K H 9
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Never in Hoyt's whole existence had he been so stunned, and felt so helpless, as he did when he dropped the man in his hands and rushed over to Kitty. Gently as he could, he rolled her onto her back and saw the spreading stain of red on her chest and side. The bullet had torn a large hole in her upper right side and her life's blood was running out rapidly.
"Miss Kitty?" He mournfully called her name. Kitty didn't respond. She couldn't respond. She had lost her battle for consciousness. Hoyt studied her small, bloodied form for a moment, grateful he could still see the slight rise and fall of her chest but uncertain as to what to do.
She was hurt bad and she needed help. But he didn't trust those people in town. The lawman, the little fella that tagged along behind him, as well as her bartender, had all failed her when she needed them. One of them should've been with her. One of them should've walked with her.
But they hadn't.
Ruefully, he realized he almost hadn't. If he hadn't of seen her walking down this way, she might not've had anyone to try and save her. Shaking his head, he realized she still might not. Not if he didn't get her someplace safe, anyway.
Looking around, Hoyt decided that he'd take her to the shack he'd found yesterday while out roaming around. She could rest there and he could maybe put a bandage on her wound or something. He certainly couldn't leave her there and he wasn't taking her back to the people who'd abandoned her. Picking her up, he turned and headed to the west end of town.
"Don't you worry none, Miss Kitty." He told the unconscious woman in his arms. "I'll keep ya safe."
Back in town, Doc steered his buggy down Front Street and parked in front of the Long Branch. His calls hadn't taken near the amount of time he thought and he decided to spare Kitty the trip to the Singleton's and make it himself. Hopping out, he stepped into the saloon and headed to the bar. "Sam? Kitty around?"
Sam shook his head. "No, Doc, sorry. She left about an hour or so ago to walk down to the Singleton's, like you asked her to."
Doc took an irritated scrub of his mustache, wishing he could've gotten back sooner so she wouldn't have had to walk out there. Although the Singleton's only lived about a mile from the Long Branch, it was a warm day and Doc felt guilty of putting her to the trouble. "Well," he tugged at an ear. "It's my fault she had to go out that far, I guess I'll go on and see if I can give her a ride back. See ya later, Sam." He tipped his hat and turned for the door.
"Bye, Doc." Sam returned; grateful Miss Kitty wouldn't have to walk back in the heat.
Quickly as he could, Doc hurried into his buggy and steered it around, heading south. He was almost there, when he spotted a man lying on the ground by the roadside.
"Whoa." He pulled his horse to a stop and hastily got out. 'Mister?" Doc knelt down beside the man and turned him over but he could tell, without too much examination, the man was dead. Beaten to death, it looked like. Doc glanced around him for any clue as to who the man was or what had happened, when suddenly, his heart stilled and a soft gasp left his lips.
Lying just under a nearby tree, were three items that sent a cold wave of terror through him. An almost empty bottle of whiskey, a parasol, like the one Kitty usually carried on days like today, and a reticule, also like Kitty's. Swallowing hard, Doc picked up the reticule with shaky hands and carefully opened it.
He found a few dollars and a derringer and a broach.
The same broach, Doc had seen Kitty wear many times until the catch broke last week and she'd placed it in her handbag until she could get it repaired. On the ground, near where the purse and parasol rested, was a large patch of red sticky fluid. Doc recognized it as blood and looking back at the dead man, he was sure it wasn't his.
Doc stood quickly and searched the area around him. Nothing. No sign of Kitty, although there were foot prints of a large man heading west.
Temporarily forgetting the dead man, Doc ran back to his buggy and hurriedly climbed in and turned it around. He had to find Matt.
Now.
(*(*(*(*(*)*)*)*)*)
Kitty came to in a world of misery, a solid presence at her side. Wherever she was, it was dark and her unfocused eyes could see little but the large form beside her. "Matt?" She whispered, assuming it was he who sat keeping guard over her.
"Ssshh. Miss Kitty." A deep voice, not belonging to Matt, answered. "Ya been hurt. But ya ain't gonna be hurt no more. You just lay there real quiet like and it'll be alright."
"Hoyt?" Kitty recognized the voice but couldn't understand why he was there and not Matt.
"Yes'm." Came the reply.
"Where's… Matt?" She managed. "Doc?"
"They ain't here." A hard edge lined his voice and hurt as she was, Kitty heard it.
"Why?" She asked. "Hoyt…" She tried to rise but a sharp pain creased her side and she gasped lying back instantly. "Please…" She tried but the effort was too much and the darkness reclaimed her.
"Don't you worry." Hoyt said softly. "They won't get ya."
TBC
