RESCUED: CHAPTER 16

Glad as he was to finally have Frank settled in a comfortable room at Henry Ranch, the day was wearing on Matt. He'd watched Susan gently sponge bathe him, he'd helped her ease him into some clean underclothes. He'd held Frank up over and over again while she gently spooned the tiniest of ice chips between his lips, watching only part of the water escaping into his mouth while the rest ran down his chin. When the chills took over, she gently covered him with a flannel sheet and traded the ice chips for hot tea. Sitting indoors nursing the sick wasn't exactly his specialty, and he was getting frustrated. As the sun started to lose its battle with the horizon, he finally spoke his mind.

"Susan, please let me try to help. Frank and I know each other like brothers."

"Matt Dillon, is there something wrong with that big stuffed chair?"

Susan Henry had one hand perched menacingly on her hip while she used the other to point to what was indeed a cushy-looking manly-man chair the boys had dragged into Frank's room so Matt could stay with him.

"Of course not. You've been more than kind. It's just that I might could help you bring him around so maybe you can get more of that liquid in him."

"You want me to leave?"

He was stunned at her offer. "NO! You're an amazing nurse! I don't have a fraction of your patience. It's just that it'll probably be two days before Doc Adams gets here. He drives a buggy and that old wagon road is a mess."

"Well, Frank sure does need a doctor. That thing on his chest is like nothing I've ever seen. It's big as a walnut. And I've got no experience with the kind of wounds he's got all over his arms and legs. I hope he makes it till the doc gets here, Matt."

While Susan watched, Matt pulled the flannel down and looked at Frank's chest. The skin where the badge had been looked like a snakebite. And Susan was right, it had doubled in size since the night before. He studied it carefully, and when he put his fingers on it, the heat was astonishing.

"I put hot poultices on that and tried to squeeze it, Matt, but it just got uglier." She said.

He pulled his jackknife out of his pocket and handed it to her, realizing he'd have a few minutes to muster the courage he needed.

"Put this over fire so it's clean."

"Matt, you're not gonna . . ." But he cut her off, not wanting to hear the rest.

"Please, Susan, put it over fire."

He raised Frank up and slapped his cheek hard.

"Frank! It's Matt! I'm gonna help you. Can you hear me?"

"Maaattt!" It took all of Frank's breath to say.

"It's gonna hurt like hell, Frank. Like the time I dug that bullet out of your leg."

He was almost sure Frank heard him, so he slapped him again.

"Damn!" Was all Frank could manage.

"You hear me?"

"Cabron!"

It was almost like trying to communicate with a mute. But just that one sordid word convinced him that Frank could hear him. He eased him down on the pillow again, then turned up the lantern and waited until Susan entered the room with the knife and a pan of hot water, then pulled the globe off the lantern and put the knife directly into the flame again.

"I cleaned it for three minutes over the stove, Matt. You mind if I watch?"

"Watch? I thought I'd hold him while you open that thing."

He had a moment of doubt while he looked at her face which had instantly paled at the thought. But this was a frontier woman with years of experience nursing cowboys, and he knew she could do it.

"I'll try."

Matt got a strong grip on Frank's arms: arms weakened by dehydration, hunger, and pain. Susan pulled the knife from the lantern.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

Matt cursed himself for forgetting to tell her to poke one of the holes, but it didn't matter. She had that uncanny ability to know what to do. She slit into a hole quick as a flash, then jumped back when Frank tried to come up out of the bed to attack her. Matt held fast, listening to his best friend's scream while blood-tinged yellow goo oozed from the fresh wound. While Frank writhed under Matt's grip, Susan quickly pulled a cloth out of the hot water and pressed it on the site, eliciting a final curse from her patient just before he lost consciousness again.

Silence filled the room while Susan and Matt stared at each other until she carefully pulled the steaming cloth from the wound. It was filled with the goo, but the lump was still big and horrifically red. Without hesitation, Matt let go his grip, trying to quiet his heart while Susan retrieved a fresh cloth and put it on Frank's forehead. In any other life, this woman could have been a nurse. But like she'd said, he needed a doctor.

