Chapter Twelve: Troubled Times in Dodge
Matt drove the wagon right up in front of the Long Branch, but there were shouts and questions, people following them, from the moment they hit the edge of town. Bill, Kitty's girls, and half the cowboys in town, were standing on the boardwalk as Matt stepped down from the wagon and reached up to help Kitty alight.
"Where you been, Miss Kitty?" "You okay, Kitty?" "Those outlaws hurt you, honey?" All the questions came at once, but Matt barely had Kitty on the ground when a sturdy-looking older man with a Hays deputy's badge had a hand on his arm and was saying, "I'll take over now, Marshal. Name's Hark Farris."
Matt looked at him. "You'll take over what now, Deputy?"
"First thing Judge Beck did when he got here this morning was to place Miss Russell in protective custody under the Sheriff of Hays. I'll take her over to the jail," the man replied.
"You think that's really necessary, Farris?" Matt asked.
"I do," the man replied. "There've been too many attempts on her life here in Dodge, and I intend to see to it that nothing further happens."
"Matt?" Kitty asked plaintively, her voice deliberately loud enough for most of the crowd that had now settled around them to hear, "Wasn't it bad enough Sheriff Reardon keeping me holed up in that broken down shack up in the hills? All I want is a bath and a chance to change my clothes."
The deputy shook his head, "Sorry ma'am. I'll try to make you as comfortable as possible, but you need to come with me right now." He took her arm.
"Go on, Kitty. I'll go have a word with Judge Beck." Matt said.
"Bill!" Kitty called out, "You let the girls into my rooms to find me some soap and some clean clothes." She shook off the deputy's arm. "I know the way," she said and started walking across to the jailhouse. A shot rang out and Kitty felt a searing burn across her ribs as she was toppled into the dirt of the road with two large bodies on top of her. Despite the pain, she recognized one as Matt, and turned her face to see the other as Chester, lying half over her with his head up and a rifle in his hands.
She didn't lose consciousness, but things got muddled for a bit. She knew she was in Matt's arms, and she heard Doc telling him to bring her up to his office. Behind her she heard Chester arguing with the Deputy, and then there was another shot, a shotgun blast this time, and in the quiet that followed she heard a clipped New England accent saying, "Take that lady up to the doctor, Marshal. You, Farris, go guard the back of the building. Goode, I want you at the bottom of the stairs. Dillon, I want to see you at the Dodge House as soon as you get her in Doctor Adams hands. Now the rest of you, disperse this very minute or I shall have every one of you in jail for disturbing the peace."
And then she was lying on the table in Doc's office, and he was ripping open her shirtwaist. "You just go on, Matt. You can't help me here. Tell that mad jurist that I need a nurse and get him to let Ma Smalley up here. Go on now." And she knew that they were really back in Dodge and things were savagely back to normal when Matt left without even a touch of his hand on hers. What she couldn't see was his anguished look at Doc, and Doc's firm nod that let him know she wasn't badly hurt.
"Kitty, I'm going to have to turn you on your side so I can get this damn corset off of you. Can you help me here?" Doc asked her, and hissing at the pain, she turned over on her right side, feeling the sudden release in pressure as he cut the strings and turned the corset away from her side. "Okay, Kitty, you just stay like that, let's me have a good look at the wound. Don't you move."
"It sure hurts, Doc," she managed to get out.
"I know it does, honey. But you just lie still." Doc said. She heard him pulling out pans and bottles, and then he was back next to her, "This is going to hurt you, Kitty, but you need to try not to move. Can you do that for me?"
Kitty braced herself. "I can, Doc. You go ahead." And then there was cold, stinging fire as Doc poured carbolic over the wound on her side, and her mind went black.
When she woke, Kitty was still on the table. She was still turned on her side, but was naked from the waist up, and Ma Smalley was just laying a towel across her exposed breasts. Doc was busy swabbing at the bleeding crease along the bottom of her rib cage. "You back with us, Kitty?" Ma said, stroking her hair, then wiping a damp cloth across her face and neck.
"How bad is it, Doc?" Kitty asked.
"Well, Kitty, I want to tell you right now before anybody else comes in here, that it's not as bad as I'm going to make out it is. Your corset took more of that bullet than your skin did. Can you trust me on this, Kitty?" Doc said.
