Chapter 23- If /Then
Ezra couldn't help but longingly stare at Kitty as she slept, her head leaning against the cold, fogged up train window. Her body gently rocked with the motion of the locomotive, her light pink bow-shaped lips slightly opened, emitting tiny puffs of air. As he'd expected, she looked lovely in the simple, long-sleeved blue dress he'd purchased in the Eldridge Hotel boutique.
He folded his hands in his lap, allowing his mind to wander. Does she even know how beautiful she is? If she were mine, I'd worship the ground she walks on. I would never turn to another woman if I were married to Kitty. Has Matt Dillon lost his mind? Or have I lost mine?! Why did I ask her to help Lydia? Sure, she got her to talk, but now I have to live through her leaving me again. What is wrong with me?
He shook his head, hoping to escape his troublesome musings, actually mumbling out loud, "It's not about you, Roseveare."
"Hmm?" Kitty moaned, shifting in her seat as she continued to sleep. She turned her head to rest upon Ezra's shoulder, placing one gloved hand against his chest.
He ran his hand through his wavy hair, touching the tip of his tongue to his upper lip. God help me the next few days. By then, Lydia should be of enough sound mind to return home to Clarence.
Ezra jumped, startling the slumbering redhead when the conductor unexpectedly bellowed, "Kansas City! Next stop, Kansas City!"
Kitty righted herself, using the big man's chest as leverage. She cleared her throat, swallowing hard, "I'm sorry," she murmured, "I didn't mean t' lay on top of you."
Her traveling companion observed her busying herself by straightening her white coat collar and beginning to secure the buttons of her coat.
"It's okay, Kitty," he reassured her, gently patting her hand, "You needed to sleep. How's the head?"
"Better," she sighed, offering a grin as she stretched her legs in front of her.
"Glad t' hear it, Honey. Glad t' hear it."
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"Happy New Year, señorita Addie and señor Mateo," Luisa said as she served the children glasses of milk, "How was the fiesta?"
"Muy bien, señora," Addie smiled, "y gracias para la leche."
"Ah, querida," the delighted Mexican woman captured Addie's cheeks between her hands, "Tu español es excelente, chica. ¡Muy excelente!"
"Gracias," Addie beamed, reaching for the basket of biscuits.
"Don't tell me. Now you're gonna be a genius at Spanish, too. Ah, chihuahua," Matthew rolled his eyes, accepting the basket from his sister.
"If you'd just pay attention, Matty, you'd catch on, too."
"The name's Matthew," he bit out, "only the grown-ups can call me 'Matty'."
Their attention quickly focused on the side door where Matt had entered, carrying a whimpering Adam. He plopped the child onto the small bench by the door and quickly relieved him of his boots, admonishing, "You've got to stop crying, Son," the big man redirected his attention toward the breakfast table, "Addie, can you please come take these eggs to Luisa?"
"Sí, Papi," she smirked at Matthew before collecting the eggs from her father.
"Show off," Matthew said under his breath, helping himself to some bacon.
"I want my mama!" Scarlett's exclamation traveled from the middle of the staircase, bouncing off the walls as it echoed throughout the house.
"Me, too!" Adam began to howl while Matt squatted in front of him, trying unsuccessfully to calm the boy.
Doc ambled into the sitting room, planting his hands upon his waist. He first stared at the nightgown clad, redheaded toddler on the staircase. She uncontrollably wept, sucking on three of her fingers, tears streaking down her beet-red cheeks. His head snapped to the side door where he spied his middle grandson throwing his head back, bawling as if he had absolutely no self-control.
Abelia appeared at the top of the stairs, wrestling with a disgruntled Maggie. Over the baby's crying she declared, "This child has given up on the goat's milk. I'm about t' pull my hair out."
The elderly man couldn't take one more second of the squawking. He roared, "Here now! What in thunderation is goin' on in here?! This has got t' stop!"
Festus stepped out of the kitchen and whistled through his fingers, the piercing sound causing everyone to freeze. Adam swallowed his tears, hiccupping as he shuddered. Scarlett tightly closed her eyes, a high-pitched whine slipping through her pinched lips. Maggie clung to Abelia's neck, refusing to look down the staircase at anyone while she whimpered.
"Now that's more like it," Matt stood to his full height, looping his thumbs over his belt as he glanced around the rooms, "Thank you, Festus."
"They're jus a faunchin' and a bellerin' and it spread like fleas on a prairie dog," Festus commented, placing a tureen of sausage gravy onto the family table. "Now ya'll come on over and eat ya some good vittles," he motioned with his arms for everyone to join him at the table.
Doc gathered Scarlett into his arms, eventually securing the child onto his lap, while Matt took Maggie from Abelia and fastened her into her high chair.
Once everyone had been seated and their plates had been filled, Matt exclaimed, "Okay, Dillons. Your mother hasn't even been gone a week. I'd like t' think that we can hold it together at least a few more days."
