Dark Reflection

Chapter 27

"Repercussions"

by Lilyjack

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Matt Dillon observed wordlessly from the doorway of the wine cellar as Chester slipped past him, brown eyes beaming with sheer relief and utter joy. Loping in on quiet feet, a packed bag in one hand, his hat in the other, Chester approached Doc sitting tiredly in a ladder back chair in the corner. Doc squinted through his spectacles at an old newspaper that Charlie had thoughtfully brought down from upstairs.

Leaning close, Chester whispered, "How's she a' doin', Doc?"

"Much better now, Chester," Doc murmured, quietly folding his paper and placing it on the little table. He nodded his head toward the motionless form buried beneath the covers of the small bed. "But I imagine she'll be sleepin' for quite a while longer."

The tall, wiry man's expression dampened. "But she's gonna be alright, ain't she?"

"Yes, I believe so. The immediate danger has passed. Earlier though… Well, to tell you the truth, I wasn't sure if she was gonna make it." Features somber, Doc removed his spectacles. "You were right, Chester. Blackthorne had given her too much of that stuff. It was poisoning her."

Chester nodded, his mouth turning down at the corners. He struggled to speak, "I… I just wanna thank ya' fer what you done fer her, Doc. I don't know what I woulda done if…" The young man's voice hitched, and he ducked his head self-consciously.

Doc replied comfortingly, "I understand, Chester. She's a special young lady, that's for sure. She's made it successfully through a mighty rough patch, but, Chester, she still..."

"Oh, Doc, that's awful good t' hear," Chester happily enthused. He hastily swiped his shirtsleeve beneath an eye, claiming, "You just don't know how hard it was not bein' able t' come over here to be with her right away."

Matt gingerly poked a hand in one pocket as he gripped his cane tightly—after the exertions of the late-night rescue, he'd reverted to using it again. He wearily leaned a shoulder on the doorframe while breathing in as deeply as his injured ribs would permit. Then he softly offered, "Well, they knew…you were her friend, Chester. What if they suspected you…and followed you here?"

"I know, I know, Mister Dillon. But it was still awful hard t' stay away. We ain't been apart since I don't know when." Chester looked dejected. "I didn't know how she was a'doin or nothin'." He scuffed a boot on the dirt floor. "It was just hard is all."

Matt's stomach was feeling knotted again at all this talk from Chester. In his head, Matt knew that things here in this strange Dodge City were different, but could they be so different that Kitty didn't have room in her heart for him? That Matt's loyal companion and friend Chester Goode was occupying that place instead?

All three men looked down at the small cot when the covers suddenly shifted and a grumbling moan emerged from beneath.

Doc rolled his eyes. "Uh-oh, you two have gone and done it now."

Matt's brows raised along with his croaky voice, "Us two?"

Doc rejoined, "That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. You've wakened the beast."

Chester nodded, curling a lip and agreeing, "Oh, no…yer right, Doc. She don't like bein' woke up in the mornin's none a'tall."

Matt's brows rose even higher with that apparently telling remark from Chester. Matt watched as Chester sidled up to the bed, patted around on the amorphous blanket for a safe spot to sit, and dropped the bag on the floor beside him. He offered to the covers, "I brought you some clothes and things from yer room."

A growing sense of unease in Matt's head, a terrible cold cloud of dread in his chest was forming with the idea that Kitty and Chester could possibly be more than just generous employer and devoted employee, even more than just dear friends… How could he have been so blind and deaf to what was before his very eyes? He felt as if he'd been sucker punched in the gut.

Matt stepped unsteadily backwards out of the doorway feeling light-headed, his temples pounding a steady beat. He leaned back on the opposite wall in the shadows where he could rest his leg and quietly watch and listen.

Chester tentatively touched the biggest lump in the bed and softly jiggled it. He cajoled, "Anybody in there?"

The blanket shifted again as its occupant slowly drew it away to reveal an ashen complexion. Dark smudges underlined blue eyes that appeared too large for her gaunt face. But her expression was beatific as she recognized her old friend. "Chester!" she hoarsely exclaimed, eagerly reaching out to him.

Matt's heart sank as Chester gathered her into his arms and held her closely, murmuring so quietly Matt couldn't make out what they were saying to each other.

