Chapter 15

I really wanted to be there when Matt and Kitty arrived home, but as luck would have it, that wasn't to be. Babies tend to arrive at the most inconvenient times and trains often get delayed. It so happened that the baby in question arrived ten days early and the train from Denver arrived four hours late. Those two events coincided which meant that I was out at Red Sutter's place the following afternoon instead of being at the train depot as I'd planned. Of course I was used to such disappointments, but these particular passengers were very special to me and missing their arrival home was a little frustrating. I passed Newly coming out of the marshal's office as I was leaving town and explained the situation. The deputy assured me that both he and Festus would be there to meet the marshal and his party with a wagon and see that they all got home safely.

Reluctantly, I headed south. It wasn't far to Red Sutter's farm. He'd worked hard and along with his brother they'd managed to make quite a success with a few feed crops and a medium sized cattle herd. When Paul Sutter, Red's brother, came to get me I knew I didn't have much time to get out there. This was Ellen's third child so her labor would probably be short. I'd last seen her about a month ago and had been a little concerned about the position of the baby. The only thing I could do was hurry out there as quickly as was safe. All the time I rode in that old buggy, Matt and Kitty were in the back of my mind, but that is where they had to stay for now. If this did turn out to be a breach delivery I would need to keep all my wits about me and my mind focused on the job in hand. At least I was forewarned and had time to grab the necessary forceps and push them into my medical bag before leaving.

()()()

I was tired when I got back to town. Fortunately, Moss's young stable boy was still awake and he came to collect the buggy from outside my office so I didn't have to walk home. I should have been satisfied that the difficult delivery went as well as it did, but I was too distracted by thinking of my friends and hoping they were safely back in town. I thought of going to the Long Branch or the marshal's office but figured they'd be as tired as I was. Tomorrow would have to do.

I poured a shot of whisky into the only clean glass I could find and sat at my desk. I needed to unwind for a few minutes before going to bed.

A soft knock at the door brought me to my feet. Maybe it was Matt coming to tell me what happened in Denver, but I would have heard him climbing the stairs. Jeffrey Lassiter was standing there. I couldn't miss the sling supporting his left arm.

"I see you've been hanging out with those two reprobate lawmen," I said pointing to the device supporting his arm. I invited him in.

"Partly my fault, I assure you." he replied with an awkward attempt at a smile. I noticed a slight pallor to his face. It was all the more obvious because of the tousled mop of tow colored hair he sported.

Suddenly I wasn't tired anymore. Maybe I could at least find out part of what had gone on in Denver - and more importantly confirm that my friends were safe.

"Sit down and tell me about it." I gestured to the chair by my desk and lifted the whiskey bottle, silently asking if he wanted to join me.

"Just a small one Doc," he replied.

I poured a generous "small one" into a coffee mug, apologizing for the fact I had no more clean shot glasses, then sat in my usual chair.

"So what happened to your arm?"

"I got a knife wound. Dr. Harrington took care of it for me but apparently he didn't find the surgery easy. He said there was quite a bit of muscle damage but that blade might well have pierced the lung if my ribs hadn't deflected it. He told me to avoid hanging out with lawmen in future."

"Good advice! I'm guessing all of you made it made it home safely?" I needed to hear that my friends were back home in Dodge, where they belonged. I watched as he used his right hand to ease the weight of his left arm in the sling and then tried to settle more comfortably in the chair. Before he began to answer he took a swallow or two of whiskey from the coffee mug.

"Yes, we got in an hour or so ago. The marshal and Sheriff Hockley had been taking turns watching over the prisoners in the baggage car. I wasn't really much use to anyone but I wanted to come back here now that my time at the clinic was over. Dr. Harrington did tell me I could stay on longer to make up for the weeks I missed, but ... well you know that's not my kind of medicine. Sheriff Hockley and Newly took the prisoners to the jail while Festus brought the rest of us back to the Long Branch. Miss Russell and the marshal decided it was a little late to come visiting you tonight, so would see you in the morning. I went to Ma Smalley's but this," he carefully put his good hand to his ribs, "was really hurting. That's why I came to see if you wouldn't mind taking a look at it."

"Of course I'll do that. Let me put a few instruments in to boil - it's been a busy week."

