ellwood.
Christmas and the snow were bad enough, but Matt did not believe Tom was guilty. It was his duty to take this father of six to prison anyway. Matt wondered how Tom's wife was going to survive the next nine years with six small kids and that worthless farm of Tom's.
He finished his paperwork. Placing his paperwork in his desk, he slowly got up. He felt old. The kind of old where every bone in his weary body told him to chuck it all and just go to bed and cover his head till spring time. No use putting it off. Kitty would be waiting up for him. The sooner he got it over with the better.
With heavy steps, slowly but surely he made his way down the sidewalk as the boards snapped and popped from the cold.
Looking through the stained glass window of the bar, he smiled. Funny he was not happy, but seeing her always seemed to make him smile. She was wearing that red silky dress with the netting on the top. On her shoulder was a little rip from when his badge got caught in it last time they tried to dance together. She was busy hustling drinks, yet she stopped for a moment to look out the window as if she sensed he was looking in.
She's busy, he thought. Maybe I will stop later. He turned to make his escape. Too late, she stepped through the door and called, "Hi cowboy." She took his breath away. The ice hanging off the overhang reflected the sparkles in her dress. He stood speechless as he wondered at how stunningly beautiful she was. Her smile started to fade as she read his eyes. " Don't say it. Just go," she said as she waved him off and turned to enter the saloon. He took her arm. "It is my job. I have no choice. We can have a celebration when I get back."
Kitty raised her eyebrow. "Yeah, yeah. Save your breath. I have heard it all before. Do what you want." She pulled loose and went back into the saloon. A man got up and put his hand around her waist. She smiled, hugged him, and escorted him to the bar.
Snow fell off the roof and went down the Marshal's back. He shivered as he returned to the jail. Checking his sock, he realized there was no money for a present for Kitty. What little he had was needed for transportation costs.
The next morning came too early for the old marshal. He unlocked the cell with a heavy heart. He liked Tom, taking him to a hell hole like Ellwood prison was not his idea of how to spend Christmas. Tom went along without resistance. He did request they stop at his farm so he could see his children one last time. Matt should have said no, but it was Christmas. A trip past the farm would only cost them a few hours. By the time Tom got out of prison, the kids would be full grown. Besides, Doc and Kitty collected food and things for Tom's children. Matt was given the task of delivering them. If he dropped them off after delivering Tom, they would not get them till after Christmas. Thinking he could deliver the goods and let Tom say goodbye, Matt agreed.
Matt was unhappy about having to take a buckboard to Ellwood. It would make the trip that much longer. The buckboard had been used for a hayride the night before. It was all decked out with Christmas trimmings. Matt wondered if Doc arranged to have the Mayfield goods loaded on that buckboard, knowing he would have to listen to those Christmas bells the whole ride ."Oh well." He looked at the two inches of snow that covered the muddy streets. He thought this was going to be a hard dangerous ride.
"Thank you kindly," Tom said before climbing on the buckboard. Looking down the street, Matt saw Kitty standing outside the Long Branch in her flimsy, tight, cotton nightgown. It had a lovely fit with soft gathers along the front and back and picot lace trim on the neckline with two satin buttons at the neck and a delicately embroidered yoke. The white gown was offset by her bright red shawl. As they rode near, she stepped into the street and handed Matt two fur capes. "It is going to get cold tonight." Matt gratefully took the capes. "I am sorry, I have..." Kitty again waved him off. "just remember I will never forgive you if'n you get yourself killed or freeze to death." Matt smiled that knowing smile and said, "I will be back...giddy up." He slapped the reins. The Christmas bells jingled and they were off. Kitty turned before entering the saloon. "Be careful." She hoped he heard.
Tom brushed the fur on the cape and examined the red silk lining."This is a fine cape." Matt looked at it. "Yeah, red fox." Tom noticed a faraway look in the normally all business like marshal. "You're a lucky man to have such a fine woman," Tom said. Matt scoffed. "She is her own person. She does not belong to me." Tom laughed. "You got it bad, bet she drives you crazy." Matt encouraged the horses to go faster. The wagon jerked forward almost knocking Tom into the back. "That is none of your business," Matt replied. Tom laughed. "True enough."
