"You should have told me about the history between you and Aaron Bradley; it blindsided me completely."

Doc looked away. "I'm sorry, Tom; it's not something I ever talk about."

He pat Adams' shoulder. "Tomorrow's another day, and after Beeman calls his last witness--"

"--that gonna be Ruth Bradley?"

"Yes it is. After she gives her testimony, it's our turn, and I'm going to hit them with everything we've got."

Doc looked at him skeptically. "Exactly what is it that we've got, Tom?"

"We've got some pretty strong character witnesses, and then there will be your testimony as to the events of that night. And Doc, in order to undo the vengeance motive Beeman's built into this case, I'm going to have to ask you about what happened back in Easton on the stand."

Adams looked at him sharply. "No sir, no you don't. I won't talk about that."

"Doc, we don't have any choice. If we don't gain the jury's sympathy, well..."

"I know, I've had it." Doc sat heavily on the cot in the jail cell, and tugged on his ear slightly. Then he looked up at his attorney. "Tom, if that jury decides to hang me after hearin' the truth of that night, then so be it, but I'll be damned if I talk about somethin' so private..."

Doc looked away, unable to finish the sentence. McClennan glanced down for a moment, then back at the saddened man before him.

"Doc, if we don't let the jury hear about the pain Bradley put you through, I don't think there's a thing I can do to save you from this."

Adams stared into the young man's eyes. "I understand that, Tom." His voice took on a hardness that McClennan hadn't heard before. "My dead wife, baby and daughter are not up for discussion, and that's final. If you bring it up in court, I will ask the judge to replace you as my lawyer."

McClennan shook his head. "I think you're being a fool, but it's your neck, Doc. Let me ask you this though: what will you do if Beeman asks you about it?"

"I ain't gonna answer him."

"The judge will find you in contempt."

Doc let out a hollow laugh. "Tell me how that's worse than hangin'?"

The two men stared at each other for a moment, then quietly, McClennan walked into the main room of the Hays city jail, closing the connecting door behind him. Matt, Festus and Kitty stared at him expectantly. He let out a long sigh of air.

"I wish I had something good to tell you, but Beeman killed us today with the whole vengeance motive, and Doc Adams refuses to tell his side of it in court tomorrow."

Kitty's voice belied her fear, "Are you sayin' he doesn't stand a chance?"

"Not if he doesn't tell his side of things. And I mean all of it, including what happened back in Easton."

Matt spoke up, "Well if he's asked about it on the stand, he has to answer..."

"He just told me he simply wouldn't answer any questions on the subject."

Festus asked, "Won't the judge make him answer?"

Matt turned to his deputy. "Festus, you can't force a man to answer. The judge will simply find him in contempt, which in the end, doesn't matter, because by that time, the jury will be dead set against him."

McClennan picked up his hat and satchel. "Listen, he looks pretty worn out, and what I think he needs most right now are his friends, so I'll leave you all to it. Try and get him to eat something if you can, and I'll see you all first thing in the morning. Good night."

"Good night, Mr. McClennan," Matt said.

"See ya directly..." Festus added.

"Good night," Kitty said as an afterthought. She turned to Matt. "I'll go down to Wiley's and get him something to eat, why don't the two of you see if you can cheer him up, and then I'll try talking to him over supper."

Matt nodded. "Come on, Festus..."

The deputy followed the marshall through the door and into the cell area. Doc looked up at the two men and smiled wearily.

"They'll just let anyone in here, won't they?"

"I guess so, Doc," Matt said quietly. "How're you holdin' up?"

"I'm a little tired, Matt, but other than that, I'm okay."

Dillon couldn't meet the old man's gaze. "Doc...I don't know what to say about that testimony today."

Doc stood and moved closer to the bars so that he could touch Matt's arm. "I already toldja, Matt, it ain't nothin' fer you to worry about, and I meant it." Seeing that Dillon was overcome with emotion, Doc turned his piercing gaze on Haggen. "And what cat's grabbed your tongue?"

"Aw ya blamed ol' scudder, ain't nothin' got my tongue." He looked sadly into the pale eyes. "I jes' couldn't thank o' nuthin' good ta say."

"Well this has turned out to be a fine wake; I haven't even been convicted yet, and the two of you are actin' like I'm already dead. We don't even have any damned whiskey to toast what a great man I was..."

