Haunted Heart
A Gunsmoke Story
By Amanda
(MAHC)
Chapter Sixteen: One Step at a Time
POV:
Matt/Kitty/Newly
Spoilers:
“Seven Hours to Dawn;” “The Jailer;” “The Pillagers;” “The Bullet;” “Morgan;”
“Mannon;” “Hostage!”
Rating:
PG-13+ (Teen+)
Disclaimer:
The original GS characters aren’t mine, of course, but I created Sam. (Well, Matt and Kitty created him in my
story.)
XXXX
Matt
groaned as he moved against Kitty’s welcoming softness, engulfed by her sweet
warmth, embraced by her gentle arms. He
continued to be amazed that this beautiful creature still wanted a tired,
scarred up lawman, but she showed him over and over that she did want him – she
wanted him very, very much. He felt the
build of climax at the pit of his belly, fought to hold off, to wait for her,
his jaw hard with the effort.
He counted
his blessings every day, grateful that God – and Kitty – had given him a second
chance, that they had each other again, and that they had Sam, so much more
than he could have ever imagined for himself. He wouldn’t waste it.
Her
writhing quickened, a tell-tale sign he knew very well, just like the soft
moaning of his name and the tightening of her fingers on his forearms as he
held her above him. She was near her
peak, and he could let go just a little more.
A few more thrusts and she would be there. Then he could –
The ugly
crack of a gunshot startled him, jerking him violently away from ecstasy. To his horror, he felt the hot splatter of
blood, saw grotesque scarlet blossom across Kitty’s lovely breasts. She stared, open-mouthed, at him, her
expression incredulous.
“Matt – “ she whispered, but it was all she could manage before her
body collapsed, her lifeblood – his
lifeblood – draining from her veins.
“No!” He cried out in anguish, in despair,
scrambling to cover the dire wound with his hands, to stop the destruction of
his world. “Oh God! No! Kitty!” But it was
too late. Without a sound, her tender
heart that had held him for 21 years stopped, tearing away his own heart with
it.
He cradled
her in his arms, his face buried in those fiery tresses he had so recently caressed, his stunned brain sluggish and numb.
“Marshal?” A hand fell on his shoulder to pull him from
her, but he shook it off roughly.
“No!” He felt her die in his arms, felt himself die
with her.
“Marshal!” The hand grabbed him, and he swung out
wildly, furious at the intrusion into his grief.
“Get the
hell away from me!” he snarled, his tone like an animal, ferocious and
dangerous.
“Marshal!”
“I said get
away from me!”
“Matt!”
Matt
Dillon’s eyes opened suddenly to stare into the gray-black of pre-dawn. In the faint light he could make out the
shaken features of Newly O’Brien looming before him.
“Matt?” The deputy knelt at his side, eyes wide.
Matt wiped
the sweat from his face with a trembling hand and twisted frantically to search
around him, almost collapsing in relief when he realized where he was and what
had happened. A dream. Only a dream. A terrible, terrible dream – but just a dream. Thank God.
With a
shuddering sigh, he fell back onto his bedroll, chest heaving, heart pumping. Another dream. Oh
God.
“Marshal?”
Newly asked quietly, mumbling a bit.
“You okay?”
Matt
swallowed the nausea back down his throat and nodded curtly, turning his head
to hide the flush of embarrassment that raced up his face.
“Must have
been a nightmare,” the deputy observed, his voice a little muffled. “Sounded pretty intense.”
Intense? Hell, yes.
He gritted his teeth to force some control through his shaking body, a struggle
that was, unfortunately, not at all foreign to him. Last night it had been gnarled-teeth
fugitives snatching Sam right from Kitty’s arms while he watched impotently,
locked in his own jail cell. The night
before that, both Kitty and Sam had gotten in the way of a gunfight on a hazy
Of course,
he was no stranger to nightmares. He had
been haunted by them periodically for most of his professional life, had
re-fought battles, chased after outlaws, and re-lived shoot-outs on and off
since the first time he’d had to take a man’s life in the line of duty. Through the years, he had learned to deal
with the paradox of a job that demanded he protect lives by sometimes taking
them.
But he had
never learned to deal with those times when his dreams shifted from his own
danger to threats on Kitty. What tore
him up most were the visions that had come not from his imagination but from
real life itself: Mace Gore, and Etta Stone, and Manez,
and Morgan, and Mannon.
And Bonner. Bonner.
And more – all because of him. All
because of him.
Those
torturous memories had acquired new strength recently, had hit him full force
since he and Kitty had returned from
That had
been nine months ago, and the nightmares had only gotten worse. He wasn’t sure why exactly, had never put
much faith in omens or soothsayers, but the persistence of those dreams stirred
an uneasiness deep in his bones, an uneasiness that something was about to
happen. As much as he berated himself
for the foolish notion, he couldn’t quite shake the disturbing thought.
After a
minute, he became aware that his deputy watched him closely, waiting for a response,
and he found that he couldn’t meet those dark eyes for fear that he might
glimpse pity in them.
What was
the question? Intense?
“Yeah,” he
muttered, hoping that was sufficient.
“Sure.” Newly took a breath, wincing. “Be dawn soon. Maybe we should just get on up, head for
home.”
Home. Kitty. That’s exactly where Matt wanted – needed – to head.
“Yeah,” he
agreed. “Yeah.”
“I’d say
it’s another twenty miles to Kinsley, then thirty-five or so on to Dodge. We won’t make it back tonight. Tomorrow for sure, though.”
Working to
slow his heart, Matt pulled himself up to sit cross-legged on the blankets,
resting his head in his hands, still fighting the sick feeling that boiled in
his belly. Newly – bless him – slipped
away to give the marshal a moment to regain his composure.
When he
felt like he had avoided a complete collapse in front of the other man, Matt
raised his head and saw that the deputy busied himself with dragging his saddle
over to the sturdy bay, pausing once or twice to work his chin gingerly. Matt frowned and flexed his hand, guilty
suspicion nudging him with the slight protest of pain across his knuckles.
“Newly?”
The younger
man turned quickly, eager to please his mentor.
Matt knew the sometime-gunsmith and deputy idolized him, and he was more
than a little uncomfortable with the hero worship he saw in those dark eyes way
too often. Still, he was a good deputy,
and a man of strong principles. Matt was
lucky to have him.
In the
light of the coming dawn, Matt saw the swollen jaw and bloodied lip. “What happened to you?” he asked
automatically, even though he was afraid he already knew.
Newly
grinned ruefully and rubbed at the injury.
“Well, Marshal, I’ll have to say I hadn’t ever intended to be on the
receiving end of one of your backhands.
I figure I’m right lucky not to be spittin’
teeth.”
Damn. “Newly, I’m – I’m sorry,” Matt said, pushing
up from the bedroll to check on his deputy.
He forgot about the stiff knee until he planted it, and the pain that
shot through his leg almost drove him back to the ground. Waiting out the wave of dizziness, he braced
himself and limped toward the other man.
“Marshal – “ Newly began, concern tightening his features.
But Matt
waved off any questions. “I’m fine,” he
declared, his tone clearly accepting no argument. “Let me take a look at it.”
Taking his
cue, Newly nodded, even though his eyes couldn’t hide
the doubt. “It’s not too bad,
Marshal. Besides, you didn’t mean
to. You were having a nightmare.”
“I can
still be sorry,” Matt insisted, taking the deputy’s chin in his hand and
studying the red, swollen flesh.
“Beefsteak would be helpful,” he noted.
“You got
one handy?” Newly asked, laughing, then wincing.
“Sorry.
Don’t figure jerky would do the same thing.”
“Probably not.”
Satisfied
that the injury was not dangerous – although it certainly looked painful enough
– he relaxed a bit. “We’ll have Doc take
a look when we get back to Dodge.”
“Marshal?”
He knew it
was coming. “Yeah?”
“Are you
sure you’re okay?”
“Sure.”
“You seemed
a little – distressed.” That was an understatement.
“I’m okay, Newly.”
“I just – “
“I’m okay.”
The last assurance came out sharper than he had intended, but, even as
much as he trusted his deputy, he was not about to discuss his dreams – his nightmares – with him.
Newly
cleared his throat and nodded.
“Okay. Sure. I’ll just – I’ll just get Buck saddled for ya.”
Suddenly
irritated at himself, Matt caught the younger man’s arm. “Newly, I, uh, I appreciate it, but – “
A
compassionate smile was his answer. “I
understand, Marshal. It’s okay.”
Again, Matt
thought about the young man. Who would
have thought the green easterner who carried his gunsmith tools in a medical
bag would have turned into a right decent deputy? No, Matt amended, much more than just
decent. As he watched Newly
go about the task of saddling his horse, the marshal took more care, more
depth, in contemplating exactly how good a man he was, and a thought began to
form, a thought that grew and sank its roots into a plan he had already taken
steps toward completing.
Slipping
his hand into his vest pocket, he pulled out the reply he had received from his
earlier telegram to the Attorney General.
Kitty would probably be mad at him, but she would get over it – he was pretty
sure about that. And even though the
decision wouldn’t do anything about ridding him of old enemies, he figured at
least it might keep him from acquiring new ones.
Dragging a
deep breath into his lungs, he held it a few contemplative seconds before
taking the final step. “Newly?”
The deputy
turned immediately. “Sir?”
“Don’t
saddle Buck, yet.”
“Sir?”
If Matt
Dillon could believe in one thing, it was his instincts. They had served him well for 48 years, and he
figured there was no reason to stop now.
