People stopped to stare as Doc Adams drove his buggy up Front Street. His face still streaked with blood, he was out in the cold in only his shirt sleeves; his clothes and hair were disheveled, and he seemed not to care. Several people shook their heads, wondering what had possessed him; others merely shrugged, figuring whatever it was, Doc Adams could handle it. He stopped at the livery, and grabbed his coat, jacket and bag as Moss came out to collect the buggy and horse.
"Doc? What the hell happened to you? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Moss. Give Popcorn some extra grain; it was a long night in the cold fer him."
"Everything go okay out at the Rogers' place?"
Doc looked down, his blue eyes tearing slightly. "I'm afraid not, Moss. Little Cory Rogers didn't make it."
"Aw Doc, that's an awful shame."
The doctor looked up into the comfort of Grimmick's soft eyes. "Yes, Moss, yes it is."
Grimmick watched as the despondent doctor slowly began walking toward his office, still carrying his jacket and coat instead of wearing them. Adams could feel the stableman's concerned eyes following him up the street, but he simply looked down and kept going, ignoring all of the looks the people of Dodge were sending his way. As Doc walked past the General Store, Matt was just coming out, but the old man didn't seem to notice his friend. But the marshal felt his stomach leap into his throat when he caught a glimpse of Doc's condition. Matt caught him from behind, gently touching his shirt sleeve.
"Doc...hold on a minute. What the hell happened to you?"
"Nothin'."
"Sure looks like somethin' to me. You're splattered with blood, and you're walking out here in your shirtsleeves."
Adams' angry voice was loud enough for the whole town to hear as he yelled at Dillon, "This is what a doctor looks like after he cuts a little boy's arm off."
Matt put a soothing hand on Doc's shoulder. "Calm down, Doc. Just take it easy." Realizing that people were staring, Dillon gently but quickly headed Doc toward his upstairs office. "Let's get you where it's warm and get you cleaned up, and then we'll talk about it."
Kitty turned when she heard the door, and stood dumbstruck at the sight.
"Doc?" Adams didn't respond, so Kitty looked at Dillon. "Matt? What happened?"
Matt pulled a chair by the stove, and gently put Adams in it. He looked up at Kitty, shrugging. "Far as I can tell things didn't go too well out at the Rogers place, and he drove all the way home in his shirtsleeves. He's as cold as a block of ice. I'm gonna stoke up the fire."
Kitty removed the bag and clothes from Doc's hands, and the hat from his head, while Matt filled the belly of the stove with kindling. Kitty soaked a towel in some warm water, and tenderly began to clean Doc's face. He said nothing, but accepted her fussing without shoving her away. She wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, then nodded to Matt, silently asking him to leave them alone. As Dillon quietly slipped out the door, she pulled up a chair next to Doc's and sat down.
"You're lookin' a little worse for the wear, handsome." He grunted at her use of the endearment, and she smiled, "You warmin' up a little?"
"I'm fine, Kitty, really."
"Doc, what happened out at the Rogers place?"
He sighed deeply. "It was gas gangrene, and it was too far along. I tried to save little Cory, but there just wasn't nothin' I could do." Kitty rubbed a comforting hand across his shoulders, and he continued, "The only choice was to take the arm and hope he'd survive. But he wasn't strong enough, and you know, I should've seen that." She brushed at the wind-blown curls on the back of his head with her fingers, and his voice grew more vulnerable. "I should have known better from experience, Kitty. I'm not a first-year doctor, or even a tenth-year one. I've been practicin' for close to thirty, and I should have known better."
"Doc, you did your best to save a little boy's life. Why are you beatin' yourself up about that?"
"I shouldn't have taken the limb. His last moments were absolute agony." He looked down at his hands, his voice growing quiet. "I'm just not sure anymore."
"What do you mean you're not sure?"
"I've lost my touch, Kitty. My hands were shakin' so bad, I'm lucky I was able to hold onto any of my instruments, much less do surgery."
She stood up, moved behind him, and reached under the blanket to gently massage his shoulders. "You're way overtired, Doc, you haven't eaten a darned thing in almost three days, and you're upset. Right now I'm gonna put you to bed, and after you've had a chance to rest, we'll talk about it, okay?"
He remained silent for a minute or so, letting her hands softly rub away the tension. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded calmer, "All right. Lemme just check on Lucy, and then I'll stretch out on the exam table and get some sleep." Her hands came to an abrupt stop, and sensing the dread, he turned to look in her eyes. There was little doubt when he looked into the sea of saddened blue. "Oh no. Oh, please, no." He stood, gripping her arms tightly. "What happened?"
"Shortly after you left, Lucy broke out with a bad fever. Matt, Festus and I did what we could, but it didn't help, the fever got worse and then she just stopped breathin'." The look on his face was not one Kitty had ever seen, and it scared her to the core. She gripped his forearms, not allowing him to move away from her. It wasn't your fault, Doc. Even if you'd been here, you couldn't have saved her."
He looked at her sharply. "We'll never know that for sure, will we..."
She met his biting timbre with some of her own, "You couldn't have been in two places at once, and you were tryin' to save a little boy's life."
"And instead, a husband has to bury the last of his family," he growled, "and a father his only child." He broke gently away from her, his voice soft, "Ed know yet?"
"Festus went out there this morning to tell him." Suddenly unsteady on his legs, Doc sank back down in the chair. Kitty stroked a hand down his cheek. "Please say something, Doc."
For a long moment he remained quiet, then his tortured pale eyes looked up into her crystal ones. "I think I need a little time alone, honey, if you wouldn't mind." The panic in her eyes wasn't lost on him; he gently took one of her hands in his as he stood back up. "Don't look so worried," he said as he squeezed the hand in his. "I just need some time to think..."
She swallowed hard, but knew she had to do as he asked. Kitty leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "If you need anything, Doc, you tell me. Even if you just don't want to be alone, you send for me."
His voice sounded with unusual tenderness, "Don't worry, baby."
But she was worried; however, there was no choice but to do as he asked. He held the door for her and after taking one last concerned look at him, she walked down the stairs, and went as quickly as she could over to Matt's office.
