The Book
Chapter 3Adams enjoyed his day. Even the ride in the old buggy was pleasant. The sun had warmed the afternoon air enough that he removed his jacket and drove along in his shirtsleeves. A little later he removed his string tie and undid the top buttons of his old white shirt. Life sure felt good.
The drive out to the cabin took him about two hours. He pulled up beside the front door, climbed the two steps to the porch and went on in. Nothing had changed since he was here last. He brought the few things he had in the buggy into the cabin and took care of the horse, then stored his fishing gear on the front porch. Once he got the fire going he put the coffee pot on, pulled up one of the two old chairs and sat down with the book he had brought with him. He ran his hand over the soft leather binding. There was an image of a huge sea creature embossed in the leather, highlighted with gold and red. The title of the book was also raised and like the image it was emphasized with gold and tooled in flowing script, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. He had been waiting to read this for over a year now, the time had finally come. Carefully he opened the book, his steady, sensitive hands appreciating its character. He read for maybe an hour, by which time he had finished the coffee. Taking his book he went to the porch and collected his fishing pole and headed down to the stream.
The sun was getting lower in the sky now and he hoped to catch something that would make good eating for supper. He baited the hook and threw the line in the water, there was a convenient log to lean back on so he seated himself on the ground and opened his book to continue reading. He got quite involved with Professor Aronnax and his assistant Conseil as they boarded the frigate Abraham Lincoln, and joined Captain Farragut to look for the savage sea monster that was destroying big ships and terrorizing the oceans. Doc was on the frigate with them as they left Brooklyn Pier, and headed south. After 3 weeks the Farragut crossed the tropic of Capricorn and was sailing along the coast of Patagonia, heading towards the waters of the Pacific.
About an hour had passed during which time the physician was totally engrossed in his reading. A pull on his line brought him back to the present, alerting him that he had a catch. Hauling it in he found a reasonable sized catfish on the hook. It was four chapters later before he caught his second. The pair would make excellent eating for supper.
He closed the leather bound volume and sat staring at the water. He felt as if he was alone in the world, no one was sick, he had no responsibilities, nobody looking to him to perform some miracle that was way beyond the capabilities of modern medicine. It was like a weight was gone from his shoulders. He knew it could not last; just two or three days would be enough though. Surely that was not too much to ask for.
Before leaving the water's edge he cleaned his catch, then gathered up his gear and headed back to the cabin.
Supper eaten, enjoyed, then cleared away, he took the bottle of fine whisky he had brought from Dodge and poured himself a generous measure. It reminded him for an instant of sitting round the table in the Long Branch with his friends. Maybe he should have told them what he had planned - but they may have tried to stop him coming here, or worse still tried to come with him. He felt a little guilty about Matt, maybe he should have stayed in Dodge another day or so to make sure the Marshal was going to be alright, but then something else would have come up and his short vacation would have been put on hold again.
The fire was still burning in the hearth so once more he settled to read the book. No interruptions, no one came knocking on his door needing medical attention. It was not that he disliked his work. Indeed he was passionate about it, he had even brought two of the latest journals to read once he had finished the novel, but sometimes the pressure got to him. There was no relief, no one he could confer with, he was the top of the pyramid, everyone looked to him for strength, but he had nowhere to go for comfort, support or encouragement.
Finally he closed the leather bound volume and set it carefully on the old weathered kitchen table. Taking the pillow and quilt he had brought with him from Dodge, he made himself comfortable on the small bed built into the corner of the room. There was a second room with a bigger bed, but he liked it here where he could watch the dying embers of the logs fading in the hearth.
O0O0O0O0O
Back in Dodge, Matt and Kitty were watching the dying embers of the stove in Kitty's room. The Brandy made them feel warm and relaxed.
"Come on Cowboy, Doc said I had to see you got plenty of rest."
She goes over to the big brass bed and pulls the covers back.
"Please don't fuss at me Kitty, Doc has been doing that for days."
"He was worried about you, Matt, more than I've ever seen him before. In fact he looked quite worn out himself when I saw him earlier. Here," she notices him trying to ease out of his shirt, "let me help you with that."
She eases the faded red shirt from his left shoulder and looks at the wound.
"It seems to be healing fine, when did Doc say he would take those stitches out?"
"He said another two or three days."
She looks at the other wound just above waist level on this right side. "Maybe I should clean that for you, it still looks a little red and inflamed." She noticed the small amount of blood on the light dressing that Doc had applied. Not a good location for a wound, she would be willing to bet that it was getting irritated by the leather belt that held his pants up.
He submitted to her ministrations but objected the whole time - mainly to disguise the pain as she cleaned it with some of the solution Doc had given her for the purpose. Finally she applied a clean dressing to cover the incision.
It took a few minutes to put away the left over bandages and solution, but when that was done she started her own night time ritual of letting her hair loose and brushing it, then she disappeared behind the small screen to change into a pale blue nightgown.
Dillon managed to watch her every move, even though it took a great effort to keep his eyes open. He felt like he needed to be next to her, but tiredness and the effects from the brandy prevented him from rising from the bed. Finally she came to join him and carefully pulled the covers up over both of them before turning to kiss his lips.
He wanted to respond to her, but somehow he was too tired and all he wanted was to sleep. She settled back on the pillows but was scared to lie close to him, not wanting to cause him pain. It wasn't long before his hand came looking for her.
"Come closer to me, I need to feel you beside me." His voice was quiet and his words mumbled. Carefully she inched a little closer until he seemed happy, she felt him relax and shortly after that his steady breathing indicated that he was sleeping.
"Sweet dreams, Marshal." she whispered.
TBC