"You know I trust you, Doc," she said, "But…"
"No buts from you, young lady. Mary, you pour her out one dose of laudanum and mix it in half a glass of water. Kitty I need you to drink that down before I start stitching you up." She felt his cool, competent hands on her side and back as Ma held a glass to her lips, and she swallowed the bitter dose without complaint. She didn't lose consciousness again, and she remembered hearing Doc and Ma speaking to each other, but couldn't afterwards remember what it was they said. The sharp stick and tug of Doc taking the stitches seemed only a little blurred, but not worth the effort to move or fight it. They sat her up on the edge of the table while Ma held her arms up and Doc wrapped bandages around her ribs, and eventually Ma was taking off her skirt and petticoats and Doc was helping her into a soft cotton shirt and buttoning it down the front. Then finally Doc's smooth voice, "You rest for a while, Kitty. Just rest. You're safe here. We won't leave you." It was sleep and not unconsciousness that slipped over her then.
When Kitty woke she was still lying on her side on the table, with a pillow under her head and a sheet and blanket tucked around the rest of her. Doc was standing beside her holding her wrist. He looked down at her with a smile when he saw her eyes open. "How do you feel, Kitty?" he asked.
She thought about it. "My side is sore," she said, "And I'm thirsty. And my head hurts some."
"Just about what I expected." Doc said, lifting her shoulders a little to hold a glass of water to her lips. She drank thirstily, and turned her head when she heard steps on the stairs outside Doc's door. "You remember what I said, Kitty, about trusting me?" She nodded. "You just hold on to that, honey," Doc said, as the office door opened.
"I do not think that firearm really necessary, Madam." Kitty again heard the clipped tones that had cleared the street after her shooting, and she turned her head to see Ma pointing a shotgun at a short, well-dressed, older man.
"Well, not now that I see who you are, Judge," Ma said, laying down the gun, "But I'm not about to let anything more happen to this young lady."
Judge Beck looked at her somewhat quizzically. "You would honestly shoot that, Madam?" he asked.
Doc snorted, and Ma laughed. "I've been on the frontier for more than twenty years, Judge, and I've done my fair share of shooting," she gestured with her head over at Doc, "And he has too, but right now his hands are needed for more than a gun, so I'm taking care of that."
"I was told that you were here as a nurse, ma'am." Judge Beck remarked.
"And I was. And I am. But that doesn't keep me from picking up a shotgun." Ma replied.
The Judge nodded and came over to the table where Kitty lay. "How are you feeling, Miss Russell?" he asked.
Obeying the pressure of Doc's hand on her wrist, Kitty said weakly, "Not so good, sir. Sure hurts a lot. Things keep going black." She closed her eyes then and let her hand go limp in Doc's.
"Doctor Adams?" came the Judge's voice.
"She's had a severe trauma to the lower left rib cage. Bullet wasn't lodged, but I think some ribs may have been cracked or chipped. We'll need some time to see. I've repaired the damage as best I can, but she needs rest and quiet." Doc said.
"Can she testify in the morning?" Judge Beck asked.
Doc considered this, keeping Kitty quiet with a firm pressure on the wrist he still held. "I would think so. She'll still be in pain in the morning, Judge, but her mind should be clear. So yes, unless she develops an infection, she should be able to testify. However, I can't condone moving her. I don't even want her sitting up, much less walking." Kitty heard the steel in Doc's voice.
"But I could come over here and take her testimony?"
Doc bristled, "I'm not having a jury traipsing into this office hovering over an injured woman."
"I am unaware what gossip you may have heard, Doctor Adams," the Judge replied, "But this will not be a murder trial, the charge is manslaughter, so it would be just myself and the defense attorney. Do you think Miss Russell could manage that?"
"Likely. But I'll have to re-evaluate in the morning, Your Honor." Doc said.
"In the meantime, no visitors whatsoever," stated the Judge firmly, "I will have a man at the bottom of the stairs, one at the top, and one outside your back window all night. Miss Russell is still in protective custody."
"Yes, sir." Doc replied, "And Ma Smalley can stay, as well?"
"Doctor," Judge Beck replied, "I absolutely insist that Mrs. Smalley remain."
Kitty heard the Judge's steps as he crossed the room and went out the door, and she opened her eyes. "Doc Adams, you are a sly old fox."
Doc winked at her. "They need that testimony, Kitty, but it should be a sight easier on you up here and not in front of that courtroom crowd."
"Thanks, Doc." Kitty told him sincerely. "Now how much of that was real, and how much wasn't? I need to go, and I'd sure rather get in there to that chamberpot than have a bedpan."