Smiling, and as sure about anything as he’d ever been – he motioned for
the younger man to sit.
“I have a
proposition for you – ”
XXXX
Kitty
Dillon smiled in delight as she watched her eleven-month-old son take a wobbly
step in Hannah’s firm grasp toward his mother’s outstretched arms. Overwhelmed with the power of her love for
the child, she wondered how on earth her heart didn’t just explode with it,
wondered how people possessed the capacity to deal with more than one child.
“He’s gonna git it soon,” Hannah
noted confidently.
“He has his
father’s determination,” Kitty said.
“And his
mama’s impatience,” the older woman added, laughing as Sam abruptly plopped
down on his rear, his familiar blue eyes widening in surprise only momentarily
before he wrapped familiar long fingers around her thumb and climbed back to
his feet. “He’s tryin’
ta’ take too many steps at a time. Wants ta’ do it all
at once.”
He might
have some of her disposition, but Matthew Samuel Dillon looked more and more
like his father every day, Kitty decided, enjoying the handsome sight of the
boy’s long, chestnut curls and toothy grin.
He already had a mouthful of teeth, which had turned out to be more
liability than asset. Kitty had been
forced, reluctantly, to wean him two months earlier when nursing became too
much a game of chance.
The hair,
which she adored, was a point of small contention between Matt and her. He had voiced his opinion that the generous
mane made his son look like a girl.
Kitty resisted the idea that the child have his
first hair cut before he was a year old, but after a well-meaning old woman had
commented on how pretty Sam was, she decided perhaps she would concede the
point.
“”Wael, thar he is. I declare, Miz
Kitty, thet boy’s done grow’d
annuther two inches since yesstidy.”
She let her
eyes shift from her child to watch Festus clink through the saloon doors, his
teeth showing through the scruff of beard as he looked down toward his best
friend’s son. Sam ignored him,
concentrating instead on his tenacious attempts to take his first steps under
his own power.
“He’s gonna
be big as his daddy,” the deputy told them – about the fiftieth time he’d
prophesied that since he first glimpsed the child at the railway station those
many months ago.
“He could
be,” Kitty allowed, having a hard time imagining anyone being as big as Matt –
even his own son.
“My Aint Clarence sed ya’ kin tell how big a feller’s gonna git
by his hands.” He thrust his own index
finger into the child’s free hand, the one that wasn’t hanging on to Hannah’s
supporting finger. “Looky
thar at them hands.
Yep. Big as his
daddy.”
This time,
Sam rewarded the compliment with another grin – so much like his father’s that
Kitty felt her heart pound with the anticipation of Matt’s return. He was overdue – again – but at least he had
wired her from
Before she could tell him.
Twenty
years of waiting had not necessarily given her patience, but it had at least
provided her the practice of masking her impatience. Smiling fondly at Festus, she rose and patted
him on the arm. “How
‘bout a beer?”
As
expected, the deputy’s eyes lit. “Wael, I reckon a beer’d be rite
welcome.”
“I figured
it would,” she said, sliding behind the bar.
“Come on over.”
He followed
eagerly, smacking his lips in anticipation.
“Did I tell ya yer pertikularly looksome this mornin’, Miz Kitty?”
“I already
offered you the beer, Festus,” she laughed.
“No need to butter me up.”
He managed
to look affronted. “If I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’. Ya do look mighty
handsome today.”
Twisting
her lips in amusement, she avoided Hannah’s suddenly curious gaze and said,
“Why thank you, Festus.” Then she let
her brow furrow slightly. “But does that
mean I’m not looksome every day?”
The poor
man sputtered over his first sip of beer.
“Wael, no – “
“No?”
“I mean –
yes – “
“Yes? You
mean I’m not looksome every – “
“Aw,
fiddle, Miz Kitty.
Don’t you go a mixin’ my words up. You know’d very
well whut I meant.”
Smiling to
let him off the hook, she agreed. “All right. I’ll just
say, ‘thank you,’ and leave it at that.
At my age, I shouldn’t question any compliment.”
“Yer age?” Festus declared. “Shorely Miz Kitty you kaint be more’n – “ He faltered, at a loss.
“More
than?” she prompted, curious and wary all at once. What if he overguessed?
“Twenty-five?” Festus squeaked out wisely.
Kitty
couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe the
deputy had finally learned the nuances about women’s ages. “Close enough,” she figured. Truth was, he was seventeen years off, and
they both knew it – but who was she to correct him?
“You heerd from Matthew lately?” he asked, the relief on his
face a clear indication that he was glad to escape from the trap she had set
for him.
Allowing
him the diversion, she nodded. “He wired
me yesterday. The trial was
delayed. He and Newly
ought to be back in a couple of days.”
She hoped.
Her
disappointment must have shown because he pushed a smile to his lips and
offered cheerfully, “Two days ain’t bad. I’ll be glad ta’
see him, though.” The smile faded a bit
as he grew serious. “Not thet I kaint handle these yea-hoos round ‘bouts, of course, but it ain’t
easy bein’ on the job all day an’ all night, too, dontcha know.”
Kitty
refrained from mentioning that those were the very hours Matt had kept for over
20 years as a marshal. As much as he had
the reputation for malingering, Festus really was a good man, and both she and
Matt owed him their lives three times over.
The beer
foamed nicely on the refill. The deputy
nodded his thanks to her and lifted the glass for a second helping.
“Excuse
me.”
Kitty
glanced past him to see a rough-looking man peering over the tops of the
swinging doors, a tattered hat perched a little
sideways on his head. “Yes?” she acknowledged.
Taking that
as invitation, he stepped into the room, and she saw that the rest of his
clothing was only minutely less worn than the hat. “Mornin’,
ma’am,” the man greeted, touching his hand to the brim.
“Morning.”
“Mornin’,” Festus acknowledged briefly before taking a
generous swig of ale.
“Uh, could
any of you tell me if the marshal’s around?”
As much as
she tried to quell it, Kitty felt the surge of fear in her veins with those
words. Most of the time when someone
came looking for Matt it didn’t end up pleasantly.
“He ain’t in town rite now.
Done gone up ta’
The man
seemed disappointed. “Oh.”
Eyes
narrowing, Festus asked, “How come ya’ need ta’ know?”
“Oh, I
don’t need ta’ know.
Don’t matter none ta’ me if the marshal’s here
or not.”
Festus’
frown deepened. “What’s yer name, mister?”
“Link Jenson.”
“I don’t
remember seein’ ya in Dodge
before.”
“Ain’t been here for long.
Just passin’ through ta’
“Why do ya’ need the marshal?”
“Like I
said, I don’t. But there’s some feller
around lookin’ fer him, and
I told him I’d ask.”
Kitty’s
heart clenched suddenly, and she caught Hannah’s wide-eyed
glance. Even Festus stiffened.
“A feller, ya’ say?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“Who is
he?”
“Ain’t never
seen him before.”
“Whut does he want with the marshal?”
Jenson
shrugged. “Don’t know. Business, he said.”
Kitty’s
fingers dug into the edge of the bar. Business? Too many
men had come into town with “business” for Matt Dillon. She didn’t like the sound of it – never had.
Festus
apparently didn’t, either. “Whar is this feller?” he asked, plunking his glass down and
frowning.
“Over at
the Dodge House. Said he’d get settled,
then come lookin’ for the marshal.”
Come
looking?
“Did he say
whut kinda bidness he had?”
“Nope.”
“Whut’d he look like?”
“Sorta young, in his late 30s, I figure, maybe early
40s. Right smart dresser, not fancy mind
you, but neat and fairly clean, considerin’ he’d been
on the trail. Oh, and he wore his gun
like he was used to it, you know? Like
he weren’t no stranger to usin’
it.”
“Show me,”
Festus ordered, abandoning his beer, and the two left the saloon abruptly.
An icy
tingle ran up Kitty’s spine and plunged into her chest from behind. She let her hand drop to her abdomen in a
vain attempt to squelch the sudden nausea that roiled there. “Please God,” she prayed. “Please don’t let it happen now. Not now.”
Ever since
Coy Brennan had breathed his last in the dust of Front Street, Dodge had
remained mercifully quiet, and Kitty allowed herself a glimmer of hope that
Matt’s reputation – and maybe the encroachment of civilization into the West –
had finally proven convincing enough to persuade the remaining gunslingers to
give the town – and its marshal – a wide berth.
She should have known it was too much to expect.
For once,
she found herself wishing that Matt wouldn’t come back soon – that he’d stay
away until this latest challenger got tired of waiting and moved on. But the very fact that the man was there
practically guaranteed Matt’s expedient return.
It was her lot in life to be forever at the mercy of irony.
“Papa –
Papa – Papa – “
Her son’s
innocent chanting drew Kitty back from a brief wallow in self-pity with a
silent scold at herself for allowing the dip.
Forcing cheer into her voice, she swung around the bar and over to
Hannah, sweeping the child into her arms and kissing him soundly.
“Yes, Sam,”
she told him, “Papa is coming back soon.
He’ll be so proud of you. Maybe
you’ll walk all by yourself for him, hmm?”
The boy
smiled at her. “Papa come
home?” he asked, patting his mother’s cheek.
He had recently taken to putting together simple sentences, and Kitty
marveled at the capacity of children to absorb knowledge.
“Yes,
sweetheart,” Kitty assured him, exchanging a worried glance with Hannah. “Papa’s coming home real soon.”
Just not
too soon, please, Matt, she pleaded silently.
Just not too soon.
