Chapter 2
Kitty felt something on her shoulder, a gentle touch, a squeeze, and then a quiet, familiar voice.
"Why don't you let me take over now, Kitty?"
She hadn't even heard the horses approach or the door open, but somehow Doc was standing behind her. She spun around and buried her face in his chest. He put his arms around her and squeezed gently for a few comforting moments before reminding her that they had work to do.
Tears of relief dampened her face and she wiped them away on the back of her sleeve because there wasn't anything else available to use.
"I've got some hot water on the stove Doc." She sniffed a little and wiped her eyes once more, trying not to let him see. "Where's Chester? We'll need more firewood soon." She threw the last stick of firewood into the flames as she spoke.
"He'll be here in a minute - he went to take care of the horses." As he spoke he turned his attention to Dillon.
"How long has he had this fever, Kitty?" he called to her as he withdrew his spectacles from their case and carefully placed the temple wires behind his ears.
"It really got bad last night but he's had it on and off ever since we found him."
Adams set about examining his patient. He pulled out his pocket watch and placed his fingers around the marshal's wrist. The pulse was a little rapid, but blood loss and fever would account for that. He retrieved his stethoscope from the tattered medical bag he'd placed on a stained whiskey barrel which looked like it had once served as a kitchen table.
Dillon began to toss and turn again when Doc placed the cold bell of the instrument on his chest. Adams tried talking to his friend but got very little in the way of a coherent response. He returned to his bag, pulled out the instruments he needed for surgery and handed them to Kitty.
Adams hated to see his friend in the shape he was in now. The picture in his mind was always that of the tall lawman pacing along Front Street, sitting astride that big buckskin horse of his, or sleeping in the chair outside the jail. His friend shouldn't be like he was now, fevered, in pain and unaware of what was happening. Doc knew he was about to make his friend's pain much worse but he also knew that the bullet had to come out, and soon, or the end result would be fatal. He had very limited equipment in the black bag he always carried with him, after all he had been on a fishing trip. Fortunately the few instruments he did have included a soft probe and a pair of forceps to extract the bullet once he'd located it, as well as a dose or two of laudanum.
Everything was ready. Kitty was trying to comfort Matt.
"Doc's here now, Matt. He's going to get that bullet out. Just try to hold still for him."
Doc listened as she spoke soothingly to the big lawman. When she'd finished he took the small dark bottle containing laudanum from his medical bag and poured about half of the contents into the same tin mug that Kitty had used for coffee.
"Get this down him Kitty while I wash my hands."
The marshal began to calm down. Doc knew that Kitty's voice often had that effect on him, even under less dire circumstances. He watched as she managed to get him to take a swallow or two of the medicine. It wasn't perfect but it would help.
Chester entered just as the physician was drying his hands.
"You alright Miss Kitty? Doc, you need me to do anything?" Chester looked from one to the other of his friends before he dared glance at his boss. Dillon looked sicker than he'd ever seen him before, and the jailer wondered how Miss Kitty had managed to cope all by herself before he and Doc had returned.
"Just come over here and hold him still." The physician looked intently at Chester, trying to convey to him that it was not going to be an easy task.
Adams had dug many bullets out of Matt Dillon. The badge he wore seemed to act like a bull's eye hung on its wearer. This time the wound itself didn't look too bad except for the fact that the bullet had been in there for too long and as a result the lawman now had a high fever. Doc looked at Chester - the man must be exhausted. He'd ridden for a day and a half to track the physician down, and then after just a two-hour rest he'd turned around and started back. The urgent need for Doc's skills meant that they'd had to travel by night. Fortunately there'd been an almost full moon and Chester took advantage of it to get them back to this old shack as quickly as possible. Adams just hoped they were in time.
"You ready?" he asked the marshal's assistant, in a voice that was little above a whisper.
"Yes Doc," the ever-faithful jailer replied.
"Just try to hold him still."
Chester nodded without looking up.
"Hold his hand Kitty," Doc said quietly. He took a breath to prepare his mind for the procedure ahead then picked up the probe and inserted it carefully into the wound. He knew it would hurt, but he also knew that the best thing he could do, since he had no ether with him, was to work as quickly as possible.
