Whatever it Takes
Chapter 14
Doc Adams and Kitty Russell shared a quick laugh over the exploded gift from Matt she wore around her neck before the old doctor got down to the business of locating the source of the blood on the woman's corset. A broken whalebone stay, the old man surmised, must have occurred when a bullet hit the tiny metal flask. It seems her life was saved by a combination of the gift, the bone stay and the distance of the shooter, but he was still displeased.
"What was that galoot thinking; throwing you over his shoulder like a sack o'potatoes?" Adams was beginning to fume at the thought of the damage a maneuver like that could have done. "That's probably when that stay finally gave out." The old doctor blinked his eyes hard; shaking his head as if to dislodge the images of a worse case scenario. Kitty knew she had to pacify her dear friend quickly.
"Doc...?" The guarded tone in her voice went unheard; the old man being too wrapped up with being angry. "Listen to me, I told him to carry me that way. It's my fault not his." Kitty heard him grumble admission of his misjudgment. "Don't be so hard on him Curly," admonishing him gently, "he tried to carry me in a more civilized manner, but his knees gave out." The twinkle in her sapphire eyes turned to fire as Doc Adams began to cut the corset open, Kitty barked her disapproval. "Aw Doc, did ya have to cut that? I just got that in from New York City in December," she said in annoyance.
She gave out a yelp as the physician cleansed her wound. "I'm sorry honey," Doc gently responded, "but I have to make sure this is clean, because your gonna need a couple stitches." He patted her arm comfortingly; a touch of solace in his voice. "I'll fix you up and maybe Lucian knows someone that can fix this fancy contraption you women call a corset."
In short time Kitty slipped into a relaxed state; having consumed the glass of water mixed with one of Doc's powders.
Outside, Matt stared at the thin man with the fashionable facial hair. Giving Dillon a thoughtful look, the man proceeded with his prattle.
"You've hardly changed a bit, pard." He strutted around the Dodge City marshal and chortled with amusement, "I guess I look the odd stick to you. It's been over twenty years since we seen each other, but I'd recognize you from near a mile away; a bit heavier than the old days." He smiled broadly. "Bet'cha can't out run a pooch now!" His grin and cluck-like laugh was immediately identified by Matt.
"Radburn Lee, you old scape-grace!" Matt's crystal blue eyes flickered brightly; his mind and spirit sailed back to his youth. "By golly, you're one I never would have expected to see in Louisiana." He grunted a self satisfied laugh. "Look at all those whiskers! I suspected you'd to stay freckled and smooth your whole life, Rad!"
Lee pushed back his vest, to reveal a sheriff badge as he plunged his freckled hands into his pockets. "I was worried about that m'self, but it seems marriage and facial hair came upon me at about the same time." The men partook in zealous handshaking and shoulder slapping until Matt winced and his old buddy noticed blood.
Matt laughed and groaned at the same time. "Aw gee, it's just a graze, "he stated without thought. "You, a sheriff and married? Today is just packed with surprises! Is it safe for me to assume that you are the parish sheriff?"
"Yup, that I am; sheriff, husband and the father of four daughters t'boot!" He said with pride that turned to concern. "Are you okay , pard? Do we need ta get ya to a doctor?"
Standing to his full height, the big marshal gritted his teeth and pointed towards the inside of the cottage. "Naw, Doc's in there with Kitty. He'll check me out when he is finished with her, besides, I was only creased."
"Kitty?" His old cohort asked discreetly, as he played with is mustache. "Right, that saloon owner from New Orleans, how ya know her, Matt?"
It had been such a long time since Dillon had seen Radburn Lee. People change, Matt worried to himself. Could this friend from Matt's youth be trusted? The US marshal stared off distantly, his mind bothered by the situation.
Lee's voice seemed to drop an octave. "Oh, now I remember," his tone solemn, "she's your woman from Dodge... the Long Branch... the one that Jude Bonner kidnapped. What's she..." The sheriff never finished his sentence; the cold stare of Matt Dillon cut through him.