Doc chuckled. "Sit up here on the side of the table for a minute, Kitty, and then we'll shift you back into the bedroom." The move was accomplished without too much difficulty. Ma helped hold her steady while she peed, and then settled her in the bed. Her side was stiff and sore, and it burned if she moved too much, but she knew she wasn't hurt too badly. Under normal circumstances, she'd be insisting on returning to her rooms across the alley at the Long Branch. But these were not normal times, and she was grateful to Doc and Ma for sheltering her. Doc came in a few moments later with a cup of broth, and let her hold it herself to drink it. When she was done, he handed her a glass with a stiff shot of whiskey, and watched in approval while she tossed it back. He removed the extra pillows and laid her flat in the bed. "Now, Kitty, I want you to try to sleep for a few hours, and it would be better for you if you can just do that yourself, but if you can't, I'll mix up a bromide for you."
"I'll try, Doc." Kitty said. "Will you sit with me for a little?"
"You want me, or you want Ma, Kitty?" he asked.
"You please, Doc," she said, and gave him a convincing yawn.
"I'll go out and watch the door, Galen." Ma said, "You take whatever time you need here."
Doc sat next to her on the bed, and took her pulse again, then settled with her hand in his. "What's troubling you, Kitty?" he asked.
She took a deep breath, despite the ache in her side. "You know what Frank and Matt had planned, Doc?"
"Part of it. Enough to know they would keep you safe and away from Dodge. I admit I was surprised when that Jones fella sent the telegram from La Crosse saying you'd been kidnapped off the stage. I think Jim Buck may have known what was goin' on, but he sure came back into Dodge fuming and fussing the next day. By that time Matt was gone, and no one knew where you were. But Frank sent a telegram Saturday night saying he had you in protective custody and that he'd been in contact with the Marshal."
"I liked Frank, Doc," Kitty said. "I liked seein' him with Matt. Don't think I've ever seen Matt relax like that with anybody. Well anybody besides me," she amended.
Doc nodded. "They were partners for a long time, Kitty. Together on and off until Matt came here to Dodge."
Kitty yawned, and it was real this time, "Wish I could see, Matt."
Doc just patted her hand, "You'll have to make do with me for a while, honey, but I'll see he gets the word on how you are. The real word."
"I sure was lookin' forward to a bath," she murmured, but Doc didn't answer again, and in a few minutes she was asleep.
OoOoO
Matt Dillon was mad. He was mad that Kitty had been shot – just minutes after they got back to town. He was mad at the Hays deputy for taking custody of her and keeping her out on the open street instead of hustling her inside the Long Branch. He was mad at Judge Beck for the wording of the protective custody order, and he was mad at himself for not managing things better. Only people he wasn't mad at were Doc and Ma Smalley, and, he had to smile proudly to himself, at Chester. He knew it had been hard on Chester to have the Marshal's office taken over by a deputy sheriff, but his heart warmed thinking of Chester, rifle in hand, diving into the street right on top of Kitty, same as he had himself. He wished he could have told Chester more about their plans, but he knew that was impossible, still, it made Chester's actions even bolder, that he had done that with no idea what was happening.
After fetching Ma Smalley, he'd returned to the Dodge house, and gone back up to Judge Beck's room. He stood, hat in hand, deliberately looming, while the Judge looked up at him from behind the table he was using as a desk. Being mad made him even quieter than usual, his face absolutely blank.
"Do you know why I am here, Marshal?" Judge Beck asked at last.
"I know you're here to try Spike Marlow," Matt replied.
"I am here because Judge Brooker recused himself," the Judge went on.
"He what?" Matt exclaimed, startled into comment.
"He recused himself. That means he removed himself from the case for personal reasons."
"I know what it means, Judge," Matt said, "I just have some difficulty imagining Cyrus Brooker doing that."
"I admit that I was surprised by that as well, but evidently Mr. Marlow's attorney asked him to do so, and, in good conscience, Judge Brooker could not refuse."
"Why?" Matt's voice was calm, and his question direct.
"I believe it is the attorney's intention to try to show that his client's arrest was the result of a fight between you and Mr. Marlow over Miss Russell's attentions, and that Mr. Marlow had no part at all in the killing of Ellen Sue Neely."
Matt took that in silently.
"No comment, Marshal Dillon?" the Judge asked.
"None needed, Judge."
"Oh?"
Matt shrugged. "Men will make up all kinds of stories to cover up their own crimes and their own behavior. Judge listens to all the testimony and reaches a decision. In this case, the evidence is clear, no matter how Marlow tries to cloud it. I think that Judge Brooker could have taken the case."
