Counterfeit
Chapter 19
Doc already had most of the bandages removed from Matt's leg when Kitty joined him in the small back room behind the Stage office. He was just cutting through the last of the bindings when she walked in. The part of the limb she could see was red and swollen and the wound itself was larger than she would have expected.
The physician was having a difficult time, his patient was only half awake and was trying to protect his leg by pushing the physicians hands away, so Doc was having to use the scissors in one hand while trying to control Matts random arm movements with the other.
He turned and looked at her, relieved to see she was obviously no worse for wear after meeting Mr. Colter.
"Kitty I need some help – come and hold his arm so I can take a look at this."
He cleared the last of the bandages then began, as gently as possible, probing the wound with his fingers trying to determine the extent of the damage. To begin with Dillon fought his every movement, but once Kitty started talking to him in soft gentle tones he calmed down.
"Just let Doc take a look Matt, it's going to be all right."
He tried to look at her, but fever confused his mind and he could not find her with his eyes.
"It's all right Cowboy, I am right here." She tightened her grip on his hand, willing him to look at her.
Finally he found her, his usually clear blue eyes were clouded with pain and not focusing too well, but he could make out her outline.
"Kitty?" His voice was so weak she could barely hear him.
She bent down to be a little closer and continued talking softly to him, anything to distract him from his pain.
Doc finally looked up from his task and she could see all the blood soaked bandages that he had removed. There was so much blood that she wondered if the big man could have enough left in his body to recover from this.
Kitty looked into Doc's face, she could see the worry there.
"Can you fix it Doc?" It was a quiet pleading question.
He looked directly at her and she could see the concern in his eyes.
"I'm not going to pretend it will be easy, but you know I'll do everything I can."
Kitty was trying not to give in to her fears, at least she had found Matt and he was still alive. That had to count for something. She took the physicians hand and squeezed it gently. Somehow Doc would pull him through, he always did.
"I know you will."
He stood there looking at her for a moment then his features became serious as he removed his coat and rolled his shirtsleeves up beyond his elbows.
"I'm going to need you to boil some water for me, then send Ginny to find some clean towels and lots more bandages. I'll also need some kind of alcohol."
He was going through his bag sorting out the instruments he would need and placing them in the enamel bowl he always used. He removed the small bottle of laudanum and set it to one side –he only had enough for two or three doses so he was waiting till the last minute to administer it.
Kitty went out to the front office and got the clerk to fire up the stove so she could get a pot of water going. Fortunately Matt had fallen back into a restless sleep and, for the moment, did not miss her.
Doc was very particular about setting all his instruments at the ready before he would even start to operate. With the help of the man who ran the station and the younger man who worked there at nights, he got the bed positioned so he could get as much light from the window as possible. They had found him a small table on which to set up his instruments and another one where he set the bandages and the alcohol in the order he would need them once he was finished.
He wasn't looking forward to what he was about to do, the bullet had been in there too long and there were too many large blood vessels, not to mention nerves, in the area he would be dealing with. Making a final check that everything was ready, he poured a large dose of the laudanum into a glass and handed it to Kitty.
"Get this down him while I go wash my hands."
He took his glasses from their case in his vest pocket, and deliberately put them on, carefully tucking the curved ends behind his ears.
As he washed his hands Doc went over, in his mind, the anatomy of the area he would be working in. The bullet had entered Matt's leg just below the knee and as far as his initial examination could tell him, it was lodged firmly between the two bones that made up the lower part of the leg. It had entered from the lateral side, a little posterior rather than straight on. He had managed to get the big Marshal onto his side, then propped the leg up on some towels, he hoped it would make it a little easier to get at.
He dried his hands on a clean towel and walked over to his friend. This was not going to be easy and he prayed his skills would be sufficient for the task ahead.
He took a probe and inserted into the wound. Deep down he knew he could not find the bullet this way but he had to try. After several failed attempts he placed the probe in a bowl for Kitty to clean again and took a scalpel and, with care, made a long incision down the side of Matt's leg, starting at the knee and extending down about four inches towards his foot.
There were a number of blood vessels here – some of which were already damaged or torn, and a couple more he tied and cut so he could follow the bullet track. At this point he picked up two small retractors and had Kitty hold the edges of the wound apart with them so he could continue to track the small piece of lead deeper into the cavity he was creating.
From time to time the Marshal would groan and try to move, but somehow between them they kept him still.
After an hour or so Doc took a break, Kitty could see the stress lines on his face. She went out to the front office and brought him back a cup of coffee.
"Here Doc, sit down a minute."
He covered the incision with a clean towel and stepped away from his patient then putting his hands to his back he stretched. This was not a comfortable position to work in.
He took the cup and swallowed half of the liquid, then wiped his face with his left hand. Kitty knew better than to ask how it was going.
Two minutes was all he took – then he washed his hands again and returned to work. He continued dissecting down till at last he could see the bullet. Indeed it was wedged in place and he had to remove a small piece of bone before he could pry it loose.
