Chapter Thirty Doc Holliday & Katie Elder

Freedom came my way one day
And I started out of town, yeah!
All of a sudden I saw sheriff John Brown
Aiming to shoot me down,
So I shot - I shot - I shot him down and I say:
If I am guilty I will pay.
I Shot The Sheriff
Bob Marley

Daniel woke up with a start. He looked over at Calla who was still sleeping though she was making little whimpering sounds as she dreamed.  He had the sudden urge to find Ares but he didn’t want to leave her alone, sleeping or not.  Daniel threw on a pair of blue jeans and a sweat shirt before creeping out of the room and down the hall to David’s room.

“David,” he whispered as he knocked lightly on the door. “David get up.”

There was no answer to his call. Daniel opened the door to find his brother sleeping deeply in his bed.  So deeply he wouldn’t wake up when Daniel shook him.

**

Old Doc Holliday was far from a ladies man and Katie Elder was no beauty queen, which was evidenced by one of her least favorite nicknames; Big Nose Kate though she imagined the nicknamed could imply that she was of the nosey variety. A fact Kate would not deny if asked, she loved a good bit of gossip. Doesn’t everyone?

Love finds a home in the strangest and sometimes the most barren of places such as the heart of gunslinger and a sporting woman.  The Old West was a hard place to live and an even harder place to thrive it took guts and gumption, man or woman, to live here and make a name for themselves.  Those were things Doc and Katie had in common.  They both lived hard and took no prisoners.  In the fall of 1877 in Fort Griffin, Texas they met in a saloon where it was lust if not love at first sight.

Katie was an uncommon creature out here in the wild, she was intelligent both book-wise and streetwise. Born in Budapest, Hungry, under the proper name of Mary Katherine Haroney, the daughter of a very wealthy physician, she was educated at the finest schools and spoke several languages.  These included her native language, Hungarian, along with French, Spanish and English. She had been raised to be a woman of good breeding and to marry a man within her stature. For the first fourteen tender years of her wild life Katie intended to do just that. She’d lived in Hungry and moved to Mexico when her father obtained the position of surgeon to Maxamillian then leader of the country.  Very prestigious indeed.  As it often happens in life things don’t always go as planned and when Maxamillian’s government fell Doctor Haroney took his family and left Mexico for Iowa in 1865.  Old Doc Haroney didn’t live much longer and neither did his faithful wife, both of whom died before the summer of 1865 of unknown causes leaving 14 year-old Katie in foster care where her life took a sudden and drastic turn for the worse.  Otto Smith, the man who took in the poor waif, wasn’t the kind of man anyone would want raising their daughter and when she was 17 she took off by stowing away on a steamboat where she ended up going to convent school and graduating in 1869.

No man out here wanted an educated woman least wise one more educated than he was and it wasn’t long before Katie turned to prostitution as a way to make a living. By 1874 she was in Dodge City, Kansas working in a brothel run by Nellie Earp, wife of James Earp, older brother of Wyatt.  Life was hard and all of the cowpokes around her were good for just that; poking cows.  They reeked of sweat, blood, manure and liquor and all of them were as unmannered and unkempt as they came and just about as intelligent as the cattle they tended.  Katie gave as good as she got and whenever one of them dared manhandle to her he was apt to find a shank embedded deep in his private parts.

In 1878 Katie found herself in Fort Griffin, Texas where she met up with Wyatt Earp and, through him, Doc Holliday.  She had a brief fling with Wyatt but it was Doc that really caught her attention and whose attentions she craved.  Katie was never sure what it was about him, perhaps it was merely the fact that John Holliday was a genuine dentist which meant he was an educated man.  Not only that but he could converse in Latin, French and even ancient Greek. One thing was for sure, Doc Holliday was unlike any of the cowboys and outlaws she’d come across. It wasn’t long before the two were seen together often and everywhere; the well-educated prostitute and the man who’d taken down his shingle in favor of a six-shooter and a deck of cards though Doc was just as likely to cut your throat or shove a shiv in your belly as he was to shoot you down. Doc loved his knife.  To Katie’s eyes and the eyes of several ladies, Doc Holliday was quite the handsome man with his ash blonde hair and deep blue eyes. She quite liked the thick mustache and imperial beard he sported.