XXXX
Newly
O’Brien winced when he accidentally cocked his jaw the wrong way. He had told the marshal he was lucky not to
be spitting teeth – and that was the absolute truth. Dillon’s blow had been softened by the haze
of sleep or else he figured his head would still be reeling.
He didn’t
have to imagine too hard what kind of dream had held the marshal in its
clutches. He had heard the anguished cry
of her name, had seen the perspiration bead on the grimacing face, had definitely felt the power of the thrashing arms.
Even though
he would never let the marshal know it, this wasn’t the only time he’d seen
Dillon struggle with nightmares. Over
the years, Newly had awakened more than once on the
trail to the big man’s mutterings and groans, his subconscious re-living some
of the horrors he had experienced – or creating new horrors. It came with the territory, the deputy
figured, at least for a man whose basic nature was to value life but whose job
it sometimes was to take life.
More
recently, he had heard Dillon shout out two nights before in Hays City, had
almost burst into the marshal’s room, fearing that his mentor was in physical
danger and needed assistance. But just
as he reared back to kick in the door, he heard the deep voice choke out her name, and realized what was
happening. He hadn’t mentioned anything
about it, knew that the very private man would have been embarrassed if he
thought anyone had been witness to his vulnerability.
There was
no secret anymore, of course, about Matt Dillon and Kitty Russell, not since
they had returned from
He had to
laugh at himself when he though about just how naïve he had been on that first
trip to Dodge. His first glimpse of
Kitty Russell would be emblazoned forever in his memory – an enchantingly regal
creature amid a bevy of common hoodlums and cowboys. Her beauty was ageless, and he couldn’t help
but take interest in her – at least until he realized that his competition
would be a six foot, seven inch, 240-pound
That trip
had been detoured to the lair of the border cut-throat Manez. At the time, he had mentioned to Kitty that
if they got word to “that marshal in Dodge,” it “might could be” that he’d
help. She had smirked a little and
agreed that it “might could be.” Newly later realized that there had been no
“might could” to it at all – it was a sure thing all along that Matt Dillon
would come after them – after her.
From then
on, it was easy to catch glimpses of them sitting close, talking low. Even when they were the most discreet, the
sparks that snapped between them could not be disguised. He counted it as privilege that for the next
few years he was privy to a few rare moments.
Glancing
with subtle interest at the marshal, noting how he rode Buck with the surety of
years of practice, he thought about that dreadful trip to
As bad as
that had been, though, worst of all was Jude Bonner. Newly still shuddered when he thought about
that time, still felt the blows the dog soldier and his men had inflicted,
still saw the fear on Matt Dillon’s face when he had to tell him that Bonner
had taken Kitty, still heard the rage in Dillon’s voice when he slammed an
unrepentant Virgil Bonner against the cell bars. He had thought the marshal was going to kill
the outlaw right there – figured he would have if the sheriff hadn’t apologetically
interrupted so that the law could take care of the scum for them.
And then,
when he stepped out onto Doc’s landing, after spending the night in vigil by
her bedside –
Newly’s
eyes had lit on the bare shirt first, only two tell-tale holes left where a
badge had hung for so many faithful years.
Alarmed, he searched Dillon’s face, stunned at the silent but determined
fury that seethed on those strong features.
In that moment, Newly knew the depth of Matt
Dillon’s feelings toward Kitty Russell.
He had no doubt, later, that the marshal would have killed Jude Bonner –
and then been killed himself by Bonner’s men – if Festus and the posse hadn’t
ignored Dillon’s instructions and rode on after him.
Somehow,
throughout it all, they had survived – even past the last crisis when Kitty had
left. But fate – or the good Lord – had
intervened and brought her back – with interest. And now Matt Dillon had another chance. A chance to untangle
himself from the tight bonds of duty to the law. A chance to live his life
on his own. A
chance to be happy.
Newly
considered what Dillon had talked with him about that morning. Stunned, the deputy had asked for a little
time to think things over, to ponder his choices. Now, though, as he looked over at the lawman,
he realized there was no choice at all.
Not for Matt Dillon and not for Newly O’Brien.
He watched
the big buckskin canter along for a moment, the front legs kicking high and
sure, as they always did with Matt astride him, as if the confidence of the horse
matched that of the rider. “Marshal?”
Dillon
turned, face expectant.
“Marshal,”
Newly asked tentatively, “are you sure?”
The older
man nodded, immediately understanding what Newly was
talking about. “I’m sure.”
“I just
don’t want you to regret it.”
“If a man
lives by regrets, he won’t ever risk anything.
What kind of life is that?”
He looked
up into those vivid blue eyes, only imagining the untold things they had
witnessed through the years. “It’s just
that, well, I know you don’t like to hear stuff like this – but you really are
a legend.”
Dillon
breathed out a small, humorless laugh. “Legends aren’t real people, Newly. As soon as soon a gun takes them down – or the years
do it for the gun – another legend will take their place.”
Newly shook
his head, unconvinced. “I don’t think
anyone will ever take Matt Dillon’s place.”
“Matt
Dillon doesn’t really exist,” the big lawman muttered, looking out over the
prairie, momentarily lost in some distant thought. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat
and turned back to the deputy. “Not the
legend, anyway,” he added with a rueful smile.
“You just be the best Newly O’Brien you can be. You’re a good man. Be a careful man, too. One step at a time.”
One giant step, Newly
observed. Overwhelmed by the confidence
this man – this legend, he insisted
in his mind – had shown in him, Newly sucked in a breath, nodded, and said,
“All right, then.”
The legend
rewarded him with a rare, genuine grin. “All right.”
As they
continued riding, Newly’s veins surged with
alternating excitement and terror. He
had always set quite a store by Matt Dillon’s decisions. He sure hoped the marshal was making the
right one now.
With Dodge
only a day’s ride away, it wouldn’t be long before they’d find out.
Chapter Seventeen: He Watched
POV: Doc
Spoilers:
“Ten Little Indians;” “Disciple”
Rating:
PG-13 (Teen)
Disclaimer:
The original GS characters aren’t mine, of course, but I created Sam. (Well, Matt and Kitty created him in my
story.)
At night,
the
This
particular morning, as he had done many mornings before, he hovered over his
coffee, pretending to sip at it while actually watching Kitty Dillon. There were many reasons to watch her – not
the least of which being that she was a beautiful woman.
Sure, she
wasn’t quite the slip of a girl who had trudged through the mud and into their
lives that rainy day so many years ago, but she was even better now: a real
woman whose compassion and strength and goodness had impacted the lives of more
than one person in
But he did
figure it out, and now, as Doc watched her play with the child that
long-awaited union had produced, he offered up a silent prayer of thanks that
they had come through crisis after crisis finally to reach this point.
He had made
it his practice to watch Kitty ever since that first day, when his eyes
couldn’t help but be drawn to the exquisite creature in the café. Through the years, though, he had watched her
for other reasons, sometimes out of sheer admiration for her skills with a deck
of cards, sometimes out of amusement at her witty banter with Chester and later
Festus, sometimes out of deep interest in her subtle eye contact with a
recalcitrant marshal, sometimes out of fear for her life and concern for her
health. And sometimes out of a mutual
angst created by their shared love of a man who stubbornly placed himself in
danger for them, for Dodge, for anyone he thought he could and should protect.
He had
watched her fret, despite her valiant efforts to mask it, while they waited for
an overdue Matt to return. He had
watched her barely hold it together, hovering behind him, while he dug yet
another bullet out of the marshal’s body.
He had watched her grieve over the excruciating decision to leave
everything behind and do what she thought was best for all of them.
And after
she had left, and he couldn’t watch her anymore,
he had watched the man torn apart by that decision. He had watched the strong, stoic lawman –
survivor of uncounted battles – slowly disintegrate in the absence of the other
half of his soul. He had watched the
town that had counted on their formidable protector’s steadfastness and
reliability for twenty years suddenly find a common bond by making sure they
had Dillon’s back – emotionally and physically.
And – thank God – he had watched that man set his jaw, gather the steel
that ran deep in him, and finally go after what he wanted – what he needed.
When they
had stepped off that train – Matt and Kitty, with the incredible addition of
their child – Doc knew he wasn’t the only one watching over them. A power much higher than he was had
intervened.
And he
thanked God – literally – that he could watch her once more. So he had for the past several months – and
he did now in the
“How ‘bout a beer this time?”
His
thoughts dissolved at Hannah’s question.
Pulling out his watch to see if he was close enough to noon for
propriety, he nodded. “Well, sure. Okay.”
“If ya’ don’t mind me sayin’ so, Doc,
ya’ look a mite tuckered.”
“I was up
with Maybell Printley all
last night. She had a hard time with the
baby. Didn’t want to
leave her until I was sure things were stable.”
“Is she all
right?” Kitty asked with a touch more concern than usual.
“She’s
fine. Has a beautiful little girl.”
A chuckle
came from the bar. “Girl? Makes five of ‘em now for Hank, don’t it?” noted Hannah.
Doc shook
his head. “Yep. He said he was going to call her ‘Henry’
whether she was a boy or girl.”
Kitty’s
eyes widened. “Did he?”
“Well, I
guess ‘Henrietta’ is close enough,” Doc figured.
“Better than ‘Henry’ anyway,” Kitty observed.
He looked
at her closely and frowned at the tight strain around her eyes. “You must have come into town mighty early
this morning.”
She cocked
an eyebrow, and he saw that his subtle probing hadn’t fooled her. “Hannah was gracious enough to let Sam and me stay with her the last couple of days. We thought Matt was coming back earlier, but
– “ Her voice fell off in disappointment.
