After an hour ride, Doc pulled his buggy up to the front of the MacKay homestead. He had to grasp his hat as a gust of wind made a grabbed for it. Doc squinted at the threatening summer sky then clutched his medical bag before joining Matt on the front porch. "Looks like we're in for a bad storm later today, don't it?"

Matt held his own hat in place and nodded while opening the front door allowing the doctor through the entrance. The house was dingy, mostly because ol' Charlie spent most of his money on booze. Wilma did the best she could and added some colour to the rooms with small arrangements of wild flowers that were found around the yard. God forbid that Charlie ever bought her anything pretty.

Doc removed his hat and looked to Matt who pointed to the bedroom. Doc drew his hand across his moustache and took a deep breath to prepare himself at what he might see. From Matt's description, it wasn't going to be good by any stretch of the imagination.

Doc opened the door to the dimly lit room and walk to the large bed on the opposite wall. The small window allowed to Doc look at Wilma. He shook his head in disgust. Her face was swollen and badly bruised. There was dried blood on her lips. She hardly even moved to breathe.

Doc removed his coat and draped it over the foot of the bed. As he'd done a thousand times before, his hands quickly pulled the metal case from his vest pocket and placed the silver framed glasses on his nose, looping the arms over his ears. The old doctor's face was sullen.

Matt leaned on the door frame. "Anything I can do, Doc?"

Doc looked up from Wilma MacKay and nodded. "I'll need hot water. Lots of it. Ol's Charlie really did it this time..." there was sadness in Doc's voice as he opened his medical bag and started to remove gauze and antiseptic to clean some of Wilma's wounds. The whole time Doc slowly shook his head.

Outside, the summer heat continued to bare down on the plains and the storm seemed to be building in the distance.

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Festus walked up the boardwalk with his hand placed firmly down on his old hat. Dust swirled in the wind that swept up Front Street causing lighter items to blow off the walk and out into the street.

Kitty spotted the hill man and waved him over. "What are you doing out there! You're liable to be blown away!" she joked as Festus entered the Long Branch.

"You are likely right about that, Miss Kitty! This here weather is perfect fer a twisty." Festus said as he leaned on the bar and cleared his throat of the dust.

Sam stood opposite him and looked down on the hill man. "A what?" Sam asked. Kitty was equally interested to hear what Festus has to say and leaned in to hear what he had to say.

"A twisty...you know they swirl around and blow through here and there all the time - bustin' up places...they could lift a whole forest up by the roots and place it down a hundred miles away, jist like it were planted thar..." Festus explained.

"Oh...I think some folks call them tornados..." Sam said trying not to upset Festus as he pour him a drink of whiskey. "You could be right about that though. It sure is hot enough." Sam's velvet baritone voice seemed almost calming even with the approach of foul weather. "Luckily, I've never seem one that close to Dodge before."

"Here's hoping it stays that way..." Festus winked and hoisted his drink and gladly took a long soothing sip.