AN: Thanks Guest Sarah for reading and praising my little story.

Will He or Won't He

Neither the middle-aged physician nor the young redheaded saloon owner acting as his nurse made use of the spare bed during the remaining hours of daylight and far into the night. After those first few sips of water in at least 24 hours, their patient managed to swallow a glassful before very briefly coming to as it became fully dark.

"Kitty, where are we?" he whispered softly, feeling her gentle touch as she laid his head back on the pillow. "Did Pete get to his kin?"

"The answer to both your questions is the Gilbert farm. I'll tell you everything when you're stronger. Doc may not have heard us, but he saw," she added as the physician made his way across the room.

"Doc, I've got to get out of this bed and after those men. Everything depends on me catching them."

"I'll tell you what, Mr. Marshal. If you keep quiet long enough for me to listen to your chest, I won't stop you from trying to sit up without help. Do we have a deal?"

Matt tried but found he could only push himself upright with his one good hand, but even if he'd had the use of both he was too weak from loss of blood and lack of food and water to sit up. Even lifting his head proved taxing. Not only that, but the small amount of movement he was able to force his abused body to make brought about excruciating pain. He gratefully accepted a second glass of water despite the bitter taste of the laudanum dissolved into it.

Matt had fallen into what Doc hoped was a healing sleep when Cora Gilbert knock on the door. She carried a tray with supper for the doctor and his nurse, who she suspected was more than that to the lawman, and a steaming bowl of beef broth for the patient when he was ready for it. Her very tired nephew Pete followed closely after carrying a couple of cups and a coffeepot. Despite the warmth of the mid-September days, the nights were cold, so a few minutes later Rod Gilbert came into the room with an armload of kindling to start a fire in the hearth to keep the room, coffee and broth warm. Once he had it going and sufficient logs piled on the newly constituted family of three bid their guests goodnight.

After eating supper, Doc and Kitty resumed their vigil. They sat in chairs on either side of Matt's bed except when one or the other would leave for calls of nature or to shift the logs in the fireplace to keep the room at an even temperature and make sure neither the coffee nor the broth got cold. Doc did that more often than Kitty, which is why she was the first to notice the change.

"Doc, he feels warm. This fever came on suddenly," she added trying to hide the concern in her voice.

Matt began coughing before Doc could shuffle across the room to his bedside. It also seemed to Kitty that his temperature rose as well. The physician sent her to the kitchen for a bucket of water and cool damp cloths while he listened to his friend's chest. His heartbeat was still strong, but the doctor could hear the congestion in his lungs. The near drowning combined with the blood loss had brought on pneumonia. Even more disturbing than the cough and rising temperature was Matt had become unresponsive.

The patient may have been outwardly calm to the point of immobility save the slight rise and fall of his chest, but his mind was in turmoil. Matt wrestled with the thought that though Peter Patterson was as healthy as any eight-year-old could be expected to be who'd experienced what he had in the last few days, the lawman assigned to deliver him to his aunt and uncle had failed. In his mind it was Pete's ma's sister Cora, her husband Rod, Doc, Kitty and Brad Shumway's last minute reprieve that were responsible for the favorable outcome. All he'd done was allow Shumway to debase and abuse him in hopes it would keep the man from ordering the torture and murder of a child by Gord, Flint or doing it himself. Beyond that, Matt knew those three got clean away with the army's and the ransom money, a clear failure. Heck, he should have stopped them during the stage robbery, preventing the kidnapping. To top it off, even if Pete didn't talk about what they were both subjected to, Kitty would eventually find out about her cowboy's humiliation anyway. How could she possibly want anything to do with him then? Without her beside him why should he go on?

When Kitty went to the kitchen for the water and clean rags she was now using, Pete was asleep in his bed in the corner, but the Gilberts were still awake. They made sure there was an ample supply of cool water available. Additionally, before turning in for the night in their own bedroom Cora carried the extra pillows to prop up Matt's head in an effort to ease his breathing. Since neither woman had a free hand because of what they carried, Rod opened the bedroom door. As soon as they left Kitty focused her attention completely on the man she loved, watching and listening closely.

Kitty bathed his forehead and torso while Doc, sitting at a table across the room, mixed up powders to try to reduce the fever. The redhead more felt than saw Matt's facial muscles tighten. Hearing the delirium induced whispered words of self doubt were superfluous. She knew him too well.

"Took abuse for nothing. Failed oath. Kitty hears … despise me. No better dog acted like."

Matt quieted when Doc approached holding the glass of water with more of the powders dissolved in it. He handed it to Kitty to administer while he checked his patient's pulse and listened to his chest. There was definitely more fluid in his lungs than the left over river water from the near drowning. Even more disturbing, his pulse and heartbeat were weaker while his fever had climbed alarmingly. What he didn't expect was the reaction from the young woman who he'd been training as his nurse so he could pass a skill on to the redhead he saw as a beloved daughter. She'd figured out what lay behind her man's deteriorating condition. Her father figure, doctor or no, was in the way."

"Doc, there's nothing more you can do for him! Go away so I can be alone with him!" she snarled, driving the man with the curly graying hair away.

"I don't care if you can hear me or not Matt Dillon, but you better listen," she whispered in his ear as soon as the doctor left the bedside. "I don't know what you were forced to do, but doing it didn't make you a failure or less of a man. Saving the life of a child is a big success in my book! Catching those three and getting the money back will take more time, but it'll happen. You don't need to be the one to do it!"

Kitty continued to rail at Matt whenever Doc was out of earshot. As much as the older man loved them there were some things a girl only shared with the man who shared her bed. The physician, who wanted nothing more than to see the couple married so they could give him grandchildren to spoil, understood that the medicine only she could provide was what would restore the man's will to live. He willingly gave them their privacy.

Doc, despite wanting to give the couple as much privacy as possible, continued to check on Matt every hour. The only positive observation he made was at least the lawman's condition wasn't worse. His temperature remained at 103 throughout the rest of the night. As the first rays of the sun poked through the room's east-facing window, Kitty, who'd kept a steady hold on her man's right hand, tried yet again to reach into his mind.

"Listen up Cowboy. I risked my share of the Long Branch to get you back. I won't believe the man who gave me the strength to be an owner instead of just a saloon girl would give up on life. If he did I'm not sure I'd want to remain in Dodge, but I'd find a way to pay off the bank loan no matter what it took. Please, for my sake, remember you did what you had to do to survive and not betray that damn oath. That's nothing to be ashamed of. It's one reason I love you."

It had to be her imagination, but Kitty could swear she felt his skin cool. She was about to call Doc over from where he sat staring into the dying fire when Matt gently squeezed her hand and turned his head to face her.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" he asked with surprising strength, obviously not wanting her to answer. "Seems you still want me in your life. Much as I didn't want to I never could deny you that. I reckon I'll just have to live, but if I'm gonna do that I need breakfast. Care to join me?"

"What's going on here?" Doc asked, appearing on the opposite side of the bed with a cup of tepid beef broth in his right hand. "Drink this down. Then we'll see if you're ready to join this beautiful young lady and me for a real breakfast. If you are, we'll request room service."