“What are
partners for?” Hannah interjected. “Besides, we hadn’t had a chance ta’ spoil that boy recently with ya’
livin’ outta town.”
“I’m afraid
he’s already too spoiled as it is,” Kitty said, but her smile softened the mild
accusation. “And we’re not very far out
of town. I just thought maybe we could
be here when – “ She faltered, but Doc knew what she
wanted to say.
Patting her
hand lightly, he nodded. “Matt’ll be along soon.”
But a
disturbingly dark shadow crossed those fine features. “I hope not, Doc.”
“What?”
Her voice
little more than a whisper, she repeated, “I hope not.”
“Well,
whatever for?” he blustered before he saw the true fear on her face.
The
familiar jingle of spurs interrupted her answer as Festus clanged down the
steps and up to their table. “Mornin’ Miz Kitty,” he greeted, then bent
over to let his hand scatter through Sam’s curls. “Hey thar, Mister
Dillon,” he added. “Ya’
cotched enny outlaws t’day?”
“Festus!”
Kitty scolded, her tone uncharacteristically harsh
toward the deputy. They all jumped a
little in surprise.
Silent for
a moment, Festus managed to gather himself.
“Shucks Miz Kitty, I didn’t mean – “
Visibly
softening, she sighed. “I know you
didn’t. I’m sorry.” She was instantly forgiven.
Doc
continued watching her, his concern for both her physical and emotional
well-being. As much as she agonized over
Matt’s being in constant danger, he figured it would be ten times as hard on
Kitty for her son to grow up to be a lawman.
Her hand
dropped to her waist, a move he wasn’t sure she even realized she had
made. “I guess I’m just worried about –
“
“I bin a’ keepin’ my eyeballs on thet
feller whut’s waitin’ fer Matthew, now, Miz Kitty,”
Festus assured her. “Don’t you go ‘bout frettin’ over that.”
Alarmed,
Doc pushed his beer away and turned to face Festus. “What fellow?
There’s someone waiting for Matt?”
Festus
threw a worried glance toward Kitty before he lowered his voice and
explained. “Wael,
yestiddy this drifter come in here a lookin’ fer Matthew. Only he wusn’t
actual lookin’ fer Matthew,
he wuz lookin’ fer him fer some other
feller. Leastways he sed
he wuz lookin’, only I ain’t shore th’
feller actual sent him. More like he wuz jest curious – “
“Festus,
what in tarnation are you talking about?”
“Stranger’s
in town looking for the marshal,” Hannah clarified. “Says he has business with
him. Nobody seems ta’ know who he is, but he sure looks like he can handle a
gun.”
Kitty
flinched, and Doc saw Hannah grimace at her own words.
“Well,
what’s his name?”
“Don’t nobody know, Doc,” Festus said. “He ain’t sed.”
“Where’s he
staying?”
“Dodge
House,” Hannah supplied.
“Why don’t
you just go over there and look at the register?”
Festus
scowled. “Wael,
ya’ kaint jest walk in an’
– “ He stopped, eyes wide, then turned on his boot
heel. “I’ll be back terrickly,”
he announced before stomping out of the saloon.
Shaking his
head, Doc turned back to Kitty. “I can
see why you’re worried.”
She didn’t
bother to deny it, simply nodded.
Touching
her wrist as casually as possible, he let his fingers find her pulse. “You feeling okay? You
look a little pale.”
“She was
sick this mornin’,” Hannah volunteered, ignoring
Kitty’s sudden glare. “Got a bit of
coffee and toast down her, but that was all.”
“You don’t
have to tell everything you know,” Kitty scolded half-heartedly, slipping her
hand from his grasp.
“Yes, she
does,”
“No. It’s just normal, like you said the other
day.”
“Does Matt
– “
She shook
her head. “You just confirmed it the
morning he and Newly left. There wasn’t much chance at privacy out there
in front of the jail. I wish – I was hoping
he’d be back by now.”
He smiled
reassuringly and patted her hand again.
“He’ll be back soon.”
“Just in
time for that gunslinger to – “
His hand
closed on hers, holding it tightly.
“Now, you don’t go worrying about that.
It’s not good for you. Festus
already told you he’s keeping an eye out.
You saw what happened with Coy Brennan.
Nobody in this town is going to let somebody get to Matt. You just count on that.”
She allowed
a grateful smile, even though he saw that she didn’t really believe what he
said. Of course, he didn’t believe it,
either.
“Miss
Kitty! Miss Kitty!”
Nathan
Burke’s yells burst into the
Before they
could stand all the way, Burke followed his voice, out of breath and
pointing. “They’re back, Miss
Kitty. The marshal and Newly. They’re back!”
“Well for
Pete’s sake, Burke, do ya’ have to come in here like
a wild man just to tell us that?”
“But Doc,
you don’t understand. That fella’s still waiting.
He’s leaning against the rail over at the Dodge House, just
looking. You think he’s going after the
marshal?”
Doc wanted
to tell him he was crazy, but he couldn’t.
As much as he hated it for Kitty – for all of them – it appeared that
there was a real possibility they were in for yet another showdown on
As soon as
the two men came into view, Doc quickly assessed their conditions, just as he
had done for Matt since that first time the new Dodge marshal had returned from
the trail so many years ago, bloodied and barely hanging in the saddle. Little had he known it was a harbinger of 20
years of such returns. This time, he noted with a sigh
of relief, neither one looked injured.
In fact, both horses and riders cantered in at an easy pace. As they neared the saloon, the marshal looked
up expectantly, a smile spreading his lips when he saw Kitty waiting on the
boardwalk. Doc couldn’t help but grin at
the big man’s involuntary reaction. They
pulled up, both tipping their hats to the ladies.
“Matt,” Doc
greeted. “Glad to have ya’ back.”
“Glad to be
back,” Matt returned, throwing a leg over Buck and stepping to the ground. Doc watched carefully for a grimace, but
either the marshal wasn’t hurting today or he was masking it well.
Newly
didn’t dismount. Instead, he took the
big buckskin’s reins from Matt. “I’ll
get the horses stabled,” he said, swinging around. But he wasn’t quite fast enough.
“Hold on
there, Newly,” Doc ordered, frowning and scooting
around to the other side of the deputy’s bay.
The younger
man tried to turn his head away, but it wasn’t any use. It didn’t take the practiced eye of a
physician to see the ugly, swollen bruise that discolored most of his jaw on
the left side. The lip was bloody and
busted, too. Someone had slugged the
young man, but good.
“Well, my
goodness son, what happened to you?” he exclaimed, as those watching craned
around to get a look.
“Uh, Doc – “ Matt began, and
But before
Dillon could finish, Newly said quickly, “It’s nothin’ big, Doc. Comes with the territory.”
He caught Dillon’s eye and both men exchanged some sort of message,
intriguing Doc even more. “Right,
Marshal?”
After a
long beat, Matt pressed his lips together and nodded. “Right.”
With a
click of his teeth Newly tugged on the horse. “Come on, Buck.”
“Matt, what
on earth happened to New – “ He started to ask, then stopped at the rare, but
delightful, sight of the reserved and very private man greeting his wife with a
tender kiss, right there on the boardwalk in front of everybody.
When Kitty
pulled away, slightly breathless, Doc heard Matt whisper, voice urgent, “I
missed you, Red. I missed you a lot.”
“I missed
you, too, Cowboy,” she returned, her smile rather bemused. “You must be tired. I’ll have Floyd bring
some hot water up to the room.”
“Room?”
“Sam and I
have stayed with Hannah for a couple of nights.”
Regret crept
across the marshal’s face. “I’m sorry we
were late, Kitty.”
But she
brushed at the dust across his shoulders and smiled. “Nothing you could help. How about that bath?”
Her ploy
worked, erasing the regret and drawing a flush of color to his cheeks. He lowered his voice even further, and Doc
had to strain to hear him ask, “Join me?”
Now it was
Kitty’s turn to blush. Her only answer
was a sultry look from under hooded eyes.
Doc thought – certainly not for the first time – that Matt Dillon was
one lucky man.
“Papa! Papa!” The delighted cry delayed any reunion, as
Hannah emerged from the saloon, Samuel Dillon wiggling furiously in her arms,
reaching out toward his tall father.
Grinning,
Matt took a step toward them, his own long arms held out to take his son. “Sam! Boy, you’ve grown half a foot since I
left.”
The child
lunged for him, unconcerned about being practically air-born. The marshal caught him with both hands and
lifted him high into the air, a spectacle that drew the attention of several
Dodge citizens as they passed, fond smiles gracing their faces. Doc reminded himself that this town had
suffered right along with their marshal those dreadful months after Kitty left. It was only fair they should be able to
rejoice with him, too.
“Papa come home!” the child announced, patting his father’s chest
happily as Matt pulled him close.
It seemed
to Doc that a bit of regret crept into Matt’s eyes, but he smiled anyway and
assured his son, “Papa’s come home.”
Twisting to look down at Kitty, he suggested, “Why don’t we go inside
and – “
“Matthew!” Festus called from across the street. “Ain’t you a site fer sore eyeballs!”
“Festus,”
Matt greeted, grunting slightly as Sam squirmed in his firm grasp.
“It is shorely good ta’ hev’ ya’ back. ‘Course it’s been quiet. These rascals ‘round chere
knowd not ta’ mess wi’ Festus Haggen.”
“I have no
doubt,” Matt assured him.
“Thang is, though, thar is somethin’ mebbee ya’ need ta’ know about.”