I got up and added another log to the stove. It had burned down so much that the fire was little more than embers. I put a pair of forceps, some scissors and a hemostat in a pan of water and left it there to heat up. While we were waiting, Jeffrey continued telling me what went on in Denver.

"I guess Miss Russell wrote to you that I managed to get tickets to the Elitch Theatre to see a performance of The Barber of Seville."

"Yes she did. She seemed very excited."

"It was an excellent production and we all enjoyed it - although maybe I'm not too sure about Marshal Dillon and Sheriff Hockley - I don't think either of them knew what to expect from the opera. Somehow they snuck out on Miss Russell and me before the final curtain. When the audience started to leave I took her to the small bar off of the theatre foyer thinking we might find them there." He paused trying to ease his arm into a more comfortable position again.

"You can tell me the rest later if you like."

I'd pulled my pocket watch out and set it on the desk so I could time the sterilization procedure. "Let me check your pulse," I said, reaching for his wrist. He didn't object. "What do you think?" he asked after a suitable time had elapsed.

"It's a little rapid for a young man of your age. You probably lost some blood. You want me to take a look now?"

He reached for the whiskey bottle. "I'll take a little more of this first if you don't mind."

"I've got some laudanum if you need it."

He shook his head. "Let me tell you what happened in Denver. It'll take my mind off it while you get those instruments ready." He poured another shot into the white coffee mug. "Harrington did warn me that I should wait a day or two before traveling, but of course I didn't listen."

I decided to leave the bottle where he'd set it just in case he needed a little more.

"Where was I?" He squeezed the bridge of his nose with his right hand as if trying to clear his head. "Oh yes, Miss Russell and I sat in the bar until we were almost the last ones there. I had no idea what had happened to our lawmen. The marshal had said something to me earlier in the evening about seeing that Miss Russell was safe if he wasn't around. Of course I didn't know what he meant at the time."

He paused to take breath or two. I could tell he was tired and I was certain the whiskey was also doing its job. "Anyway, I decided to take Miss Russell back to the hotel. I hailed a cab... helped her in and was just stepping in myself when I heard a woman's scream. It came from somewhere close by and she sounded frantic... I was torn, Doc. I'd promised to take care of Miss Russell but someone else was in trouble too."

I watched as he struggled to lift the whiskey bottle. His sense of coordination was really off and I was about to help him pour another shot. Somehow he managed to get the liquid into the mug but he needed my help to keep the bottle upright while placing it back on the desk. I'd never seen him do more than sip on hard liquor before so I wasn't surprised.

"I think...I thought..." I waited patiently as he struggled to get the words out, "she understood my...my dilemma - she told me she'd be fine, Doc. I didn't have...there was no time. I remember paying the driver and telling him to see that the lady got safely inside the hotel before he left her."

"What happened then?" I was tempted to finish the whiskey still sitting in my shot glass but decided against it. I didn't know what kind of problem I would find when I looked at Jeffrey's wound. Maybe I would need to attempt some kind of surgery. There was still another five minutes left for my instruments to boil so I sat and listened as my young colleague did his best to recall the rest of his story.

"The screams were coming from a side street... I ran towards the sound as fast as I could... saw a man trying to grab a young woman, she was putting up a good fight to keep him away." Jeffrey was struggling to get his words out so I waited patiently knowing that at least he wasn't feeling much pain now. "Someone was running towards them. I could tell it was the marshal..." He paused to take a breath again then looked up, searching my eyes as if he wanted me to finish his sentence. "You know... that slightly irregular gait... I knew it was him. He caught up with them. I watched him pull the man off."

He stopped and supported his head with his one free hand. I thought he was going to slump forward onto the desk so I reached out to steady him. ''You alright Jeffrey?" I asked gently.

He nodded. "Thanks Galen." I noticed the whiskey had relaxed him enough that he used my given name. He was determined to continue telling me what had happened. Something that had become a frequent and expected occupational hazard to Matt Dillon was far removed from the world of Dr. Jeffrey Lassiter. He'd never experienced a bullet or knife wound first hand and had a need to talk about it. I tried to calm my own desire to know what happened while waiting for him to continue.

"There was a second man. I didn't see where he came from but he was running towards the marshal. He had a knife in his hand... blade flashed in the light... didn't know what to do. If I called out it might distract the marshal from the man he already had on the ground. I remember running towards them... When I got close ... second man was lifting the knife ready to strike. He would have stabbed the woman or the marshal for sure."