Kitty's arms should have been wrapped around his own neck, her tears staining his shirt, he lamented. He tried to tell himself that this Kitty didn't know him, but he just couldn't get that idea through his head. He had somehow believed that even though all the other citizens of Dodge had not recognized him, somehow Kitty Russell would. His fantasies were crashing down around him.

Then Doc suddenly stood and shuffled through the door toward Matt, placing a gentle but firm hand on his arm and pulling him aside to sit on the steep, dark stairway leading to the upper levels of Botkin's house.

"Have a seat, Matt. You're lookin' mighty pale. I'd like to speak with you for a moment, young man."

Matt gripped the stair rail and groaned a little as he stiffly sat. He murmured, "What about, Doc?" It was hard to pretend to be interested in what Doc was saying when his ears were straining to hear what was going on in the nearby room.

Doc was wearing only work shirt sleeves rolled up nearly to his elbows and his borrowed denim trousers, the jacket and vest long since abandoned during the many hours tending to his very sick patient. Bracing his forearms on his knees, he clasped his hands and looked over at Matt soberly. The physician kept his voice low so they couldn't be overheard. "What I said to Chester in there about the immediate danger bein' past, that was true. But Miss Russell is not out of the woods yet, son."

Matt's ears finally perked up and his gaze focused on the older man. "Whatta you mean, Doc?"

"I mean that I'm afraid she's going to have a long, tough time ahead of her when her body will react badly to not having those awful drugs Blackthorne has been administering to her in high doses. She'll be very sick again, and soon."

"What?" Matt's one-eyed gaze was wide and disbelieving. "But, Doc, I thought…"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but surviving the overdose is only the first part of her recovery. If she's been ingesting it for as long as I think she has, now she's probably gonna suffer through some terrible symptoms in order to quit this poison for good.

Matt's eyebrows beetled and his voice rose a notch. "What kinda symptoms? How long…will it last, Doc?"

"Well, it's hard to say how long…two or three weeks, could be more, could be less. She may be extremely agitated…anxious…she could experience chills, shaking, violent muscle spasms, vomiting…" Doc tugged at his ear as he observed the younger man's troubled expression. "Everyone is different."

"But…" Matt jerked a thumb toward other room and protested, "…she seems fine right now."

"We really don't understand exactly how it works. During the war we called it the "soldier's disease" because so many sick and injured young men ended up with a mighty powerful craving for their pain-killing drugs." He ran his fingers through his mop of wiry, silver gray hair. "I've seen some who have been so consumed by the drug that their life was taken over by it." He shook his head. "It seems as if the body craves the drug to such an extent that it simply cannot function without it."

"I've…" Matt looked thunderstruck. "I've seen injured soldiers I fought alongside come back to duty…with that glassy stare Kitty gave me…at the Long Branch, but I've…never seen for myself those symptoms—chills and fits and vomiting. Can't we… Can't we help her, Doc?"

"Matt, I've seen some patients who decided to take their lives back through determination and plenty of help from family and friends. So I reckon…" He sighed. "Well, you should just be with her, son. Stay by her side just like you did last night. There's not a whole lot we can do although I do have some medications I can administer to help lessen some of the worst symptoms. The patients I watched go through this before…a few would win and, sadly, some wouldn't. All we can do is watch her carefully and try to support our patient."

"Just sit by and…watch, Doc? That sounds awful. I can't just…" He broke off, scrubbed a frustrated hand over his lower jaw which was stubbled with more than a day's growth of shadowy beard. He was feeling sick, physically ill. The whirlwind of activity the past couple of days had taken a lot more out of him than he'd thought at first.

Doc explained, "Well, sometimes it's possible to wean the patient off the drug by using smaller and smaller doses which does lessen the violence of the symptoms. But that can take an awful long time, and there's always the likelihood that the craving becomes so bad that the smaller doses won't work. A second method is to just entirely cut off the patient from the drug. It's harsh, but in my experience more often successful if the patient - and the physician - can tolerate it. It's a very serious condition. I wish there was a panacea, son, but there just isn't. But, Matt…" He rubbed his gray mustache thoughtfully. "…it worries me that, in her weakened condition… I just don't know how well she'll respond, to tell you the truth. It's very risky, however we go about it."

