The tired, hungry, and wet Marshal patted his sturdy horse's sleek, muscled neck. "Almost home, Buck Boy. Soon you'll be warm and dry at Moss', munching on oats. And even better, soon I'll be warm and dry and holding Kitty!" As the horse plodded along through the mud and rain, Matt could almost smell the elusive lilacs and violets perfume Kitty wore, and thought of the silky smoothness of her finely freckled skin. A nearby crash of thunder made the big Buckskin jump sideways, and the quick-reacting man clenched the reins tighter and guided the horse back to the chosen route. "Whew! Serve me right to end up in the mud for daydreaming, and especially so close to home!" he chastised himself. Sitting up straighter, he scanned his surroundings for familiar landmarks in the stormy darkness. During the next flash of lightning, he looked to his left for the dilapidated small fishing pier on the edge of town, and was stunned to see the figures of an adult and a child struggling together there, each clutching the same tall pole. Squinting, he thought that the adult was an oddly-dressed woman with a bandage around her head and a sling on her left arm. As the rain hat was knocked from the child's head, bright fair hair appeared before being darkened by the deluge.
"HEY! YOU TWO NEED TO GET OFF THAT PIER!"" the lawman yelled, and even his low, powerful voice was lost in the storm. Realizing with horror that the "pole" was really a metal rod, he urged his horse towards the pier at a gallop. "DROP THAT POLE!" he bellowed, knowing that it could attract lightning at any moment and instantly kill the two struggling people.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Kitty had hurried after the boy, not catching up until the pier was in sight. Her pain and dizziness were overwhelmed by the adrenaline surge she felt in her determination to catch the boy. Ronny had walked out to the end and was about to whirl the heavy rod out into the water when a hand grabbed it and jerked him back. "Oh, no you DON'T, Ronny Penmark!" Kitty yelled, her right hand tightly holding onto the bar and pulling back. "I know you killed poor little Claude Daigel with this-I SAW you!" Her voice was sucked away in the windy, rainy storm, thunder and lightning crashing around them as they struggled.
Ronny's angelic face was now frightening in the icy hatred in his large blue eyes as he yanked back on the rod. "I HAD to hit him! I HAD to! He wouldn't give me the medal! IT WAS MINE! THE MEDAL WAS MINE!" he screeched, his spittle striking Kitty's close face.
The injured woman knew she couldn't last in the struggle much longer, and especially with only one hand, but her resolve kept her holding on. "This child murdered another child! And for a stupid MEDAL! I cannot let him get away with it! Oh, Lord, give me the strength!" She felt her feet in Doc's too-big shoes starting to slip as the surprisingly strong child pulled her towards the edge of the pier.
Suddenly the sky crackled with static, and as a huge bolt of lightning jolted down from on high, Kitty felt something hit her hard, envelope her and propel her off of the pier and down onto the soft, muddy bank of the pond. Ronny, triumphant for a spilt second as the sole possessor of the iron pole, was instantly vaporized as the massive energy of the lightning struck the rod. The wooden pier exploded, showering splinters and shattered wood over the couple entwined in the mud.
"Kitty! Kitty! Are you all right?" Matt asked desperately as he rolled to his side to take his weight off of the young woman he had tackled and landed on. As his galloping horse had neared the pier, the big man had suddenly realized that it was his Kitty struggling with Ronny Penmark. Without another thought not moment of hesitation, he had leapt from his horse when close enough and propelled himself at her, his arms ready to grab and wrap around her on their way down to the ground and away from the approaching lightning.
Her ears rang, and her head, wrist, and entire body hurt enough for a loud scream of pain, but her breath had been knocked out of her, so she was only capable of a gasp as she looked into Matt's worried eyes. She felt him gently raise her to a sitting position, then his strong arms lifted her up against his broad chest. Rain poured from the brim of his big Stetson, somehow still in place, as he bent his head to tenderly kiss her lips. When he lifted his head to look into her lovely face, she smiled and nodded, and he carried her to his waiting horse. There they paused and looked back at the still-smoldering pier, knowing that no trace of the murderous boy with the perfect face would ever be found.
End.
Epilogue:
"But Doc-it's the LAW!"
The wise older man looked down as he thought, and with a slight nod of his head, passed a hand over his graying mustache as he looked up. "Matt, are you saying that you think justice wasn't served?" His sharp, blue-gray eyes bored into the troubled, clear blue ones of the Marshal. The two men were up in Doc's office, the doctor sitting in his desk chair, and Matt on the end of the examination table. It was very early in the morning after the stormy night, and the sky was a washed clean and sparkling blue. Kitty was still asleep in the front bedroom. When Matt had appeared with her in his arms last night, both muddy and drenched, Doc had been relieved and worried. He had been called away to an emergency breech birth as he was leaving the Daigels', and when he had gotten back to his office, had been initially angry and then deeply worried at Kitty's absence.
Now Matt ran a hand through his still-disheveled, curly brown hair and sighed. 'Doc. I was hired to uphold and enforce the law, and, well, that means I am responsible for reporting who murdered Claude Daigel. But now I am wondering if that also necessarily means telling the victim's parents. And the parents of the murderer. Doc, I've never had to deal with a murderer who is a CHILD!" He looked down and shook his head slowly back and forth. "Doc? Tell me something. Something I cannot understand at all. How? HOW could an eight-year-old child KILL?!"
