Deliver Us from Evil, Ch. 13 "Still Waters"

Matt Dillon gratefully left his exhausted horse with two young Indian boys who eagerly met him at the edge of the Cheyenne encampment the minute he rode up.  Taking his reins, they pointed mutely toward the tepee where he’d reluctantly left Kitty to go after her attackers.  He looked over his shoulder as they led his horse away to give it food and water, emphatically waving him away once again.  Matt nodded and tipped his hat in gratitude, then ambled as quickly as his weary legs would carry him toward the woman he loved. 

Matt stooped low to enter the tent, heart racing, terrified of what he’d find.  His knees grew weak and he blew out a relieved breath at the sight that greeted him.   Tired eyes burning, he spied Kitty lying peacefully asleep, Doc smiling up at him from her side. 

Doc murmured under his breath, “It’s about time you got back, young man.  Someone’s been askin’ for you.”

“She’s been asking for me?” Matt whispered in wonder as he settled himself beside his old friend.  “Is she gonna be alright, Doc?”

Doc’s rheumy eyes looked at him earnestly, and he answered in a hushed voice, “I think so, son.  I think she’s gonna be fine.  She just needs a lot of rest.”

Matt’s fingers reached out to lightly brush her face, and he couldn’t help but notice sleep-flushed rosy cheeks cast against her healthy complexion.  She slept so deeply, a tranquil sleep, a healing sleep. 

Doc asked, “Where’s Virgil?”

“He took Carter Graves to jail for me.”  Matt looked evenly at Doc.  “So that I could come be with Kitty.”

“Well, good for you...”  Doc beamed at him and jabbed a finger in his direction.  “This is where you belong.”

Matt’s ears turned pink and he picked self-consciously at a fingernail. 

Curiously, Doc squinted at him.  “Hey, what about that other fella, that Indian, name of …Kotori?”

Matt continued looking down at his hands.  “He’s dead, Doc.”

“You don’t say?”  Doc glanced speculatively at Kitty.  “Somehow I’m not quite surprised.”

“Whatta you mean?”

“Some of the young Cheyenne braves found a dead screech owl…”

Matt’s voice raised a notch as he repeated, “Screech owl?”

Ill-at-ease, Doc scrubbed his mustache and shook his head.  “Oh, never you mind.  I don’t quite believe it myself.”  He began to rise from the floor with a steadying arm from Matt.  “I’m gonna go hunt me down some grub, young man, and get a little sleep over by the fire.  I suggest that you stay right here…”  Doc raised a bushy eyebrow at him.  “…where you belong…and get a little rest, too.  You look terrible!”

ljljljljlj

Matt sat tiredly by Kitty’s side after Doc left, wanting so badly to reach out and touch her just to reassure himself, needing so much to wake her and hear the sound of her voice.  But Matt knew she required rest in order to get well, so he valiantly resisted the urge.  The warmth of the nearby fire made him drowsy, his eyelids drooped and his muscles slowly relaxed until he began nodding off and woke with a start.  Matt sighed.  Doc had told him to get some rest, and he’d be no good to anyone until he slept.  Wearily, he stretched out without making a sound on the buffalo robe bed beside Kitty, careful not to touch her, and began nodding off to sleep as soon as his head hit the soft hides.  He heard Kitty make a small sound in her sleep, and then he felt slim arms wrap around his middle, her supple body molding itself to his, her warm breath on his shoulder as she sighed in contentment.  Matt slid his hand to the small of her back, gently pressing her closer, smiling as he drifted off to sleep in Kitty’s arms.

tbc

ljljljljlj