The buckboard rolled over a rock that Matt couldn't see in the dark, and Festus screamed in pain.
"Damnit Matt!"
Dillon pulled up on the reins and turned to the doctor. "I didn't do it on purpose, Doc...it's just too dark to see."
Matt jumped down from the seat and stood next to where Doc was leaning against the backboard, holding Festus gently up against him. Dillon watched silently as the old man tried in vain to comfort the distressed deputy. Doc kept his left hand on Haggen's forehead, and his right arm wrapped around the man's stomach, effectively holding Festus down against him as he spoke softly into the deputy's ear.
"I know you're hurtin' Festus, but I need you to lie as still as you can. You just lean on me and that'll help."
The only sound coming from Haggen was a tormented whimper, and Matt swallowed hard trying to keep the contents in his stomach from rolling up. He looked at Doc until the physician met his gaze.
His voice was soft, almost defeated, "What should we do, Doc?"
He couldn't see the old man's facial expression in what little moonlight there was, but the barely contained anger in his voice was unmistakable. "We're stayin' put until daybreak. You can't see any of the bumps in the road and Festus just can't take much more of bein' jostled around in the dark."
Dillon kept the hurt from his tone, "I thought we'd be able to make better time."
The old man's timbre was brittle, "And I told you the danger several hours ago."
The marshal couldn't keep the guilt from his voice, "Is he worse?"
"Well he ain't no better for it..." Doc swallowed hard and his tone softened, "I'm sorry, Matt, this isn't your fault." He looked into the tall man's wet eyes and felt the water of his own. "I'm afraid I'm just not as detached as a doctor's supposed to be..."
Dillon nodded. "I know that, Doc." He gently squeezed his friend's shoulder. "I'll set up a camp, and build a fire. It's gonna be a cold one tonight."
Doc had barely nodded off when the soft cries jarred him awake. He sat up and moved closer to Festus, placing a gentle hand across the man's brow.
"Shhh, easy Festus."
Haggen couldn't keep the tears of agony from spilling down his cheeks. "Doc," he cried, "my leg Doc, I can't take this no more." He grabbed at Doc's coat, his cries deepening, "Please, Doc... do somethin'..."
With no strength left to hold down his own emotions, Adams moved closer to the deputy, softly brushing his hand through Haggen's hair. "I'm sorry ol' boy, I've given you all the laudanum you can take right now. Any more, and it could kill ya."
"I don't care none, Doc." His voice dropped to a pained whisper, "If'n I was a horse with a leg like this, you'd shoot me ta put me outta my misery. Doc, please..."
His hand shaking, Doc reached toward his black bag. He was startled when the large hand grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
"Doc..." Adams looked into Dillon's eyes, and the marshal could see the torment in the pale blue staring at him. He let go of Doc's hand, and the man pulled out a bottle of ether. Matt's voice was apologetic, "I'm sorry, Doc, I thought--"
"--Yes, I know what you thought."
Adams turned toward Festus and pulled out his own handkerchief.
"You just calm down, Festus, I'm gonna knock you out with some ether."
Tears fell fast down Haggen's face and Matt had to look away. Doc poured some ether on his handkerchief, and held it over Haggen's nose and mouth with one hand, soothingly brushing his hand across his friend's brow with the other. Within a few brief moments, Festus was thankfully unconscious, no longer aware of the agony his body was in. Doc stood, and turned to Matt, anger lighting his eyes.
"How could you think for even one minute that I could harm one hair on his head? What's gotten into you?"
Dillon had to avert his eyes. "Doc, I didn't mean it like that, and you know it."
Adams swiped a hand across his mustache and chin, trying to calm down. "Well exactly how in the hell did you mean it then?"
Matt looked straight at Adams. "I know how you feel about Festus, Doc. I know how hard this is for ya."
"So you just thought I'd put him out of his misery?"
Dillon put a gentle hand on Adams' shoulder. "No...it's just..."
Matt's voice dropped away as did his large hand, and Adams understood.
"It's not easy for either one of us, Matt, but remember, it's a lot harder on him, and I'm not going to let him give up on himself." He looked into Dillon's eyes. "At least not yet. Now come on, I'm tired, let's get some sleep."
Dillon nodded, his voice soft, "We'll leave at first light tomorrow, and we should be in Dodge by nightfall."