"He felt that, in the light of his long relationship with you here as Marshal, that it would open the case to a mistrial or an appeal."
Matt shrugged again, "That's possible. I suppose if Judge Brooker thought that was likely, then changing judges was a good idea. In the long run, I don't think it will matter who's on the bench."
"You think this is an open and shut case?" Beck asked curiously.
"I do."
"So you did not come into Miss Russell's room and find her in bed with Mr. Marlow?" the Judge asked.
"No, sir."
"You were not in Ellen Sue Neely's bed that night?"
"No, sir."
"You did not shoot Marlow yourself?"
"No, sir," Dillon said, but this time he smiled.
"Why is that thought entertaining, Marshal?" the Judge asked him.
"Because if I'd shot Spike Marlow he'd be dead, Judge." the Marshal replied.
"And you are willing to testify to all this under oath tomorrow, Marshal Dillon?"
"Certainly." Matt agreed, "But I'd like to ask you a question as well, Judge Beck,"
Beck nodded his agreement, and Matt went on, "When Chester and I picked up Marlow outside of Larnad he had only a hundred dollars on him. Now I know that's enough to hire an attorney to defend him, but it seems to me that it might not be sufficient to hire an attorney good enough, and willing enough, to ask a judge to recuse himself, to try to prompt a mistrial, to threaten an appeal, or to undermine the reputation of a US Marshal."
"You feel your reputation is above question, Marshal Dillon?" the Judge asked in some amusement.
"I know it is." Dillon answered without hesitation. "There's not a man in this state won't take my word if I give it, and I won't give it if I can't redeem it. Judge Brooker knows that. Lot of men don't like me, Judge Beck, but even those that don't won't tell you I'm dishonest."
"So what is your point here, Marshal Dillon?"
"My point, Judge, is that there's a promise of a lot more than a hundred dollars behind what's happening here. Where's that money coming from, Judge? You just think on that."
Judge Beck nodded his head, conceding the point. "I admit, Marshal, that I had considered that." The judge rose. "I am going up to Doctor Adams office now to see Miss Russell." He put on his hat and addressed Matt directly, not bothering to look up at him, "You, on the other hand, will not see Miss Russell until this trial is over. Is that clearly understood? I am going to give Doctor Adams instructions to allow no visitors whatsoever until the trial is over. And I want three guards on the doctor's office – top of the stairs, bottom of the stairs, and in the back alley behind. Only men you know and trust, Marshal Dillon."
"I wouldn't have it any other way, Judge." Matt agreed, opening the door for the little man to pass through, but thinking, all the while, that the one man in the world he knew and trusted best was himself.
OoOoO
Doc had a hearty dinner sent over from Delmonico's for himself and Ma Smalley with a cup of soup for Kitty, but the servings were large and the three of them ate well. After dinner, Ma heated a kettle of water and, sending Doc out into the front room, helped Kitty to stand at the washstand and bathe. "I know it's not the same as a tub, Kitty, but it'll be a few days before you side is well enough for that in any case. You'll feel better clean and in your own things."
Mariah had come over earlier with a paper wrapped package of clothing, makeup, and hair things, but Ma had sent most of it back. Gabrielle had returned half an hour later with a long gown made of heavy white flannel, high necked and long sleeved, and the simple navy blue robe that Kitty had been wearing the afternoon she found Spike Marlow's things in her room. Ma had brushed her hair and braided it in a single long tail.
"I feel like a nun," Kitty said.
Ma regarded her critically, and shook her head. "No, you look like a beautiful young woman, but you don't look like a whore or a madam either one. I think you'll do."
"Ma!" Kitty exclaimed.
"Kitty, why do you keep assuming I'm an innocent of some sort?" Ma chided her. "I know what's going on here, I know what's at stake, and I know what that attorney tomorrow is going to try to do."
"Oh, Ma!" Kitty said, "I don't understand why you're so good to me."
Ma tilted her head looked at Kitty, sitting on the side of the bed, "I think I'm going to take the question at face value, Kitty, and give you a real answer." Kitty looked up at her expectantly, "What it comes right down to is the same thing you're trying to do for Ellen Sue, except that Ellie's dead and you're alive."
Kitty shook her head, "I don't understand what you're sayin', Ma."