Matt swallowed hard, staring at the floor. He couldn't speak. Doc's voice droned on in the background as his mind whirled. Had she made it this far to perhaps die anyway? It was unthinkable.

"…I'll need to get a few more things from my office. Perhaps chloral hydrate, definitely sodium bromide and potassium bromide. Those might help with the symptoms.

Matt finally found his tongue, took a shallow breath. "Doc, I'll do anything I can…to help."

"I know you will, Matt. I know you'll do anything to help this young lady." The old physician gave a firm nod. "She'll do better with a lot of support. I think she's got that around here in spades."

Doc's hand scrubbed his sandpaper-whiskered lower jaw, then continued softly, "Hey, that uh, that young feller Chester is mighty close to Kitty, isn't he?"

Matt pressed his lips together, looked to the ceiling and replied flatly, "Yeah. Apparently so."

"Yep, they seem to be mighty close."

"I'd rather not…discuss it right now, if you don't mind." Matt realized he was perspiring. "Can we talk about…something else?"

Doc ruminated, observing Matt's reaction, then remarked, "Kitty Russell is really something, isn't she?"

"She is, Doc." He swiped a sleeve over his sweaty forehead.

"I mean, when she was finally coherent and had rested a bit, I had a little talk with her while everyone else was asleep—the same talk I just had with you about how going without the drug was going to make her sick all over again."

"What'd she say, Doc?"

"She said she already knew a little of what was in store for her. She'd already experienced unpleasant symptoms when Blackthorne would be late with his dose. When I asked her was she ready for this, she said…" Doc faltered, blinked, rubbed a hand over his mouth. "She said, 'What choice do I have, Doc?' Just like that. No hesitation."

Matt voice was but a whisper, "Her symptoms were pretty bad then?"

"Pretty bad, Matt. But she says she's prepared to do anything she has to in order to quit the stuff forever. Blackthorne's been forcing it down her throat for quite some time now. It will be hard for her to do without." He placed a hand on Matt's arm and pinned him with his gaze. "But she's a tough little lady. You can bet your money on that."

"Yes, she is, Doc."

Doc patted his shoulder and stood up. "Well, I'm goin' upstairs to see about gettin' somethin' to eat. I think we could all do with some supper."

"Thanks, Doc." Matt earnestly looked up with his one clear blue eye contrasted against the dark patch on the other. "For everything."

"Anytime, son." The physician grabbed the handrail and began heading up the steps in search of sustenance. "And by the time I get back downstairs, I want you resting. In bed. I'll see Charlie about gettin' you another bunk…" Doc's voice trailed off as he walked.

Matt was scrubbing his exhausted features with both hands, gingerly sliding his fingers below the eyepatch to rub his itchy, irritated, throbbing skin when Chester emerged from the doorway. The wiry man limped over, grinning from ear to ear, reaching out a hand to vigorously shake Matt's. "I just cain't thank you enough, Mr. Mathi…I mean, Mr. Dillon, for all you done t' help us out."

"I, uh…I was happy to help out, Chester."

"I'll swan to goodness, she was in such an awful fix, and I was about ready t' give up hope of ever gettin' her outta there, till I laid eyes on you that day in the Long Branch. And I thought to myself, I thought, that there's a man who kin get things done." Chester beamed. "And I sure was right about that, wasn't I, Mr. Dillon?"

Matt gazed at the soft gleam in the young man's dark eyes and his elated expression, and Matt couldn't help but smile in spite of the uncertainty he was feeling about Chester in regards to Kitty. Chester obviously cared for her deeply, and Matt couldn't fault him for that. Chester had also gone to great lengths to help her during her difficult time, and for that Matt was truly grateful.

"Mr. Dillon…" Chester sidled closer with a quick hitch-step and planted himself on the stairway alongside Matt. Chester's expression suddenly sobered, his eyes darting cautiously toward the room where Kitty had quickly drifted again into a deep, exhausted slumber. Pitching his voice lower, he reached to rub the back of his neck in consternation. "It sure was a sight to see when that…" Chester's face clouded as he spat out the words, "… that black-hearted villain figgered out that Miss Kitty was gone."

Matt nodded earnestly. He had heard secondhand rumors from Deke and the boys after they'd ventured back out into Dodge, returning to their normal schedules so as not to cast suspicion upon themselves. Matt murmured, "I'm glad…he didn't come after you, Chester. You took…an awful risk staying behind. I'm guessin' Blackthorne was aware of your…" Matt's throat tightened as he chose his next words carefully, "…relationship…with Miss Kitty."

