Several days had gone by, and Doc was weary of laying in bed with nothing to do and with only the regular visitors stopping in now and again. Although he still hurt badly, he got dressed to the point where he had his pants, socks, boots, his undershirt on. His white shirt was ruined with the bullet and blood.
Doc ambled over to the dresser and looked in the mirror at himself and cringed, "Good heavens!" he jumped slightly at the sight. He realized that Kitty wasn't far off about him looking like a Haggen. He twisted his mouth in thought as he studied his face, "I can't tackle this myself," he mused as he scratched his chin, "I sure hope Schmidt can scrape these off and make some sense of this," he said trying to push his hair in place.
There was a genital knock at the door, "Come on in," Doc said as he turned to face the door.
Kitty stepped in and stared at the empty bed for a second before she saw the doctor at the burrow, "Are you sure you should be up?" she asked with her hands now firmly balled up on her hips.
"Who's the doctor here?" Doc asked as his eyes narrowed. "I couldn't spend another minute in that bed," he grumbled as he swiped his hand across his moustache.
Kitty slowly smiled; she knew that the doctor was an active man and hated to be laid up, "Well, you better take it easy," she jokingly scolded her friend.
Doc frowned, "Don't you have anything better to do?" he quipped.
Kitty walked a little further into to the room, "As a matter of fact, I was wondering if you would like to join Matt and me for supper tonight. Judge Brooker's in town," she smiled.
"Well," Doc thought. It was a long time since he had a real good meal – not that Kitty couldn't cook, but his mouth watered at the thought of the perfect steak, "Judge Brooker, you say," his eyes sparkled.
"I take that as a yes," Kitty smirked.
"Oh, yes. But please let me get these whiskers scraped off first!" Doc fussed.
Kitty chuckled, "Supper isn't until supper time, Doc. You've got the whole day," she winked.
Doc looked back in the mirror, "It might take that long," he sighed. The last time he remembered looking so awful was when he was prisoner at Libby during the war. He shuttered at the thought.
"I'll get a bath and new shirt for you," Kitty stated as she was leaving, "after you have had a shave and a haircut. And you might notice that your suit's been cleaned," she pointed out.
Doc looked down at his trousers and then back to the saloon owner, "You're a good friend, Kitty Russell," he winked with affection. Kitty playfully blew the doctor a kiss before she left the room. With a good scratch of his cheek, Doc was reminded how dear his friends were to him, even though now and again he felt under appreciated. The doctor drew in a deep breath and walked to the door to seek out Wilhelm Schmidt to get a haircut and shave.
Doc stepped out onto the boardwalk - his eyes scanned the street as he ran his hand across his clean-shaven face. A slight smile curled his moustache as he began to walk back to the Long Branch for that hot bath he wanted. The doctor's attention was drawn to Newly who brought in a buckboard with his horse tied to the back. The doctor grunted in puzzlement as he ambled over to see what the young deputy brought into town.
Newly had stopped the wagon at the base of the stairs that led up to Doc's office; Doc was even more curious. O'Brien stepped down from the buckboard, and even though he was slightly surprised to see Doc up and about, he knew that the doctor wasn't going to stay down for much longer, "How are you feeling, Doc? Newly asked.
"Not bad, considering," Doc stepped down and crossed the alley, "Whatcha got there?" he questioned.
"It's Rick Winslow's father," Newly said looking down into the wagon.
Doc peered over the side, "Howdy," he said. Then looked at Newly, "What happened to him?"
"Just like Rick said. Sloane and Jeb rode into their farm looking for fresh horses and beat him up. Pretty good too," Newly stated.
"They busted some of my ribs," Winslow senior stated.
"Well, I'm sure Newly fixed you up, just fine," Doc said with a tick of his head.
"He did. This ride wasn't that enjoyable, however," Winslow stated.
"Well, your timing it good," Doc noted; "Judge Brooker is in town to see your son," he added.
"Rick's a good boy," Winslow stated.
"I'm sure that Brooker will want to talk to you too," Doc said. "I'll see you later, Newly," he said before he left for his hot bath.
Newly assisted Phillip Winslow to a sitting position and then out of the wagon. "We'll get you up to Doc's office where you can rest. I'll bring Judge Brooker over to see you later," he told the old farmer as he assisted him up to the office.
Brooker closed the wooden door that was between the holding cells and the office of the jailhouse, "Well, he certainly seems sincere," the judge stated.
"That's the way I feel about it too," Matt said as he looked up from the paperwork he was finishing up.
The door opened and Newly O'Brien stepped into the cozy office, "Good afternoon Marshal. Judge Brooker," he acknowledged.
"Festus told us what you found at the Winslow farm. How is he?" Matt questioned the young deputy.
"He'll be all right in a while, but they worked him over really good. He's got three broken ribs and some deep bruises to his back," Newly stated. "I've got him up in Doc's office, resting for now," he thumbed over his shoulder.