He stopped and pulled the mug containing the last drop of whiskey towards him. He stared at it for a moment then raised it to his lips and gulped that last mouthful down. I thought he was going to lose his balance and reflexively my arm went out to keep him in the chair. He waved me off with the now empty coffee mug.

"I want to fi'sh telling you." His speech was noticeably slurred now and I was glad that no one else was around to hear him. Strong liquor was something Jeffrey Lassiter had never taken to. "I was jush... few feet behind him..had to jump on man's back. He turn'd roun' shumhow on me an' pushed th' knife into my shoulder. Never knew pain like that... thought I was going to pash out... marshal there too. He'd took care of firsh assailant who was flat on the ground. Never forget sight of hish face on the sidewalk... large bruise on ... jaw ...blood coming from corner of his mouth." He paused, his words came in short bursts as if he was having trouble putting them together. "Someone else there... Sheriff Hockley... out of breath from running. He and the marshal talking. I was... kind of dazed but... saw they had both men handcuffed...Sheriff had his gun out. I remember him shaying he'd take the pair to jail and hope the local law would be good enough to watch over them. The marshal somehow got my good arm over his shoulder and...wash holding me up with the other. I remember thinking about his back but couldn't do much to help. Just getting ...legs to move was ..challenge."

He stopped to take a breath and drag his alcohol muddled mind away from the scene. This young man had led a somewhat sheltered life and I doubt he'd ever succumbed to alcohol before. It had taken a surprisingly small amount to get him partially sedated.

"Come on Jeffrey, it's time I took a look at that wound." I was standing beside him now and loosening that sling from his arm so I could remove his jacket and shirt. A vivid red blood stain was spreading around the perfectly laundered garment.

"Don't know how we got to th' clinic...I remember ... marshal almost carrying me inside demanding a shretsher and Dr. Harrington."

"I can believe that Jeffrey." Typical of Matt, no thought for his own injuries. "Come on now, we need to get this shirt off so I can inspect Gabriel Harrington's handiwork." He tried to help but his movements were as uncoordinated as his speech.

It was all I could do to get the young doctor face down on the table where a few hours ago Billy Jessop had lain so frail and fevered. I hoped my young friend and colleague would be as lucky as the boy had been.

The wound was indeed an ugly one. It started just below his shoulder joint and curved down along the posterior ribs for about eight inches. Gabriel had put twenty or more sutures to hold the skin edges neatly together, but I'm sure he'd worked equally hard at repairing the muscles underneath. I cleaned the fresh blood off to see what was going on. Several sutures had ripped open. Certainly a two day train ride had been detrimental. He should have remained in Denver and traveled later but I could understand his need to return to Dodge. Jeffrey was a bit of a loner at heart, that's why he became attached to my practice here. A few good friends, that's what I enjoyed too. No one to answer to but myself. Sure I enjoyed occasional contact with other physicians and the opportunity to discuss medical matters, but on the whole I had a lot of pride and satisfaction in taking care of my patients. Big institutions served an important purpose but someone had to do the everyday things and that happened to be what I liked. From the short time I'd known the young man currently passed out on my table, I knew he felt the same way. He'd become accustomed to being around Matt and Kitty, then Hockley arrived on the scene and he was an easy man to get along with too. Jeffrey only wanted to come home, and Dodge City had become just that to him. Being hurt will often do that to man.

I lit the two remaining lamps in my office and set them on a stand closer to the table so I could see what was needed. I was trying to find where the bleeding was coming from. It wasn't obvious because there was swelling around the entire area - but that was fairly normal three or four days out from such an injury. Fortunately there were no signs of infection. I located where the bleeding was coming from - probably a small blood vessel. It was necessary to remove several of Harrington's neat sutures. Once I'd done that the small artery was clearly visible and I managed to tie it off. Having accomplished that I decided not to close the wound, but to allow it to drain for a day or two. I applied a clean dressing and checked my colleague's pulse. It was steady. Barring any unforeseen complication, Jeffrey should be up and around in a few days.

I cleaned my instruments and settled into my old chair with a freshly filled shot glass. What was left of the night would pass slowly.

TBC