Instantly,
Matt’s manner grew more serious, and he shifted Sam in his arms, leaning closer
to Festus. “What’s that?”
Taking a
breath and shooting a quick, apologetic look toward Kitty, the deputy said,
“Stranger’s in town, lookin’ fer
ya’. Sez he has bidness with ya’.”
“You know
his name?”
“
The
marshal’s eyes narrowed. “
“I bin keepin’ a eye on him, and I hev ta’ say, he looks like a
feller pretty handy with a gun.”
“You say
he’s been looking for me? Did you talk
with him?”
“Wael, no.
Some drifter come in yesstidy a’talkin’ ‘bout him.”
“Drifter?”
“Scrungy feller name of Link – “
“Marshal!”
Conversation
halted instantly at the call from across
“Get back
inside the
“Matt – “
He repeated
his order, voice still level, but clearly accepting no
argument. “Get back inside.”
Doc watched
the dread cross her face, knew the same feeling himself. Lane continued to advance, arms to his side,
stride cautious.
It never
got any easier, watching the showdowns, waiting to see if he would be digging
another bullet out of Matt, praying that if he did, the marshal would still be
alive to make it necessary.
The marshal
shifted carefully to look back, his hand close enough to his holster to draw,
but falling short of the motion. Once
again, the eyes of Dodge rested on him.
Along the
boardwalk, the men of Dodge gathered, their eyes glancing around, sending
messages silently among them. Doc felt a
thrill of both excitement and fear to realize that those with guns had now
brushed their hands over the handles and were ready to draw. They had Matt’s back – in spades.
But Doc
wasn’t the only one who saw. The marshal
stepped down from the boardwalk so that he was away from any spectators. With only a quick glance at the men, he shook
his head, a curt move that sent his orders: no interference. Doc knew he would never put anyone in danger
if he didn’t have to – except himself.
The
physician ached to run out and stop the tragedy – because it would be one for
sure. Someone was about to die. He prayed as hard as he ever had that it
wouldn’t be Matt Dillon. Lane continued
to walk steadily toward the marshal, his eyes never leaving the big lawman. Matt squared, a move they had all seen many,
many times.
“You looking for me?” Dillon called out.
Suddenly,
Lane stopped, his step unsure. Time slowed.
Doc imagined he could hear the seconds tick past, matching the beat of
his heart. No one moved. No one breathed.
Then, Lane
yelled, “Marshal!” as his hand flew to his gun.
A shot split
the air before Doc’s eyes stopped blurring from the action, its dreadful echo
reverberating off the store fronts for another couple of seconds. Another blast followed,
this one louder and heavier. Ignoring
her husband’s earlier instructions, Kitty burst through the saloon doors,
empty-armed, hand at her throat.
“Matt!” she
groaned, rushing toward the street. Doc
threw his arms out to stop her and hung onto her ask they both looked, hoping –
praying – that they would see the tall form still standing.
Eyes
burning, he squinted, first scanning the ground where Matt had been, then swallowing in relief as his gaze had to move
upward. The marshal was still standing,
tall and steady, but strangely enough he wasn’t shooting. Instead, he held his gun up, almost over his
head, the iron spinning fast around his finger for a few seconds before the
pistol butt slapped back firmly against his palm. It was an impressive display that Doc had
seen him do only once before, but the physician knew it wasn’t to show off any
firearm prowess. The marshal had done it
to keep himself from firing.
Frowning in
confusion, Doc looked over to where Lane had been, expecting to see the outlaw
sprawled out dead in the dust. But the
man still stood, as well, his own gun drawn in readiness. No puff of smoke drifted from it, though, and
Doc found himself even more perplexed.
“Doc,
look!” Kitty pointed to their right toward Moss Grimmick’s
stables.
He blinked
at the sight of Newly O’Brien gazing casually back at them, the Greener in his
hands still smoking slightly. Across the
street, a crumpled figure lay half-on/half-off the
boardwalk. Drawing enough calm into his
bones to move, Doc exchanged glances with a frowning marshal, then brushed past
Kitty and shuffled toward the younger deputy.
Blood had
pooled beneath the dead man, the hole that killed him blown dead center in his
chest, his eyes staring vacantly into the sky.
Doc realized the only man who could help him now was Percy Crump. Looking up, he caught Newly’s
eyes, pained, but steady.
“You okay?”
Doc asked.
Newly nodded, an unexpected air of confidence gracing the motion.
It didn’t
take long for the crowd to gather. Matt
pushed through the throng to stand over the body, his own gaze locking with his
deputy’s, a look of gratitude and approval passing from blue eyes to brown.
Newly drew
a breath and explained. “This fellow
tried to shoot you, Marshal. He was
hiding at the corner of the stables over here, waiting until you stepped out
into the street.”
Gazing
again on the sprawled body, Doc sniffed.
That scruffy looking fellow had tried to kill Matt? He didn’t look capable of such a thing. Of course, Doc reflected, few dead men looked
capable of much.
Festus
peered down at the dead man, eyes un-squinting for once. “Why thet thar’s Link Jenson, thet feller whut told us ‘bout the man lookin’
for ya’, Matthew.”
Doc tensed
as
The other
gunman just hooked his thumbs in his belt and cocked his head to get a look at
the man on the ground. “His name ain’t Link Jenson,” he observed.
Matt looked
down himself then grunted. “No, it’s
not,” he agreed, straightening. “That’s
Butcher Cole.”
A ripple
ran through the crowd. The name of
Butcher Cole evoked visions of plunder and rape and murder from almost twenty
years back. Doc remembered the terror
that had swept through the county – even the whole state – as that outlaw and
his band of marauders ripped viciously across the territory. As the physician recalled, a young marshal,
the badge still shiny on his chest, had tracked down the killers and brought
them all to justice – and acquired himself two serious bullet wounds for his
trouble. Butcher Cole had been dragged
out of Dodge screaming his intentions to finish off that young marshal if it
took twenty years.
No one was
quite sure why he was never hanged for his crimes, but, as far as they all
knew, he had spent the past twenty years in federal prison in
Dillon
rubbed absently at his chest against the memories of long-healed injuries. After a beat, he lifted his brow toward Newly. “I owe you,
marshal,” he said.
Another
ripple ran through the crowd at the unexpected title.
Newly shrugged. “Comes with
the territory, Marshal.”
“What in tarnation – “ Doc began.
Matt turned
toward Lane, and to everyone’s surprise, thrust out a hand to the man it
appeared he had been ready to draw on. “
“Now, I’d
be a right ignorant deputy if I didn’t know Matt Dillon.” The man smiled and took the hand. “Seems you already know who
I am.”
“I’m
assuming the Attorney General sent you,” Matt said.
Doc’s head
was spinning almost a quickly as Matt’s gun had a minute ago. “Matt, what’s going on?”
“You assume
right,” Lane said. “I was supposed to be
your temporary replacement.” He looked
over toward Newly.
“But I see maybe you already have one.”
Matt looked
back at Newly and nodded. “Did he send anything with you?”
“Oh.” Lane shoved a hand into his vest pocket and
pulled out a bulky envelope. “Said just
let him know when you were ready.”
“Thanks.” Matt took the envelope.
Still
baffled, Doc repeated, a little more urgently, “What’s going on?”
Before the
marshal could respond, though, the crowd parted, and Kitty came through, her
eyes wide. She stopped just in front of
Matt and placed a hand on his arm, as if she had to touch him to make sure he
really was all right. “I’d like to know,
too. What does he mean by
‘replacement’?”
The marshal
grimaced a bit and blew out a breath.
“Well – “
But before
he could finish, she cried, “Matt, you’re hurt!”
Instantly,
Doc squinted at the big man, alarmed to see a spreading stain of red on the
sleeve of his upper right arm. He cursed
at himself for not noticing it earlier.
“I’m okay,
Kitty.”
She
frowned, unconvinced. “Doc?” she called,
lifting the arm so the physician could take a look. Even though he had insisted he was okay, Matt
couldn’t suppress a hiss of pain.
“He got off
a shot before I realized what he was doing,” Newly said ruefully.
“He just
winged me, Doc,” Matt insisted, tugging his arm away from
“Winged
you, huh?” the doctor echoed doubtfully, his practiced eye taking in the
generous amount of blood that soaked the torn sleeve. “You let me be the judge of that.”
“Marshal,”
Burke asked loudly, “what’s this about a replacement?”
Several
others in the crowd echoed Burke’s question, but Doc saw the slight paleness
that had crept into the marshal’s cheeks and knew he was hurt more than he let
on.
“He’ll tell
you later,”
“Arrite!” Festus stomped about, scattering the crowd. “Ever-boddy
git on back ta’ whut you wuz doin’. Nothin’ ta’ see here.”
Of course,
there was plenty to see, but for the seasoned citizens it wasn’t anything
particularly unusual, so they acquiesced, still glancing back occasionally as
they moved on about their business.
“Replacement?” Kitty repeated, as Doc fussed over her husband’s arm. He heard the word continuing to be echoed
down the boardwalk as the citizens dispersed.
Dillon
smiled down at her, his stance suddenly a little unsteady.
“All
right,” Doc ordered, “You can talk all you want to after I’ve gotten a look at
that arm.” He snorted in
irritation. “’Winged,’
my foot.”
XXXX
The marshal
perched on Doc’s exam table, shirt and vest draped over a nearby chair so the
physician could get to the wound that was high on his arm – almost at his
shoulder, pleased that it had not come close to the scar that was an eternal
reminder of the injury that almost took his forearm. This one wasn’t nearly as bad, even though it
would have put most men in bed for a week.
