A Time to Heal, Chapter 3 "Rest..."

This story contains plot elements 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. 

For the second time today Kitty was startled from a deep sleep by the sound of knocking.  This time she lay soaking in bathwater that had long since grown cold.  Dammit, she must’ve fallen asleep in the tub. 

Doc called anxiously to her through the bathroom door, “Kitty, are you okay in there?”

She sat up, scrubbing her face with wet hands, and answered tersely, “I’m fine.  I’ll be out in a bit.”  She rose from the tub, grabbing her towel as she shivered with cold, and scrubbed her dripping skin dry as quickly as possible. 

Kitty donned a simple blue dress, dashed a comb through her tousled hair and tied it back with a satin ribbon.  No time for paint today.  She’d been away from Matt’s side for too long already.  She hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the tub, but her exhausted body must’ve had its own ideas.

“Kitty, you look like a new woman,” Doc declared when she reentered the bedroom. 

Festus stood, hat in hand, and asked, “You feelin’ better, Miss Kitty?  Matthew here’s been sawin’ logs the whole entire time you was gone.  You didn’t miss nothin’, honest Injun’.”

“Thanks, gentlemen.  I’m feelin’ more like myself.”  She returned to her chair close by Matt’s bedside and tucked a stray curl behind her ear.  “You two can leave now.  We’ll be fine.”

“Are you positive, Miss Kitty?  Me and Doc kin keep you comp’ny…”

“No, thanks, Festus.  I’d rather be alone right now.  It’s been a long day.”

Festus’s brows raised in surprise at Doc, but the two took their cue from their friend.  “Come on, Festus.  Let’s give Kitty some peace and quiet.”  Doc put on his hat, grabbed his bag and added, “I’ll be back later to check on Matt.  If you need anything, just tell Sam and he can get word to us.”  Doc’s piercing gaze made Kitty look away.  “Are you sure you’re gonna’ be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, Doc.  You go ahead and get yourself some rest.  You had a busy night. ”

The two men shuffled out the door, shooting quick backward glances her way, and Kitty sank back into her chair, heaving a weary sigh when she heard the latch close at last.  She tiredly pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a nagging headache coming on, then rose to check on Matt. 

Gently placing a hand on his forehead to check for fever, she let her fingers linger, reveling in the warmth of his skin, so different from what she’d been imagining only a few hours earlier when she’d thought Matt was…dead.  Gone forever.   She shivered involuntarily and closed her eyes, as if doing so would block the nightmare images overrunning her imagination.  But he’s alive, she reminded herself for the hundredth time.  Alive. 

She took his big hand in hers to reassure herself and placed a feather-light kiss on his fingers.  Gazing at his right thumb, she spied the scar where he’d badly burned his finger once frying fish over a fire for a picnic they’d had by the river three…no, four years ago?  Had it really been that long?  She’d insisted he cool his burned hand in the river, and they’d both ended up soaking wet.  Their clothes took forever to dry, draped over bushes in the sun, but neither of them had really minded…

She noticed a telltale chewed fingernail, a bad habit she’d nearly broken him of, but evidently he still did it occasionally when she wasn’t around to catch him.   There was also dried blood under his nails.  She shuddered at the thought.  She would be sure and get that taken care of during his next bath.

Suddenly Matt’s fingers tightened in a weak grip on her wrist and tugged her nearer.  She was struck as always by the sight of his beautiful crystal blue eyes which seemed capable of seeing clear down inside her.  Today, though, his eyes were creased with pain, piercing her heart clean though.  His usual strong, confident voice was hoarse and weak, and she leaned close to hear him as she ran her fingers through his dark, tangled curls.  She heard him whisper, “Lay down…”  He pulled her closer to the bed.  “Rest...”

She kissed his forehead lightly, then slipped under the covers with him, taking care not to jostle his battered body, and lay down beside him.  His fingers tightened around her own, and he gave a quiet sigh, his eyes quickly drifting closed as she stroked his hand.  He was asleep again in an instant.  She lay on her side, watching him sleep for a very long time, until she felt herself drifting off with the comforting sound of Matt’s soft breathing in her ears, reassuring her own battered heart.

To be continued…

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