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Matthew?"
"Where's Ezra?"
The former marshal hung his head in defeat. Shit. Where is Ezra?
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Ezra Roseveare fumbled through his pocket to find his key as he and Kitty approached the outer stairs to his combined office and home.
"Do you think we'll find Clarence still here?" Kitty asked, lifting her long coat and dress to ascend the stairs.
"I sure hope so," Ezra answered, guiding Kitty with his large palm pressed against her lower back, "Surely he wouldn't leave her here alone after I sent word to my colleague that we were delayed." He unlocked the door and pushed it inward, waiting for the lady to enter.
"Clarence? Lydia?" the doctor quietly called, walking into his outer office.
"I'll go see if they're asleep," Kitty offered, making her way into the back room.
Ezra's heart skipped a beat when he heard Kitty scream.
"Oh my God! EZRA! Lydia, no…no…help!" Kitty cried as she shed her coat and ran to the side of the bed. She grabbed the top sheet and quickly wound it around Lydia's bleeding wrist, clamping her hand around the woman's apparent self-inflicted wound.
Ezra paused in the doorway for just a split second, taking in the gruesome scene before him. His pale, unconscious patient laid upon the bed; blood splattered on the bedsheets. The doctor sprang into action, planting himself on the opposite side of the bed from Kitty, also using the sheet to stop the bleeding on her other wrist.
"She's still alive," he panted, "otherwise she wouldn't still be bleeding. And look," he nodded his head toward her chest.
"Yes," Kitty's voice quavered, her hands shaking, "it's slowly moving. There's so much blood…"
Ezra quickly tied the sheet before running to retrieve his bag and some bandages from his office. He bandaged the wrist he'd been tending first, then made his way to Kitty's side of the bed to properly bandage the other jagged wound, just to slow the bleeding. The shocked redhead took a step backward, observing the incredible calm that overcame her friend as he checked Lydia's pulse on her neck.
"Kitty, she's going to need to go t' the hospital as soon as possible. I need t' send a messenger for the ambulance."
"The what?!" she scrunched her face, unsure of what he'd said.
"The ambulance," he kept his eyes on his patient, placing the bell of his stethoscope onto her chest, "It's basically a wagon with bells on it that speeds people to the hospital in emergencies." He checked Lydia's pupils, "Kitty, hold her hand. I'll be back as quickly as I can." Before Kitty could respond, Ezra had disappeared out the door.
The terrified redhead tightly held the fragile brunette's hand, clasping it between both of her clammy palms, pleading, "Please, Lydia, please don't die. I promise you; you will feel better. Why didn't you trust me? Please, stay with me…"
Kitty glanced around the room, unshed tears clouding her vision. For the first time, she noticed that some things in the room were out of place. A vase that had been placed on the side table next to the bed had been shattered into a thousand pieces on the other side of the room, and the flowers Clarence had gifted his wife were strewn about. The wingback chair that had flanked the bed laid on its side, and a couple of days' worth of newspapers were scattered here and there. She lowered her head in an attempt to calm herself when she spotted the small, blood-covered, offending scalpel on the wooden floor. Oh, Lydia…if we'd only been here. I'm so, so sorry.
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The weary redheaded woman slouched in a wooden chair outside Lydia Colburn's hospital room. She noticed the blood stains on her dress' cuffs for the first time, preoccupying herself with the question as to whether or not she'd ever be able to wear the pretty blue garment ever again. I wonder if Carol Gibbons knows how to remove blood? She chewed on her bottom lip, knowing deep in her heart she'd never want to wear the frock again.
"Kitty," Ezra startled her, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean t' scare you," he wearily sat in the chair next to her.
"Well? How is she?" Kitty nervously asked, pulling herself into the present.
He sighed, "She's alive. Incredibly weak, but alive."
"The baby?"
"Alive."
Kitty turned in her seat to face the exhausted doctor. Reading the pain written all over his face, she whispered, "It's not your fault, ya know."
"Isn't it?" he quipped, furrowing his brows, his expression stern.
Taken aback by Ezra's seemingly harsh tone, Kitty firmly stated, "No, it isn't. It's not your fault she and Clarence argued. It's not your fault we were delayed. It's not your fault she tried t' take her own life. Not one bit of this is your fault," she briefly placed her hand atop his forearm.
Ezra ran his hand through his hair, refusing to meet her big blue eyes. He leaned over, resting his elbows upon his knees, nervously tapping one heel.
"I should've been here," he coldly stated.
Kitty shuddered at his inference. "Oh, I get it now," she slowly stood, placing her fisted hands upon her hips, "You think it's my fault. You did something to try and help me, and you weren't present for the patient who truly needed your help. If I hadn't a been here, then Lydia wouldn't have slit her wrists. Is that what you're saying, Doctor?"
Ezra sprang to his feet and sturdily grabbed Kitty by her upper arm, hustling her down the short corridor, forcefully guiding her into a room he'd known wasn't occupied.