By the time Katie met him, though the disease he suffered from had a tight hold on him, one still wouldn’t know it by looking at him. Doc hid it well and it hid it long except from those closest to him.  The fact was that shortly after graduating from Dental School—near the top of his class—John Holliday was diagnosed with consumption or tuberculosis as we would know it today. He wasn’t given long to live but he was convinced a drier climate would help extend his life and so in 1873 he moved from his home state of Georgia to Dallas, Texas and opened a dental practice not far from the spot where 90 years later a man by the name of John Fitzgerald Kennedy would be shot and killed as he drove through Dealey Plaza in an open carriage.  Unfortunately for the young Doc Holliday it didn’t take him long to realize it was going to be difficult to make a good living in his chosen profession.  If he were in practice today old Doc would be rolling in it what with straightened and whitening and even just filling and cleaning but in the Old West no one cared much about teeth so long as they worked it didn’t matter how many one had or what shape they were in.  Frustrated with his lack of financial success and a bit depressed Doc took the local saloons and poker playing to while away the time.

It didn’t take him long to understand that one could make a great deal more US tender playing poker than they could poking around at people’s teeth.  In 1874 he was arrested and indicted for illegal gambling with a dozen or so others who’d been unlucky enough to be in the backroom when the local sheriff decided he was bored one night and raided the place.  The sheriff was just as apt to be sitting at the table on any given night but that didn’t seem to bother him.  In 1875 Doc was arrested for engaging in a shoot out on a public street. No one was injured, thankfully and so Doc stood trial patiently—though he was far from a patient man he was, he thought, a respectable man—at the end of it he was found not guilty and set free. The gambling charge, however, stuck to him like glue. He had to pay a hefty fine and after that thought it best to resume his travels across the western part of the United States of America.

Doc was a restless spirit and a man plagued by a hot temper and a horrible disease which caused him much pain.  Vicodin and Oxycontin being more than a century away and opium inaccessible, Doc used alcohol to control the pain or at least keep it down.  He was drunk as often as he was sober as he wandered from place to place padding his pockets and getting into one scuffle or another. Doc firmly believed that death by gunfire or blade was far better than the slow agonizing death of consumption he’d rather go out in a blaze of glory than as some heap of useless diseased flesh.  It was this attitude and his hot temper which crossed and fated him to never settle in one place very long. Through the years of his life Doc Holliday, though much feared, never lost that underlying air of a refined gentleman one with a very sharp sense of humor who had something caustic to say about damn near everyone.

In 1877 Doc found himself in Fort Griffin, Texas and in the company of Wyatt Earp a very even tempered and cool-headed man and Katie Elder. While he might be dying, Doc Holliday was the most fully alive man Katie Elder ever came across.  He lived life in the moment and for the moment, she loved that about him.  No promises. No tomorrow. Just here. Just now.

One night, not very long after they first met and in the saloon where Katie worked Doc got into a bit of trouble over a game of poker and ended up gutting a bully by the name of Ed Bailey who wasn’t very much liked in town but who was of the town and Doc was not.  Katie, along with a dozen or more other people, saw the whole thing go down. Doc won a very large pot and Ed accused him of cheating. The bully stood up drawing his six-shooter but Doc was quicker and he drew that sharp blade he so loved to carry across the man’s gut flaying him where he stood and subsequently slumped over the table which had to be thrown away after that.  Doc Holliday wasn’t the sort of man who ran easily and so he stood his ground mainly because he knew his action to be in self-defense as did those who witnessed the event.  Sheriff John Brown arrested him, took him away in handcuffs right before Katie’s eyes and then put Doc in jail.  Katie went to visit him that night and Doc wasn’t worried he told her any jury would find him not guilty and he was right but he forgot that the man he killed, while largely un-liked, was still one of their own.  Just as she left the jail for the night Katie caught sight of the lynch mob coming down the dirt street.  It wouldn’t be long before they overtook the sheriff and his men, who wouldn’t really try to stop them to begin with, and they would hang Doc right there in the street.

