Epilogue Chapter 4

"Marshal… Jim" Doc Kihlgren called out to him as he cautiously stepped into Crown's room.

Crown instinctively reached for his .44 and was pulling it out of the holster before he realized that it was the doctor who had walked into his room. As bone weary tired as he had been he had apparently forgotten to lock his door. "Sorry Doc" he began an apology to the old doctor. "I fell asleep."

"From what Francis tells me you have had maybe six hours of sleep over the past three days. It's a wonder you can still talk." Doctor Kihlgren replied as he approached Crown still wary of the .44 as Crown slowly lowered it to the floor. "I just wanted to check on you before Martha and I went home."

Crown sat up straight in the tub. "How's Dulcey?" he asked his head clearing. He had no idea how long he had been asleep, but apparently he had slept right thru Dulcey's bath and examination.

"She'll be fine." He began. "A good nights sleep and another bowl or two of Martha's potato soup and she will be back to her usual bright and happy self by tomorrow morning." Kihlgren moved to stand next to the tub his red, fading mustache bristling in the low light of the one kerosene lamp lighting Crown's bedroom as he looked down sternly at Crown. "She's got a few bruises but other than that she appears to be suffering from only sleep deprivation, that's all. She was very lucky."

Crown did not miss the accusation in the Doc's words. Crown sighed in relief at Dulcey's diagnosis and then catching the Doc's eyes, he waited patiently to hear what was on the very opinionated Doc's mind.

"How are you doing?" Kihlgren asked him pointedly. "Other than suffering from sleep deprivation and half-starving yourself in guilt, I mean."

Crown sighed again as he quickly weighed his options for answering the doctor. He had never known this man to beat around the bush when it came to getting to the source of any problem. "It was 'cause of me that Whitey took her." He told the old Doc shifting his legs in the tub so he could stand up. "I used Dulcey to set up Whitey and Arn Tinker and it almost got Dulcey killed. And I am more sorry about doing that than you can ever know."

Doc reached over and pulled the bath towel off the rack and held it out to Crown. "I didn't know you before you came to Cimarron City, so I don't know if you have a string of women in your past that you would regularly take advantage of to suit your purposes, but you should know by now that Dulcey is not like most women. Despite her young age she is a smart as a whip, has a heart as big as Texas, works as hard as any man I know, and Martha and I count her as a good friend…sort of an adopted daughter." Doc's moustache bristled even more as he continued to frown down at him. "So before I pull you out of the tub and beat you senseless, which I don't reckon would take too long to do considering what you have been doing to yourself the past three days, I want to really know your intentions towards the girl."

Crown could feel the static charge in the air between them as he slowly reached out and took the towel from the Doc's hand. He warily reached out to grab the rim of the tub with his left hand as he gingerly pulled himself up out of the tub and began to wrap the towel around himself as he slowly stepped out of the tub. He knew without a doubt that the Doc was dead serious about his threat.

"Doc" he began as he stood his full height in front of the doctor. "I have never had a string of women anywhere, ever." He began in earnest. "Sure I have had rolls in the hay with women, but never more than one night stands. My badge always seemed to run off all of the decent women; that is until I met Dulcey." He took a long breath holding the doctor's eyes with an intensity now equaling Kihlgren's. "And yeah, I made a big mistake using Dulcey to get at the Tinker gang. But that's never going to happen ever again. Almost losing her has made me realize that I love her, Doc. Plain and simple. I only hope that she can forgive me for betraying her trust and almost getting her killed."

Doc Kihlgren's face visibly began to relax. "Well I suppose this means that I won't have to beat you senseless after all." He replied with a tilt of his head. "I would hate to have to whip up on a future adopted son-in-law for no reason."

Crown half-smiled at him cocking his head in reply. "You and Charlie Watts." He began. "Charlie and Lola Mae have been trying to get Dulcey and me married for the past 10 months."

"Well I'm glad Martha and I aren't the only ones." He replied reaching up to brush at his bristly moustache as if smoothing out his anger. "And I don't think you have anything to worry about on the forgiveness side. While I was examining her she was more concerned about your health than hers. Both of you just need a good night's sleep and a long private conversation tomorrow morning before too much of the day passes and you, Marshal Crown, lose your nerve. And since things are settling down here in Cimarron I sure hope you are thinking about a career change; one that doesn't involve marshaling. Although Dulcey's become a good assistant for me filling in while Martha is off midwifing, and that girl can stitch up wounds better than I can now, I would gladly see her move away from Cimarron City and maybe get into medical school. I just don't want to see Dulcey become a widow before she turns 20 by marrying a bull-headed Marshal who thinks he survive without sleeping and eating."

Doc Kihlgren turned and began to walk towards the door but stopped before as he placed his hand on the door knob. "Martha and I will come round tomorrow afternoon and check up on you and Dulcey." He turned his head to look back at Crown with firm intent in his eyes.

Crown couldn't help but chuckle at the Doc's bossiness. "Yes, sir." He replied watching as the Doc opened, walked thru, and closed the door. Crown thought about locking his door but decided he wouldn't be in his room long enough for an unlocked door to pose a potential problem. He didn't bother with another union suit because he had hoped that between himself, Francis, and Ben they could work out a guard duty schedule which would allow them 4 hours sleep each. And he was sure looking forward to his 4 hours of sleep in his bed with nothing on but his flannel drawers; after tucking away at least 4 bowls of Mrs. Kihlgren's potato soup with cornbread that is.