The weather was getting colder and the snow was drifting. The horses had to break their way through the drifts. It was bitterly cold. A strong wind came up. Every little while Matt had to stop the team, get out in the snow, and by putting his hands over each horse's nose in turn, thaw the ice from them where their breath had frozen over their nostrils. Then he would hop back on the buckboard and on they went until the horses could not breathe again. The ice and snow were blowing so thick that they could not see the road.
The older Marshal chose to hold up a while, for he was having trouble keeping his bearings. To get lost in this weather would mean death.
A small cave would shield them from the wind and snow. The two felt very tired brought on by fighting the cold and snow. Soon both were asleep. Matt awoke to the sound of church bells ringing off in the distance. Night had fallen. The snow stopped.
Off in the distance was the glow of a fire. The hair prickles on the back of the experienced Marshal's neck. To the right was movement. His hand went to his gun. He could tell by the way it moved it was a human. Even in the dim light, he could recognize the 58 caliber Springfield rifled musket. It occurred to him Tom might have some friend who did not want him in prison. After securing his prisoner with shackles. Matt moved slowly out of the cave and worked his way behind the approaching gunman. Matt knew the Springfield had a design flaw. The spring tended to break, causing the cartridge to have to be removed manually.
Matt wiggled a bush. The gunman fired. Matt could tell the gunman was trying to remove the spent cartridge. Matt jumped out of the bush and onto the gunman, knocking him to the ground. To his surprise, he found himself
tangling with a boy. The boy put up a good fight, but the size and strength of the marshal subdued him.
The boy was still kicking and punching as Matt pulled him into the cave. "Jeff!" Tom yelled as Matt threw the Springfield at his feet."What the heck are you doing?" Tom asked his oldest son. "Paw, Paw, he hurt me!" Jeff yelled. Matt deposited him at his father's feet. "I thought I had your word you would not try anything. Shame on you for involving your son. I could have killed him!"
Tom looked up at Matt. "I didn't do anything. Jeff, what are you doing?" Jett struggled to his feet. "I was out hunting when this man jumped me." Matt examined the spring on the Springfield . "With this?" Tom explained, "I brought that home from the war. Had to sell my hunting rifle a while ago. Why were you out hunting in the dark?" Jeff looked a little defensive. "Mom told me you would not be coming home. I
am the head of the house now. Spent most of the day chopping wood so the little ones would not go cold. I made some mud filler to fill some of the cracks in the house and fixed the roof, milked the cow, brought in the eggs, cleaned the barn, and fed the stock. I realized I hadn't any meat for the dinner table, so I thought I could get a rabbit. I am so tired of turnip greens and eggs. The storm stopped me from hunting earlier."
After removing Tom's leg irons, Matt pulled his rifle from the buckboard. "I will do some hunting. You both better here when I get back. You do not want me to come after you."
Matt returned with quail, pheasants, and some prairie chickens. "This should do until I get back from Ellwood. I will get an elk for
them, to get them through the winter." Tom stood up. "Much-obliged marshal."Matt loaded up.
Tom's wife came running as they approached the house. She hugged the boy then looked at Tom. "Tom, you're home. They found out it was totally some kind of mistake. Tom your home!"
Matt took the birds to the barn while Tom explained to his wife. After cleaning the birds, and unloading the buckboard, Matt headed to the
brightly lit home. The windows looked inviting as heavy snow was now coming down. He dreaded knocking, knowing he would have to take the children's father off to prison. When Tom returned from prison, the children would most likely be married with farms of their own. Miss Mayfield's looks would reflect the stress of a hard prairie life. Tom will have changed into a hardened man that his wife would not recognize. Matt did not want to knock on that door, but it was his job.
