SEVEN
Slim Manley was a big man, nearly as large as Dillon. Between he and Seamus they got Matt to his feet and walked him wobbly legged back to his horse. It took considerably more maneuvering to get him in the saddle and they finally opted to lay him stomach first. His only sign of protest was a painful grunt as he fell against the horse's back. He wasn't aware of being tied down like packing, and transported across the rough terrain.
GSGSGSGSGS
Kitty and Johnny had moved the chuck wagon so it was closer to the herd. Years of catering to cowboys had given her an insight into the psychology of men. She knew the comfort the smell of food brought to them. The scent of bacon frying and brewing coffee was as much a part of their sustenance as the actual grub which filled the cowboys bellies. One by one the men had returned for fresh mounts and a quick cup of coffee, or an egg and bacon sandwich eaten on the run. Kittyhad been kept busy all morning. Not that she minded, for she knew as hard as she was working the men of the Yellow River Cattle Alliance were working harder.
She had unloaded the bedrolls from the chuck wagon and had piled them ready for the weary cowboys. With each new rider her head shot uphopefully. She offered a welcoming smile and a cup of coffee, laced with sympathy for their exhaustion over the night's labors.
Mid morning, Carl had ridden in with news that the herd had been turned. "Any news of Matt?" she had asked.
`Ja." he had answered. "Mathias und Slim, dey were up at da front, doin da hart vork. It vas dem dat tuned da cows."
"Did you seem him?" she asked hopefully.
"Auch, don't you vorry none, Katzke, he vill be fine." Carl smiled and patted her arm.
"Katzke?" she asked looking back at him quizzically.
"Forgive me, I too forward am being, Ja?" He smiled apologetically, "I tink of you as my own . . . Katzke, it means … little cat."
"Katzke." she repeated, "I like it just fine." she noticed the strain of weariness etched on his face.
"You better rest now, Carl, we can't have anything happen to you."She leaned over and gave him a kiss on his cheek before pushing him in the direction of the bedrolls.
Almost everyone had reported in but Seamus, Slim and Matt. Time seemed at a standstill and a slender thread held her nerves together. Always possessed of a vivid imagination Kitty's thoughts were conjuring pictures of the worst. It was going on mid-day when she finally saw the three horses off in the distance moving in the direction of the camp. It took a moment before Kitty realized that only two of the riders were upright in their saddles. In that instant she knew the third horse belonged to Matt. She dropped the coffee pot she was holding and ran to the riders. Seeing his body draped over the saddle she ran all the faster. Calling his name as she went, "Matt, Matt…"
Seamus sought to ease her distress as they pulled up outside of the roped corral. "He be alive, Miss Kitty, just lost some blood, got a nasty bruise on his head too. But, he be alive.'
She grabbed for calm and self control. "I'll get his bedroll ready, you bring him over."
She ran ahead of the men, spreading his blankets out on the far side of the wagon, where he would be shielded from the high noon sun. While Seamus and Slim eased the wounded man to the ground, Kitty climbed into the wagon to retrieve her medicine box.
Seamus made a hasty exam of the wound. "Looks like the bullet traveled clean through, he be needing some stitching I'm thinking. "Mulgrew's face took a green tinge, he had tended ailing cows, butchered hogs and chickens, but the sight of human blood made him sick to his stomach.
He leaned away, "I'd best be getting back to the herd. They've settled down and I don't be reckoning they've got the strength to go on anymore sightseeing trips, at least for a day or so." He stood and made a move to leave when she stopped him with her question. "Seamus, who did this to Matt?"
"You be knowing as will as I." He replied.
"Scharpf!" She spat out.
He nodded. "More likely Hoppe and his henchmen." He turned to Manley. "Slim, I'm asking you to stay here and help Miss Kitty with her tending to Matthew, when that be done, you'd best be getting some sleep. We'll be needing you later."
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"What can I do to help?" He asked. Kitty was already unbuttoning Matt's shirt.