It took him only a minute to locate the bullet, a minute that brought beads of sweat to Dillon's face and cries from his mouth. Kitty held on to his hand and Chester pressed him back against the makeshift bed while Doc worked. Other than the painful groans from the lawman, there were no other sounds in the shack. Even the creaking sounds of the dilapidated cabin seemed to refrain from their ceaseless complaining.
Doc withdrew the probe and focused his mind as he picked up the forceps. He looked at Chester and nodded. Everyone knew this part was going to be the worst. The physician took a moment to visualize in his mind the path he would guide the instrument on to retrieve the small piece of lead lodged beneath a tendon.
Working as quickly as was safe, he blocked the sound of his friend's cries from his mind as he grasped the bullet and manipulated the forceps to remove it from its resting place. Finally he had it in his grasp and with a firm steady movement pulled it from the marshal's shoulder.
"Matt, it's out," he said quietly as he checked his patient's pulse. Dillon had slumped back into unconsciousness. Kitty's eyes locked with those of the doctor and he understood the question she was silently asking.
"He'll be fine in a few days," he replied to her un-asked question, adding as much confidence as he could muster to his words. He knew it would be a while before the lawman was ready to travel back to Dodge.
The physician himself was tired, He'd just ridden for a night and part of a day to get here and then he'd suffered the stress of performing surgery on his friend. He'd sit with him now, monitoring his condition until his fever broke. After that he'd think about how to get him back to Dodge.
For now he needed to persuade Chester and Kitty to get some sleep. He knew that Chester had been riding for more than three days straight and Kitty had been by herself taking care of Matt all that time as well. Now it was his turn to shoulder the responsibility.
His skilled fingers carefully applied a clean dressing to cover the wound while his mind worked on what should be done next. He knew that both Chester and Kitty would look to him for guidance. When he'd finally fixed the bandage in place he arched his back a little to stretch the muscles that had been tensed so tightly while he'd been working. He noticed that Chester was spreading out a bedroll in the corner of the room closest to the stove.
"I fixed this for ya Miss Kitty," Chester was saying. "I'm awful sorry that I can't make ya something more comfortable. I'd hang up a curtain t' give ya a little privacy if I could, but we don't have nothin' like that."
Kitty smiled back at him. Chester was always so thoughtful. It had been a long time since she'd slept on a hard wooden floor but Chester had made it as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. He'd set out two saddle blankets and placed his own bedroll on top of them. She gratefully sank onto the arrangement and then, suddenly concerned about Matt's assistant, asked where he planned to sleep.
"Oh don't you worry none about me Miss Kitty. I never even saw a bed till I joined th' army. I'll be fine on the floorboards."
She watched as he pulled his trail coat from a rusty hook by the door and wrapped it around himself. Then, placing his hat on the floor for a pillow, he curled up on his side facing the wall and was asleep almost immediately.
She lay there watching the flickering light from the embers in the stove and let random thoughts pass through her head. She was tired but unlike Chester, sleep would be slow in coming. The fading glow from the stove let her see Doc's outline as he kept his lone vigil. She watched as he quietly took his stethoscope and plugged it into his ears to listen to Dillon's breathing for several minutes before sitting down again.
"How is he Doc?" She whispered softly. Her old friend folded his stethoscope and replaced it into the black bag that was so much a part of him. He came over to her before answering.
"Why aren't you asleep, young lady?"
She couldn't help but smile. "He's gonna be alright, isn't he Curly?"
"I'd bet my reputation on it."
She smiled in the darkness, knowing that was all the answer she'd get tonight.
Doc stood looking at her with a soft gentleness in his eyes. "Sleep now," he said as he leaned over and pulled the old trail blanket up around her shoulders before returning to his patient.
Matt was aware that something was different. His shoulder still hurt but the burning fire seemed to have left him. He managed to open his eyes but couldn't see much in the dim light of the shack. He tried to move. He needed to find out what was happening. Almost at once a cool hand was on his forehead.
"Matt?" It was a voice he knew well. "How are you feeling?"
"Doc?" He managed to croak. His mouth was so dry that it was hard to form words. "Wa-ater'" he mouthed rather than making a sound.
