Home is Where the Heart Is

Chapter 2

It was not a long walk from the Long Branch to his office, but Doc's thoughts weighed heavier on him with every step he took. He knew now what he was going to do. It would take several weeks to arrange, but it could be done.

He started by getting the San Francisco journal from his desk and opening it to page 24. There was an address there. Setting pen to paper he wrote to Drs. Mortimer and Williams, expressing his interest in the appointment advertised in the journal and briefly quoting his qualifications and experience. He placed it carefully in an envelope and in his precise hand addressed it clearly. He then took a second sheet of paper and envelope and wrote to a colleague, Dr Alan Sutherland. As far as Adams knew, Sutherland's wife had died as the result of a terrible accident about a year ago. The man was devastated and handed his practice over to another physician so he could take time off to try to recover. Now he heard that the man was helping out here and there in practices of friends, but was looking to leave town and start afresh somewhere else. He knew Sutherland was a good physician, and Dodge would be a great opportunity for him. He addressed and sealed the second envelope and placed it alongside the first on his desk. One he would mail the next day, the second would wait until he heard from San Francisco. He would also send a vaguely worded telegram to Ben Williams in San Francisco. Nothing too specific, just enough to let man know he was interested. There was no way to be more explicit. Words traveled quickly from the telegraph office - unfortunately not all of them remained in the wires and it was important that no one hear of his plans.

He slept well that night, the pressure had been lifted from him, and the nightmares did not return. He tried to go about his life as usual while waiting for the reply from San Francisco. It took about two weeks to get back to him.

Drs. Mortimer and Williams were looking forward to Dr. Galen Adams joining their practice feeling that it would be a beneficial move for all concerned. They asked him to notify them, as soon as possible, of his estimated arrival date.

So that was it. In about two more weeks he would be leaving Dodge City. He had threatened to do it so many times but now it was actually going to happen. He had mixed feelings. No turning back now, he told himself. Just remember the reason he had planned to leave in the first place and enjoy being with his friends for the time he had left here in Dodge City.

He had managed to make subtle enquiries as to how a man might travel with as much speed as possible to California. It turned out that the Union Pacific Railroad stopped in Hays City. It would take him all the way to Sacramento. From there he would have to take a second train to San Francisco. That part would not be a problem. Leaving Dodge without anyone knowing or trying to stop him, that would be the difficult part.

ooo000ooo

Luck seemed to be on his side that evening. Earlier he had been to see Mr. Botkin at the bank. Trying not to arouse suspicion he had withdrawn $200.00 from his account which left an almost equal amount behind. Somehow he decided to leave it there. He could always send for it if he needed it - and if not, it was a kind of security, one last connection that he could not quite sever. He was just leaving the bank when Chester almost knocked him down. He was in a hurry going somewhere.

"Whoa there. Where are you going in such a hurry?" he grumbled to the young man with the stiff leg."You're going to knock somebody over."

"Well now Doc, I gotta hurry, yer see. I gotta get Mr. Dillon's horse ready because he's gotta leave town. Oh, not that he has to leave town but he has to go to Cimarron." The young man seemed quite breathless in his haste.

"Don't stand here talking to me then, why aren't you down at the stable?"

"Doc, you just asked me what I was doing and I was tryin' to tell yer."

Doc interrupted him. "Go on Chester, and mind you ...saddle that horse properly."

He wanted to say something more, something like "Stay safe Chester, and watch after Matt," but that would not work with what he was planning to do. So he said nothing more, just buried his feelings and moved on.

He made his way along the boardwalk heading back towards his office. He would pass right by the marshal's office and, almost unwillingly, thought about going inside. Matt Dillon was a man for whom he had developed an almost parental affection accompanied by a genuine admiration. It hadn't always been so. A little less than two years ago the brash young lawman had ridden into town on a big buckskin horse wearing a bright metal star on his shirt. In Doc's opinion at the time, the man was all pride. He thought he could out-draw and out-fight anyone around. He had watched the young man change under the burden of the job he had chosen. Gradually the energetic young marshal had become stoic and more introspective. The badge set him apart from the rest of the townspeople with the result that he had few friends. Some disliked him because he tried to keep violence and dishonesty out of the saloons and gambling halls and because he wouldn't permit crooked gamblers in the town. Others thought he was too tough on the Texas drovers who came into town with the trail herds. He kept them from destroying the city, but many business owners thought that sent some of the cattle money away from Dodge.

Most people were frightened to get too close to a man who had so many enemies, or were scared to become close friends with someone whose job did not come with a long life expectancy. There was one exception. The beautiful redhead, Kitty Russell, who had recently become part owner of the Long Branch Saloon. She had broken through much of the lawman's reserve. He noticed that Dillon stopped by the Long Branch a little more frequently than the other saloons. He would often sit at a table at the back of the room, talking to her. There was always a clear space between them and he had never seen them hold hands or show any affection there in the saloon or on Front Street. He had seen them eating together in Delmonico's and sometimes joined them there, but again there was no outward show of anything more than a fond friendship between two people who enjoyed each other's company. Of course he knew better. He had seen the connection between them starting from the time Kitty Russell had arrived in town. He had seen the fear and caring in Kitty's eyes after Matt Dillon had been shot right here on Front Street not long after she arrived.

Adams had got to know the young marshal pretty well in those first few months. He had spent more than a week getting him back on his feet after that episode with Dan Grat, and as he had thought to himself at the time, you can't go digging around inside someone's body with a probe and a scalpel, then work to save their life twenty-four hours a day for over a week, and not get to know them at least a little. Of course Matt Dillon was not an easy man to get to know.

At first he had thought it was pride that drove him on to face Grat a second time, but he was wrong. It took him a while to figure out that Dillon really believed in the badge he wore. He knew he was helping to bring law and order to the West and in doing so was saving lives of innocent people. In reality Dillon looked on it as a duty that had been thrust upon him and he would accept the burden willingly even if it wasn't really what he would have chosen.

Adams had reached the heavy wooden door to the marshal's office and hesitated mid-stride as if trying to make up his mind. At last he opened it and walked through. The marshal was packing a few supplies into a well-worn saddle bag.

"So you're leaving town?"

"I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, Doc, just a shot trip to Cimarron to collect a prisoner the sheriff is holding in the jail there. Figured if I left now I'd get there before dark."

Doc didn't say much. This was probably the last time he would see his friend, the man who had been so ready to lay down his life for him in Jed Butler's cabin. It wasn't easy, but he knew what he had to do.

"Well,... just be careful Matt." He wanted to shake hands or at least say he felt it had been a privilege to know him, but knew he couldn't do that. He passed his hand over his face as Dillon hefted the saddle bags onto his shoulder and started towards the door.

"Guess I'll see you later Doc."
Doc didn't say anything, he just watched the tall lawman head towards the stable.

TBC