Riding back to Dodge, the violent anger was still there, but the roaring flame of it had been tamped down within control. Now the deep, hurtful sadness came down like a heavy, black curtain over his heart and mind, causing him to slump in the saddle.
He rode ahead of Sam and Burke and the other men from town, all who maintained a respectful distance. Festus, Newly, and six of the townsmen were headed for Hays with a tightly-bound Jude Bonner and his surviving Dog Soldiers.
Matt was so full of conflicting thoughts and emotions that he was grateful that his big Buckskin needed no guidance to head home. The loyal horse sensed his man's unusual lack of calm, strong direction, and he knew he must take the lead.
"God help me…I almost murdered a man," he thought, still feeling the hatred that had burst into a blinding rage when he was about to smash a large rock onto Bonner's face. Only a shout and a shot from Festus, killing a man aiming at Matt, stopped him in time.
"He kidnapped Kitty to hurt me, but he…he…raped her and let the others…" The ugly word felt like a bitter poison in his mouth, even though unspoken except in his head.
As much as Matt was anxious to get back to Doc's office to be with Kitty, he had to admit a reluctance to see her again so bruised, wounded, and battered, and, as Doc had said, "terribly abused." The big, long-time Marshal felt so helpless, a feeling he was not used to, being a man of decisive action. But he knew just being there, holding her hand, and softly talking to her helped her, and even was essential at this time.
"I'll need to be careful with her, patient and understanding. She needs to know that I understand that what was done to her was a terrible act of violence, not a sexual act, and that we can move past this in whatever way and time span she needs."
He could feel the rage building in him again, the desire to destroy so strong that his fingernails drew blood as he clenched the reins, wishing his big hands could be pounding and pounding into Jude Bonner.
Looking down at his chest in the dark, he felt the absence of the silver badge that had hung there for so many years.
"Anything but this," he had said to Doc through gritted teeth after his old friend had warned him about going out "with vengeance in your heart."
"Vengeance is MINE, sayeth the Lord," Matt said softly. "HIS, not mine…"
He rode on quietly, his horse dutifully plodding along. The only sounds were the clopping of the hooves of his and the horses behind, and the occasional call of a night bird or coyote. After a mile or so, the slumped man straightened up and took in a ragged breath. His mind was still tormented, but he knew where to begin as he looked up and spoke aloud.
"Please God! I know I don't talk to you much, but PLEASE help me to be whatever my Kitty needs!"
"Needs."
His face was twisted in anguish as the thoughts he had refused to let form flowed into his mind. A life without her. A life where she had died due to his inability to save her. A life alone.
He raised his head to the cloudy, dark night sky, his eyes squinting up, desperate for help and comfort, desperate for an answer.
"Oh God! Forgive my selfishness, but You must know how much I NEED her!"
The listening heavens opened. Sweet, forgiving and healing rain fell on his upturned face. He let it wash over him, smoothing his creases of grief, washing any hateful words from his open mouth. The soft, sweet drops helped his tortured mind release its grip on thoughts of physical revenge, dampen and control the flames of his hatred.
He was still a lawman. He was still a United States Marshal.
Tears began to flow down his face, and as he continued to look up, the rain from heaven washed them away, and left him with the warm spark of self-forgiveness and peace.
He knew what to do.
End.