Chapter 8 - An Eventful Trip Toward Home

Matt left the vicinity of the gallows as quickly as he could once his legal duty was over, saying a quick good-bye to Frank. He'd already packed his belongings and stowed them by the hotel desk. There was nothing very important in them. He was carrying his pistol, money and watch and his saddle and the rest of his rig, including his rifle, was with the stableman, who'd been instructed to have Buck ready within five minutes of the hanging, including filling his canteen.

Mounting, his large buckskin, Matt turned his head southwest toward home. It was still early enough that he hoped to camp for the night somewhere between Ness City and Jetmore about 40 miles from Dodge. If he got an early start the next day, he just might make it to town in time to have supper with Kitty. The first day went smoothly except that his coffee, when he stopped for the night, tasted a bit more bitter than usual and his head ached and his stomach was upset enough that he didn't sleep as well as he hoped, even with keeping one eye open for bushwhackers. It was still bitter in the morning and he noticed the smell of almonds, but ignored it so he could gulp down three full cups in an effort to keep himself awake.

Still, despite the headache and starting to get cramps, he made significant progress. That is, until he reached the area five miles north of town where the trail wound between two hills and narrowed down almost to the point that two men on horseback couldn't pass each other. If he hadn't wanted to get home quickly, he would have taken a longer route that skirted that pass, but there was that nagging feeling that he'd had before he left that someone was watching him and Kitty. He just couldn't shake the fear that something might happen to her if he didn't get home even earlier than she was expecting him.

That's when it really hit him. He was having problems remaining in the saddle because his head was pounding and his stomach was cramping so much. Stopping to rest seemed a good idea. Still it was a lot of effort to climb out of the saddle so he simply sat where he was when a voice called out.

"I can help, mister. I know what's wrong with you. Just stay where you are until I get down there."

Matt, mostly because he was too sick to do anything else, waited for the rider behind the voice to catch up to him. He appeared to be a boy of about 16, but something was very familiar about him. Somehow he felt he'd met him before or had possibly met his kin. The boy grabbed Matt's reins and he let him lead him through the pass and then toward a stand of cottonwoods. Something was very familiar about the spot, but he couldn't wrap his brain around it, just like he couldn't figure where he'd met the youth before.

A house and barn appeared in front of him before they'd travelled much farther. It had the look of a place that had been neglected for a spell, but not for very long, and that time of neglect was now ended. He allowed the boy to help him off his horse and lead him inside toward a bedroom that was prepared for him, but how could that be? It must seem that way because he was so sick.

"Just you lie down on the bed. I'll help you get your boots and clothes off. I think I have what you need to make you feel better, but it won't be pleasant and the feeling better part will take some time."

His benefactor kept bringing water, milk and some sort of fruit juice mixture and telling him to drink it. Matt forced it down, but it wasn't easy. He seemed to be fighting himself and reckoned that's what was meant by it wouldn't be easy. It must have been laced with laudanum because the bitter taste he hated so much seeped through more as his cramps and headache receded. The last glass must have been mostly laudanum because he couldn't keep his eyes open. It was well after dark by then so it didn't matter so much that he wouldn't get home tonight. Fact is, he couldn't remember why getting home was important.

He awoke seemingly clearheaded to the sun shining brightly through the window. Kitty, Doc and Chester would be wondering where he was by now. Matt began to rise, shifting his body so he could shift his feet to the floor. A stabbing pain stopped him in his tracks. That's when he took careful stock of things. He was in a bed, but not one he recognized nor was it in a familiar room. The nightshirt he was wearing sure wasn't his because he never wore them. Then there was the splint on his leg. When and how did he break it? He had no idea.

Matt checked off what he did know. He'd been sick and some boy helped him and brought him to a bedroom. It most probably was this one. The lad had poured various liquids down his throat until he felt he'd float away but he no longer felt sick just very sleepy. That's all he remembered of what happened and he was sure when he first arrived at this house his leg wasn't broken, that is, if this was the same house and room. He remembered walking in under his own power with a little help from the boy to steady him. He couldn't have done that with a right leg as badly busted up as it now seemed to be. At least somebody had set and splinted it. They'd also left a pitcher of water and a glass within easy reach and a vase full of tiger lilies, but with very short stems and no leaves.

He was attempting to reach the water while causing minimal pain when the door opened and Rose Ellen Turner walked in. She went directly to the pitcher and poured a glassful for him.

"Welcome to our new home, Matt. I hope you like what little you can see of it. You were in such bad shape when you arrived it's amazing you made it to the house let alone into bed. I took over from there."

"Hold on there," Matt said between sips of what clearly wasn't water, like he'd thought, but strangely flavored lemonade. "I remember a boy and lots of liquid that made me feel better and then falling asleep."

"You were kinda out of your head. That was no boy, only me. We met up by accident in Hays. That's where you proposed. I went ahead to make arrangements to buy this place under my name so we could keep our future marriage secret, especially from your old girlfriend, Kitty Russell. She might react violently to her change of status. I expect after a time you'll explain things to her and she'll have to try and accept it that she's no longer a part of your life."

Things weren't adding up for Matt. He couldn't imagine forgetting proposing and if he did propose to anyone, it sure wouldn't be Rose Ellen Turner. He thought he'd made that clear to her back at her farm and again in Hays. It seems her version of their meeting and his was quite different. He remembered throwing her out of his hotel room and was quite sure, despite how sick he was, that he'd encountered a boy, but there was something very familiar about him.

Matt's head swirled. He was certain he had a fever. Why else would things be so confused? Rose Ellen's face kept turning into the boy's face and back again. In between, he saw and heard Doc and Kitty telling him it was all a fever dream. Kitty in particular kept telling him to beware of the boy/Rose Ellen's wiles. He felt a cold compress on his forehead and cool cloths being run up and down his body and thought it must be Kitty. Then he opened his eyes to the same bedroom he'd been in before and instead of Kitty tending to him it was Rose Ellen.

Suffering from fever as he was, Matt lost track of time. He decided if he was ever going to get back to his life he had to play along with this mad woman. Somehow, he told himself, she was causing his fever even if she didn't have anything to do with him being sick or breaking his leg to begin with. He'd never marry her, but at least he could begin to regain his strength if she thought he was succumbing to her tender care. Besides, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had to return to Dodge and Kitty sooner rather than later or something awful would happen.