"How'd you know all that, Rad?" Matt's tone was hard and official. His hand mindlessly curled into fists which the other man noticed.
Smiling uncomfortably Radburn Lee responded. "Umm...well, I been keepin' up with your career, Matt. Hell, not all my pards from the old days became US marshals, an' you, with a mighty tall reputation most everywhere ta boot!"
Matt was taken aback by his old buddy following his career. He ran his hand through his mop of brown and silver hair hoping to hide the embarrassment.
"It's okay, old friend." Lee declared, "I was pretty surprised to see you, too. Well, I'm still kind' dumbfounded. Lucian never mentioned any names, though I did know about the lady being brought here from the city. How is she? All I know is that she's been blind and dumb since whatever happened at that saloon. Am I right?"
Matt calculated that if Lee was working for The Black Hand, he'd know that Kitty was able to speak. "How much do you know about what happened to Kitty?"
Rad looked at Matt hard; raised a bushy eyebrow and replied, "How much I was allowed to know, or what I figured happened?" With that statement, Dillon realized that his old pal might be trustworthy.
Matt started to pull Lee aside when two of his deputies showed up. The sheriff stopped abruptly asking Matt if he knew the shooter.
"I have no idea," the normally honest lawman bent the truth, "and Kitty doesn't know either since she can't see." He said it with conviction and loud enough for the deputies to hear.
Rad nodded his head towards the entry to the guest house, right after he told one of the deputies to go fetch the local mortician. The sheriff and his other deputy inspected the common room where the body of Tilly lay; his feet against the door to Matt's room which was now closed.
"Get him outta here," Sheriff Lee commanded. "Just roll's up in that rug an' take him the hell outside. I think this man needs to sit down," referring to Matt, "and have a talk, so why don't ya wait out there for Jeb and the undertaker." The sheriff addressed his deputy. Once the deputy was out of earshot, Rad looked at Matt. He spoke firmly in a hushed tone; his chestnut eyes squinted. "You know who that man is, don't ya Matt?"
Matt gritted his teeth; growling quietly, "If I find out you have anything to do with Charlie Mantranga... so help me Rad, I'll kill you with my bare hands."
His old partner sighed in initial response. "Hell no, though I know I'd be makin' more money workin' in New Orleans...but their money is all blood money. That's why I'm here in Covington. Well actually m'wife Susu is from Mandeville and we were gonna settle in New Orleans..."
Rad was living up to his old nickname Rambling Red; Matt had to chuckle to himself before interrupting. "Yeah Rad, I know know who that man is. Was I that obvious?"
"To them?" The ruddy haired sheriff said referring to the deputies. "Those two can be kind light upstairs, but they take direction and handle a gun well, so not a chance, pard, but some things just don't change. You are still pretty lame when it comes ta turnin' the truth."
Once Matt explained what actually happened to Kitty, the two men sat exchanging theories. Matt also recounted his experiences in New Orleans and was surprised that Rambling Red sat and listened intently absorbing all the information.
After a time, the door to Matt's room swung open; Doc Adam's sliding gait could be heard entering the room where the lawmen were talking.
"Ah Matt, there you are." The old physician exclaimed finding the men seated behind the door initially out of view. The younger men stood as Matt introduced his long lost friend to the Dodge City doctor.
"Doc, I'd like you to meet Radburn Lee; an old friend of mine from my days back in Texas. He's the parish sheriff," Dillon relayed proudly; slapping his old buddy on the back. "Rad, this is Doctor Galen Adams from Dodge City."
Lee threw his head back and laughed; clucking at his friend, "It's just like you ta bring a sawbones with ya, what with all the scrapes you get into!"
"Bring... is that what he told you?" Doc fussed in his usual manner as he pressed his eyes shut and rubbed the lower part of his face. "Bring!" He threw the word once more at the marshal this time. "And if you think this over grow boy just gets into scrapes..." The wiry haired old doctor stopped his rant short, "How do you do, sheriff, but let me tell you... I've put more stitches into this man than half the women in Kansas have put into quilts!"