"We tried, Matt." She whispered. "How can that thing still be so big?"

He couldn't answer, maybe because he'd already wondered that, but also because he knew time was running out for Frank. His mind twisted in knots, wondering if he should have just kept Frank in the wagon and gone straight to Dodge. No, that wasn't a choice. Frank would never have survived the trip over that miserable road and another day in the sun. His only chance to fight the fever and the pain was this soft bed and attentive care. Maybe he should have been the one to head up to Dodge for Doc. Buck was too exhausted to make the trip, but he could have begged a horse from the Henrys. What good would that do? Dave had sent one of his best men. This way at least Frank knew he was close by. Maybe . . . should have . . . what if . . . probably shouldn't have tried to lance that thing. He slumped into the big chair, lost in all the questions he couldn't answer.

"Matt, Dave wants to talk with you over supper, and I think you need to get out of this room for a bit. I'll have Phyllis come in and sit with him. She can put more poultices on that and try to keep it open."

He nodded wordlessly at Susan and followed her out of the room, suddenly realizing he was hungry as hell. It'd be good to sit with friends and unwind. But he knew Dave would want to dump his problems with the settlers and their encroaching wire on him. Open grazers were increasingly disappearing just like the Indians. There was only so much the law could do about the settlers. It was a hopeless situation, charged with protecting their rights and offering hope to a rancher he'd known and respected the entire time he'd worked in Kansas. Maybe it would help get his mind to stop spinning, wondering what he'd do if he lost his best friend . . . and the man who would be marshal when he retired.

Any time a rancher had company for supper, it was a long one, and this was no exception. The prime steak meal was exceptional, the conversation stimulating if not heated at times. Finally, Dave pulled the brandy out of the cupboard and motioned Matt into the parlor so the men could talk privately. Dave was in the middle of prodding Matt to send soldiers from Fort Dodge to deal with the renegades, hopeful that he'd have a first-hand understanding of the need now, when Phyllis showed up unannounced.

"Mister Dillon, he's awake." She announced matter of factly.

Matt couldn't believe it. Awake? He stood quickly, ignoring Dave.

"What?"

"Well, he came in and out for a while. He's awake right now if you want to see him. I'm after some broth to see if he can take that."

He wanted to take Phyllis into his arms and kiss her. It was like an invitation to see the president! His giant strides covered the distance from the parlor to the guest bedroom quickly, and sure enough, there was Frank, half awake with eyes at half mast, but it didn't matter. He sat carefully on the edge of the bed and wanted to shout out loud when Frank's eyes focused on him.

"Big Marshal Man!" Frank managed. "What's for supper?"

"Broth. It's on the way!"

"Broth, your ass!"

It sure was Frank. Even if he lost focus and rolled his head to the side, it was Frank.

"You feelin' better?" He was talking to the back of Frank's head. Didn't matter: He was talking to Frank.

Frank drew a shallow breath. "I hurt more places . . . than I knew I had."

A woman on a mission, Phyllis entered the room without so much as knocking. All hundred pounds of her pushed Matt aside, and she took her seat on the edge of the bed with her bowl of hot broth. The aroma drifted over Frank's nose, and in no time she had his undivided attention. Not to be denied, Matt held Frank's head up while she spooned it into his mouth. This time, a hundred percent of the stuff was going into his mouth.

"Slow down, Mister Frank," she admonished. "Slow down now, you don't wanna choke."

"Don't wanna die," he mumbled between sips. "How 'bout a whiskey, lady?"

"Okay, Frank. That's enough. This nice woman brought you around. She's not fetchin' you whiskey."

Matt put his hand on Frank's forehead like he'd seen Doc do so many times. It was hot but no longer felt like it was on fire. Then he pulled the sheet down and looked at the ugly lump on Frank's chest while his friend followed him with his eyes.