"Well I was careful to steer plumb clear of the man. I purty much stayed in the shadows, I guess you might say, so maybe he wouldn't think to come after me like he did that Dangler feller."

"So the drugs Bill Pence… slipped in Dangler's beer worked, I'm assuming."

"Mr. Dillon, yer not gonna believe this, but that man drank and drank and drank, but he still managed to keep a'goin! Beat all I ever seen. He was loaded all right, but he didn't pass out like any normal feller would've."

"Well, what'd you do, Chester? How'd you…manage to move around upstairs without suspicion?"

Chester's complexion colored clear up to the tips of his ears as he mumbled his reply. "Miss Ruby helped me out considerable."

"Miss Ruby? She the girl I…saw that night in the window upstairs? Are you sure…she's trustworthy? She won't…betray us to Blackthorne? "

"Oh, I'm for certain. She seems to have taken a likin' to Miss Kitty and wanted to help out. Ruby'd been lettin' Miss Kitty hide in her room while she slept in Miss Kitty's bed so's Blackthorne would leave Miss Kitty alone."

Matt's expression darkened at the mention of Blackthorne anywhere near Kitty. He managed to bite out, "Then I'm…grateful to her."

"Yessir, I am, too, cause…" Chester choked on his last word and simply shook his head, eyes tearing up.

Matt reassured him, "Kitty's safe now, Chester, and I'm mighty grateful to you, too, for all you've done for her."

Chester just nodded, crossing his arms tightly. He finally strangled out, "I reckon Earl Dangler didn't fare so well though."

"Yeah?"

"Mr. Dillon, Blackthorne flew into a rage when he came in the Long Branch that night. I ain't never seen anything like it. Made my hair stand on end, to tell ya' the honest truth."

Matt listened intently, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his side.

"One a' his henchmen musta' got suspicious and sent for him, cause next thing I knowed, they was a'beatin' on our door somethin' fierce. Miss Ruby, well, real quick she ripped m' shirt open…"

Matt could see Chester's face turning beet red even in the dim light of the basement stairwell.

"…messed up my hair and shoved me into the middle of the bed. She slipped off her dress quick as a wink and threw it in the floor and swung that door back wearin' nothin' but her unmentionables." Chester was staring intently at the floor, unable to look Matt in the eye.

"You don't say… That Ruby is a fast thinker."

"Yessir, you might say that. Cause those boys at the door, they didn't know what t' make of things. Ruby commenced to fussin' at them about interruptin' her business…" Chester stopped to rub a hand on his forehead and blow out a big breath.

"So that's why Blackthorne didn't come after you?"

"Yessir, I believe so, not yet anyways."

"Well you continue…to keep out… of his sight. Come back here…if he acts…like he suspects you." It was becoming harder for Matt to breathe.

"I'll do that, sir. I've been sorta walkin' on eggshells 'round town, keepin' my eyes and ears open."

"That's just what…we need you to do…Chester. Blackthorne's…a dangerous man, and we need to be…careful."

"Oh, don't I know it, Mr. Dillon. I skedaddled outta that room, hat in hand, and watched ever'thing else from a ways away. Ruby stood up t' him, tellin' him she didn't know nuthin' cause she was with me. Said Kitty had been sleepin' in her own room and if Kitty'd run off, it wasn't her fault. Blackthorne's face turned ugly, and he drew back a big fist t' hit Miss Ruby, but just in time Earl Dangler was dragged up by Titus and Comanche Dan."

"Ruby will have to be…careful…like you, Chester."

"Yessir, she will. I think Blackthorne has forgot her for the meantime. But he sure lit into Earl Dangler. He dragged Earl into one of the bedrooms. I heard an awful commotion—crashin', hollerin', and then…nuthin'. Nobody I talked to has seen hide nor hair of Dangler since."

"No telling…what happened. Blackthorne…is a very…violent man."

"I don't mind tellin' ya, Mr. Dillon…that Silas Blackthorne, he scares me more'n justa little bit. I don't believe he's quite right in the head, if ya' ask me." Chester's expression darkened. "He's just plain evil."

tbc

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