This story contains
plot elements and a tiny bit of dialogue from the Season 11 episode of Gunsmoke
entitled “Seven Hours to Dawn” written by Clyde Ware, original air date
September 18, 1965. Directed by Vincent
McEveety.
It was dark by the time Doc knocked on Kitty’s door an hour
later, balancing a heavy tray of food in one hand. When no one answered, he turned the knob and slipped
quietly inside the heavily shadowed room, lit only by a small oil lamp on the
bedside table. The flickering glow
barely illuminated Matt as he slept tranquilly, his steady, even breaths
reassuring to Doc’s practiced ears.
He gingerly set the supper that he’d carried from Delmonico’s
onto a small table and waited for his aged eyes to adjust to the dim light. He finally glimpsed Kitty dressed in a diaphanous
nightgown, seated in a chair by the window in a patch of pale moonlight; his
breath caught in his throat at her fragile loveliness. She was barefooted, knees drawn up to her
chin, staring vacantly out of the window.
The bewitching hair tumbling down her back in vibrant waves contrasted
starkly against her pale, luminous skin even in the silvery blue light of the
moon, and he thought for a moment she could very well be a fairy queen straight
out of his well-worn books of knights and castles and far away kingdoms. Ah, to
be a young man again…
“Kitty?” Doc called softly, reluctant to break the silent, shimmery
spell.
Her gaze never wavered from the window, sapphire blue eyes
liquid in the eerie illumination.
Doc quietly stepped up behind her. “Kitty…” he began and touched her hand. “Kitty, you’re as cold as ice. Let me get you something…”
He found her shawl lying on the back of the settee and quickly
wrapped it around her shoulders. She
looked up at him with a start, finally taking notice that he was in the
room. Then he shuffled over to the
bureau and poured her a sizeable glass of good strong whiskey, which he was sure
would take the chill out of her blood.
He poured himself one as well, and pulled a chair up next to his friend,
handing her the amber glass of liquid warmth.
She held it with both hands and drank deeply. “Thanks, Doc,” she murmured, so quietly he
could barely hear her. She drained the
glass, absently wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Doc took the empty glass from her and set it
on the table, returning to his place beside her. He pulled his chair closer and peered at her
queerly blank expression. At last she
sighed deeply and spoke in a faraway voice.
“I wanted to die, Doc.”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I
really did.”
“Kitty, honey…” Doc’s
voice was strained as he struggled to respond, “I know how awful hard this has
been on you…”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Doc?” She turned to him with a pained expression,
and he swore he could feel his heart breaking right in two. Her tear-filled eyes beseechingly searched
his own. “Why didn’t you tell me Matt was alive?”
“I couldn’t…” he faltered and, frustrated, swiped a hand
over his mustache. “I didn’t know!” He looked intently at her. “I swear, I didn’t know if he was still alive
or not. Not until Festus and I left you
and went to check on him at Percy Crump’s!”
His eyes cast upward, searching for the words to explain to her. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I didn’t want you hurt twice…”
“You didn’t know?” she repeated, confused. Kitty hugged her knees tightly.
“I didn’t know for sure, Kitty. His heart was barely beating there in the
street after they’d shot him. Festus
couldn’t even hear his heartbeat! If I’d
let on Matt was still alive, they’d have killed him, then and there! When I left you in your room, I didn’t know
what I’d find at Percy’s. I very well
may have found a corpse.”
A strangled sound escaped Kitty’s lips at his blunt
statement, and Doc quickly put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Kitty. I’m so sorry about this whole dadgum mess. By the time I got the bullets out of Matt and
thought he might actually pull through, I never had a chance to tell you. That good-for-nothing Barens wouldn’t let you
out of his sight long enough for me to let you know at that point...”
When he’d left Matt in the Long Branch cellar the night of
the raid, Doc had promised him, “I wanna go get Kitty and take her over to Ma
Smalley’s…I’m not gonna leave her for a minute.” Doc had fully planned on giving her the extraordinary
news about Matt’s “greatly exaggerated demise” then.
But when he’d entered Kitty’s room, he was enraged to find Barens,
fly open, standing behind Kitty with one hand gripping her mouth and the other
hand fumbling under her skirts. She was
struggling with all her might, clawing at his face and hands, but the villain
had a sheer strength advantage over her.
Doc dropped his bag to the floor and snarled at him, “Get
your filthy hands off of her!”
Barens ignored him and continued to tear at Kitty’s
clothing, so Doc elbowed him hard in the kidney. Barens let go with a frustrated groan, and
Doc pulled Kitty into his arms, desperately asking, “Are you alright?”
“I’m okay, Doc,” she gasped, but laid her head on his
shoulder, trembling violently. He held
her tightly, patting her back and dragging her further from the man who was
determined to have her, one way or another.
“I’m taking her to Ma Smalley’s to get some rest,” Doc
hoarsely growled at Barens, who was bent at the waist, holding his side. “You keep away from her, you hear?”
“You don’t tell me what to do, old man,” Barens hissed. “What if I want to go with you, huh?”
“Don’t you touch her,” Doc warned menacingly. “I swear, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
Barens laughed. “You? I don’t think so, you old codger.” He straightened up and glared at Doc. “Come on, she wanted it…”
Doc lunged at the man, but Kitty desperately held onto his
arm, pulling him back, “No, Doc!” She
stepped between them, putting her hands on his chest, and pleaded, “I can’t
lose you, too!” She latched eyes with
him. “Please, Doc, let it go...”
Doc straightened his coat and blew out an infuriated breath,
“Come on, Kitty. You need rest. I’ll take you to Ma’s and give you something
to help you sleep.”
“And I’ll go with you,” Barens added threateningly. “I’ll see if this Ma Smalley has anything to
contribute to the ‘cause’.” He
laughed. “Let’s go.”
Doc had wrapped a protective arm around Kitty’s waist and
held her close as they skirted Barens and walked out the door.
At Ma’s, Barens had never left them alone, not for one
minute. He’d hovered at the bedroom
door, watching as Doc finally gave Kitty some powders to help her sleep. At least Doc could give her a few hours’ rest
and peace from this living hell. Doc had
refused to leave her. He sat beside Kitty
on the bed, holding her hand until she quietly drifted off, tears silently
trailing from the outer corners of her strained eyes. After a while, when Barens saw that Doc was
indeed not going to leave his charge, he’d lost interest and left to see what
he could get of value out of Ma.
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“Kitty, honey, you slept through the night. I stayed with you, just like I promised
Matt. I sat in Ma’s parlor while you
slept just to make sure that filthy bastard didn’t come back. And then I woke you the next morning after
shots were fired and it was all over.
That was the first opportunity I’d had to tell you. I took you straight to Matt, sweetheart.”
Kitty laid her head on Doc’s shoulder, wetting his
shirtfront with her mute tears. He patted
her back comfortingly, letting her cry as his own eyes filled at her remembered
pain. This had been a long, hard day for
Kathleen Russell.
To be continued…
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