Katie was anything but a coward and nothing was going to stand in the way of her being with her man, not even an angry lynch mob.  Something else Katie happened to be was sly.  Near the jailhouse was an old shed dried out from years of the hot sun beating down upon it.  Creeping over to it with the fading light hiding her from sight she let the lynch mob get a little closer before she set the shed to blaze.  It went up like an old tinderbox and soon flames threatened the entire town.  The lynch mob and the lawmen quickly forgot about Doc Holliday in their effort to dowse the fires springing up. 

One lone lawman, Joe Brown the sheriff’s brother, stayed behind to guard Doc while the others battled the growing flames.  Katie snuck up on him with a pistol cocked and ready in each hand. “You best be givin’ that to me, Joey Brown.” She demanded as she looked at the six-shooter in its holster on his waist.  “Go on, put it over there on the desk nice and easy like.”  Katie waived the gun in her right hand at him to show him she was serious.

“Katie, what in God’s name are you doin’, woman?” Doc hissed from his cell unable to believe the sight of the stout saloon girl with the pistols in her hands.

“You be quite, Doc.” She hissed back. “And you, do as I say and do it now. I won’t tell ya again.” Katie threatened and watched Joe Brown carefully unholster his gun and lay it on the sheriff’s desk. “Now you walk,” Katie ordered and herded the deputy toward the empty cell. “Get in there.” She gave him a mighty shove on the back and propelled him into the small cell.  “Be a good boy and you be quiet.” She told him and slammed the door shut.  Katie turned the gun in her left hand around and put it through the bars to Doc. “Take it.”

“They’ll hang you for this.” Doc warned.

“Let ‘em try.” Katie dared and plucked the cell keys from the peg on the wall. She unlocked the door and set Doc Holliday free.

She was one brazen woman that Katie Elder and Doc couldn’t help but love her.  The two escaped into the night with the sounds of crackling fire and smell of smoke fading behind them.  They hid out in a barn for the remainder of the night, making love until past dawn, when the sun rose they stole two horses and rode off for parts unknown.  They hid out for a while in Dodge City, Kansas, staying in a boarding house under the names of Dr. & Mrs. J. H.  Holliday.

For a time Doc and Katie did their best to make it work and live a respectable life.  He gave up gambling and hung up his shingle once more, she put away her saloon dress and her garters.  Free spirits are just that; free and they can never be truly tamed.  Even when they fall in love and desire to be with each other it doesn’t always work, such as the sad tale of Doc Holliday and Katie Elder, they were simply too much alike to spend much time together. Both of them hot headed and quick tempered they fought often and with as much passion as they made love.  Doc started gambling and getting in trouble, she started hanging around the saloons. They parted company for a while but, by Fate, hooked up again a few months later.  Each deciding they’d rather be with the other, faults and all, than without them they spent the next few years wandering from Colorado to New Mexico. He gambling and getting into trouble and she trying to tend the bar more than the upstairs rooms.

While in New Mexico they came across Wyatt Earp once more. Wyatt was headed to Arizona and a place called Tombstone.  In the fall of 1880 Doc and Katie decided to tag along and check things out.  Less than six months after their arrival in the small but booming town there was a stagecoach robbery in which a man had been shot and killed.  The authorities in the nearby town of Prescott thought Doc looked good for the crime as he was a known consort of one of the robbers who had been caught. Sheriff John Behan, a personal friend of the man killed, determined to make it his mission to bring in Doc Holliday and see him stand trial for the dastardly crime.

Doc had been on a losing streak at a new game called blackjack and Katie had taken to making money on the side on her back…behind Doc’s back to pay their rent at the boarding house.  One night, not long after the robbery/murder, he came back to their room drunk and she reeked of other men.  They had a horrible knock-down-drag-fight in which neither of them would give a single inch. The fight contained much pushing and shoving on both of their parts and it ended when Doc shouted at her; “You’re nothing but a whore, Katie Elder! Nothing but a goddamn filthy whore!”

