Chapter 2 – Recovery and Relapse
It was still March, too soon for anyone but locals to be in town. Still, it wouldn't be long before the gamblers and cattle buyers started drifting in so they'd be ready for the Texas cowboys and their herds. Thanks to the fact few strangers were in town Chester could look after the town while Matt lay in his sickbed in Doc Adams' backroom. Dodge City, and the jailhouse specifically, remained in one piece. There was still time for the US Marshal in Dodge to regain his full health; that is, if he didn't, as usual, get back to work before Doc thought he should.
During those first days after he was coaxed out of the stable Matt's temperature rose until, thanks to Doc's powders and Kitty's tender application of cool cloths, the fever finally broke. His redheaded nurse, who was soon joined by his personal physician, was the first to notice him crack open his eyes.
"Welcome back," Kitty, a relieved smile on her face, told him. "How are you feeling?" she added while Doc removed the thermometer from his mouth.
"Weak. What did you put in that last potion you made me drink earlier today, Doc?"
"Just the usual powders to bring down your fever. For your information you've been lying here for five days. Even as brilliant a doctor as me couldn't have saved you if that killer had managed to get a bullet or two in you. It sure didn't help any that you bedded down in the barn!"
"That means Judge Brooking will be here in two days on his regular circuit to try Joe Lyme," Matt replied ignoring Doc's rant. "That is if I still have a prisoner to try."
"It's a miracle, but he's still locked up," Doc replied as Chester walked into Matt's sickroom. "I'll make a deal with you, Mr. Marshal. I'll let you out of this bed in time to arrange for the trial if you promise to do everything I tell you until then. Of course if you give me any trouble I'll have Kitty sit on you to keep you here. If that happened Chester would probably end up convincing the jury Lyme didn't kill anyone. That is, unless he loses him on the way to court so there's no trial. It could destroy your reputation."
"If you put it that way, as much as I like the thought of Kitty on top of me, I won't argue with you. What do I have to do first?"
"You can start by eating that bowl of porridge I've been keeping warm on my stove for the past hour. If you're still hungry after that I'll let you talk to Chester while Kitty gets you some eggs and toast from Delmonico's. On second thought, I'll send Chester for the tray. Talking to him might very possibly cause you to lose your appetite."
The trial went as Matt hoped. Lyme would hang in Hays as soon as the Dodge City lawman got him there.
Although he wasn't his usual robust self yet after his collapse from overwork, Matt Dillon set out alone, except for his prisoner, a mere week after his fever broke to bring the man to his hanging. If he were to be truthful with himself, he was still far from healthy. He probably shouldn't have undertaken the trip, but what choice did he have? Wait for the Hays sheriff or his deputy to come to Dodge for the prisoner or trust Chester to deliver Lyme or at the very least come along? The first would only delay the hanging. The second option presented its own set of problems. While bringing Chester along on the approximately 75-mile trip might allow him to at least snatch a moment or two of rest, Joe Lyme was far too wily a killer to chance it. He'd trick his assistant at some point and get away without killing either lawman. Going it alone might actually mean he and his prisoner would make it to Hays. Therefore, despite hogtying his prisoner when they camped for the night, Matt remained fully awake until he turned Lyme over to Frank Reardon at the end of the trail.
"Matt, you look like you could use some rest and a home cooked meal," Frank said as soon as the condemned man was safely locked away for the few hours remaining until his hanging. "Why don't you spend the night? Maria would love to see you if only so you can assure her that Kitty's in better shape than you appear to be."
"I want to get right back to Dodge, but I wouldn't mind a couple hours of sleep at your house. Kitty would be mad if I didn't say hello to Maria."
Leaving his deputy in charge, Frank walked with Matt to the small house listed in Maria's name. The Cheyenne woman took one look at her man's best friend and then a sharp look at Frank. The Hays lawman understood. He shoved the bigger man toward a chair. Matt was too exhausted to resist. He sat at the table while Maria brought him a cup of coffee. Despite the restorative liquid and a heaping plate of grits, side meat and eggs, their visitor's head drooped. Frank pointed him toward the bedroom where he remained awake only long enough to remove his gun belt and boots.
"Matt, wake up. It's time."
"Time for what, Kitty? Can't it wait 'til I get some sleep?"
"It's Maria sleepyhead! Kitty's in Dodge. You're in my house. Time to join Frank to witness your prisoner's hanging."