Doc figured Dillon would favor it the rest of the day, then discard the sling he would only pretend to use even for
that long.
“See, Doc?”
the big lawman insisted, “I told you I was just winged.” Once he was seated, Dillon had regained his
color and now protested the doctor’s ministrations.
“It’s not
too bad, though, is it?” Kitty asked, her face paler
than it had been a few minutes before.
Doc
frowned, noting her pallor. “Well,” he
conceded, “I wouldn’t say he was ‘just winged,’ but it could have been worse.”
“See?” the
marshal said.
The door to
the office opened, and Hannah entered, a squirming Dillon baby in her
arms. “He’s gonna bust if he don’t get
to see is papa,” she declared.
Matt
grinned and slipped off the table while Doc was still trying to secure the
bandage.
“Hey!”
Ignoring
any pain from the wound, the big man extended his arms to take his son, but the
boy shook his head and pushed against Hannah.
“No, Papa,” he insisted. “I
walk.”
“What?”
Lowering
the child to the ground, the older woman let him wrap his fingers around her thumb
to gain his balance, then gently withdrew her
support. His legs, chubby but still
long, planted firmly on the floor before he took one, toddling
step. Surprised when he didn’t end up on
his rear, he chanced another, then another until he
had wobbled over within easy reach of his father’s outstretched arms. With a triumphant grin, he allowed the big,
strong man to swing him up high again, the deep laugh rumbling in his chest.
“By golly!”
Matt exclaimed, bracing the child in his left arm. “Look at that. Kitty, did you see that?”
“I saw,”
she said, laughing.
“When did
he learn that?” he asked, his expression a little sad that he had missed yet
another significant event in his child’s life.
But
Hannah’s words lifted the sadness. “Just
now,” she told him. “Been
tryin’ for a while now. Guess he needed some incentive – like seein’ is daddy again.”
Matt’s lips
tightened, and Doc realized the marshal was clamping down on a swell of
emotion. Swiping at his own eyes,
“Well,
now,” Hannah declared, her own expression decidedly sentimental. “This calls for a celebration. I’m buyin’!”
“Sounds
fine,” Doc agreed.
But Kitty
waved off the invitation, a move that drew everyone’s immediate attention to
her. “Count me out,” she said, voice too weak.
“Kitty?”
Doc asked, but suddenly she was sliding down the wall, the blood draining from
her already ashen face.
Doc reached
out to her, but Matt had shifted Sam back to Hannah and lunged to catch his
wife before
As fast as
he could lower his aging body,
She opened
her eyes, raising a shaking hand to her forehead. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Guess I got – a little dizzy.”
“Dizzy?”
Matt asked, then lifted troubled eyes to meet
If he
hadn’t been a little worried about Kitty, Doc would have smiled at the look of
something akin to panic on the normally controlled marshal’s face. It was endearing to see the concern he had
for her – always had been.
“She’s
okay, Matt,” he assured the worried husband.
“It happens sometimes in her – well, it happens.”
“In her –
what, Doc?” the marshal snapped, pouncing on the unfinished sentence. “What’s wrong?”
“Well,
nothing’s wrong, really,” the doctor began.
“She almost
fainted here,” Matt declared impatiently.
“What do you mean nothing’s wrong?”
“Well – “
Sighing,
Kitty placed a hand on her husband’s arm.
“I’m fine, Matt. It’s just that –
“ She glanced
at Hannah and Doc, who didn’t give an indication of budging.
“Kitty?”
Matt urged, voice hoarse and anxious.
She smiled
at him. “Well, Cowboy, it’s just that –
I’m pregnant.” She paused, then added, “Surprise.”
As Doc had
told him before, there were times that Matt Dillon could put on the best poker
face of anyone he knew. But this wasn’t
one of those times. On the contrary, the
shock was plastered plain to see all over his rugged features. His jaw dropped,
his bright blue eyes opened wide, and he stared at his wife until she couldn’t
help but laugh.
“You okay,
Matt?” she asked finally when he still hadn’t spoken in almost half a minute.
“I – what?”
“She’s pregnant, Marshal,” Doc provided,
chuckling a little himself. “That means
– “
“I know
what it means. I just – how – when – “
“Doc!”
Kitty scolded.
Dillon
glared at the doctor, lowering his voice so that his conversation became
exclusive between his wife and him. Doc
took the hint and backed away, although he couldn’t help overhearing them
anyway.
Taking her
hand in his, he murmured, “Kitty, I didn’t expect – I mean, you always, well –
we were – at least I thought we were – I mean we were careful – “
The redhead
smiled slyly, a mischievous tone touching her voice. “Picnic. Silver Creek.”
A furious
blush swept across Matt’s rugged cheeks.
“Ah.”
When Doc
stepped toward them again, he didn’t bother wiping the grin from his
mouth. The marshal quickly overcame any
embarrassment, though, and stood to his full, considerable height.
Still
holding Kitty’s hand, he let his intense gaze bore down on the doctor’s. “Doc, is this – I mean is it safe?”
“Safe?”
“I mean – “ Dillon threw a wary glance toward his wife, then decided
to risk the wrath his comments were sure to invoke. “I mean, Kitty’s forty-two – “
“Doc knows
how old I am,” she interrupted, glaring at her husband.
He ignored
her and pushed, “Is it safe? Is Kitty going to be all right?”
“Thanks,”
Kitty said flatly.
“ – but
she didn’t have any trouble with Sam, and this is not her first pregnancy, so I
don’t see why we should anticipate any problems.”
“Thank
God.”
Relief
washed over those strong features, and Doc sniffed back a sudden swell of
emotion as the big lawman sank to his knees, gathered Kitty into his arms and
held her tightly, his lips finding hers in a loving, gentle kiss. The physician indulged himself for a moment
with the tender scene, then cleared his throat and looked away. He noticed Hannah had no qualms about
observing them, though. The saloon owner
was grinning widely as she watched the couple.
“Hey!” Doc
protested, finding his voice and cringing as he envisioned the marshal’s leg or
back or shoulder or still-bleeding arm – or any untold number of old injuries –
giving way and pitching both of them to the floor. But Dillon didn’t even grunt as he carried
her past the doctor and into the bedroom, easing the door closed behind them.
Wide-eyed,
Hannah nodded in their direction.
“They’re not gonna – why, they’re not gonna – not in broad daylight – “
Doc
shrugged. He didn’t think so, but Matt
had done some uncharacteristic things the past year or so. He found himself both relieved and a little
disappointed when, after a couple of minutes, the marshal appeared at the door,
Kitty visible behind him, tucked into Doc’s bed.
“What?”
Matt asked at the look on both Doc’s and Hannah’s faces.
“Oh,
nothing,” Doc assured him, chagrined at even having considered the thought.
Glancing
quickly toward Hannah, who finally took a hint and turned slightly, offering
Sam a set of keys to play with, the marshal tugged
“Galen,” he
began, voice cracking.
“She is
gonna be all right, isn’t she?” Dillon asked, with such heart-breaking
earnestness that Doc had to swallow before he responded.
Of course,
even though Kitty was strong and healthy, no doctor could guarantee something
only God had complete control over. His
hesitation wrenched a hard breath from the big man.
“Isn’t she?” he pushed, then looked at Doc, his eyes raw and honest. “She has
to be,” he ground out softly between clenched teeth. “You know that, Doc, don’t you?”
Looking up
into the anguished face of the man who was the closest thing he had to a son,
Adams saw twenty years of regret and six months of despair and almost a year of
redemption all hinging on his words, all waiting for him to proclaim them to be
counted as gain or loss. Regardless of
what his physician’s training told him, he knew what he had to say.
Smiling, he
placed a hand on the broad shoulder.
“She’s going to be fine, Matt. I
promise.” He issued up a prayer that his
prophesy would be true. “I promise.”
Doc watched
the anxious man fight to hang onto the gush of relief that threatened to
embarrass him. After a few seconds,
their gazes met, the marshal’s rich with both gratitude and demand. He had no doubt Matt Dillon was going to hold
him to that promise.
Clearing
his throat roughly, Dillon stood straight and turned so that Hannah wasn’t
blocked from the conversation anymore.
“She wants to go home. Is it –
would that be all right for her?”
Gently, Doc
said, “I think so. Take it easy,
though.”
Matt
nodded, taking two long strides toward the door.
But Doc had
to do one selfish thing before he let them go.
“Just a minute, Matt. You haven’t explained what Lane was talking
about out there in the street. Replacement?” Narrowing his eyes, he asked pointedly, “What
have you gone and done?”
Dillon let
his hand drop from the knob, cocked his jaw, then said
quietly, “Something I should have done ten years ago, Doc.”
Before
A grin
breaking the tension on his face, Matt took the child and held him close. Voice husky, he repeated, “Something I should
have done ten years ago.”
“Are you
resigning, Matt?” he asked flatly, not completely sure what answer he wanted
the marshal to give him.
Dillon
paused, a curious smile crossing his lips.
After a moment, he said, enigmatically, “Yes and no.”
“It’s – kinda complicated.”
He sighed and looked at his son, who jingled Hannah’s keys happily. Gently extracting them from the child’s grip,
he handed them back to the saloon owner.
“And I’d like to tell Kitty first. You understand.”
Doc did,
indeed, understand that. Matt had
learned from experience that Kitty didn’t like being the last one to find out
about significant revelations. “Well,
okay. I’ll come out later and check on
her.” And you, too, he told himself
silently.
