Doc paced the length of his outer office, hands shoved deeply in the pockets of his pants.

"You're tellin' me you did nothing? He practically admitted to beating both of them, and you just left him there..."

"Calm down, Doc."

"Don't you tell me to calm down, Matt. Have you observed the condition his wife and daughter are in? Have you?"

Dillon leaned against Doc's desk, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Go ahead, Doc, just get it all out of your system..."

The doctor's eyes were emblazoned with anger. "Don't you patronize me, Marshal. Dell Stevenson beat his wife up pretty bad, but what he did to Cassie--"

The older man's voice choked off, and Dillon straightened up. "Doc?"

Adams stopped pacing, his back to the marshal. His head lowered, he swallowed hard trying to calm himself. Then he turned to face his friend.

"Matt, he abused Cassie in the worst possible way."

"Now Doc, you won't know that for sure until Cassie wakes up and tells you."

The anger returned quickly to Doc's timbre, "I don't need Cassie to tell me what I saw during her examination. He violated her, Matt, and it was vicious."

Dillon placed a gentle hand on Adams' shoulder. "I don't doubt what you're sayin', Doc, but we don't know that it was Dell Stevenson who did it."

The doctor jerked away from the marshal's touch. "You said yourself that he admitted to the beatings--"

"--Doc, you know yourself that I can't haul a man into jail for that; I wish the hell I could, but he hasn't broken any laws in the state of Kansas."

"It's despicable that in this day and age a man can't be held accountable for abusing his family. It's...well it's immoral, Matt."

Sensing that Doc needed something to hold onto, Dillon pat his back gently. "I'll go over and talk to Mary and see what I can find out. If he threw them out on a cold night like that, maybe... well, maybe I can come up with some kinda charge to put against him..."

The venom dripped off the doctor's voice, "He oughta be hung for what he's done."

"Now Doc, you let the law handle this..."

Adams looked sharply at Dillon. "If the law doesn't do anything about it, Matt, so help me, I will."

Dillon squeezed Doc's neck gently. "You're awfully tired, Doc. Maybe you should let Kitty spell you for a little while."

Adams growled at Dillon, "You just worry about doin' your job Matt, and leave mine to me."

Doc stalked into the back room, closing the door behind him. Matt shook his head as he put his hat back on, heading out the door for Ma Smalley's. For all of the doctor's protestation's to the contrary, he was a man of deep emotion and extraordinary compassion; Matt could only hope that it wouldn't pit the two of them against each other in this situation. But deep down, Matt Dillon knew that it would.

Matt sat in the chair by the bed and smiled gently at its occupant.

"I'm glad you're feeling a little better, Mrs. Stevenson."

"My Cassie, Marshal...how is she? Doc hasn't been over this evenin' and I don't know how she is..."

Matt looked down at the hat in his hands. "Well, I'm afraid there's been no change, Mrs. Stevenson. Your daughter is still unconscious." He paused for a moment, then continued, "I wanted to talk to you about what happened, Mrs. Stevenson."

"I already told Dr. Adams. Cassie and me was headin' into town and the horse spooked, tippin' the wagon. We was thrown from it, and that's the last I remember till I woke up at Doc Adams' place."

"Why were you coming to Dodge in the middle of the night?"

"It weren't the middle of the night, Marshal. It was early in the mornin'..."

"Uh-huh. And what happened to the wagon and the horse?"

"I don't rightly know. Must've run off..."

"Mrs. Stevenson, all due respect, but I don't believe you."

"You don't have ta pay no respect Marshal, if you're gonna call me a liar."

"It isn't that, ma'am, it's just that after speaking with your husband, I sort of got the idea that maybe he isn't all that gentle with you and Cassie..."

Mary Stevenson looked away. "It ain't proper for a wife to tell tales out the front door of her own home, Marshal. It ain't right."

"Mrs. Stevenson, did you know that he...well, he hurt Cassie in a way that no father should ever--"

"--He ain't her real father, and I don't wanna hear no more, Marshal! It won't do to have no talk like that about Cassie. Why that gits around town, and no respectable young man'll have her."

