Chapter 2 – Picnics and Thoughts

Matt did what he could one-handed to help Kitty. From his point of view she was doing more than her fair share, but at least they had the horse unhitched, a blanket spread out on the ground in the shade of a copse of trees with the picnic basket on it and the fishing gear stashed between two large rocks by the stream. There was even some wine cooling in the rushing waters of the creek.

Although their lunch would be private, the fishing spot in front of it was relatively open by comparison. It consisted of a couple of well-shaped rocks that were just close enough together that they could easily lean into one another yet far enough apart that the rods and bait could be anchored between them. A large tree directly behind the rocks provided all the shade they could want from the early July sun. It didn't matter that the trees on the farther bank came right down to the shoreline effectively hiding anyone who might be lurking opposite them.

Since it was still too early to eat and it would take at least an hour for their beverage to chill enough to make drinking it worthwhile, the two decided to spend the time fishing. They made themselves comfortable, their lines dangling into the water and their legs straight out in front of them, with Matt stretched out on Kitty's right so he could wedge the fishing pole in the crevice between their two back rests if he had a mind to let his left arm drape across her shoulders.

By the time Doc and Festus had settled themselves across the water in a spot at a slight bend that allowed the two men a clear view of the couple fishing without that very couple knowing they were being watched, Matt had his arm around Kitty, who had both of hers on her pole. It was a good thing too because a good-sized catfish had decided the worm on her hook was just the thing and she had all she could do to try and reel it in. Doc and Festus smiled at the sight, each for his own reasons.

Soon all four were busy catching fish. Matt and Kitty worked out a system whereby he'd leave his strong left arm around her shoulder to provide an extra anchor and she'd put her soft right hand over his left when his line, anchored in its crevice, jerked. By the time they'd landed four fish, which they left dangling in the rapidly moving water, they were ready to eat. Matt grabbed the bottle from the water with his good hand and, while hanging on to it, wrapped that arm around Kitty's waist. She, in turn, did the same with her right arm, but without a bottle. Thus entwined, they ambled back to the blanket and their picnic lunch. The observers across the way continued to fish, but Doc strained to see what Matt might be doing with his right arm and hand.

He needn't have worried. The loss of strength and agility earlier in the morning had put a scare in the big lawman. He was determined to follow Doc's instructions even if Kitty weren't prepared to see that he did. A day or so of complete rest for his gun arm followed by Doc's exercise routine for restoring that arm to as close to full use as possible while avoiding over use of the muscles seemed a prudent course since Matt had no idea what he'd do if forced to retire. Eating with his left hand wasn't as awkward as when he'd first taken the bullet that might have permanently crippled his right arm, but it wasn't as comfortable as with his right. Kitty had thoughtfully provided food that didn't require a knife to cut it, although she did slice his piece of apple pie for him.

Satiated from their meal, they lay back contentedly on the blanket snuggled up against each other. They might have drifted off to sleep had Kitty not taken out a pad and pencil so she could jot down notes as Matt talked about the investigation that had caused his relapse in the first place. That wasn't entirely true, he had spent far too many hours practicing drawing, aiming and firing his six-gun in an effort to restore his skill to its previous level sooner rather than later.

"Start talking, Cowboy. Which saloon in which town came first?"

"That would be the Whistle Stop in Wichita. It's also the farthest east. The takeover pattern followed there was repeated in each of the county seats, although they seemed to follow a similar pattern heading eastward in Colorado."

The pattern that emerged as Matt talked was a case of towns north and south of Dodge being hit as the gang moved both east from Fort Collins and Cannon City in Colorado and west from Wichita and Salina in Kansas almost simultaneously. In each town the two or three men chose the classiest saloon there and used the owner's weaknesses and vulnerabilities to put pressure on him or them to sell out. Once the sale was complete, the former owners were found dead in an alley or so beat up they might as well have been dead. Until now Matt had talked to lawmen, survivors and other witnesses to the takeovers after the fact. He hoped he was right in believing Garden City was next and that his arm would allow him to get there before the takeover was finalized. He planned to hide the fact he was the US Marshal when he rode in there with a carefully assumed persona and maybe worm his way into the confidence of whatever members of the gang were there.

Kitty had filled three pages of the pad with detailed descriptions and put check marks next to each similarity to highlight the pattern that Matt now saw when they heard the rattle of a buggy's wheels and the clip clop of a mule's hoofs. Before the source of those sounds came into view, they heard the two men associated with each bickering. Sure enough, it was Doc and Festus.

"Oh, did we disturb you two? We were fishing nearby and thought we saw you."

"Doc, you're not a very good liar. You and Festus were spying on us and got worried I'd done something foolish when you didn't see us for more than an hour. If you don't believe me, maybe you'll believe Kitty. I've kept my arm in the sling the whole time. She's been helping me organize my report."

Not long after Doc and Festus' arrival, the four friends headed home although the travel arrangements didn't quite suit either Matt or Kitty. Doc insisted Matt ride back with him while Festus drove Kitty home with Ruth tied to the back of the buggy. Once they reached Dodge, Doc parked his buggy in the alley so he and Matt could dart up the stairs to the physician's office. Kitty followed as soon as Festus helped her down from their buggy before he drove it on to Hank's stable.

Doc had Matt run through a series of movements with his arm before sending him and Kitty up the back stairs of the Long Branch with his arm back in the sling. He and Festus then cleaned and cooked the fish so the four of them could eat dinner around the table in her rooms away from prying eyes. Matt was left alone upstairs to run through the exercises Doc had shown him earlier before returning his arm again to the sling. They consisted of a series of slow, gentle bends of the elbow, lifting of the arm above his shoulder and half turns of the wrist in each direction followed by wriggling his fingers one at a time and then together as he opened and closed his fist. He was to do this ten times or less, if he felt any twinges. This routine was to be repeated before bed, but he was to stop completely at the least sign of pain, weakness or decreased agility. When he finished he was to leave his arm out of the sling for an hour but not do anything but let it hang loosely at his side or rest on a table or arm of a chair.

Matt had become bored while waiting for Kitty to finally return from downstairs to join him for the night. He'd even started reading a book of poems by Walt Whitman he'd found to relieve the growing boredom. She helped him prepare for bed and watched as he completed his exercises for the least sign that he was hiding anything. She was satisfied, so much so that she put the sling on the table on her side of the bed. Doc had told her that he didn't need to wear it if he had no sign of discomfort or loss of agility until the next morning.