Chester caught up with Dillon as the tall marshal was tying Buck to a tree some ways away from the Stevenson house. Goode dismounted and tied his horse next to Matt's, pulling his shotgun from its scabbard.

"Lights is on in the house, Mr. Dillon..."

"Yeah." Dillon stared at the cabin for a moment, holding his shotgun tightly in both his hands. "I don't have a good feeling, Chester."

Goode looked at Matt sharply. "I ain't never heard you say such a thing, Mr. Dillon."

Matt swallowed hard and pulled his hat down lower over his face, keeping the falling snow from hitting him. "Come on, Chester, let's go..."

The two men quietly approached the house, each taking up a position on either side of the front door. Dillon banged on the wood with the butt of his shotgun.

"Stevenson, this is Marshal Dillon. Open up."

"Git outta here, Dillon. You ain't got no business here." To punctuate his meaning, Stevenson fired a rifle shot out the window.

Both Matt and Chester ducked low, and Matt yelled, "I'm takin' you in, Stevenson..."

"You cain't do nothin' to me for beatin' my women a little."

"I'm takin' you in for assaulting Doc Adams, and for destroying his property."

"That ol' sawbones deserved ever'thing he got from me. I shoulda jist killed him."

"You throw out that gun, Stevenson, and come out here, now."

Dell fired the gun again, the bullet ricocheting off a nearby tree.

Chester whispered, "If he ain't careful, he's gonna hit one of us by accident!"

"As drunk as he is, Chester, that's probably the only way he's gonna hit one of us."

"Why don't we just bust in this door then?"

"I don't want to take a chance that Mary or Cassie would be hit." Dillon yelled to Dell, "I'm not gonna tell you again, Stevenson, throw out that gun."

He fired again, answering, "You're gonna have to kill me, Dillon, I ain't goin' nowhere with you."

"Mr. Stevenson, think about Mary and Cassie, what if one of them is hit by a stray bullet?"

"That ain't my lookout..."

"If it comes from your gun, you'll hang for it."

"I'm gonna hang anyway..." He fired again.

Dillon's stomach was in his throat, and he swallowed hard trying to clear it.

"Mr. Dillon...what'd he mean by that?"

"We've gotta get in there, Chester. Now!"

Matt kicked the door in, and Dell turned as Dillon took aim. Chester watched in horror as both men fired. But Stevenson's shot went wide, while Dillon's hit its mark squarely in the chest. The rifle slid out of Dell's hands as he fell to the floor, dead. Chester glanced around the room, and spotted Mary Stevenson's lifeless body leaning limply against the wall in the corner.

"Oh Mr. Dillon, look..."

Matt followed Chester's gaze, and the foreboding thoughts he had experienced outside doubled as he then glanced toward the bedroom door. The stillness of the small cabin sent a shiver up Goode's spine as reality took hold. For a moment, neither man could move, both knowing what they would find, and what it was going to do to a man whom they deeply respected and loved. Chester swallowed down the emotion that was stinging his eyes, and when he spoke, his voice was so soft, Dillon almost didn't hear him.

"Do you want me to do it, Mr. Dillon?"

Matt turned to Goode then. "Let's both do it, Chester."

Slowly the two men moved toward the bedroom. With a slightly shaky hand, Dillon turned the knob, opening the door. He peered in, and had to fight the sick feeling in his stomach. Chester covered his mouth with his hand, slamming his eyes shut, afraid that he wouldn't be able to keep his supper down. In all of his years as a lawman, Matt Dillon had never seen a woman's body in such a condition, and he felt his eyes fill with tears from an abomination that he would never be able to erase from his memory. Silently, with feet that would barely move, Matt walked to the bed, and picking up a blanket, carefully covered the young girl whose pale blue eyes now stared unseeing into nothingness. He let out a deep breath, and his voice reflected a deep emotion that Chester rarely heard.

"He doesn't see her like this, Chester, understand?"

Goode's voice shook with grief, "Yes, Mr. Dillon." He swallowed, steadying himself. "But you know him, he's going to insist on--"

"--I said no," Dillon's tone was hard as nails, "he doesn't see her like this." He looked into the depths of pained chocolate brown, and softened considerably. "I want you to take both Cassie and Mary in the buckboard to Percy Crump's tonight. Wake him up, and tell him I said to get both bodies nailed into boxes before sunrise."

"Y-yes, Mr. Dillon..."

Matt faced Chester then, putting a comforting hand on his assistant's shoulder. "It's up to us to protect Doc from this, Chester."

Goode's voice was soft, "Well, what are we gonna tell him?"

Matt sighed deeply. "The truth, that Dell killed them. We're just going to spare him the details. He should remember Cassie as she was, not like this."

As they turned to walk back out of the room, Chester said, "No one should have to remember nothin' like this..."