“Thank. I’ll get the wagon from Moss.” He turned back for a moment, teeth tugging
slightly at his lower lip. “Uh, can you
watch her for a while, Doc?”
Could he
watch her for a while? Compared to
twenty years, a while was a piece of
cake.
He
smiled. “I sure can, Matt,” he
said. “I sure can.”
Because
whether Matt asked or not, Doc Adams knew he would be watching her – watching them – for as long as the Good Lord gave
him that ability.
Chapter Eighteen: Home is Where the Heart is
POV: Kitty
Spoilers:
“The Badge;” “The Bullet”
Rating:
PG-13+ (Teen+)
Disclaimer:
The original GS characters aren’t mine, of course, but I created Sam. (Well, Matt and Kitty created him in my
story.)
Kitty
Dillon swung her legs over the side of Doc’s bed, pleased that her head had
decided to cooperate and stop swimming.
In fact, she felt just fine, thank you, a fact that she figured would
mean absolutely nothing the instant the physician saw her standing. Nevertheless, she was fine, and as soon as
they returned, she would take her husband and child and go home. She and Matt apparently had some things to
talk about.
He hadn’t
said a word to her about resigning, at least not since she had insisted he
retract his letter to the Attorney General months ago. He had merely gone about doing his job as
usual, although she did notice that Festus and Newly
seemed to pull more out-of-town duties than before. Of course, that suited her just fine, even
though she was the one who had pushed him not to resign, wanting him to be
happy – in a way trying to make up for the agony she had put him through after
she left. As usual, the thought of those
terrible months without him twisted her heart.
All the what-ifs haunted her.
What if she had waited for him to come back, like Doc asked? What if she had told Hannah flat out where
she would be? What if she had told Matt
about the baby? What if –
Shaking her
head, she shoved those painful, frustrating, and fruitless ponderings
away. Didn’t do any
good now. As Matt had told her,
that was water under the bridge. They
were finally sailing together in the same vessel toward the same destination,
or at least they had been until
Regardless,
she regretted his not being there when Sam was born. With a private smile, she let her hand rest
on her stomach, feeling the subtle swell there.
This time it would be different.
This time he would see his child come into the world. She would make that up to him, at least.
Having
suppressed the troubling memories, she drew in a deep breath, nodding in
satisfaction when her legs held her steady.
Maybe she could sneak down the stairs before Doc –
“Here,
now!” The startling, but not unexpected,
scolding stopped her at the threshold between the bedroom and office.
“I’m
perfectly fine,” she proclaimed to the physician who stood scowling before her.
“What do
you know about the Can-Can?”
Momentarily
distracted, as she had hoped, he bristled.
“I’m a man of the world, I’ll have you know. I’ve been to – “ The
gray eyes narrowed as he caught on and he continued in a wheedling tone. “Now, Kitty, you just go on back and lie
down. Matt’ll
be here in a minute and you can get up then.”
“I promise
you, I really do feel all right now. Not
dizzy. Not queasy. I promise.”
He frowned,
and she read the doubt on his face.
After a beat or two, his shoulders rolled in a resigned shrug. “Suit yourself,” he
growled. “Nobody listens to their
doctor, anyway, especially that hard headed bullet magnet you married, by the
way. He didn’t just get ‘winged,’ you
know. He lost a lot of blood, should be
in bed himself. But I suppose all those
years of medical training I took were wasted since everybody around here
diagnoses themselves anyway.”
Kitty
ignored the ubiquitous fussing and placed a pacifying hand on his arm. “Want to check me out?”
“Miss Russell,”
he confided with a smirk, “I checked you out that first day you waded into the
café, and I’ve been checking you out ever since.”
“Is that
so?”
“Trouble is, that big cowboy you’re waitin’
on was checkin’ you out, too. If I’d just been twenty years younger – “
“Or if I’d
just been twenty years older,” she offered generously.
He smiled
wistfully, and she was surprised to see that he really seemed to be considering
that “what if.” Then he cleared his
throat and looked down, flushing a bit.
“Well, somebody
needed to keep that overgrown galoot straight.”
He ran a hand over his mustache and shook his head. “Too late now, anyway. Guess you’d better stay with him – for the
boy’s sake.” His voice fell, hardening
into seriousness. “He’d be lost without
you. You know he would, don’t you, Kitty?”
He left the rest unsaid: “You
know he was.”
She let her
tone match his. “Not any more than I
would be lost without him, Doc. You know
that, too, don’t you?”
“Almost,” she emphasized, the ache
brushing over her heart again. “Almost. But that’s
past us, now.”
“So it
is.” He let the heavy moment linger a
bit, then smiled up at her. “I’m not sure I’ve said this to you since –
well, it’s awful good to have you home, Kitty.”
Tears
sprang to her eyes at the depth of emotion in his rough voice. She kissed him softly on the cheek, and
returned, with equal sincerity, “It’s awful good to be
home.”
He sighed;
then she saw him push a smile to his face.
“You know,” he said, his tone lighter, “that
big oaf was so excited earlier that he headed out the door without his shirt
on.”
Her eyes
widened at the vision – a very nice one, but one she preferred to keep
private. There were already too many
appreciative female eyes following him down the boardwalks as it was. “He didn’t!”
Laughter
erupted from Kitty’s throat at the image.
She would have sacrificed a bottle of her best whiskey to have seen
that. “Oh, Doc,” she gasped. “Poor Matt!”
And lucky
Mrs. Pry, she thought. The old biddie didn’t deserve such a treat.
The outer
door opened and Kitty half-expected to see the biddie
herself come storming in, cackling about civil servants and indecent
exposure. She was mildly disappointed
when
“Excuse
me,” he said, eyes taking in both Doc and Kitty in a quick sweep, a habit she
had observed from Matt many times. It
came with the job. “I was looking for
Marshal Dillon. Miss – “ He faltered a bit and frowned. “Uh, the lady that runs the
A pang of
regret touched Kitty. For so long she
had been the “lady that runs the
“He’ll be
back in a minute,” Doc said. “You can
wait, if you’d like,
The younger
man’s brow rose, as if he were surprised to learn Doc knew who he was. “Thanks.
I’m sorry I don’t know your – “
“Name’s
Despite her
attempt not to, Kitty flinched a little at the unpleasant reminder.
Lane turned
toward her and tugged at the brim of his hat.
“Ma’am.
You must be Marshal Dillon’s wife.
I heard he got married a while back.
It was kinda big news. Friend of mine up in
She arched
a brow, and he blushed suddenly, as if he realized he might have been
improper. “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am, if I –
“
But Kitty
saw the amusement in that loaded observation and just smiled. “I guess I did,” she agreed, still a little
surprised about that herself.
Emboldened
by her kindness, he added, “If I may say so, ma’am, he’s a fortunate man, the
Marshal is.”
“I wouldn’t
dream of disputing you.”
“Now,
Kitty,” Doc said, taking her arm, “why don’t you at least sit until Matt gets
back? “
Gently, she
turned to the hovering physician. “Would
it make you feel better?”
“It would.”
In
concession, she eased herself into his office chair, refusing to give him the
satisfaction of hearing her relieved sigh.
“Did I hear
you tell Matt you were sent here as a replacement?” Doc asked the deputy, his
attempt casual, but not enough to smooth the sharpness of the underlying
interest.
“Yes, sir,”
Lane answered, suddenly tugging his hat from his head, as if just now
remembering his manners. “I was over in
“Just
temporary, though, I think you said.”
“That’s
right. I was just going to be here until
they assigned someone permanently. From
the looks of things, though, the Marshal already decided on that fella that took out Butcher Cole. I’ll head back toward
Kitty’s
thoughts spun with confusion, curiosity, hope – and irritation. It seemed Matt had made a decision – perhaps
the most important decision of his life – without asking her. Well, without telling her, anyway. She didn’t necessarily expect him to seek her
permission, but she would have appreciated a little notice before the whole
town found out. The edge of anger knifed
through her, and she took a breath to suppress it.
“I hafta say I never expected to meet Matt Dillon,” Lane
continued. “He’s – well, I guess it
sounds kinda corny to say, but he really is a
legend.”
“Oh, no,”
Doc assured him, gray eyes lit with mischief, “not corny at all. In fact, why don’t you tell him that
yourself? I know he’d love to hear it.”
Lane raised
an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Oh, sure. Get a big kick out of it.”
Kitty threw
the older man a scowl, half-serious, half-amused. He knew very well Matt despised the term
“legend” when it was applied to him. It
embarrassed him.
Heavy
footfalls on the steps drew their attention.
“The legend
approaches,” Doc noted with more than a touch of drama. Kitty couldn’t help but smirk at the devilish
anticipation on his face.
Then, they
heard the giggles of Sam Dillon drift delightfully up to them. Kitty’s anger vanished completely, replaced
by a smile that was instant and uncontrollable.
Instead of
Matt’s deep tones, though, the voice they heard carried a distinctive nasal
twang. “Doc!”
Festus
appeared in the doorway, his mouth curved in a familiar grin. Behind him, Matt ducked low to keep the child
on his shoulders from hitting the frame.
He was hatless, his son’s hands clutching generous locks of gray-brown
curls like make-shift reins within the chubby fingers.
“Kitty!” he
declared, his expressive face both pleased and startled. “Should you be out of bed?’
“She’s
fine, Matt,” Doc assured him, and Kitty threw the physician a look. As she figured, he’d only been mother-henning her earlier – mostly, anyway. “Just irritating. Why don’t you three stop botherin’
me and head home?” But the warm twinkle
in his eye belied his rough words. “I’ll
be around for lunch tomorrow, if anybody’s cookin’.”
