Chapter 4 – Awakening to Confusion

Kitty didn't have to ask. The Bergmans immediately helped her get Matt into the buggy. Once he was positioned in such a way that it was highly unlikely that in his unconscious state he'd fall out as she drove as fast as she dared back into town and Doc, Kitty gathered up the reins. She was ready to let father and son deal with the dead outlaws, but Phil put one hand on the side of the buggy and the other on the reins.

"Miss Kitty, I reckon it was a good thing me and my boy Tom was out huntin' and come upon you and the marshal when we done. You be careful gettin' him to Doc while we head back to our place to fetch a couple of shovels so we can give them three a decent burial even though they don't deserve it. That is, it's what we'll do unless you'd rather one or both of us ride along with you."

"Thank you, Phil, but I can manage getting us home on my own. Sam and Chester can help me get Matt upstairs to Doc so he can check him over."

Matt never stirred as Kitty drove back to town. She didn't turn her head to look at him too often so she wouldn't hit something that she'd missed seeing that would jostle him more than absolutely necessary. However, that didn't mean her mind didn't wander back to the Trasks' arrival and what might have happened if Phil & Tom hadn't shown up just when they did. It wasn't so much the trauma of the man and two boys forcing themselves on her. It was that her cowboy would have been helpless to do anything but watch. At least he was spared that. She only hoped Matt wasn't too badly hurt.

It seemed to take forever but she finally made it back to town and reined in next to Doc's stairs. During the entire hour it took to get home Matt never stirred. If it weren't for his steady breathing, she would have thought him dead. She was ready to call out for help so she wouldn't have to leave his side, but because they were later than expected Chester and Sam had already run out of the Long Branch when they heard her drive up in order to do whatever was necessary. She led the way as the two men carried the inert body of their friend up the steep set of steps. Doc, having heard the commotion and then looking out his window, had opened his door wide so they could carry him directly to his examining table.

"There's no bleeding, but he has a couple of good sized lumps on either side of his head. We'll know more about the extent of the damage when he comes to."

Doc quickly chased Sam and Chester out of his office so he could talk to Kitty alone while keeping an eye on the inert form of the man he looked upon as almost a son. She tried her best to hold back the tears as she related the entire series of events, but finally gave into deep, nearly uncontrollable sobs. Doc did his best to console her like any father would do for a daughter who'd been through what she and that overgrown civil servant she loved had been through.

There was no change in his tall patient until late that night when Matt briefly awoke, but nowhere near long enough for Doc to learn if he was aware of his surroundings. He decided to take no chances and leave him exactly where he was until he could make a better determination of the extent of the brain injury. Accordingly, he didn't send Kitty for help from the Long Branch to carefully move the unconscious man to a bed. Instead, the two sat in chairs on either side of his examining/operating table to spend the night watching for any change.

When Chester and Sam stopped by after sunrise, Doc woke Kitty and tried to get her to have some breakfast or at least a cup of coffee that wasn't from a pot he'd made. He finally, with Chester & Sam's gentle yet firm persuasion, convinced her to go to Delmonico's and bring him back a tray, after she'd eaten, with two bowls of porridge, toast and coffee. The second bowl was in case Matt woke up and felt hungry.

As if he sensed he was alone with the town physician, Matt finally awoke. Doc had just turned back to his patient and taken his wrist to check his pulse when the big man opened his eyes and mouth.

"I'm not seeing too clearly. It probably has something to do with this awful headache, but you sure look like Doc Adams."

"Welcome back, Matt. You're right on two counts, which is a very good sign. I'm Doc Adams and your blurred vision has everything to do with your headache. Two blows to the head will do that to a man. You've got a severe concussion."

"What brings you to Yuma, Doc?" Matt continued, ignoring Doc's diagnosis. "You're lucky I'm still here."

"Matt, this is gonna sound strange, but you're suffering from a concussion," the good doctor replied paraphrasing his earlier statement before continuing. "How old are you and what month and year is this?"

"I'm near 16. It's the end of February '56. Why?"

"I was afraid of that. It so happens you're in Dodge City in my office," Doc replied holding back the fact that the patient on his examining table was a man of 32 in early October 1872.

"I reckon it's not February either. I must have traveled some between then and now to get back to Dodge. Last I remember I was planning on heading to Texas. I heard there was work I might scare up along the border. Reckon it didn't pan out. What's the month?"

Just as Doc replied that it was October, Kitty returned carrying a tray from Delmonico's. Doc motioned for her to put it on his desk and to take the seat next to the roll-top. He soon joined her, taking the desk chair. Before she could ask any questions, Doc told her so quietly, it was nearly a whisper, that Matt was awake, but not anywhere near recovered. He finally let her talk once his explanation of the situation was complete.

"Doc, if I went over to him would he recognize me?"

"I don't know, honey. He might know you despite his blurred vision and thinking he's a boy in 1856, but don't expect it. I don't want to pry, but what were you two talking about just before the attack? It just might help."

"We were joking about what our lives might have been like had we met when he was 16 in Texas while knowing it was impossible because I was a ten-year-old girl in New Orleans. I didn't come to Laredo until after my 14th birthday in February of '61 while Matt turned 21 that May and already had at least one girlfriend I know of, Cara. He hadn't met Dolly Winters yet."

The young woman and doctor of late middle age were unaware the patient had turned his head at the sound of the door opening and watched the approach of the newcomer carrying a tray or what he wanted. He didn't hear their whispered conversation, but he was anxious to get a closer view of her. Something about her was very familiar. It was as if some part of his befuddled mind knew he had a strong connection to her. At least, even with his impaired vision, he could tell her hair color. If she came closer he might be able to discern the color of her eyes. Maybe both clues would help set things straight for him. As strong has the pull was, he didn't feel up to moving any more than he already had.

"Hey Doc! Why don't you bring that redheaded girl you're talking to over to me? That is, unless you want to keep her for yourself. Maybe I'll just get up to grab that tray she brought over even if I'm not all that hungry so I can get a closer look."

"Oh no you don't. We'll just help you move over to the cot in the corner if you don't collapse on the way there and prop some pillows behind you so you can eat the porridge she brought you when you're ready to eat something. It just might be that I'll need that table for someone with a bullet in him."