"I'll see him later," Brooker said. "I'd like to talk with Doc Adams next." Brooker walked to the door, picking up his top hat from the table as he passed it. "Thanks for your time, Matt," he nodded before he left the jailhouse. Brooker placed his hat on, and strolled across the street to the Long Branch. He paused at the front door before entering the establishment, thinking about what Matt and Festus had told him about the doctor's unfortunate adventure. Brooker then pushed through the swing doors and entered the saloon. Kitty and Sam looked up from the bar; things were a little slow for the time of day.
"Good afternoon, Judge Brooker," Kitty smiled.
Brooker tipped his hat, "Good afternoon Miss Russell. Is Doctor Adams up stairs?" he asked.
Kitty nodded, "He's in room three. Just knock," she indicated.
Brooker nodded then walked across the floor to the stairs, which he climbed, taking his time. Once at room three, Brooker knocked, "Doctor Adams?" he asked through the door.
Doc opened the door, as he was in the process of buttoning up his clean white shirt. "Good day, Judge," he smiled and let the judge into the room.
"You're feeling well?" Brooker asked the doctor.
"As well as I can, given the circumstances," Doc grunted.
Brook nodded as he entered the room, "I need to talk to you about what happened," he looked at the doctor. "I'm sure you're growing tired of that as well, so as soon as we can put this matter to rest, the better it will be for everyone," the judge stated.
"Amen to that," Doc snorted and offered the judge a chair while he took one himself so that they could talk.
The two men talked for close to three hours, Doc offered his thoughts on they physiology of Sloane and Taylor, as well as that of Rick Winslow. Judge Brooker nodded, "Thank you Doctor Adams," he said as he stood up. "I'll talk to Rick's father now," he stated as he placed his hat on his head.
As it turned out, Winslow's father also told the judge about what had happened at the farm. All the stories were true which proved that it was Frankie Sloane who was indeed the leader. His death and the death of Jeb Taylor certainly would save on that trial. However, it was now a decision as to what to do with Rick Winslow – Brooker knew that the posse wanted to take the young man back, but that was based on what they believed at the time. Only Chip was in on any conversation about Rick Winslow's involvement.
Brooker sat at a table at the Long Branch, sipping on a brandy, when Doc happened to be walking by to leave. The doctor saw the judge and walked over to the table, "That looks like a serious thought," he smiled slightly.
Brooker looked up, "It is doctor. You know by rights, that young man should have a proper trial," he said before he sipped at this drink.
Doc nodded and sat down, "I know. I've thought about that too," he frowned. "I certainly am not charging him with anything. Had it been Sloane I would have volunteered to pull the lever myself," his eyes narrowed as he spoke. "Personally, I think Rick is a victim of circumstances, and with he father laid up, he's going to have to run the farm," Doc looked over to the judge who nodded.
Brooker drank some more of his brandy, "I'll talk to the Spearville posse and see if we can come to an agreement, rather than take this to court," he stated. "Seems to me there's been enough sadness," Brooker said with an unusual kindness in this voice.
"That would be awfully nice," Doc smiled.
Chip and the other men finally came to an agreement with Judge Brooker after they heard the full story about what happened to Rick and his father, "I guess it's lucky it ended the way it did," Chip stated. "Had Sloane kept running, Winslow would likely have been killed also," he added. "We didn't know who did what, but we were almost one hundred percent certain that Sloane was the mastermind. We also found out why they wanted the fresh horses," he said.
"How's that?" Matt asked.
"They robbed a fright stage and killed the driver and shotgun. We didn't know about it until the freight company reported the stage missing. One of the men managed to write down what the shooters looked like before he died from loss of blood," Chip reported.
"I guess I didn't hear about that," Matt said with a slight huff.
"Wall, ya have been kinda busy, Matthew," Festus stated. "Thanks, Festus," Matt smiled. "I guess we're in agreement then," he said as he looked at Chip and his posse, Judge Brooker, and Doc Adams. They all nodded.
Matt plucked the ring of key for the peg and unlocked the wooden door that led into the holding cells, "Rick," he said firmly causing the young man to almost jump to his feet, "Yes, marshal?" he said as he approached the bars.
"Your Pa needs you," Matt said as he unlocked the iron bar door and allowed Winslow out.
Rick stood stunned. "You mean I can go?" he finally spat out.
"Yes. Take care of your father and the farm," Matt smiled.
Rick Winslow swallowed hard as he stepped out into the main office and face what would have been his judge and jury. "Thank you," he said humbly.
Doc stepped forward, "You Pa is up in my office just across the street. Best wishes, Rick," he said as he extended his right hand. Rick gladly shook it, "Thank you! Thank you all!" he as beaming as he left the jailhouse.
Festus ticked his head, "That was purely something nice," the hill man smiled. "In fact, it's almost worth a drink, dontcha think?" he asked as he looked at the other men in the room.
Doc eyed the deputy and brushed his hand across this moustache, "I'm buying the first round," he grunted as he left the jailhouse with the other following behind.