"You touch that again, I'll kill 'ya." Frank growled.

"Just lookin'. I've done my touchin'.

"You sure as hell have!" Frank grumbled.

"Water."

"THAT I can do, Mister Frank," Phyllis smiled. She took the bowl and spoon and headed off to the kitchen to fill the request.

XOXOXO

Doc knew where she'd be at this hour. Same place she'd have been before that overgrown public servant had married her, worrying and fretting herself into a tizzy about whether he was okay. Matt had set down plenty of rules about her time at the Long Branch: Rules that were easy to break when he wasn't sitting at their back table next to her. He walked in and threaded his way through the crowd of cowboys to join her, only to find the table occupied by five happy trailhands engaged in a poker game. He rubbed his face and scanned the room. And there she was: A ravishing redhead working behind the bar right alongside Sam Noonan, refilling drinks, joking and laughing with the cowboys. He sidled up to the bar and found a spot on her end. Sam just grinned, knowing what he wanted. He walked to her, gave her a nudge and pointed to Doc. Instantly, she was across the counter from him, wiping it off and setting up a clean glass.

"Hello Doctor! What'll it be?" Her eyes sparkled like diamonds in the smoke-filtered lantern light.

"Beautiful new dress, Kitty!"

"You like it? Matt picked it out for me in San Francisco." The sparkle in her eyes was getting brighter. Only a physician would have known moist eyes were causing it.

"I like it. Any man would. A little risqué on the top there, and those straps are just beggin' to be tugged at."

"I'm BEHIND the bar, Curly. Nobody's gonna do any tugging."

If you can spare some time for me, I'd like to talk to you."

She swallowed hard and leaned in close to him, leaving the fantasy she'd lost herself in. "I'm all ears."

"You've been here all day?"

"I have. It's my bar."

He brushed her off with a wave of his hand. "Not that. Then you haven't heard the news."

Her breath caught in her throat. "WHAT NEWS?! WHAT?!"

"Bodkin got the money from Kansas City today, just like he said he would. Pinkerton boys brought it in on the train. The bank's whole again, Kitty. He tried to find you at your house but you weren't . . . well, you weren't home."

Of course, she should have guessed that Matt hadn't come home. If he had, she'd have seen him come through those batwings like a whirlwind looking for her. But she'd had that one fleeting moment of hope. Her eyes softened pensively.

"That's good, Curly. That's real good. Now what can I get you?"

"You're not excited? You saved the bank!"

"I most certainly did NOT save the bank! Every citizen had a hand in it. Bodkin said the money would come. All I did was help some folks to be patient."

"Whiskey, please, barkeep." He needed to gather his thoughts for the next round. Before she could pour his drink, the cowboy next to him tapped his glass on the bar.

"Hey Red! You been talkin' to that old man long enough. I need another!"

Doc stood up tall, ready to take on a man forty years his junior. "She's my daughter, mister. I'll talk to her as long as I choose."

Kitty knew how to quiet a trailhand, so she filled his glass before she filled Doc's.

"This one's on the house, cowboy. I'm sorry. Haven't seen my father in quite a while." It satisfied the man, and he went right back to his conversation with his buddy standing next to him. Sam was running the bar at double speed, but when he got down to Kitty's end he bent over her ear.

"Take all the time you and Doc need, Miss Kitty. I've got this."

Kitty leaned in close to Doc again. "Were you busy at the office today?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. A guy with some broken fingers, a kid with a sprained ankle, and one concussion. Some cowboy got bucked off in the pens. Nothing profitable, that's for sure. I think that idiot Haggen might have been right. No gunshot wounds, no knifings. These guys are about done for the season. Thought I might take you to supper."

"I wouldn't be very good company. Soon as half of these guys clear out, I'm going home."

"Where's Lily?"

"Busy elsewhere. Excuse me a minute."