Rubbing his chin, the doctor looked up at the ceiling in thought. "I read something last year, Matt. A highly controversial and disputed paper by, let me see, Tasker, yes, Doctor Reginald Tasker. He is a medical doctor, but has been specializing in disorders of the mind. Well, he published a well-researched paper stating his belief that in some very rare cases, a child is born bad, like a bad seed, and can never be changed. This child is often extraordinarily attractive and charming outwardly, but has no conscience and will do anything to get what he or she wants. It is like the child is 'born blind.' Blind to goodness or the ways of others."
The older man studied the handsome young man he loved and admired like a son. Both sat in the silence of their own thoughts. Doc got up, went over to the small stove by the door, poured coffee into two heavy mugs, walked back, handed one to Matt, and sat down again, his wooden chair creaking.
"Matt. Tell me this. What possible good would it do to tell the parents of two dead sons, both beloved, that one killed the other? What part of the law would that meet and settle? The lives of Mister and Missus Daigel, Christine and Colonel Penmark, and little Rhoda, are already shattered forever. Must the onus and horror of murder be added? Both families are mercifully leaving Dodge soon. The Daigels today, and the Penmarks tomorrow. Must they drag a piece of this evilness with them? I've left the Daigels thinking it was a childish case of horseplay gone terribly wrong. His mother was so sadly happy that Claude must have had a friend. Now, don't get me wrong! I never lied to her! In fact, all I said was that poor Claude was hit in the head. She inferred the rest, and I…I just didn't have the heart to correct her. As for the Penmarks, Christine is so deep in shock and grief that telling her that her beautiful son was a murderer would probably KILL her! And she'd never believe you, either, no matter what Kitty saw and heard." He took a sip of the strong coffee as he studied the big, handsome man opposite him. He loved Matt Dillon in so many ways and for so many qualities, one of which was the way the young man always carefully considered his words before speaking. Unlike his remarkable and amazing quickness in physical reflexes, this man never said anything in haste. Now as the lawman raised his head and their eyes met, Doc added, "And Matt, there is such a thing as the law of man, AND the law of God. 'Vengeance is Mine; I will repay, saith the lord.'"
The silence continued for a moment more, then Matt cleared his throat. "Romans 12:19, huh, Doc?"
Doc's shaggy eyebrows rose in surprise and his friend grinned.
"You're not the only civilized man in town, you know," he said, getting up and putting a hand on the small man's shoulder. "Thanks Doc. I need to check in with Chester. He's probably so worried that he forgot and used fresh coffee grounds this morning!" His eyes looked over at the closed door to the bedroom where Kitty slept. "She's all right, Doc?"
"Harrumph!" He cleared his throat and swiped at his tired eyes. "Oh, yes, that hard-headed young woman will be just fine. Mild concussion, broken wrist, and mighty sore all over after that escapade in the rain!"
"That's a relief. I saw that sling, and the bandage on her head and didn't know what to think. My two-hundred-and-thirty pounds landing on her didn't help," he added ruefully. "I'll be back later to see her." He put on his Stetson and opened the front door.
"Matt!"
Both men looked at each other, their eyes saying more than unnecessary words.
"Thanks, Matt." The mere thought of what Matt had saved Kitty from still made Doc's stomach clench.
With a slight dip of his head, the lawman stepped out onto the small landing. "Doc. Doc, come here." Instead of going down the steep steps, Matt stood quietly watching as the Daigels went by in a large, mule-drawn wagon loaded down with their belongings. Both wore black and sat so dejectedly that an almost visible aura of sadness surrounded them. Doc walked over and joined Matt on the landing.
"Hmmm…leaving so early in the day. Suppose that's a good thing. Heard they're heading back to her sister's farm in Missouri." The doctor stood next to his tall friend, watching the wagon's slow progress. "Matt. You gonna go after them and tell them about Claude and Ronny? How their only child was savagely murdered for a cheap piece of painted tin on a gaudy ribbon?"
The Marshal also kept his eyes on the wagon. "Nope. No, I'm not, Doc. I figure they have more than enough baggage. More than enough."
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Colonel Kenneth Penmark stood stiffly in shock, tightly holding the hand of little blonde-haired Rhoda. "We've lost him. We've lost our boy. Our dear Ronny." His voice was whispery and full of pain. The handsome soldier had rushed home on emergency leave, fortunately having just arrived at Fort Dodge on assignment, and now felt overwhelmed with grief as he looked down at his sedated wife in the darkened bedroom. He was glad that his immediate transfer request had been approved, and he could take his small family away from the evils of Dodge in the morning.
Rhoda tugged on her father's hand and looked up at him imploringly with her big, dark eyes. "Daddy! DADDY!"
Blinking, the tall, kind man looked down at his daughter with a crooked little smile. "Yes, my darling, what is it?" He worried that the young and innocent child, who had no concept of death or loss, would miss her beloved older brother terribly.
'Daddy, you and Mommy still have ME!"
"Oh, of COURSE we do, darling! Of COURSE we do!" His blue eyes filled with bittersweet tears as he bent over and swooped the little girl up high, holding her at arms' length, their eyes meeting.
"Daddy, what would you give me for a basket of kisses?!" the adorable girl chirped with a big, dimpled grin.
"Rhoda, my love, Daddy would give you a basket of hugs!" As he pulled her into a tight embrace, the child's small right hand fingered the four shiny medals on the dark blue Army tunic.