"Help me get this shirt off, then I'll need hot water." She was examining the wound when he returned with the basin of hot water. He set it down beside her and settled back on his heels waiting for her next orders. He couldn't help but notice the old bullet wounds that littered the injured man's torso. "What did he do before he came here? Looks like he's been used for target practice atime too often."
Kitty glanced up from her work. "You might say that. He was a lawman. Ever hear the name of Matt Dillon?"
"Dillon?" Manley repeated, puzzled. "I thought his name was Smith." He was intrigued with the gentleness of the woman's hands as they tended Matt's wound. "Guess everyone's heard of Marshal Matt Dillon of Dodge City, Kansas." He paused. Something was coming to him, but he left the thought unspoken, "and his woman Kitty Russell." The picture became clear; Mrs. Will Stambridge was Kitty Russell.
She pulled a skein of gauze from the box containing her medical supplies. She took out a large brown bottle and saturated the cloth with its contents, then placed it over the bullet hole allowing the medicine to seep into the wound. She did the task competently without any indication of squeamishness. That chore accomplished she pulled out a packet of surgical needles and thread. She held the needle to the light to pass the thread through, and used her teeth to separate the thread from its spool.
She took a deep breath, holding it until she had pushed the needle through his skin drawing the wound closed. Her actions were quick and sure. When she had finished she placed a clean gauze bandage over the wound, then drew the blanket over Matt's exposed chest.
"You've done that before." Slim stated.
She nodded. "I've helped a time or two, never had to sew him up myself though."
He noticed how tired and pale she suddenly looked, and realized what it had taken to do what she had just done. "You did just fine, Ma'am. Now you just sit back and rest for a spell. I'm gonna dish you up some grub, looks like you could use some stouting up."
He returned in a few minutes balancing two plates of food and two mugs of coffee. He sat on the ground next to her, as she relieved him of half of his burden. "It's a lucky man who's got a woman who cares about him."
"Have you a woman Slim? She asked.
"Had a wife, guess I still do - she's back in Iowa, we got two young'ins, little boy and girl. She didn't think the west civilized enough to bring up a family." He glanced at Matt. "Guess she's right."
Slim ran a hand over his tired eyes, squeezing them shut, trying to work the weariness out of them. "You'd better go lay down before you collapse," she told him kindly.
He stood. "Yes Ma'am, I expect you're right." He turned and was cornering the wagon when he was stopped by her softly spoken words. "I'm the lucky one." She had taken Dillon's hand in her own two, holding it close to her breast.
GSGSGSGSGS
He drifted in and out of the living world that day. Blood loss, fatigue, the head injury aided by a liberal dose of laudanum had rendered him incapable of anything more than a few moments of consciousness. Those times he was aware were clouded by pain. Kitty was always there, her cool hands would brush the hair from his forehead and offer him drinks of water and spoonfuls of painkiller. He would drift back to a troubled sleep. His exhausting dreams had him saving Kitty from rampaging herds, drunken cowhands, stagecoach holdups, and gunslingers named Will Stambridge.
GSGSGSGSGS
By the end of the day all of the men had taken a turn at their bedrolls. Carl and his boys had prepared a dinner of beans and left over biscuits, so she could remain close to Matt.
"Katzke, essen." Carl said as he offered her a plate.
Kitty smiled at Carl's kindness but refused the food. "No thanks Carl. That cup of coffee will suit me just fine."
It was past midnight when Seamus came by to see how Matt was doing. "What if they try it again?" Kitty asked.
"I've doubled up on night watch, but I'm thinking they'll not betrying anything tonight." He replied.
"Why does it have to be like this?" She wondered.
"Tis animals they are, the worst kind - human animals." Mulgrew answered.
She nodded grimly. "I've half a mind to get me a gun and track them down myself!"
Her fighting words were enough to stir Dillon to wakefulness. He forced his eyes open. His words came out weak but there was no doubting the sincerity. "You do, and I'll make good my threat, woman." He squeezed her hand as hard as he had the strength to do, to bring home his intent.