Dillon put his arm around Chester. "Come on, let's bury Dell Stevenson before we head back to Dodge."

"He don't deserve burying."

"Maybe not Chester, but it's the right thing to do, even for a man like Dell Stevenson."

As Dillon patted down the last of the earth with his shovel, he felt the pounding of horse hooves resonating in his feet. He looked up and saw Adams riding full speed toward them, and his heart dropped.

Chester spotted the doctor, and said, "Mr. Dillon, isn't that Doc comin'?"

"Yep."

Panic filled Goode's tone, "Well what are we gonna do?"

Matt shook his head. "Try and keep him outta there, I guess."

"Oh Mr. Dillon..."

Matt looked sadly into Chester's eyes. "I know."

Doc pulled up on his reins when he spotted Chester and Matt finishing what looked like a grave, and his stomach turned. Fear filling him, he stepped off the horse, holding his broken ribs, and he walked toward the two men, stopping between them and the front door of the house.

He couldn't keep the quake from his voice, "Matt?"

"Dell Stevenson, Doc, Chester and I just finished burying him."

Relief filled Doc's heart, "Had ta kill him, huh?"

Chester answered, "Mr. Dillon didn't have no choice."

Doc started for the house. "I'll just check in on Cassie and Mary then."

But the big marshal stood in his way. Adams looked up into the shimmering blue eyes, frowning.

"What are you doin', Matt?"

Dillon's voice was filled with tenderness. "Don't go in there, Doc."

Adams felt as if he had been physically hit in the belly, bending slightly forward with the force of it. A long beat passed by, while Dillon held his breath, waiting to see how the man was going to take it all. Wordlessly, Adams started past Dillon, but Matt took him by the shoulders.

"Doc, I can't let you go in there."

Adams eyes filled with moisture as he looked up into the rugged face of the tall lawman. "I have to, Matt."

"No Doc, you don't; there's nothing more you can do for her." Dillon's tender feelings toward the old doctor spilled out into his words. "I can spare you from this, at least."

Adams held Dillon's eyes for a long time, silently engaging the lawman with his resolve. In the end, Matt understood that he couldn't protect Doc from the truth. Finally Dillon looked away, and Doc brushed past him.

Confused by it, Chester moved toward Matt. "But Mr. Dillon, you cain't let him go in there. He shouldn't see that; you know he shouldn't see it."

Without looking at his assistant, Matt quietly laid a hand on his shoulder. "We have no right to stop him, Chester."

Goode stepped toward the house. "We cain't let him do it alone..."

Matt moved then, holding Chester back. "Do me a favor and hitch up the horse to the buckboard. It might be better if I look after Doc."

Goode nodded and watched Dillon retreat once more into the house. Matt walked past Mary's body, which Chester had covered with a blanket, and he softly moved into the bedroom behind Doc, who was standing as still as a statue, staring at the covered body. Matt put a gentle hand on the smaller man's shoulder.

"You should leave it at this, Doc."

But Adams knew he couldn't leave it alone now, anymore than he could when his own daughter had lain dead, covered on the floor. With a surprisingly steady hand, he reached for the tip of the blanket, gently drawing it back, exposing the young girl's mutilated face, and he was barely able to keep from retching. Her hands were in a defense posture near her neck, frozen for all time in the horror of the violence of her own death. Dillon watched as the old doctor's hand began to shake and a cry of anguish from deep within uttered low from his mouth. And Matt could take no more. He released the corner of the blanket from Doc's hand, replacing it over the young girl's face, and carefully put an arm around Adams, moving him from the room. He sat Doc down in a chair, concerned at the pallor of the man's face, and the discomfort Adams exhibited on his left side.

"Those ribs seem pretty bad off..." Dillon knelt down, unbuttoned Doc's coat, and gently reached under Adam's jacket and vest, running his hand over the swollen area. "They're broken." Adams didn't say anything; he didn't seem to care. "Let's wrap 'em before we head back to Dodge, it'll at least help with the pain."

Doc grabbed Matt's hand then, stopping him. "Leave it." Doc's eyes pierced Matt's. "I want the pain."

Dillon stood then, understanding filling his eyes. He stroked his hand over the back of Doc's head. "This wasn't your fault."

"Yes Matt, it was."

"Doc, you couldn't have--"

"--Matt...I'd like to take both Mary and Cassie back to Dodge in the buckboard."

Matt paused and then nodded. "All right, Chester can drive you."

"No. I'll go alone. You and Chester just be sure to bring back my horse."

"Doc..."

The old man looked up into Matt's face. "I need to do it, Matt."

Doc stood shakily, and fastened up the buttons of his coat, wincing slightly from the jabbing pain in his side.

"How much more jostling do you think those ribs of yours can take?"

Adams pat Dillon's arm affectionately. "I'll be all right, ol' boy, don't worry."

But Matt knew he would worry for a long time to come.