Katie grabbed up her purse and stormed out of the room.  She marched right down to the saloon and sat at the bar where she told the bartender to bring her a full bottle and leave it on the bar. It just so happened that Sheriff John Behan was in town that night and he’d been walking by the boarding house and heard the Doc and Katie arguing along with whomever else happened to wandering the street at the moment.  He watched through the window as they argued and he heard the harsh words Doc spat at her.  When she ran out the front door he saw an opportunity and followed her to the saloon. The Sheriff, who happened to be a rather imposing figure, an exceedingly tall man with long wavy raven hair and rugged good looks, let her stew at the bar for a while and work up a good head of steam as she bitched to anyone who’d listen what a lousy low-down rat Doc Holliday was.  When she was good and railing he wandered up to her and offered to pay for the entire bottle Katie was about halfway through. She let him. Everyone saw them sitting there drinking together and everyone saw them leave together.

Later that night Sheriff John Behan, not trusting the job to Doc Holliday’s good pal, Virgil Earp, arrested Doc on charges of stagecoach robbery and murder.  He marched right down to the local hotel with a warrant in his hand on which the ink had yet to dry. The Sheriff pulled Doc out of a poker game telling him that Katie got sauced and spilled the beans. Not only that, she swore that she’d testify in court.

Doc, who was still steaming mad for his earlier argument with the woman was now fit to be tied as he was lead, in handcuffs, from the hotel to the jail where the Sheriff kept a close eye on him all through the night telling him how he was going to hang after he was given a fair trial.

The next morning a slightly battered, disheveled but sober Katie went to Marshall Virgil Earp to recant her testimony of the prior night to Sheriff Behan.  That wasn’t easy to do with the big man sitting right there glaring at her but she managed it. Katie said she was drunk and she didn’t remember half the night after their argument let alone the exact words she said to him.  With his witness gone Sheriff Behan had no choice but to release Doc.  A free man once more the first thing Doc Holliday did was to tell Katie Elder he never wanted to see her again.

Katie was heart broken and she threw herself at him back in their room at the Fly Boarding House. “Please, Doc, I’m sorry.” She begged as she started to cry and slid down Doc’s long lean body to hold onto his leg. “I’m sorry, don’t go, Doc.”

“Get out of my life and stay out, Mary Katherine.” Doc said gruffly and then kicked her away from him as though she were a puppy that had peed on the floor. “You turned me in and for what? A lousy bottle of rock gut?  You never were any good.” Without another word Doc Holliday finished packing his bag and moved out of their room in the boarding house. If she’d turned him in for something he had done, that would be one thing.  If she’d turned him in for something he had done because he raised his hands to her that’d be one thing too.  If she’d turned him in under penalty of death, possibly at the hands of Sheriff John Behan, that would be one thing.  But, to begin with, this was something he hadn’t done and Katie knew that full well. Worse than that, the word was all over the town that she hadn’t done it for any of those reasons, no local gossip held it that Katie did it out of spite and for a rotten bottle of booze.  THAT was another thing and that wouldn’t be tolerated by Doc Holliday who liked to think he traveled with a more upstanding class of people. Most of all he, he was hurt and shaken by it.  He thought he knew Katie and he thought what they shared was pretty darn special but it looked like he’d been wrong the past few years.

Although they stayed in Tombstone, indeed they stayed in the same boarding house they went their separate ways until October 26^th of that same year when there ensued the most famous gunfight of all time.  After which Doc would publicly boast for the press about the glory of the fight but in private, that night, after he nearly crawled to her door, Doc wept about how awful it had been as Katie bandaged the wound on his hip.  It wasn’t bad, little more than a graze but she put three stitches in it for him anyway.  He hadn’t spoken to her in almost four months then the gunshots rang out today and they filled the air all around with their loud reports.  All Doc thought during those thirty terrible seconds was that he hoped he lived through it because he really wanted to see Katie again. She hadn’t been far from the action though she wasn’t close enough to witness it, people took cover in the streets and ran into the nearest building as the shots rang out, the acrid stink of gunpowder filled the air and men cried out in anger and pain.

Doc, who’d been in more than his share of scuffles, who drank and gambled and even took a life or two, had never been involved in a gunfight, a real fully blown gunfight, until today. Taking a pull off the bottle of bourbon he looked over at her with watery eyes. “It was awful, Kate, I don’t want to go through anything like that again.” Doc shook his head trying to clear the images from it but he knew it would be a long time, during which there would be many bottles of booze and many sleepless nights, before they went away.