Matt jumped up. As quickly as he could he put on his boots and vest, pinned on his badge and buckled on his gun belt so he could race out the door toward the plaza where the execution would take place. In less than a block he slowed his pace. Why rush to watch Lyme hang even if he was a killer who would relish the tables being turned? He could see Frank exiting his jail with the prisoner. Matt joined them for Joe Lyme's final moments.
Turning his back on the scaffold as the hangman pulled the lever, Matt strode quickly away from the scene. Despite his nap, he already felt tired. However, it was still morning so he strolled to the stable, saddled his buckskin then mounted, riding for home at an easy lope. He nodded off a couple of times, nearly spilling from the saddle, but kept riding. When he finally came to a stop, as the sun set, at a likely camping spot he'd covered all but a quarter of the distance between Dodge and Hays.
After a supper of beans washed down with coffee, Matt fell asleep as if his saddle were a soft pillow and the ground Kitty's bed. When he awoke, following as good a night's sleep as was possible camped out on the prairie, the lawman was surprised to see how high the sun was in the sky. As a result, it was noon by the time he reached his office. Even so, he managed to get cleaned up fast enough to have dinner with her.
"Will I see you later for a nightcap?" Kitty asked when Matt stopped by at the start of his late rounds.
"Sorry, but I've got some paperwork I didn't get to this afternoon. I think I'll go to bed in the office whenever I finish. It'll be quite late."
When Chester came back from matching dimes with Moss at one o'clock he found his boss sound asleep on the cot. Knowing Matt had returned that day from Hays, the jailer didn't have the heart to wake him and so simply fell asleep on the most comfortable bed in one of the cells. He had the coffee boiling before Matt stirred.
"Mornin' Mr. Dillon. Yah think we might get some breakfast after you've had some coffee? I only had a chance for a light bite of eggs, ham, taters and specklety gravy."
"No, Chester. Maybe later. Why don't you see if Doc or Kitty is available? I'm not very hungry. I'm going to my room to get a bit more sleep. See yah later."
As it happened both Doc and Kitty were free. Something about what Chester told them made Doc want to check on his friend. He and Kitty left Chester to keep an eye on things at the empty jail while they walked over to Matt's room at Ma Smalley's only to find he'd obviously suffered a relapse thanks to his dedication to that badge of his. Doc was about to usher Kitty out the door while he examined his patient when Matt awoke briefly.
"So, you're finally awake! You must be pretty darn sick for Chester to notice and come get me."
"Doc, you know Chester. I shouldn't have told him I wasn't hungry for breakfast when he was ready to eat a second one."
"Matt, let's see if your fever's back. You weren't completely over one of the worst bouts of influenza I've seen when you left for Hays three days ago."
For the next few days Matt tossed and turned as his fever raged. He was mostly incoherent, but finally on the fifth day after his return from Hays he became aware of his surroundings.
"In your humble opinion, will I live?" Matt asked as soon as the thermometer was out of his mouth. "I've got paperwork to catch up on thanks to you and Kitty doing your best to keep me in my room."
"Yep, you'll live, but it's only because you have such a fine physician and a mostly reliable nurse. Kitty does a fine job when she follows my instructions, even if the patient tries his best to get around them and leave his room when he has a raging fever. The paperwork can wait a bit longer. I doubt Washington will mind."
Two days later Matt Dillon was again without a fever. He started to rise to dress and head for his office and the paperwork he still hadn't tackled, but felt two hands pressing down on him shoving him back onto his bed.
"Promise me you'll lie down on Chester's cot or in one of the cells when you feel tired and that you'll get some nourishing food in you. You're still not completely well yet so don't be surprised if you start violently coughing. If you're curious, it's called bronchitis. You're lucky it's not pneumonia."
"I promise to try to take it easy Doc, but no guarantees. I'm expecting the first herds in any day now, you know. Do you want to join me at Delmonico's? I believe I'm hungry."
"I ate hours ago with Chester. Kitty's probably the only one who slept as late as you this morning. If you're well enough to get to your office you're probably strong enough to make it to the Long Branch and Delmonico's."
Doc was right. Matt felt only mildly tired after accompanying Kitty from her place of business to the restaurant and back. Of course, his first meal of any significance since he got home surely helped, despite a violent bout of coughing. He even felt frisky enough to want to stay at the Long Branch. She was the one who sent him on his way claiming she had work of her own. He arrived just as Chester was putting the mail on his desk. The marshal in Dodge leaned back in his chair, put his feet up on his desk and began sifting through the latest wanted posters while sipping coffee from the cup his assistant handed him. Despite several coughing bouts, he managed not to choke on the coffee, a remarkable feat at times, even when completely healthy.