Festus tried to rally a few insults for Adams' sake. "Oh thar ya go, ya ol' quackity-quack, jes' a bellerin' and a faunchin' and tellin' folks what they's a-thankin'... If'n somebody met you out on the street, they'd be tryin' ta find some ways ta stuff their ears with socks to keep from hearin' ya prattlin' on..."

"Oh they would, would they? Well lemme tell you somethin' ya mangy ol' flea-bitten, mule-headed second-cousin-to-trouble itself, I wouldn't waste so much as another breath on ya if I hadn't been stuck with ya since the day ya wandered into Dodge!"

Festus stared at Adams for a second, then said, "Trouble? I ain't got no second cousin called Trouble... got me a first cousin called Foible, but that's as close as she gits..."

Matt laughed at Doc's sour expression for the first time in days.

"Oh for pete's sake, Matt, can't you take him somewhere? Anywhere but here?"

"Come on Festus, let's leave Doc alone for a few minutes..."

Adams' voice was soft, "Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's Kitty?"

"She'll be here in a minute; she went to get you some supper."

Adams nodded, but said nothing, and Dillon knew enough to leave it alone. He pat Haggen on the shoulder and the two men walked out, closing the door behind them. Doc sat for the first time that day in the silence of his own thoughts, and he found he didn't like them at all. He looked at the grey of the cold stone walls, and he shivered. He couldn't abide the idea of standing on the hangman's platform, hands tied behind his back, a noose around his neck, and looking either Kitty or Festus in the eyes. Their anguish would break him, and he'd cry like a baby.

The only one he could bear to look upon in that moment would be Matt. He smiled at the irony of it: in many ways it would be hardest on Matt, but Doc was certain that the marshall of Dodge wouldn't show it, and it would be in his eyes that Doc would himself find strength. Fate was a funny thing. He heard the door to the room opening, and he quickly wiped the moisture from his eyes. Kitty bustled in, carrying a tray and the keys to his cell door.

"Hiya handsome, how're doin'?"

"I'm okay, honey."

She could tell from his shaky voice that she had interrupted an emotional moment. Pretending not to notice the wetness of his face, she unlocked the door, and walked in, setting the tray on the chair.

"Roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, and horseradish."

He looked up at her. "There's been a sudden run on roast beef lately, as if every meal was about to be my last." He regretted the comment as soon as it left his tongue, but the wilted look on Kitty's face landed solidly in his stomach. "Kitty, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that... I know all of you are just trying to take good care of me." He looked at his shoes. "I guess I'm too tired to be anything less than a cranky old man."

She recovered fairly quickly. "It's all right, Doc, this has been tough on all of us, but especially you. It's bound to come out somehow."

He held out his hand to her, and she clasped it. "But you're the last person I wanna take this out on, honey."

"I know that." She allowed him to pull her next to him on the cot, and when he didn't reach for the tray of food, she reached over him and put it on his lap. "Come on, you've got to eat."

Doc stared down at the food and felt his stomach turn. "I'm really not hungry." He felt her fingers gently tugging the curls on the back of his head, and he smiled, changing the subject. "I need a haircut don't I?"

She ruffled his hair with her hand. "Yeah, a little. I haven't seen curls like this on you for almost ten years..."

"Maybe you can get a barber over here tomorrow morning then."

She giggled mischievously. "Or maybe I can just borrow his scissors..."

"Oh no ya don't...you ain't cuttin' my hair. I remember the last time you tried that; I came out lookin' like a shaved sheep!"

She playfully swatted his shoulder. "Oh you did not, ya liar!" He smiled at her, and she pointed at the tray. "Come on, that food's gettin' cold."

Kitty watched him eat a few bites and then set the tray on the chair. "I'm sorry honey, that's all I can manage right now."

"Well, it was better than nothing. I'll just leave it here in case you decide you want a little more later..."

She stood to leave, but he grabbed her hand, hard. When Kitty looked down at him, his pale eyes were filled with a helplessness that she had never seen in them, and it made her heart skip a beat. For a long moment, they held each other with a long-shared regard, each hearing what the other could not voice. Kitty caressed the side of his face with her hand, and then wordlessly sat back down on the bunk, pulling him into her arms.

Her voice was like soft velvet, "I want you to try and sleep now, handsome."

His deep voice was a whisper, "Don't know if I can..."

Gently Kitty moved to sit on one end of the bunk, allowing him to stretch out, cradling his head in her lap. "I'll be right here with you, now close your eyes."

Concentrating on the gentle hands brushing through his thick hair, Doc finally fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.