“It’s all right now, Doc, it’s over and I’m here.” She soothed. Yes, it must have been terrible.  It certainly sounded that way to her ears which could still hear the echo of gunfire.  “It’ll all be all right, you’ll see.”

“What did I ever do to deserve an angel like you?”  Doc asked and reached out for her hand.  “Have I ever told you what a fine woman you are, Katie Elder?”

“Only when you were on top of me,” she returned in an amused voice and kissed the hand holding hers, she couldn’t help it, Doc’s last words to her about her being a filthy whore rang in her head. They’re a far cry from ‘you’re a fine woman’.  “You rest now, Doc.  Mornin’ ‘ll come and it’ll be a new day.”  Finished with his dressing she covered him with the blanket and kissed his forehead.  He was warm and he looked almost gray as though someone had covered him a light coating of soot.

“Sounds like a right fine idea,” Doc mused and pulled her down to him.

“You’re not in any shape for this,” Katie protested but didn’t pull away.

“It’s just a scratch, Katie, don’t you worry about my shape none.  I’ll show ya how good I am.”

Doc always was good, it was one of the things she’d always loved him. The other cowboys and the ranchers and them they only cared about getting in, getting theirs and getting out.  But not Doc.  Maybe it was because of his illness and he knew he couldn’t always perform up the best of standards which had caused him to seek out other ways of pleasuring a woman. What wonderful ways they were! Still Katie hesitated and she pulled back from him.

“What’s wrong, Katie darlin’?” Doc asked as he stared down at her.

“Ya broke my heart, Doc.” She said in a small voice and looked away from him.

“You broke mine first.” He reminded her.

Katie had more she wanted to say but thought better of it, what difference did it make now? What’s done was done and it couldn’t be undone not even by a man like a Doc.  “I didn’t mean to.” Katie whispered.  “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Hush up, woman, and give this to me.” He tugged on the material on her dress.

Doc always felt so good and so right when he was up there that Katie just couldn’t say no. That was the last time Doc Holliday and Katie Elder made love together.  It was a night they’d both remember for the rest of their lives.

After that things got a little uncomfortable in Tombstone. While Virgil Earp was the duly appointed town martial and Morgan Earp the duly appointed town deputy Wyatt and Doc were not duly appointed anything though Virgil argued he’d sworn them in as temporary deputies and that was within his power.  Rumors began to circulate that the Clanton gang had been unarmed and the group of lawmen and vigilantes had simply mowed them down in the street.  That was not true, but nonetheless the group was soon seen as having over-reached its authority even though they were never so much as indicted on charges of murder.

Katie and Doc tried but couldn’t mend their relationship.  Doc could never truly get over her turning him in like that and so he couldn’t trust her no matter how much he wanted to. A month or so later she moved on without him though no other man ever came close to holding her heart.  She disappeared for a while and then he heard she’d surface in a town called Globe where she opened a respectable boarding house under a new name.  Well, not too respectable, he heard there was gambling and liquor in one of the backrooms on the first floor. Doc also heard that she’d given up the life of a sporting woman and, in his heart Doc hoped it was for good. Maybe one day Katie might see that she was good for more than laying on her back. 

Doc stayed in Tombstone another few months until he and the Earps got the revenge they sought on the cowboys and the Clantons then he moved about the west aimlessly for quite a while until he settled in Glenwood Springs, Colorado in 1887.  In was on the journey between the two towns that Doc found himself in a hole in the wall town called Costilla on the Colorado/New Mexico border that Doc uncovered some disturbing information.  He’d been walking down the street, bottle in one hand and the other on the butt of his gun but minding his own business nonetheless when he heard it.

“I’m tellin’ ya me and the boys got that whore good!”

At first Doc kept walking though he took note of the small group of cowpokes gathered around in an alley.  He also noted the man they were gathered around, he had short dark hair and a thick handlebar mustache.  Doc thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place him right away.

“Too bad the whore took it back,” one of those gathered bemoaned, “that old bastard should be rottin’ in jail and from that disease.”

