After the Storm 7
I don't own these characters; I just like to spend time with them. No other profit to be had than that.
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(Two Months Later)
Matt sat impatiently watching the small run down cabin in the clearing just below, while he and Chester crouched on a small ridge above. Though the day had been fairly warm, the air was turning colder with a strong north wind. The ground he crouched on was hard and uncomfortable.
But Matt ignored the discomfort as he studied the little building below. He had worked hard and waited a very long time for this, and he was going to enjoy every moment of what was to happen.
Chester took a sideways glance at his boss, a frown working its way across his face. He had a feeling he knew what was on the Marshal's mind, and he didn't blame him in the slightest. As a matter of fact he was going to do all he could to help him, legally or not. But he knew in the frame of mind his boss was in right now, things could get dangerous real quick.
"What are you thinkin,' Mr. Dillon?" Chester asked, pulling his coat a little tighter around him as the wind picked up. "You reckon them fellers down there are gonna come out anytime soon?" He jerked his head in the direction of the cabin.
Matt shook his head. "No I don't, Chester" he answered. "They think they're safe down there, so I figure they'll probably wait till in the morning before they make any moves."
"Are we gonna wait till mornin'?" Chester already knew the answer to that.
Again Matt shook his head. "Nope," he answered. "I think eight months is long enough to wait. Don't you?"
Chester could see the determination in the big man's eyes, but he also saw the hate and anger. "You aren't gonna give em' no chance, are you?" He already knew the answer to that one too.
Matt glanced over at Chester, his jaw clenched tight, but he didn't respond as he turned his angry blue eyes back towards the decrepit little shack. His heart was pounding and his mouth was dry at the thought of what he was about to do, but he was resolute.
The men in that small structure had wreaked havoc on his life, and he was going to make them pay dearly for it. Whether his upcoming actions would be construed as legal and a part of his duties or not, he did not care. He was beyond caring about that.
Matt tightened his grip on the rifle in his hands. "I think it's about time." He said. "Let's go."
As one, the two men rose and quietly made their way down the slight incline to the rotting building sheltering the renegades inside.
As they stood before the small structure both men exchanged looks. Each seeing friendship and trust in the other's expression. They had a job to do and they were going to get it done.
Without another word, the men squared their shoulders and hit the door and lone window of the decaying building as one unit. They were not about to give the men inside, any chances. They didn't deserve them.
Firing their weapons as they entered they were momentarily stunned to see the men inside with guns at the ready and firing back. But it made no difference. The battle was short lived.
When the smoke cleared, three men lay dead on the floor of the cabin. Matt was leaning heavily against the door frame, clutching his shoulder, his face contorted in pain, as Chester carefully checked each man to verify their demise.
"They're dead, Mr. Dillon" he said solemnly. "Ever last one of em had a gun aimed at us when we come in. I wonder how they knew we were here."
Matt grimaced at the throbbing pain in his shoulder as he shook his head. "I don't know, Chester" he answered, "and to tell you the truth, I don't really care."
Chester straightened back up and looked over at his boss in concern. Stepping over one of the bodies, he moved over to Matt and inspected his wound. "We gotta get you back to town, Mr. Dillon. This shoulder of yours don't look none too good."
"It'll be alright" Matt shrugged him off, even though by the feel of it he wasn't so sure. "We've gotta get these men back into town."
Chester shook his head. "No sir, you're in no shape, now you just go on ahead and sit down there on that chair. I'll take care of these here fellers."
Matt started to protest but the pain in his shoulder wouldn't let him. "Alright, Chester," he said, weakly moving over to the chair. "Thanks. I appreciate you doing this. It means a lot to me."
Matt's words conveyed more than a simple gratitude for his friend's taking care of the dead men, and Chester knew it. "Aww shucks," Chester muttered in embarrassment, as he turned to the work at hand.
Sitting there, as he watched Chester haul the men away, Matt's mind turned to Kitty. He had finally found the men responsible for the threats and attacks, and they were now dead. Though he had no doubt there might be other men somewhere, with some other grudge against him, he wasn't going to worry about them.
The despicable men that had forced him to push away his reason for living were now all dead. Breathing deeply for the first time in a long time, Matt's mind centered on her. Not for the first time he wondered where she was right that second, what she was doing and with whom.
He knew the baby was here by now and would be about two months old unless….. He shook his head to clear it of that thought. He had done too much, worked too hard, suffered too much, and more importantly made her suffer too much, to even contemplate the thought.
Sitting there stiffly, watching Chester pulling the last man out, Matt made a decision.
He was going to Boston. He was going to find her, and if the God above would allow it, he would bring her and his child home, where they belonged.
TBC