With an agility and speed belying his apparent age, the old man led Matt along the side of the ravine for a distance than turned sharply to the left, into a grove of trees that seemed strangely out of place in the middle of the bald prairie. But then he reminded himself, he and Kitty, following a deaf mute across frozen ground in what was turning into a blizzard, was pretty much out of place as well.
Once inside the protected copse of evergreens, the old man moved even faster if that was possible and hastily steered them to a small cabin hidden snuggly in the middle of the wooded section. Quickly throwing open the door, the old man held it tight against the whipping wind while Matt hurried inside to get Kitty out of the ever deepening snowfall.
Once the door was latched behind them, the old man pointed to a cot sitting at the back of the room, near the large stone fireplace which was merrily blazing away giving the room a soft glow and rich warmth in contrast to the gray frigidness outside.
Swiftly, Matt crossed the short distance to the wide cot and laid Kitty down. "You have any wa..." Matt looked up to see the old man standing beside him with a bowl of water and a soft cloth. "Um, uh, thank you." Matt answered, taking the bowl and cloth.
The old man merely nodded and retreated to a large rocking chair on the other side of the fireplace, sitting down heavily and turning his head to give as much privacy as the small space afforded.
Matt spared him a curious glance before pulling the quilt away from Kitty and gently and quickly ran his hands down her body to check for broken bones and other lacerations. He found more cuts and numerous bruises but nothing broken. By far her worst injuries were a large bump on the back of her head and the deep gash on her leg which looked like it was infected. He was going to have to clean that first.
The wizened old man with deep brown eyes and long white hair and beard stayed in the chair, silently watching the fire, while Matt gently cleaned Kitty's many abrasions, paying particular attention to her leg. Though Matt didn't ask, a couple of times the old man rose, grabbed the bowl, threw out the bloody water and brought it back with more clean water in it. The second time he returned, he also handed Matt several strips of white linen to be used as a bandage for her leg.
Gratefully, Matt accepted the elder man's kindness. "I appreciate your help, mister." Matt said, when he'd finally finished tying the bandage around her leg. "I…"
The white haired gentleman waved a hand and shook his head, interrupting the thanks. Getting up from his chair, he stepped over to his fireplace and lifted an ancient looking tome from the mantle. Carefully he turned the pages of the book until he found the spot he wanted then stepped over to Matt and handed it to him.
Matt accepted the book, realizing it was a bible as he did so. Looking down on the pages, he saw that it had been turned to the book of Luke, chapter ten verses twenty five to thirty seven. The parable of the Good Samaritan. Silently reading the passage, Matt closed the book and handed it back to his host with a nod of his head.
"Who is my neighbor?" The lawyer in the story had asked. Matt realized the old man was telling him he was only being neighborly.
Accepting back the treasured work, the man gave a kind smile and then pointed at Matt and Kitty before rubbing his stomach. Matt understood he was asking if they were hungry. Kitty was still unconscious but he figured she would be hungry when she woke. He refused to think that she wouldn't awaken. And he knew he was hungry, as he hadn't eaten in over twenty four hours.
Matt nodded and started up from the cot. "I'll help you."
But the man clamped a hand on Matt's shoulder and shook his head, pointing down to Kitty then lowering his hand; palm down, to indicate that Matt should stay. Patting his chest, he pointed to a kettle suspended over the fire in the fireplace. Dinner, it appeared, was already cooked, although for the life of him, Matt couldn't remember seeing it when he first came in. But then again, he was a little preoccupied when he came in.
While the old man filled two plates with stew and biscuits, Matt hastily washed his hands and face, checked once more on Kitty then moved over to the small table in the center of the room. The food smelled heavenly and Matt's stomach rumbled when it hit him. "This sure smells good, Mr…" He let it dangle as he didn't know the man's name.
Picking up the bible again, from where he'd laid it, the gentleman turned a number of pages and then laid it down on the table before Matt, pointing to the word Paul then back at himself.
"Your name's Paul?" Matt asked.
Nodding, Paul returned the bible to its sacred spot on the mantle.
Matt was glad to have a name to use at least. Though with him the only one speaking, conversation would still be difficult, it at least gave him a connection with their rescuer. He just wished the man could speak so he could ask him some questions.
Looking around the simple cabin, he saw no desk or any sort of paper in which they could exchange notes. Resigning himself to an extremely quiet evening, Matt dug into the stew, surprised at how good and filling it was. He couldn't ever remember eating anything that good in his life. "This is really good stew, Paul." Matt smiled gratefully. "I really appreciate it."
Paul smiled in returned and shrugged. The men ate in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts, when a small groan was heard from the bed. Matt quickly got up and went over to the cot, sitting down beside her. "Kitty? Honey?"
Kitty didn't reply and didn't make another sound. Matt pressed his hand to her forehead and noted a slight fever but the fact that she hadn't regained consciousness worried him still more. Adjusting the quilt back over her, he stood and returned to the table. As he sat down, he saw Paul watching him intently, and though the kindly old man couldn't speak, Matt could see the question in his expression.
"She…" he stopped and licked his lips. Although telling people that she and he were friends wasn't a lie, he knew it went deeper than that and for some reason to dismiss his concern for her as merely friendship, felt like a lie this time. "She's important to me." He admitted.
The old man got up, poured two steaming cups of coffee and handed one to Matt. As he took his seat again, he pointed at Matt and then cupped both ears, repeating the gesture again. "I'm all ears." He was saying, entreating Matt to talk.
Matt took a sip of coffee, the best he'd ever tasted, and leaned back considering the old man's silent request. Realizing the man couldn't very tell anyone else what he said, and knowing that somehow, this man wouldn't if he could; Matt nodded, sat his cup down, and began. Though he had no idea why, for the first time since he'd known her, Matt began to tell someone, other than Doc, about their very special relationship.
TBC