“Tell us agin, tell is agin, Bobby, tell us how you held dat bitch down and put it to her.” Someone else encouraged.

Doc quietly made his way to the corner of the nearest building and pulled on the cuffs of his shirt which weren’t hanging quite right beneath his jacket.  He listened as Bobby told how he and a group of men formed by none other than Sheriff John Behan had taken the drunken whore to a barn.  They poured more liquor down her throat before they held her down, beat her and raped her until she finally said that old Doc Holliday held up the stagecoach and murdered the driver.  Doc remembered the distraught look in her eye and the bruise around it as she sat there telling Virgil she’d been drunk and didn’t know what she was saying.  At the time Doc didn’t really think to wonder how she’d gotten the black eye or the fat lip, drunken whores stumble, they fall and they run into things. Besides, he was still too pissed off at her to care.

The next thing Bobby and Doc for that matter knew was there was a gun cocked and ready and it was aimed at Bobby’s head.  “You swear, boy?” Doc asked.

The sun was behind the man with the gun and none of them could get a clear look at him.  “Put that down, mister.” Bobby protested but held his hands up just the same.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said, do you swear? Right here, right now, before the Good Lord Himself and all the Saints, under penalty of death, do you swear what you just said is the absolute truth?”

“Yeah, I swear.” Bobby stuttered. “What’s it to ya?”

Doc took one step forward and blocked the sun behind him. “Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Doc Holliday.” With that he blew Bobby’s head damn near clean off his shoulders before turning the gun on the nearest runt. “You? You have anything to do with it?”

“N-no,” the kid said and began to back away. “We was just listin’ ta him tell us a story, that’s all.”

Doc looked at him and the other three with him long and hard before handing out a bit of advice. “Go home to your mother.”  While he didn’t put down the gun he did raise the half empty bottle to his lips and took a bit pull as he watched the young man scatter and run away.  He looked down at the dead man on the ground. “Katie,” he whispered to no one.  “Oh Katie.” Doc would undertake the idea of going to look for her but the last he heard Katie Elder went and found herself a husband.  No sense in stirring up bad old times for her now.

Within a few weeks, sick and dying, Doc found a final home in Glenwood Springs, Colorado where he managed to purchase a small house.  His last days were lonely as he rotted away in his bed too sick to go out and the news regarding the fact that consumption was highly contagious came out.  No one came to see him and only the local delivery boy from the general store ventured to his doorstep where he left a box of groceries including several bottles of bourbon twice a week without ever coming inside.

As it turned out Katie Elder had left Globe, Arizona and resided in a town called Redrock, Colorado and it wasn’t long before the news reached her ears that Doc Holliday was merely two towns over and dying. She’d been married two years now to a very nice man by the name of George Cummings, an Irish blacksmith.  They had a respectable family which consisted of a one year-old daughter named Jenny.  When she heard about Doc Katie couldn’t help herself, she made up a story about needing to go away for a few weeks to be with a sick friend.  George Cummings was no fool he’d heard the stories of Doc Holliday being in the area but Katie was a force of nature and no one could stop her once she set her mind to something.

With her heart in her throat Katie knocked upon the door of Doc Holliday’s modest home. At first when he opened the door she didn’t think he recognize her, she hardly recognized him he was so gaunt and thin.  “Katie?” He said behind a thick veil of mucus. “That you, Katie?”

“Of course it’s me, Doc. Are you going to invite me in?”

“Aren’t you afraid you’re going to catch it?” He asked as he held a bloody white rag to his mouth and gripped the door with an ashen hand for support with the other.

“You never gave me anything I didn’t want or deserve now back up and let me in.”

Weak and disoriented, Doc stepped back from the door and almost tripped over his own two feet but Katie caught him by the elbow and guided him to the sofa.  “What are you doing here?”  He choked, each word, each breath so difficult. Doc felt as though he were drowning and there wasn’t so much as a glass of water in sight.  “I heard you got a new man, a husband, he know you’re here?”

“Does it matter?” She asked and took off her gloves as she made her way to his kitchen to see what old Doc had in stock and what he didn’t. She’d go to the store in a little bit and get him whatever he needed. In her head she made a list of the items she would purchase before making her way back to where he was slumped on the sofa.  “Look at you, Doc.”