"Why did you take Ellen Sue in when her family died, Kitty? No, you don't have to tell me, I know. And you kept her there at the Long Branch for nearly a year, and you didn't once let some drunk drifter have his way with her. You protected her, and you gave her work, and you encouraged Johnny Lyon to marry her. She couldn't have asked for a better friend, Kitty. Now when you came to this town, I didn't lift a hand to keep you from turning tricks at the Long Branch, and maybe it was too late for that, but I did try to keep Matt Dillon away from you, although that didn't work either. I think what I'm trying to say here, Kitty, is that I want to stand your friend. There's more people in this town who admire what you've done over the past few years than I think you'd be ready to believe. Just because I serve dinner and you serve whiskey doesn't mean we're not both filling a need for people in Dodge." She stopped as Doc tapped lightly on the door.
"I've set a chair out for her by the window, Mary, and I think I'd like Kitty to sit there and take the air for a while," Doc said, sticking his head through the door.
Kitty stepped slowly through to the front room on Doc's arm, and settled herself by the open window, and then was surprised when Doc blew out the lamp and went back into the bedroom. "That you, Miss Kitty?" came a low voice from next to her at the top of the stairs."
"Oh, Chester! I'm so glad you're there! I wanted to thank you for what you did for me this morning. You were so brave, Chester," Kitty found herself choking just a little. As her eyes got used to the darkness, she could see him standing on the little landing, rifle in his hand.
"I didn't do nothin' special, Miss Kitty, but I'm mighty glad to know you're all right." She saw him turn his head all around, looking about at the dark town. "Now we're gonna change your guard here, Miss Kitty, in just a minute, so you sit quiet there while we do." Kitty didn't ever remember Chester so solemn and serious. She heard his hobbled steps as he descended the stairs, and then heard the heavy tread that she wanted most in the world to hear as Matt Dillon climbed slowly up to the landing. He stood with his back to her.
"I promised Judge Beck I wouldn't see you, Kitty," he said very quietly, "But I didn't say a thing about talking to you. You okay, Kitty?"
"Oh, Matt." At first it was all she could say, but she pulled her voice together and spoke softly and normally, "I'm fine, Matt. Hurt a little bit, and I'm going to have a scar for you when we're done, but Doc's making it out worse than it is to keep me out of the courtroom tomorrow. Are you all right, Matt?"
"Don't worry about me, Kitty. I'm fine. I was a little mad this afternoon, but the Judge and I talked that out some. I think you can trust Judge Beck to be fair. You just remember one thing for me, Kitty, will you do that?" Matt said, speaking into the darkness, his back still turned to her.
"Yes, Matt."
"It's Spike Marlow that's on trial tomorrow. Not you, and not me, and not Ellie. You remember that." Matt said, and then very quietly, just a breath on the air, he said, "I love you, Kitty."
"I love you, Matt," she whispered as he started down the stairs, and then he was gone, and Chester was jump hopping up the top again.
"Where did he go, Chester?" Kitty asked.
"Mr. Dillon's mighty worried about Sheriff Reardon, Miss Kitty. He expected him in here with that Spike Marlow this afternoon, and they haven't shown up yet. I reckon Mr. Dillon's riding out to look for them. But don't you worry, we've got Randy Worth down at the bottom of the stairs, and that Thaddeus Jones fella's going to relieve him at midnight. You're safe here, Miss Kitty, and, well, I think you ought to go get some rest now." Chester told her.
"I will, Chester." Kitty said, not keeping the tears out of her voice now that Matt was gone, "Thank you, Chester." And Doc, who must have been listening for her, was there to walk her back into the bedroom and tuck her into bed. She thought she'd likely lay awake the night through, but she was asleep in minutes.
Ma Smalley peeked in on her at midnight when their guard changed, and then closed the door quietly again. "You may as well lie down here on this cot and get some rest, Mary," Doc told her. He was sitting at his desk with the lamp turned low and his shotgun across his lap.
"I'll do that if you'll promise to wake me in three hours, Galen, so you can get some sleep as well." Ma replied.
"My word on it, Mary." Doc said softly, then grumbled, "We're both getting too damn old for this kind of thing. You'd think we were back holding off Comanches or keepin' buffalo hunters away from your girls."
Ma put a hand on his shoulder and bent down to kiss him lightly. "You'll never be too old, Galen, just admit you thrive on it."
"Hrumpf," was the only answer she heard as she walked over to remove her shoes and lay down on the cot, and in the dim light she didn't see his wise old eyes follow her fondly before returning to their vigilant stance staring towards the door.