The Witness
Chapter 9
"Blame"
As he usually did, Matt awoke well before Kitty. Often he would slip out of bed to get back to the jail by dawn, but not this morning. He wanted to savor the moment, her head resting on his shoulder and arm wrapped around his waist, sleeping peacefully. Instead of a cumbersome dress, she was wearing a comfortable nightgown that he had helped her into after Doc left. Doc had checked on her as promised and had given her one last dose of medicine, mostly as a precautionary measure. She had continued to improve throughout the evening, her heartbeat stronger and the dizziness and nausea subsiding, but he knew it wouldn't hurt to make sure the toxins were completely adsorbed. After examining her, looking as though he might have barely survived a serious illness himself, he went home for a much needed and well-deserved rest.
Despite Doc's assurances, Matt couldn't help but remain cautious in his optimism. He had woken up intermittently throughout the night, each time putting a hand on her face or stomach to check that she was warm and breathing. In his dreams she had been sick, crying, calling his name, wondering why he was letting her die. Her recovery from this traumatic incident might well take less time than his.
Lying in bed, beside his lover yet alone with his thoughts, he couldn't get Byron Krug and that damn trial out of his head. Had the helpful clerk actually given his note to Judge Moorehead? In it, he had apologized for leaving court so hastily and explained that he believed an innocent person's life was at stake due to Gordon Krug's statement. He didn't say who that person was—it shouldn't matter—and he hoped the judge would not hold it against him. Byron Krug would almost certainly be retried for murder, and his hapless brother-obviously just a puppet with his brother pulling the strings-was probably sitting in the cell next to him. He wondered if Hardy would take his case, or continue with Byron's for that matter.
The whole mess had left a bitter, putrid taste in his mouth. He had done everything by the book, and the results had been disastrous in ways he had never considered. Perhaps in all the unfairness that was the Byron Krug case, that was what bothered him the most—after spending four years worrying over every disturbing, sinister way that his job might put her in danger, someone had actually harmed her in a manner he had never considered. It made him wonder what else he might unwittingly overlook.
The rumble in his stomach made Matt realize that he had not eaten since his hotel breakfast yesterday. He figured he could get a bite at Delmonico's and be back before she woke up. Maybe he would bring back some toast and juice, Doc had said she could try light solids today if she was up to it. He gently unhooked her arm from around his waist and placed it on her stomach, then slowly slid off the side of the bed. She grabbed onto his pillow and pulled it to her, eyes still closed and seemingly unaware.
Matt quietly slipped into tan pants and a red shirt, the change of clothes he had brought back to her room last night. He crept to the door on his toes after the first step of his large boot echoed on the hardwood floor. He finally exited the room, satisfied that he had not disturbed her.
When he got to Delmonico's he was surprised to see Doc, sitting alone and drinking a cup of coffee. Considering the way he had looked last night, Matt figured he might sleep all day.
"You're up early," Matt observed, pulling out a chair and joining his friend.
"Well sir, I slept about seven hours straight and that's a lot for me. How is my patient this morning?"
"Still sleeping," he answered. "She had a restful night."
"That's good to hear. I just came from checking on Chester."
"He's going to be alright, isn't he Doc?" Matt asked, feeling slightly guilty that he had paid so much more attention to Kitty when Chester had suffered just the same.
"I believe so," Doc replied. "I told him the same thing I told Kitty, it's going to take some time to get your strength back, so take it easy and don't overdo it. Of course, I don't expect that to be nearly the problem for Chester that it will be for Kitty."
Matt chuckled. "I think you're a little tough on poor Chester."
"Oh, he knows I just like to give him a hard time. But I'm serious about Kitty, Matt. I'm counting on you to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't do too much too soon. Her body has been through a lot, and if she doesn't take care of herself she's not going to get better."
Matt's expression became somber. "Of course I'll look after her, Doc. After all, it's because of me that she got sick in the first place."
Doc set his cup down and sighed. "Well, I was waiting for that."
"For what?" he asked, though he had an idea.
"For you to blame yourself. Matt, this isn't your fault any more than it's mine. The only people responsible for this are the ones who carried out that ridiculous plan. There wasn't a thing in the world you could have done differently, and you know it."
Matt reluctantly nodded his agreement. "It's still hard, Doc. I keep thinking how much safer she would be if she wasn't with me."
"Then I suppose you should stop seeing her," Doc suggested sarcastically. "And fire Chester, and ban me from your office while you're at it. Do you know how many times I've stopped by and had a cup of coffee in the morning? That could have just as easily been me. What are you going to do Matt, live like a hermit on the off chance that something bad might happen to people?"
"Something bad did happen," he shot back. "This time it was intended for me. What if next time it's intended for her, and I can't stop it? I don't think I could live with myself."
Doc absentmindedly rubbed his cheek. "Well, I don't know what to tell you about that, but there's something I can tell you. Kitty is a grown woman, and a smart one at that. She's known the risks from the beginning and decided they were worth taking. It's her decision, and you have to respect that. Life is a risk, Matt. Look at my job—one bad diagnosis and I can kill somebody. Does that mean I should give up doctoring? I guess we could all just do as little as possible and not care about anybody, and maybe we won't make as many mistakes or get hurt. But that doesn't sound like much of a life to me."
There was a moment of silence as Matt chewed on his words. He hated it when Doc was right.
"And think about this," Doc added, almost as an afterthought. "I knew you before she came along, and by golly I like you a heck of a lot better now. Be advised that if you screw this up with her, I might not be able to stand you anymore." His tone was gruff and he scowled for effect.
Matt couldn't help but crack a smile. "Understood."
Satisfied that he had gotten through to him, Doc hailed the waiter. "Now let's get some breakfast."
TBC