"Mrs. Stevenson, why were you coming to Dodge? Was it to get away from your husband?"

"I'm afraid I'm feelin' quite spent now, Marshal. Please leave..."

Sighing, Matt stood and put his hat on. "Mrs. Stevenson, please understand that there isn't much I can do either way, but at least if you tell me the truth, I might be able to come up with something to put a stop to it." She stared stonily at him, and he continued, "If you won't do it for yourself, think of Cassie."

Her voice was hard and cold. "I am thinking of my daughter, Marshal. Good night."

"Good night, Mrs. Stevenson."

Matt walked through the door, gently closing it behind him, unaware of the tears spilling down Mary Stevenson's cheeks.

Kitty was leaning against the bar when Dillon walked into the Longbranch and over to her.

"Well, you look like you could use a drink, cowboy."

He pushed the tip of his hat back with his finger. "Yeah, Kitty, I guess I could."

"Rudy, two whiskies..."

The bartender set two glasses of whiskey down, and they each took a sip.

"Chester said that Dell Stevenson didn't seem too worried about his wife and daughter..."

A sarcastic snort uttered from Dillon's mouth. "That's putting it mildly. It turns out that he's not her real father. I don't know what happened to him, but this man is her step-father. And as a man he's worthless, Kitty. Absolutely worthless."

"Does Doc know Mr. Stevenson isn't Cassie's real father?"

"No, I don't think so. I'll tell him in the morning. I don't think he'll be too happy to see me a second time tonight."

She pat his arm. "Chester also said there's nothing you can do about this. Legally, anyway."

Dillon's face soured slightly. "Chester should learn to keep his mouth shut."

Sensing that Matt was more upset than she originally anticipated, Kitty tugged on his arm slightly. "Come on, let's sit at a table."

The two of them sat down at a quiet table in the back of the saloon.

"I just finished talking with Mary Stevenson, and she insists that she and Cassie were banged up from a wagon accident."

"Could she be telling the truth, Matt?"

He shook his head. "I doubt it. Why would Cassie and Mary be heading to Dodge in the middle of the night in a wagon? And why wasn't there any sign of wagon tracks, a horse or the wagon itself? No Kitty, I'm afraid she's just covering up for her husband."

"Oh Matt, why would she do that? If you're right, he beat on her too."

"She thinks she's protecting Cassie."

"It sounds like the best way to do that would be to keep Cassie away from him..."

"Yeah, well..." He looked into her eyes then, the softness of them calming him slightly. "How much did Doc tell you about Cassie's condition?"

Kitty shrugged. "Not much. Just that he doesn't know if she'll be all right, and that she's still unconscious." She watched him take a long sip of his whiskey. "What's going on, Matt?"

"Cassie didn't take just a beating, Kitty."

It took a moment for Russell to understand his meaning, and a frown covered her face. "Oh Matt, no..."

"Yeah. Doc said it was pretty rough."

"How can you be sure it was Dell Stevenson who did it, and not someone else?"

"I can't, Kitty. Not unless Mary or Cassie, when she's able, says something. And even then..."

"Even then you don't have any law to back you up."

"No. I don't."

"How could someone who's supposed to be a father to a young girl do something like that to her?"

"I don't know."

"What are you going to do?"

"For the moment, there's nothing I can do."

"Doc's not going to take kindly to that."

"He already didn't." He paused for a moment, draining the last of his glass. "Frankly, Kitty, he's so angry, I'm afraid of what he might do."

"Oh you know Doc, he was probably just blowin' off steam."

"I don't think so. Not about this."

She ran a loving hand down his cheek, and over the back of his neck, gently rubbing him. "I think you need a little relaxing distraction from all this..."

He glanced at her, a sensuous smile on his lips. "What do you have in mind?"

She stood, pulling his hands with hers. "Come on, cowboy, I'll show you..."