The shanty was smaller than it looked from outside. Made of one thickness of wide boards with cracks between them, the shanty did little to keep the outside cold out. Snow was blowing through the cracks making miniature drifts on the floor. Some snow was on the bench where the children sat. A big stove sat in the middle of the room but could scarcely keep out the frost though it's sides burned bright red. The children were dressed warmly and sat by the stove. Matt accepted a cup of coffee and drank it slowly, then announced it was time to go.
Tom left the home without resistance, even though his wife and children cried. Once they got out of eyeshot, Matt put the shackles back on him. Knowing a man facing nine years in prison well try anything to escape, Matt did not want to kill Tom.
Snow fell softly as they rode on at a steady pace. The Marshal was two days late getting in. As he rode up he could smell the prison. The
gruff looking guards were none too friendly. Tom was taken by one of the guards while Matt went to the warden's office. The warden yelled at him for getting in late. He then threw a paper at Matt.
Matt could hardly believe his eyes. It seemed a man in Hillsville admitted on his deathbed, that he robbed the feed store and beat up the clerk. It seemed Matt being two days late stopped the prison from processing Tom. Therefore, he was still under the jurisdiction of the Marshal. The warden offered to house Tom until a new trial could be arranged. Matt said he would return him to Dodge.
It took the guards five hours to bring Tom out, and that was only after the Marshal paid them two dollars. Tom was very frightened and
confused when he boarded the buckboard. Matt yelled to the horses, slapped the reins, and they were off. "Let's make tracks!" Tom held on tight. He did not know what was going on, but getting out of this place seemed like a dam good idea to him.
Matt stopped in Ellwood, hoping to sell his silver spears to buy something for Kitty. He got five dollars and used one to buy a sparkly comb. He would have liked to buy her something more special, but he was out of time. If they rode hard, he could make it back to Dodge by Christmas night. He would not make the celebration, but maybe he and Miss Kitty could have a private celebration.
The rest of the money went for three dolls, three toy guns, and candy. They lost three hours in Ellwood and once again they were facing the night. The snow was piling up. The trail was full of ruts. Matt, though an expert horseman, was uncomfortable with the buckboard. He felt getting into the ruts would be the best. This strategy worked well until the ruts went one way, and they wanted to go the other. The snow was up to the axil and scraping on the bottom of the wagon. Tom said he would get out and walk, but that did little to help the situation. He soon became tired and fell behind the wagon. Matt, knowing he could not leave go of the reins, found it difficult to get Tom back in the wagon. When he did, Tom was frozen to the bone. Matt covered him with his buckskin coat.
Matt could feel his back muscles working as he tried to keep hands light on the reins, gently guiding the horses where he wanted them to go.
The buckboard seemed to grow in size as they rode along. Making bends were very difficult.
Driving past a farm, he saw stacks of forgotten corn stocks. The corn stocks in some way reminded him of Kitty. They looked like ladies at a dance. One looked like Kitty in her brown dress, corset tied so tight she could hardly breathe. He wondered what Kitty would think if she knew he thought she looked like a corn stock. Best not to tell her.
The moon turned the snow silver as they entered the woods. The woods were lovely, all dressed in shimmering white. Tree limbs were covered with glistening silver over a soft cotton blanket. The stars trembled with delight, the air was filled with bits of frost and crystals. The quiet woods reminded him of Kitty in her soft white dress with diamonds sparkling on her breasts, her dazzling beauty glistening in the night. His heart ached for her with a love he could not control.
Suddenly She was there in that white dress and silver trappings. She smiled at him sending warmth throughout his body. She leaned over so he could have a good look down her ample cleavage. With a soft warm breath, she whispered in his ear, "If you freeze to death, I will never talk to you again." Her hand moved along his back easing its pain. "I am waiting for you. You said you will be back."
The buckboard went under a branch drenching the marshal in wet cold snow. Realizing he was suffering from hyperthermia, he stopped under a large tree. He checked on Tom. He was talking nonsense but still alive. Matt left Tom his coat but took the red cape covering his head.
Tracks in the wood gave proof of close game. Matt shot an elk and lay it next to Tom, knowing the animal's body would keep him warm.