My Town, My Responsibility

Chapter Two

On the Trail

Already trail weary and cold from the extra long ride down from Hayes, Matt picked up his mount at the stable and with a soft, "Sorry, son, but you're the best option I have," pointed the buckskin west in the direction of the prairie and the path that young Petey said the children and their teacher had taken. After clearing the edge of town, man and horse were riding into the wind, the unrelenting sleet and snow pelting their faces and stinging their eyes. It was slow going, and even as they rode, the temperature plummeted, and the wet trail turned to treacherous ice beneath Buck's hooves. Visibility was reduced to almost zero, and after an hour or so of calling futilely into the dark for Jenny and the children and dismounting and re-mounting several times to ensure that an odd shape along the road was not the teacher or a small child, the lawman knew that neither he nor his horse could safely go on. He turned in the saddle and squinted into the blinding blizzard, seeking some semblance of shelter on the open prairie. A small copse of low hanging trees off to the right seemed like his best bet, and he nudged Buck toward them. Once off the trail, the animal unexpectedly shied and reared, losing his footing on the ice and sending his rider tumbling to the frozen ground.

As Dillon rolled clear of the flailing hooves, excruciating pain seared through his right knee, and he roared like a grizzly into the dark night. A scared voice near his ear whispered, "Don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me."

Startled by both the fall and the tiny voice coming from the trees, Matt responded softly. "I won't hurt you. My name's Matt. I'm Marshal Dillon from Dodge City. What's your name?"

"I can't see you. Are you the big man that wears a badge on his shirt?"

"Yep. That would be me. And would your name be Hallie, by any chance?"

"Unh hunh. M'brother Henry's here, too. He's layin' on my legs, and he won't get off. I think he's mad at me for bein' scared. He won't even answer me when I talk to him."

Fearing the worst, Matt said, "Hallie, honey, I'm going to get a lantern from my saddle. You just sit tight, and I'll be right back." He gingerly rose to his full height, pleased to note that, except for a stinging raw spot on his face where his cheek had scraped the ice and a sharp pain in his knee, he was uninjured. He trudged as quickly as possible to the spot where Buck was now standing placidly, waiting for his rider to return. He untied the lantern from the saddlehorn and, holding it high, worked his way back to the trees and to Hallie and her brother.

He set the lantern on the ground and said, "Okay, let's get you and Henry out of there. Are you hurt, Hallie?"

"My arm hurts," she answered and began to cry softly. "It hurts real bad. And Henry still won't get off my legs," she added with a little whine.

"All right, then. I'm gonna lift Henry off of you first." In the lantern light he could clearly see the boy lying prone across his sister's legs, unconscious—or worse. Bending down, he lifted the child into his arms, noting the staring, unfocused eyes and the total lack of movement. Turning his back to the little girl, he slapped the child's face. No response. Shifting Henry to one arm, he reached under the thin jacket and placed his palm against the little chest. Feeling nothing, he slid his fingers down to the tiny wrist, searching for a pulse as he had watched Doc do hundreds of times. Again he felt nothing.

"Hallie, I need to carry you and Henry out of here. I'm going to lean down, and I need you to put your good arm around my neck and hold on real tight. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," she whimpered and did as instructed. Matt hefted her high against his chest, grabbed the lantern with the hand of the arm still holding Henry, and carried the twins out of the copse of trees to the waiting horse. He laid Henry across the animal's back and lifted Hallie onto the big saddle. "Hold on honey, I'll be up behind you in a minute," he said. He tied the lantern again to the saddlehorn and secured Henry behind in the same manner he had used on many an outlaw. Then he climbed into the saddle behind the little girl and asked, "How did you two get here? And where are your teacher and Jerry?"

"Teacher fell down."

"Can you tell me where she fell down?"

"Back there," the child replied, pointing a tiny finger in what might have been any direction at all.

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Matt's lips twitched at the absurdity of expecting a six year old to give accurate directions in the face of a blinding blizzard and pitch blackness. He doubted many grown men could do that. He sighed and tried again. "You were walking home from school with your teacher and Jerry Jacobs. Your teacher fell down. Can you tell me what happened next?"

"Teacher told us to sit under the trees 'cause they would keep us warm. And she told us we should stay together, but Jerry didn't listen. He said he was big enough to go get help."

"So you're saying your teacher is somewhere around here, too? And she talked to you after she fell down?"

"Uh hunh." Hallie twisted in the saddle to look at the big man behind her. "I'm hungry, mister. Can we go home now?"

"Tell you what," he took half of a ham sandwich from the napkin in his pocket and handed it to her. "You sit here and eat this while I look around for your teacher. Then I'll take you home," he answered as he climbed wearily down from the saddle and tied Buck to the nearest bush.

"JENNY, JENNY KURTZ, CAN YOU HEAR ME? IT'S MATT DILLON. HOLLER IF YOU CAN HEAR ME.