Doc Holliday didn’t want anyone’s pity or their sympathy least of all hers.  Still, she sure was a sight for these sore watery eyes.  “You still making your livin’ on your back, Katie?” He shot, his temper uncooled by his condition.  Doc weakly held up a hand and shook his head. “I’m sorry, that was mean and uncalled for. I am most grateful you’re here, Katie.”

“I haven’t made my living on my back in a long time, Doc.” Katie said with a sigh.  “I see you haven’t changed very much.”

Doc snickered and a thick wad of bloody mucus flew from his lips.  “I’d say I’ve changed quite a bit.” He countered feebly. “Still, it’s kind of you to say.”

Katie had come here with two purposes in mind she’d get to the second one in time.  “Why don’t you let me help you to bed?  After that I’ll go into town and get some supplies.”

“How long you plannin’ on stayin’ Katie?”

“Until you don’t need me anymore.” She whispered and slipped an arm around him to help him from the couch to the bed where he spent so much time lately.  Katie swabbed his sweating forehead and told him to rest she’d be back soon.  Doc slept while Katie went into town and restocked his kitchen and medical supplies.  She tended him for two days watching him grow sicker by the hour until he could hardly hold up his own head any longer.

On the third day, just before he passed, they both found a way to broach the subjects lying so heavily between them.  After supper Katie came into him with a steaming cup of tea and slathered mustard on his chest.   “I got something to tell ya, Doc, and I want you to promise me that you won’t get mad and go upsetting yourself.”

Doc could barely speak and when he tried that thick mucus came with his words and it was bloodier than ever before.  “What?”

“Promise first.”

He couldn’t get upset if his feet were on fire but Doc nodded his agreement just the same and watched her get up and leave the room only to come back with her purse.  When she sat next to him again she opened it. “I got something to show you.”  Katie pulled something out of her satchel and put it in front of him. Doc stared at the picture of the boys, twins, who were staring back at him from their place frozen in time. She cleared her throat and took a breath before she spoke again. “That’s Nathaniel and Dennis,” she said with something that sounded like pride.

Doc didn’t understand.  “Fine lookin’ boys.” He managed and looked up at her.

“Yeah, they are.  They’re your sons, Doc.” Katie confessed.  “They live with a nice respectable family in New Mexico. I go to see them every now and then.” There were tears in her eyes.  “I hope you understand, Doc, about me givin’ them away. I couldn’t care for ‘em and, well, to be honest with you, I was afraid for ‘em.  If anybody found out who their Daddy was then…”

“Maybe they’d come lookin’ for ‘em.” Doc finished. Yes, he understood. “It’s ok, darlin’.”

“They look so much like you.”

Doc looked from her to the picture and back again before he held the photograph close to his chest.  She’d gone and given him sons and he didn’t even know it.  He never should have turned his back on her like that, he should have known she’d never turn him especially not over something he hadn’t even done.  “I’m sorry, Katie.” Doc whispered and held an arm out to her.  Katie moved in a little closer and laid her head on his.  “My angel,” he whispered.  “I’m sorry.”

Katie kissed the top of his head. “It’s ok, Doc. You save your strength now and stop talking.  I just wanted you to know about them.”  She tried to move away but Doc found a last bit of strength and tightened the arm around her shoulders to keep her in place.

“I know,” Doc said directly in her ear, “I know what they did to you.” Katie pulled away and stared down at him. “Why didn’t you say something?”

This wasn’t what she’d come here to talk about and the subject hit her quite by surprise. “Does it matter?”

“I wish…you had.” Doc confessed as he held onto her hand and the photograph.  If he hadn’t been so angry with her that night, if hadn’t called her a dirty whore then she never would have stormed off right into the path of the vindictive John Behan. “I killed one of them.”