"I'm just teasin' ol' Dog Bait here." Lee thrust his freckled hand out to Adams, "It's a pleasure ta meet ya, doctor. I'm guessin' you're really the one tryin' to keep ol Matt in line."
Doc looked at Matt speaking in exasperation, "Trying would definitely be a word I'd use." After a moment of mutual laughing, the old man chimed, "Dog Bait? Is that what you just called him?" Adams laughed to himself; pulling his earlobe which gave Matt just enough time to change the subject.
"How's she doing, Doc?" Can I go in and see her?" Doc recognized the longing in Matt's eyes. He saw the same pained sky blue eyes on the train to New Orleans.
"Kitty's asleep, Matt. She needed a couple stitches, but she'll be fine. Why don't I take a look at your arm." Adams started to put his spectacles on at the same time the worried marshal began to argue, but never got more than three words out of his mouth.
Doc rolled over Matt's argument, "...Right after you go in and check on Kitty, because there's no use in bickering with an injured man that says he's fine."
A soft lopsided grin sprouted on the handsome sun weathered face of Marshal Dillon. "Thanks Doc," talking as he opened the door to his room, "and I really do feel okay."
Matt groaned when he heard Doc inquire dramatically, "So Rad, how exactly was Matt Dillon awarded the fine nickname Dog Bait?"
The embarrassment of his youth was quickly shut out upon closing the door. It was easily forgotten as his bright azure eyes locked on the sleeping form in his bed. Kitty was enveloped in a light coverlet pulled to her neck. The tall man crept silently to the bedside. The minor tap of a wooden chair being moved closer to the bed caused the injured redhead to move slightly asking for Doc. That movement revealed a creamy shoulder dusted vividly with freckles as the thin bed spread shifted. He wasn't precisely sure if the flush he felt was that of lust or self-consciousness, but when he whispered her name he was rewarded with a sleepy smile.
"Cowboy," her speech was slightly slurred, "where's Doc?"
Before speaking, he leaned over and kissed her shoulder three times. "He's in the other room talking to the local sheriff." The big man then placed three more kisses on her shoulder then replaced the coverlet over where his lips had just been.
When she murmured his name, the marshal couldn't decipher if her tone reflected pain or pleasure so his response was gripped with urgency.
"I'm here honey. Can I get you something? Do you need me to get Doc?"
"Mmmmatt... I'm sorry... I'm sorry I'm taking up your bed like this."
She could feel his warm breath close to her cheek. "Well that's just fine, Miss Russell. I finally get you into my bed after twenty years and you say you're sorry."
"Oh Mmmatt..." She started to giggled realizing he'd heard what she had said earlier, but winced in pain; pursing her lips. "You know... wha..d I mean...cowboy."
"Yeah honey, I do." Brushing the stray lustrous red ribbons of hair from her forehead, Matt's lips danced delicately from temple to temple.
"Matt..., " Kitty mumbled groggily, "whad... ya doin'?"
"Shhhh," he confided humbly before kissing the tip of her nose, "I'm kissing your freckles."
Once again he was rewarded with a bright smile; this time less weak and was accompanied by a sigh as the redhead slipped back into a healing sleep. Matt quietly made his way to the door, stopping momentarily to gaze at his sleeping paramour. He reflected on their future; silently vowing not to let her go her this time.
Doc and Rad stopped their chatter as the tall lawman closed the door behind him. Exhaustion played heavily on the big man's features which concerned Doc Adams.
"There... ya happy?" The gray haired man chided cynically, "Satisfied with the conversation you had with a drugged and injured woman? I told you she would be okay."
Matt smiled charmingly; replaying the last few minutes with Kitty in his mind. The look did not go unnoticed by either of his friends. Rad took to chuckling while Doc began to bluster.
The old physician squinted his eyes and shook his head. "For the love of Pete, tell me you didn't encourage her to do something foolish." He wagged his finger continuing the admonishment, "If I have to re-stitch her on account of..."
"Whoa there Doc," Matt halted his friend's rant, "you said she was sleeping and she pretty much was. By golly, just because she's in my bed..." He stopped abruptly as shades of red coursed across his masculine face.