He repeated the call several times, stopping after each one to listen for a response. Finally he heard a weak, "Over here, Marshal."

He called again, but this time there was only silence. He called again and again until finally there was another thin cry of "here." Heart pounding, he followed the sound of the schoolteacher's voice, pacing off about a hundred yards before he found her, face down in a bank of snow. "Thank God, Jenny. Are you hurt?"

"My feet feel like they're on fire, and I keep passing out. The children—are they okay?"

"Hallie says her arm hurts, but she seems okay otherwise. I'm afraid Henry didn't make it, though. And I haven't seen Jerry. Hallie says he went for help." He lifted the schoolteacher to her feet. "Can you walk?"

"I guess we'll find out." She smiled gamely at him in spite of her pain, took five steps and fell forward against him.

"Jenny?" Matt scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the waiting horse and child. As he stood trying to figure out how to get the school teacher onto Buck's back, and how to keep her there, she again re-gained consciousness. "Jenny, do you think you can ride?"

"If I can keep from fainting, I can," she replied. "I don't know why this keeps happening."

"Let's get you up there and see how it goes. It's gonna be a tight fit, but I think we can make it." He slid Henry's body as far back on Buck's rump as possible and swung Jenny up in front of it. Speaking softly to his horse, he said, "You're not gonna be happy about this, fella, but it's the only way." He then hoisted his own body in front of Jenny's and settled the little girl in front of him. They rode in silence for several minutes with only the hint of a pale moon in the sky to suggest the way. The slow, rolling pace of the horse lulled Hallie to sleep against his chest, and he called softly over his shoulder, "You still with me, Jenny?"

"Right here, Marshal. I still feel lightheaded, and my feet are burning something fierce, but at least I'm staying upright."

"Good, then you can help keep a lookout for Jerry. There should be some farmhouses coming up soon, and we'll stop at the first one we see." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "You hungry, Jenny? Maybe it would help if you ate something."

"Maybe, but I don't have…"

"Reach in my left coat pocket. You'll find a couple sandwiches in there. Take what you want. Hallie ate half of one a while back."

"I'll eat the other half. How 'bout you, Marshal, you want one, too?"

"Not right now. I can wait."

They rode on in silence once again until Jenny spoke softly. "I'm sorry, Marshal. I knew it was wrong to send the children out in this storm, and I shouldn't have listened to Mr. Wheatley, but he…" Her voice trailed off.

"It's all right, Jenny. Petey Kreider told me what happened, that Wheatley threatened you with losing your job." His voice was hard, angry.

"It shouldn't have mattered, I should have done what I knew was right, job or no job."

"None of that, Jenny, don't go blamin' yourself."

Again there was silence—silence and freezing cold and swirling snow as they rode along—the big buckskin picking his careful way across the icy prairie with his precious cargo—the lawman, a sleeping child, the frozen body of her twin brother, and the schoolteacher who bore the guilt for something that was not her fault.

"Marshal, is that a light off to the left?"

"It is, Jenny, I just spotted it myself." Resisting the urge to spur their mount to a faster pace, Matt tugged on the reins and pointed him toward the glow of light in the distance.

xXx

"Open up!" He pounded on the door for the second time. "It's Marshal Dillon!"

This time the door swung open, and he found himself looking down into the startled face of a pretty dark-haired girl of barely more than twenty. "Oh, Marshal, am I ever glad to see you. Come in. I'm Nelda Gallagher."

Placing a hand on Hallie's head, Matt ducked through the doorway with the sleeping child nestled on his shoulder. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Gallagher. I'm Matt Dillon, the marshal over in Dodge City. I'd like to warm her up in here if it's all right with you." As he spoke, Hallie lifted her head from his shoulder and asked drowsily, "Are we home, mister?"

"No, honey, we're not home, but this nice lady is going to let us stay here where it's warm for a while. He looked pointedly at Nelda Gallagher, who nodded in agreement. "Can you take her for a minute? There's someone else I need to bring in."

He transferred Hallie into Nelda's arms and went quickly outside to lift Jenny from the saddle and carry her indoors. He felt a pang of guilt about leaving Henry behind, but saw no point in bringing a dead child into the house to get warm. Back inside, he deposited Jenny into the rocking chair by the fire, noticing that Nelda had already removed Hallie's wet clothing and had her tucked up on the davenport under a colorful knitted afghan. With the most pressing matters taken care of, Matt turned to Nelda Gallagher. "You said you were glad to see me, ma'am? Is there a problem here?"

"Not a problem exactly, but there's a little boy…" She pointed to a door that presumably led to a bedroom. "He came by late this afternoon looking for help. Says his name is Jerry Jacobs and that his teacher and classmates were lost in the storm. I wanted to help him, honest I did, but my baby is only a month old. I couldn't leave him to go out looking for them, and I couldn't very well take him with me either. So I did the only thing I knew to do—I fed Jerry and put him in one of my husband's shirts and put him to bed. He's been asleep ever since."