At long last he reached for the bullet forceps and carefully worked them into the small space he had created. Kitty was holding her breath as she watched him. It took three attempts before, finally, he got a firm enough grip to pull it back out. He held it up and his red headed assistant smiled. Doc could relax some too but he knew they were far from out of the woods yet. Closing the wound and trying to repair some of the muscle damage took longer than he thought it would.
In the end it took Doc three hours to remove the bullet from Matt's leg and get the wound cleaned out and patched back together to his satisfaction. Kitty had stood and helped him the whole time. There had not been a lot of room to work but at least it was clean in this little room and Doc had an adequate supply of boiling water to sterilize his instruments.
When he was finished he threw the last instrument he was using into a bowl with the others and sat down heavily in the only chair available.
Kitty went over to him. "Is he going to be alright?" she asked quietly – almost scared to receive an answer.
Doc thought a moment. "I'll be honest with you Kitty, it was an ugly wound to start with, that bullet sat in there for four or five days and there was a lot of infection. I've done the best I can with it, we'll just have to wait see. It's going to be a long recovery – even for Matt."
-XX-
A marshal and deputy had arrived from St. Louis, and tried to be helpful but had no idea what was going on. They had buried Colter and now came to the stage office looking for answers.
"Where is Marshal Dillon?" the one who introduced himself as Bill Bancroft asked.
Doc came forward – "he's in the back room here but I don't know how much use he'll be."
He took the man back to see Dillon who was barely awake, his mind still clouded from the laudanum.
Doc checked his patient's pulse and felt his forehead.
"Matt this is Marshal Bancroft from St. Louis, do you feel up to talking to him for a few minutes?"
Matt looked up at the newcomer, and then remembered something. "Doc," the physician was about to leave but turned around.
"You need something Matt?"
Dillon nodded, "ask Ginny … plates that I was carrying."
Doc left the room.
"Can you tell me what happened, Dillon?"
"Special assignment. Send those plates to Mr. Charles Devens and tell him Colter is dead." The effort exhausted him and his head fell to one side.
There were a hundred questions Bancroft wanted to ask, but the man who could answer them was asleep again.
"Is there anything else I can do to help, Dr. Adams?"
Doc handed him the small package as Matt had requested.
"You might send someone to find the two men that were with Colter. I think Miss Russell should be able to give you some kind of a description. I'd say she scared them pretty good, but I'd hate to think of them coming back to look for Ginny or Matt.
"I understand. I'll leave a deputy here to stay with you for a few days."
Four days passed before Matt was able to sit up and hold a conversation. Kitty had sat with him most of that time. She had bathed his forehead when the fevers came and tried to keep him calm when he became agitated and confused. Worst of all were the dressing changes that Doc insisted on doing at least twice a day to try to prevent the spread of infection in the wound. Kitty could see it was almost as painful for the physician as it was for the patient. All she could do was try to comfort both of them with her calm voice.
At last the fevers gave way to periods when he was awake. He would hold onto her hand and not let her out of his sight. At first he was afraid she was just a dream but as his condition improved he wanted to know how she got here and what went on after the last scenes he remembered in the warehouse. He was vaguely aware that they had moved him in a wagon, but after that it was a blank until he woke up where he was now.
Ginny came to see him a few times, even sat with him while Kitty rested. She told him how Kitty had faced Colter and finished up having to shoot him. "She is an amazing lady Mr. Mathews." He smiled at the use of the name she had given him,
"You're right Ginny, she is amazing."
"You should marry her. She really loves you, you know."
He smiled again but could think of no suitable reply.
"Yes I should," was all he said as he closed his eyes.
Another day passed and Matt began demanding his clothes. Kitty could see that Ginny could do with some thing other than the baggy pants and tattered shirt she had been wearing since the first day they had met, so she suggested a shopping trip to St. Louis for the two of them. There was no way she could find clothes for Matt at the small general store, and Ginny deserved better than the course garments they had there.
Doc said he could manage Matt for a few hours, but not to bother buying boots for the Marshal as he would not be walking anywhere for a while. He thought that would be one way to keep the man in bed.
While the women were gone, Doc took the opportunity to talk with Matt.
The Marshal knew what he was going to say. He could feel the pain every time he moved his leg and could tell that right now it would not hold his weight if he tried to stand. His dread was that it would be like this permanently and he really didn't want to hear those words said aloud.
Doc moved the only chair in the room so he could sit next to the bed.
"I guess you know that was a bad wound Matt." He got no reply so continued on.
"There's a good chance it will recover more or less completely, but you have to listen to me on this. When we get you back to Dodge you are going to be on crutches for a while, probably at least six weeks. No weight at all on that leg. After that we'll see how things go. You were very lucky you know. It is amazing you didn't lose your leg – that bullet was in there for about five days and it did a lot of damage. I just want you to think on that before you start getting up and running up and down Front Street, because it won't work this time."
Matt was almost grinning – at least it was going to be all right, he would be able to pin that badge on once more, it may take a while, but it was better than he thought.
"Thanks Doc. I guess you'll be sending me a bill. Just remember the sooner I get back to work the sooner I can pay you."
The physician made a noise halfway between a cough and a growl, then he shook his head, wiped his mustache and looked down at his recalcitrant patient.
"I really don't know why I bother." He turned and left the room.
TBC