The old sawbones pulled his earlobe while beginning to titter which rolled into full fledged laughter as Sheriff Lee and the fatigued Marshal Dillon joined in. Adams prompted Matt to take a seat so he could tend the lawman's wound. While he worked, Doc explained how lucky Kitty was.
"It seems that trinket you gave Kitty deflected a bullet, Matt. Of course, tossing her over your shoulder like a sack of flour didn't really help." The big man tried to interrupt to explain, but Doc talked right over him. "Kitty told me what happened, so you can relax. Well, for a change Marshal Dillon, this doesn't look to bad." The insightful doctor clarified, "You are alright; just a flesh wound indeed. And the injury Kitty endured was from the piece of equipment women tend to wear." Matt looked at Doc questioningly. The old man cleared his throat and mumbled, "Her corset... it helped deflect the bullet but cracked. I'm guessing it totally broke when she was over your shoulder, but that stinky little bottle you put around her neck is what really saved her. I don't know what possessed you to buy that for her." Adams took off his glasses; rubbing the back of his neck. "The stopper gave her quite a bruise, ya know. What was that thing filled with, because both of you are covered with it!"
Matt really wasn't in the mood to explain his brief superstitious moment or the fact that the silver object was given to him by a voodoo soothsayer and fruit vendor. In truth, he wasn't sure he'd ever be in the mood for that. Rad circumvented the Dodge City marshal's ill mood.
"Okay..."the sheriff chirped; his big auburn mustache bouncing, "now I understand why you smell like nickel night at Mahogany Dance Hall."
When the merriment ceased, Rad asked if he could talk to Kitty at some point. Doc responded immediately; Matt stared at his friend dumbstruck.
"Not until tomorrow," the physician spoke firmly, "she needs her rest."
The sheriff agreed as Matt found his voice. "Why do you need to talk with her? You already know what happened." His mood hovered between anger and fear that his old friend might betray him.
Ol' Ramblin' Red had seen Matt Dillon wear that face before and knew he needed to ease his friend's conscience. He asked Doc if he could speak to his old buddy alone. The venerable doctor took his cue with haste as he shuffled out the front door for some fresh air; over hearing Rad ask Matt an odd but amusing question.
"What are you afraid of, pard? She doesn't have a mustache like Georgann Atwood, does she?"
Chuckling to himself, Doc Adams nearly walked into Doctor Merrill. Lucian stood behind him still wide eyed with shock.
"How is Miss Russell, Galen? Should I have someone bring over a stretcher for her or would a wheelchair suffice?"
Doc gazed back at the entrance to the cottage before answering. "Kitty's doing fine Marcellus, just fine. She needed a few stitches and is resting comfortably." The old physician looked at his younger counterpart sternly. "She'll remain here for the time being." Adams then addressed Lucian. "Would you be so kind as to have a nurse or aid bring over some sleepwear for Miss Russell and help her change? It doesn't have to happen immediately since she's asleep in Mr. Dillon's bed."
Doctor Merrill huffed, "This highly irregular, Galen and quite inappropriate that Miss. Russell sleep in Mr. Dillon's bed. She would get better care and attention back in her own room."
Doc Adams rubbed his face weighing how to present his theory on what the redhead needed. He almost had to laugh at the look on Doctor Merrill's face which for a brief moment resembled Edsel Pry in one of her moods. He patted Merrill on the back in a fatherly fashion and suggested they walk for a spell.
"Marcellus, propriety aside, I've known these two people for near half their lives." He tugged on his earlobe and stared at the grass hoping to be as diplomatic as possible. The two doctors crossed away from the guest house, but before Doc Adams could find the right words Doctor Merrill continued to voice his opposition.
"This is a facility of health not a bordello." His clipped speech was matched his quick steps as he moved ahead of the older doctor. "I'm sure Miss. Russell's benefactor would be displeased."
"Her benefactor!" Doc yelped as if he'd been burned. "As far as I know, Miss Russell is quite capable financially to take care of herself." This time old Doc Adams was the one to sound offended. "Who in thunder is this benefactor?"