Doc watched as she transformed into an actress, making another graceful trip up and down the bar, stopping in front of each customer to supply a refill and some cheerful conversation. A few of the shyer guys even got a soft smile and her gentle hand on an arm. Her allure was irresistible: had been since she'd first worked this place as a slip of a girl so many years ago. Now here she was in her prime, even more captivating with accentuated curves, a big gold ring claiming her for the man who loved her, the rosy glow of motherhood adorning her face. She was an expert at the game, on stage performing in her role as hostess, charming each man she touched, while she skillfully hid the anxiety that always haunted her when Matt was out on the prairie.

Yet another skill: her ability to pick right back up in a conversation that had paused twenty minutes prior. Matt had that same skill. Sometimes it threw a man off track. Doc wondered if he and Kitty ever used that on each other.

"Lily's not working right now. I gave her a different job when I picked Sara up from Ava's. Follow me!"

Kitty led Doc to the office door and rapped lightly on it.

"Lily, can I let myself in? I have Doc with me."

"Of course, Kitty." Came a cheerful voice from inside. "Come right on in!"

Kitty turned her key in the lock and opened the door that separated a room full of bar customers from her precious child. And there they were, Lily and Sara sitting on the floor playing with the colorfully painted set of blocks Ava had delivered from the school. The smile on Lily's face told the whole story: The baby had worked her magic once again! Puppies, kittens and babies all shared the gift, all of them either happy or asleep, with no middle ground. At the sight of her mother, Sara knocked all the stacked blocks to the ground in one swift motion, laughing with joy at her accomplishment while she reached her chubby little arms up to her mother. Kitty picked her up and gave her a big kiss, payment in full for a job well done. Doc helped Lily up, and there they all were: three adults and one little enchantress without a care in the world.

"Lily, thank you! She had such fun with you while I worked the bar."

"My goodness, Kitty. She made my whole afternoon! You're not taking her home yet, are you?"

"She needs to eat, and then it's her bedtime," Kitty said softly.

Lily looked up at the clock. "I had no idea it was so late! Wow, Kitty, we just . . ."

"Yeah, I know. That happens to me all the time. She has a magical talent for making time fly, that's for sure."

Little Sara started squirming in Kitty's arms. She was getting too big to hold for a long time when she struggled, so Kitty decided to let her show off one more time before she and Lily traded places for the evening. She stood her daughter up next to Doc's left foot, and they all watched the tiny girl squeal with delight and attach her arms to his leg, looking up into his eyes like an actress waiting for applause. Kitty laughed and coached Doc through it.

"Matt taught her that, Doc. It's her favorite game with him. Now you take a slow step and watch how she hangs onto your leg!"

"Kitty, I'm not sure she'll be able to . . ." But Kitty cut him off. "Just try it. She's strong!"

"By thunder!" Sara's grandpa was just as delighted as the baby. Then they all watched quietly while he took two more small steps, then scooped Sara up into his arms. She rewarded him with several quick slaps to his neck.

"Hey! What now, little one?"

"She wants you to take her dancing. Just twirl her around a little, you'll see."

Doc swept the improvised dance floor with his tiny partner in his arms, grinning from ear to ear. "I suppose this is something Matt taught her too."

"Indeed." Kitty wore a wistful expression just thinking about how Matt and his daughter related. "She's definitely her Daddy's girl."

"Kitty." Lily interrupted. "Let's do this again tomorrow! You and Sara have been lifesavers."

Kitty drew a deep breath. "Lily, I'll try. Just the thought of another day behind that bar makes my feet hurt."

"Oh, losing your touch are you, Mrs. Dillon?" Doc teased.

"More like losing my interest. Besides, most of the trailhands should be out of Dodge before this time tomorrow. The herd's almost all shipped out. Time to head back to Texas for the winter."

Her own words gave her a private chill. Nights were preparing the prairie for winter: one cool, the next downright cold, then the cycle repeating itself. Matt needed to be home soon. Frank too.

tbc