For the first time in what seemed like forever, a smile crossed Matt Dillon's face. "Mrs. Gallagher, that young lady in the rocking chair is Jerry's teacher, Jenny Kurtz, and this little girl is Hallie, one of those classmates he mentioned."

"One of?" Nelda questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Unfortunately, yes. Her brother Henry didn't make it. He's outside strapped to my horse."

He saw the tears start in Nelda's dark eyes before she crossed the room to Jenny's side and asked matter-of-factly, "What can I do for you, Miss Kurtz?" Then she turned back to the lawman. "I don't know if you can get to the barn or not, but you're welcome to feed and water your horse and put him up if you can."

Matt nodded his thanks, pulled his collar up one more time, and walked back outside to lead the buckskin to shelter. Both man and horse slipped and slid their way to the barn to find a draft horse and a small paint already housed there. He removed the heavy saddle and gently laid Henry on a bale of hay saying, "I'm sorry this happened to you, Henry, but you probably saved your sister's life—or at least her legs."

The barn was neat and well-fitted, and Matt had no trouble finding a coarse brush which he used to rub down his exhausted mount with quick, sure strokes that removed the ice and snow from the horse's coat. He inspected each hoof and used his pocket knife to remove the small, hard balls of ice that had embedded themselves into the grooves of each shoe. "You feel better now, boy? Enjoy it while you can 'cause we're not done yet." He put down an extra ration of grain and hay, and assuming it had been a while since the other horses had eaten, too, he pulled down feed for them as well and broke the ice on the troughs so that they all could drink. He made note of an empty stall at the end of the row, presumed it belonged to the husband's horse, and wondered where Mr. Gallagher might be.

Back inside, he found Jenny in dry clothes and seated at the kitchen table with Nelda, talking, drinking hot coffee and eating corn bread warm from the oven. Hallie was still curled under the afghan, and he assumed Jerry was still asleep in the room Nelda had indicated earlier. Just then a baby cried, and Nelda excused herself and went quickly into the only remaining room in the little house. While he took off his hat and shrugged out of his wet coat, Jenny poured coffee into the third cup on the table, cut off an enormous wedge of corn bread and placed it on a plate. "Sit down, Marshal. I know for a fact you haven't had anything to eat in hours."

Nodding, he lowered his huge frame onto the kitchen chair, wincing as he stretched out his aching leg. "Thanks, Jenny. You feeling better?"

"I am. Nothing like a warm fire and good food to make a girl feel better. Speaking of which, there are still two sandwiches in your coat pocket if you want something more than this."

Matt grinned and rose again to retrieve the blue and white checked napkin from his pocket. He returned to the table just as Nelda Gallagher came back into the room. After waiting for her to sit down, he said, "You mentioned your husband, Mrs. Gallagher. May I ask where he is?"

"Please call me Nelda, Marshal. Joe—my husband—went into Dodge this morning. He had some business at the bank and the land office, but he hasn't come back. I was hoping you might have some word of him, but…"

Matt shook his head, then remembered a tall young man with blond curls seated with the group of men around the stove at the Long Branch. Someone had called him 'Joe.' "What does he look like, Nelda?"

"Oh, he's a fine lookin' man, big, but not as big as you. He has lots of blond curls that kinda flop down on his forehead." She blushed. "But you wouldn't be noticin' that. He was wearing a blue and black flannel shirt."

"I saw him, Nelda. He was with a group of men who had ridden out looking for Hallie and her brother. They were waitin' for another search party to return to see if they needed to ride out again."

"That sounds like something Joe would do, he's always looking for adventure of some kind. That's how come we're here. We were living in a nice, quiet town back in Pennsylvania, but Joe thought it was too quiet, so we packed up and headed west. He talked about going all the way to California, but then when it looked like the baby was coming sooner than expected, we decided it might be better to settle right here, at least for a while."

"How long have you been here?" Matt asked as he spread a thick layer of butter onto the corn bread.

"Just a little over a month, since just before Davey was born."

"Well, Nelda, I'm mighty grateful to find you out here tonight. Would it be all right with you if I rest my horse for a couple hours? Then I'll try to get Hallie on home to her parents."

"Of course, Marshal. If you'd like to rest, too, just go into that bedroom where Jerry is. I looked in on him while you were out at the barn, and he was still sound asleep."

"I might take you up on that in a bit." He turned to the teacher, who had been quietly sipping her coffee. "You have any idea what happened to Hallie's arm? She said it hurts real bad."

Jenny Kurtz shook her head. "Nothing happened while she was with me. But she's a stoic little thing. If she says it hurts 'real bad,' I'm sure it does." She shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I just don't know."

"Well, she's sleepin' peaceful right now, so I'm not going to bother her to take a look at it. We'll see what she says when she wakes up." Matt rose from the chair. "And now, Nelda, I'm going to take you up on that offer of a bed, but if I'm not out here again in two hours, promise you'll come wake me."

TBC

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