"Let go of me, Ezra Roseveare," she hissed, trying to jerk her arm free.
"Fine," he growled, "But we are not gonna have this conversation in the Mercy Hospital hallway," he turned his back to Kitty, once again running his hand through his hair.
"Are you angry with me, Ezra?" her tone softened as she concentrated on her friend's anguish.
"No," he whispered, keeping his back to her, "I'm angry with myself."
"Because you chose to help me? Because you chose to take me to Lawrence to show me that I too, would rise up to my former glory?"
Silence enveloped the room, thickening the very air the couple breathed.
Ezra turned to face Kitty, drinking in her entire appearance from head to toe. Her blue dress sported dried blood stains, and wisps of her dark red hair had escaped their assigned pins. She even had some of Lydia's dried blood smeared on her cheek.
Yet in this state of disarray, Kitty Dillon continued to be the loveliest woman he'd ever known. She continued to be the woman he wanted, the woman he loved. She continued to be the woman who willingly belonged to someone else.
"Kitty," he licked his bottom lip as he reached for her hand, "I realized something while talking with my colleague, Dr. Mitchell. If given a choice between helping you or anyone else, I will always help you. I needed to help you become whole, so you can face whatever's waiting for you at home with a clear mind. I'm not angry with you, honestly. I love you too much to be angry with you for my choices."
"Ezra," Kitty gasped at his frankness, shaking her head as she gently pulled her hand away, "I don't think I understand…"
The tall man looked into her deep pools of blue, "You told me you don't feel 'normal' since the loss of your baby. You told me you think your husband is sleeping with other women. You told me you needed a plan, just in case. Kitty, don't ya see?" he reached for both of her hands, "The key to you making a solid plan is being whole. Being confident in who you are and knowing what you want." And I want so desperately for you to want me. To choose me.
Kitty glanced at their now entwined hands, an errant tear slipping down her cheek. She sniffled, "You have helped me, Ezra. I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. And I know what I want."
"What's that?" Please, say me…
Her clear, warm eyes met his, as she firmly stated, "I want my family to be kept whole. I want my children to be raised by both parents, under the same roof. I love my husband."
"What about the young woman who claims to be pregnant by Matt? If it's true, then what?"
Kitty let go of Ezra's hands and slowly walked toward the window. She glanced onto the gas lit street below, sighing, "If it's true, then I have a decision t' make," she shuddered as she wrapped her arms around herself.
Barely above a whisper, the heartsick man asked, "Would you stay with him? Could you?"
"If it's really true, I suppose I could just fall apart. But I can't. I won't," she said resolutely, straightening her spine as she turned to face him, "I won't because I have six little ones that rely on me to keep their world upright. I can do that on my own if I have to. I'm returning home stronger than when I left. That's mostly thanks to you, Dr. Roseveare."
Ezra gently clasped Kitty's shoulders, practically touching his nose to hers, "I disagree, Kitty Dillon. This has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you. You just needed to know that you aren't alone. Not ever. You are strong and a wonderful role model for your daughters. If you ever need me-"
"There you are, Doctor," a woman dressed in a nun's habit frustratingly sighed as she interrupted, stepping into the room. A look of shock washed over her wrinkled face as she noticed the man and woman standing intimately close to one another, his hands resting a bit too familiarly on her shoulders. She abruptly cleared her throat, informing them, "Mrs. Colburn is awake and asking to see Mrs. Dillon."
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Kitty tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep after all that had happened on this tragic New Year's Day. Yes, Lydia Colburn had indeed survived her suicide attempt, but Kitty's heart ached as she replayed some of their conversation in her head.
"Why didn't you let me die?" Lydia hoarsely asked, barely able to open her eyes.
Kitty gently pushed the woman's hair off of her incredibly pale face, "Because you still have a long life to live, Honey, that's why. You need t' trust me on that."
"Why should I? Your husband still wanted you, even though other men had taken from you."
"Clarence has been here for you. He loves you, Lydia. I can see it in the way he looks at you, the way he cares for you."
"We had a fight," the weak woman whimpered, "He said this would be th' only child for us."
Kitty was scared to ask why Clarence might say such a thing, but deep down she'd known. "Why did he say that?"
"I asked 'why', and he said," Lydia whispered, closing her eyes, "he'd never touch me again like that. That I was…dirty."
The redhead began to weep into her pillow, reliving how her husband had begged her to stay with him and their two babies after Jude Bonner and his men had beaten, raped and shot her. Kitty had lingered between two worlds for hours, finally deciding to fight for her life because Matt, Addie and Matthew had loved and needed her as much as she'd loved and needed them. If she had given up, then what would've happened to her family?
Kitty had an immediate desire to be with her family. She would tell Ezra in the morning that she needed to leave, regardless of Lydia's state of mind. It was time for Kitty Russell Dillon to go home.
TBC