A few minutes later a hand lifted his head and the familiar tin mug felt cold against his lips. He managed to swallow a little.
"Tha's good," he commented as the mug was withdrawn and his head rested back on the pillow. "Did you get that bullet out?" His voice was still weak and his tongue felt twice its normal size.
"Yes Matt. It's out, but it had been in there almost too long. You'll have to be careful for a day or two. You need to lie still now."
Dillon nodded in understanding. "Where are we?" he asked.
The marshal had no idea of what this place was or how he or Doc got here for that matter.
"We're about three hours west of Dodge. Kitty and Chester found you and brought you to this place."
"Kitty's here?" he asked trying to turn his head and look around.
"Yes but she's asleep right now. You want more water?" The same competent hand lifted his head again and he took another swallow of the cold, clear liquid.
"You've got a pretty good fever Matt, so you need to rest now. We'll get you back to Dodge as soon as you're able to travel.'
The words faded to nothing and the marshal felt the familiar blackness coming over him again. He couldn't find enough strength to fight it.
Through the dim glow given off by the embers in the stove, Kitty heard sounds coming from Matt as he rambled in his sleep but Doc was there. She didn't have to worry. Eventually she relaxed her body enough to doze but her mind continued to work its way back over the events of the last few days. She couldn't shut out the thoughts of all the terrible things that might have gone wrong while she was here alone. She'd been consumed by the effort to keep the man she loved alive until help arrived and had managed to push aside the fear that he would die while she stood helplessly watching.
()()()
She found herself standing beside him with the carefully cleaned knife in her hand. She knew what she had to do. It wouldn't be easy but it had to be done. Taking a breath she touched the point of the knife to the inflamed skin. She'd never deliberately cut into living flesh before and had to force her hand to apply pressure. She felt the blade sink into the substance of his shoulder. Down it went deeper and deeper. She couldn't make it stop. Suddenly she was bathed in warm, sticky blood. It wouldn't stop coming. She threw the knife away and pressed her hand down into the horrible mess she'd created. She couldn't stop the flow. Blood surrounded her. It was on her hands, her clothes and then it was dripping onto the floor. She screamed in horror at the scene. The screaming continued without control. She lifted her hands to her face and all that she saw was blood. From somewhere far off she heard her name. She was being shaken.
"Kitty, open your eyes! It's Doc." The voice kept repeating the words until their meaning broke her nightmare.
"Oh Doc!" She grasped his hand between both of hers.
"You were dreaming," he said softly then left her for a moment in order to light the only oil lamp they had. He turned the wick low knowing that a little light was the best thing to dispel a bad dream.
She sat panting for a few minutes. A mug was gently pushed into her hand.
"Drink this. A little whiskey'll help settle you."
Obediently she took a few sips.
"He's alright, isn't he Doc?"
"Yes he's fine. We'll be able to go home soon. Chester left a little while ago. He said there's a small farm a few miles north of here where they have a wagon he can borrow to get Matt back to town.
Kitty got up from her palette on the floor. She was aware that Doc's eyes were watching her.
"I'm fine, honestly," she proclaimed softly. "Let me sit with him for a while. I'll call you if anything changes." To be honest she wasn't quite sure she felt so fine, but she was certain that she didn't want to go back to sleep right then. She could still smell the tang of iron and feel the stickiness of the blood from her dream on her hands. It would take a little more time before that feeling left her.
()()()
The first rays of dawn dispelled the horrors of her nightmare. It wasn't long before Chester returned with the wagon. He also brought a few supplies and Kitty put together a hasty meal. When she turned around to look, Matt was sitting up on the side of the makeshift bed and Doc was urging him not to stand until he could make a sling for his left arm. She went over to look at him just to assure herself that he was indeed going to recover.
"You scared me pretty good, Matt."
"I know, Kitty. I'm sorry... I didn't mean to."
The lawman looked around. Chester and Doc were heading for the door to go outside and start loading the wagon. For a few minutes he was alone with Kitty. He pulled her to him with his right arm. "I'll make it up to you. I promise."
A soft kiss glanced briefly across her lips and took away the fears of the night. She'd definitely hold him to that promise when they got home.
END