He nonchalantly followed her up the stairs, no one paying them any mind except for Rudy, who could only smile from behind the bar. He wondered if Matt Dillon would ever wise up and ask the girl to marry him before someone else beat him to it; his smile grew broader - he doubted that Kitty Russell would say yes to anyone but the big lawman of Dodge City.

A strong wind whipped against the window pane, causing an inhuman howling sound to jolt him. Doc shifted stiffly in the chair, the long vigil beginning to tax him. He leaned an elbow on the bedside table and rubbed a hand over his face. He felt so tired. His heavy eyes glanced over at the battered figure in the bed, and he knew his own exhaustion didn't matter; he couldn't leave her alone. He lifted his coffee cup to his lips and took another sip, hoping that the warm liquid might keep him going awhile longer.

He opened his pocketwatch in the dim lamplight to check the time: it was three a.m. He slipped the silver watch back into his unbuttoned vest, and once again leaned against the small table, his head resting in his hand. Just as his weary eyes began to close, the soft whimper from the bed jarred him awake. He moved from his chair to sit on the edge of the bed, gently taking a hold of her arms with his strong hands.

"It's all right, Cassie. It's all right."

"Pa...where's Pa?"

Adams brushed a comforting hand across her brow. "He's not here, Cassie."

It took a minute or so before her eyes focused on him, and her voice turned almost monotone. "Dr. Adams..."

"Yes."

"Where are we?" The question was asked without emotion, merely as an idle curiosity.

"At my office, in Dodge."

"Oh." Her voice became even more disconnected from any sentient feeling, "Where's Ma?"

"Your Ma's fine, Cassie. She's staying at Ma Smalley's for a few days."

She looked directly at him. "Why am I here?"

He frowned slightly at her. "You don't remember?" She shook her head, and he dropped his voice as softly as he could, "You were hurt, Cassie. You were hurt very badly."

"Oh."

The lack of concern in her timbre was beginning to bother him, but he kept his voice even.

"I'm going to give you a pill..." He pulled a tablet out of a bottle on the table, and picked up a glass of water. He slid the pill in between her lips and held her head, allowing her to wash it down with the clear liquid. "I want you to sleep now. It's the best thing for you."

"I suppose."

Adams was getting the impression that the young girl no longer cared what happened to her; but then, the drug started taking affect, and she spoke again, this time fear clearly colored her timbre.

"Pa isn't coming here, is he?"

Doc took her hands in his. 'No Cassie, he isn't."

"He isn't my real Pa you know..."

"He isn't?"

"No. My real Pa died when I was four." She looked sadly into the comforting pale eyes holding hers. "I think he loved me though, my real Pa... you sorta remind me of him." Her voice held the shade of an impending drug-induced sleep. "Please keep that man away..."

"I won't let him near you, honey. I promise you that. Now don't you think about it anymore, I want you to sleep."

"You'll stay with me?"

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away."

Her sleepy pale blue eyes looked expectantly into his. "Horses? Do you know that song too?"

"What song, honey?"

"The song about the pretty horses?" Her sleepy voice began to sing, "Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleep you little baby."

Doc smiled at her, and his deep basso sounded softly through the room, joining her. "When you wake, you'll have cake, and all the pretty little horses." As her eyes closed, his voice continued alone, "Blacks and bays, dapples and grays, coach and six a little horses. When you wake, you'll have cake, and all the pretty little horses..."

As sleep began to settle in, she gripped his hand tightly, and he could feel the toll the attack had taken on her. And Dr. Galen Adams wanted to hurt the man who had done this to a girl so young, and so innocent. The man who should have protected her and loved her more purely than any other man could. Adams closed his eyes against the power of his own angry thoughts. If she had been his daughter, he would have done anything in the world to protect her. But then, he hadn't been so successful in protecting his own child when she had needed him. Guilt filled him, and he stood, shoving his hands in his pockets, trying to stave off the emotion stinging his soft blue eyes. He looked back at the now sleeping girl: he couldn't save his own child, but he would jolly well safeguard this one, no matter what the cost.

And the law could be damned if it tried to stop him.