“What? Aww, Doc.” Katie dabbed a tear away from her eye.  “It’s over now. It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter but thank you, I sure do appreciate the gesture.”  Yes, she did appreciate it very much. Katie would like very much to know which one of those bastards Doc shot but what did it matter?  So long as he got one of them that was good by her. When Doc found the strength to extend his arm one last time, Katie took the opportunity to curl up at his side.  The breath in his lungs wasn’t raspy it was watery it sounded as though there wasn’t any room for air in there because it was filled to the brim with blood and mucus. She kissed his cheek. “I always loved you, Doc, only you.”  Katie ventured a kiss on his lips before she put her head on his chest.

“I love you too, Katie Elder.” Doc said in nothing more than a whisper.  Holding her again was like a slice of heaven, as though God Himself came down and blest him with one last wonderful miracle before he passed from this world straight through the Gates of Hell. “You should have told me about those men and these boys, I would have done right by you, Katie.  I would have.”

Yes, maybe he would have. Most certainly would have.  In his heart of hearts John Henry “Doc” Holliday was a gentleman.  He’d never be happy tied down to a real wife and children.  He had so little time left on this good green Earth she didn’t want to take his freedom from him. When Katie awoke the next morning she found that her beloved Doc Holliday had passed on during the night with his arm around her and a sad smile on his lips.

David woke up choking, coughing and feeling as though there was a whole gallon of water in his lungs.  It seemed to take a long time for the heaviness there to subside.

“Ares,” he growled, “son of a bitch.”  He was the Sheriff, John Behan, how he managed to get that job David didn’t know and he didn’t give a shit but he was going to find that big blowhard and give him a good piece of his mind.  “I got something for you, you old bastard.”

“Get in line.”

“What?” David looked around in the dark. “Danny? Is that you? Where are ya?”

Across the room Daniel flicked the light switch.  “What’d he do in your dream?”

“You had one too?”  David got out of bed with his head spinning he shoved his feet into his slippers and grabbed his robe.  “Where is he?  I’m gonna knock his head off.”

“Like I said, get in line.” Daniel said through thin lips and he was about to tell David to stay here and watch after Calla but David was already making his way toward the door. “No, you don’t.” Daniel went after him just as the door opened and the two of them tried to squeeze through it at the same time. Shoulder to shoulder jammed against each other the door jamb they squirmed. “Just stop,” Daniel said in frustration, “just let me get through.”

“Nah, I ain’t stayin’ here. Now get off’a me, Danny.” David pushed against his brother and tried to push forward at the same time. He only succeeded in wedging them in further. “I know that’s what you got in mind now get outta my way.”

For half a second they were eight again as they tussled and fought their way through the door only wide enough for one.  “Oh, screw this.” Daniel hissed and David felt it just before Daniel disappeared and he followed his brother on the astral plane to Ares’ door step where they found Nick already pounding on the door.

“I know you’re in there you old bastard! Open this door!” Nick grumbled and pounded on the heavy oak door with both of his balled fists.  He was surprised when his Father and his Uncle suddenly appeared next to him. “What? You too?” The three men looked from one to the other before they all began pounding on the door and demanding admittance.  “Ya know what? Let’s just through it.” Nick suggested.  It was only their good manners which caused them to stop at the door rather than appearing inside the house anyway.

“Yeah, fine.” Daniel agreed.

“Gentlemen,” a voice said from behind them.  They turned to see Morpheus hovering there.

“Should have known it was you.” Daniel said.

“Greetings to you too, my King.” Morpheus mused.  “Didn’t sleep well? I believe the man you’re looking for is currently in the Underworld holding pavlar with Hades.”

Fuckin’ great! Didn’t that just figure?  Daniel gritted his teeth and let out a low growl.  This couldn’t wait.  “I guess we’re taking a trip.” He looked at his company who didn’t hesitate to nod and grunt their agreement.  Daniel hated to do it but, “Would you mind…”

“Staying with the Queen?” Morpheus asked. “I’d be delighted.”

“No funny stuff,” Daniel warned, “no weird dreams or any….or…”

“Too late I’m afraid.” Morpheus agreed with a warm smile. “I will be happy to sit with her until you return.”

The three Jackson men took off for the crag on Ares’ Island and the Underworld leaving Morpheus with the sleeping Queen.

End of Chapter Thirty of
Golden Years
by Moon Mistress
a/k/a Lisa Beth Darling
Go to
Chapter Thirty-One