“You just
come on by, Curly,” Kitty said, spirits lifted by the return of her two men and
the thought of going home with them.
“I’ll make some of that steak stew you like.”
“By golly,
I will.”
“Marshal,”
Lane greeted, his voice firm, but softened in respect. “I was just telling Mrs. Dillon and Doctor
Adams here that since you seem to have found a temporary man I’ll head on back
toward
Lane’s
comment wiped the easy smile from Matt’s lips.
He darted an uneasy glance toward Kitty.
“Oh. Uh, sure.”
“I’ll send
a telegram to let them know about the change in plans. Be glad to get home, anyway. I miss the mountains.” He grinned.
“Guess we’re comfortable with whatever’s home, huh?” Turning to Kitty, he asked, “Is your home
originally Dodge, Mrs. Dillon?”
“Oh, no,”
she said. “I’m from
“Guess
that’s true enough,” Lane agreed.
“Besides,”
she smiled, catching her husband’s gaze and holding it, “my mother used to say
‘home is where the heart is’.” It was
one of the few memories she had of the woman who had died so young.
Something
flickered behind Matt’s clear blue eyes, something that resembled an intriguing
mixture of joy and regret. She longed to
be alone with him, to ask him what he was thinking, what he knew that she
didn’t. But Lane’s next words snapped
her attention back to him.
“That’s a
good way of thinkin’, ma’am,” the deputy said. “Maybe you won’t miss the prairie too much,
then.”
Miss the
prairie? “What do you – “
“I guess I
should explain,” Matt offered, wincing as he swung Sam down to the floor where
the child immediately resumed his experiments with the newly-acquired skill of
walking.
“I guess,”
Doc agreed with a nod, eyes suddenly sharp and narrowed.
With a
chagrined flush, Lane shifted nervously.
“I’m sorry, Marshal. I thought
that – ” He
glanced at Kitty. “I sure didn’t mean to
– “
“It’s all
right,” Matt assured him. All right? Kitty
reckoned he was a bit premature in that assessment.
The broad
shoulders lifted in a deep breath, then fell.
“I guess you’ve already figured out that I’ve recommended Newly as the new marshal of this territory,” he told them.
She
nodded. “Newly’s a good man,” she said,
almost smiling at the flash of relief on the handsome face. Almost. He still had a lot of talking to do.
“He shore nuff is,” Festus agreed, teeth showing through his scraggly
beard. Kitty had almost forgotten the
other deputy was there. She was glad he
seemed to accept the situation without resentment – not that she’d ever figure
Festus to begrudge his friends anyway.
“Hold on,”
Doc interrupted impatiently. “When I
asked you if you had resigned, you said ‘yes and no.’ If Newly’s replacing you,
that sounds like a ‘yes’ to me.”
“I did send
in my resignation,” Matt confirmed.
“But?”
Kitty asked, knowing there must be more to it.
“But,” Lane
interjected, a touch of awe in his voice, “the attorney general wouldn’t accept
it.”
Doc frowned
and sputtered, “He can’t do that, can he?
You have the years.”
“It’s not
exactly that he didn’t accept it,” Matt told them. “It’s more like he – “ She
saw the hesitation in his eyes as he looked up.
Flicking his thumb toward the door he said, “Doc, uh, don’t you figure
maybe Deputy Lane might be interested in a drink?”
The
physician frowned. “What?” But comprehension dawned quickly enough, and
he stepped forward, tugging at Lane’s sleeve as he passed. “Come on, son. I’ll buy you a beer at the
“Oh, sure,”
Lane agreed, shoving his hat back on.
The two
started toward the door, but stopped when they heard the pointed cough. Kitty hid a smile at Festus’ naked hint.
Without the
time to allow the development of their usual banter, Doc just shook his
head. “Well, what are you waitin’ for? I’ll
buy you one, too.”
“Well, now,
thet’s rite good of ya’,
Doc. ‘Sides, I figger ol’
Matthew mite need hisseff some privit-like
time with Miz Kitty – “
“Why don’t
you just hush?”
The door
closed behind them, leaving her staring up at her husband, unsure about what
awaited them, and still angry – and a little hurt – with him for not telling
her. She glanced around to see that Sam
had plopped himself down in the midst of a set of blocks Doc kept handy for
just such visits. The little boy would
probably keep busy another few minutes, anyway.
Long enough, perhaps, to find out what on earth was going on.
“Kitty, I’m
sorry I didn’t – “
She held up
a hand to stop him. “You had your
reasons, I know, Matt. And I’m sure they
were good. It’s just a little hard to
find out your husband is doing something as – as monumental as giving up a job
that was so important for twenty years he couldn’t – ” She stopped, regretting the words as soon as
she saw the guilt cloud his blue eyes again.
Damn
it. She had promised herself she wouldn’t
bring that up. It didn’t matter
anymore. “I didn’t mean – “
A large,
but gentle hand closed around her arm.
“Kitty, I’m sorry. I was going to
tell you as soon as Newly and I got back, but then
Lane was there – and Butcher Cole. I
just didn’t have the chance.”
All true,
she had to acknowledge. Softening, she
nodded, gripping his hard biceps automatically, not remembering about the
bullet wound until his quick, involuntary hiss reminded her, and she jerked her
hand away. “Oh, Matt, I’m sorry.”
He shook
his head and smiled, but the expression remained strained. “It’s okay.”
“Really,
Matt,” she urged, “I’m sorry about – about the other, too. I didn’t mean to – well, I know you would
have told me if you could.”
“I have resigned, Kitty, but – there’s
something else. Something we need to
talk about.”
Something else. Something
besides resigning? Wasn’t that
enough? Her mind raced back to Lane’s
comment. “Maybe you won’t miss the prairie too much,
then.”
And
suddenly, she realized.
“Kitty?” he
asked abruptly, his hands going to her shoulders. “Are you feeling okay? You’re not going to faint again, are you?”
She knew
her face must have reflected the shock of comprehension. “I’m fine,” she assured him softly.
He frowned
doubtfully and gestured to Doc’s chair.
“Why don’t you sit down?”
“I don’t
need to,” she insisted, anxious for him to continue.
But a
closer look showed her that, even though she didn’t need to sit down, Matt
apparently did. A thin line of sweat
beaded on his forehead, his cheeks were pale under the deeply-burned tan.
“On second
thought,” she decided, “maybe I do.” She
took his hand, alarmed that it was slightly clammy. “Let’s sit on the bed.”
“Bed?” His brow rose and he leered at her, a move
that helped dispel the nudge of worry.
If he could flirt with her, he was okay.
Just tired, and – of course – he had
been shot.
“Just to
talk, Mister,” she teased back easily.
He pressed
his lips together in mock disappointment.
“Look,
Marshal Dillon, I’ve forgiven you for not telling me before about
resigning. Don’t push it.”
“Yes,
ma’am,” he agreed meekly – or as meekly as Matt Dillon could sound,
anyway. “Not pushing it.”
Sam ignored
them as they passed his elaborate construction masterpiece, too focused on building
a structure that might have been a miniature version of the
“Matt,” she
began, determined to make him level with her.
“Are you all right?”
His head
came up quickly, his eyes questioning.
“What?”
“Are you
all right?” she repeated, her tone insisting that he be honest about that, for
once.
“Well,
sure, Kitty. I thought you were the one
not feeling well.” He grinned a little,
and laid his hand across her stomach.
“Although I guess I’m partly to blame for that.”
“I’m
serious, Matt. You look – well, you
don’t look so hot. “
His brow
rose, and he feigned insult. “Well,
thanks.”
“You know
what I mean. You’re pale, you’re sweating, and you look like you haven’t slept
in a week.”
“Oh.” Sheepishly, he dropped his gaze from
hers. “Well, maybe I understated a bit
when I told Doc that Cole just winged me,” he admitted, rubbing gingerly at the
wounded arm. She knew how much it took
for him to admit to that. He looked back
up at her, eyes sincere. “But it’s not
that bad, really, Kitty. I’ve had much
worse.”
God, didn’t
she know it.
“As for
sleeping,” he smiled disarmingly, “I’ve discovered it’s hard to do without a
certain beautiful, hot redhead in my arms.”
“I’ve discovered you don’t do much
sleeping when that redhead’s in your arms,” she countered, grateful for it. Still, she wasn’t letting him off the hook
completely. “Nightmares?” she guessed.
A shadow
crossed his face, his voice hardened a bit. It was his defense against the
turmoil of emotion the dreams brought.
“I’m just tired, Kitty,” he said.
“It was a long trial and a long trip.
And I’m just tired.”
Years of
experience had taught her to let it go when she heard that tone. Even now, as his wife, she knew when to push
and when not to push. Satisfied that he
was just hurting from the wound and tired from the trip, she let her right hand
cup his jaw, silently telling him she understood. He relaxed slightly with her touch.
“You had
something we needed to talk about?” she prompted gently. “What did you mean when you said the Attorney General didn’t exactly not accept your resignation?”
Blue eyes
regarded her evenly, the intensity in them letting her
know this was serious. “He offered me
another job.”
Surprised
at first, she realized the announcement wasn’t really unexpected. In fact, it seemed rather obvious when she
thought about it. “Another
job?”
“I told him
no, but he was – well, he asked me to think it over.”
A sudden
fear clutched at her throat, a feat that it could be worse, that he could be
placed in even greater danger.
“It would
mean still wearing this badge,” he told her, tapping the damnable bit of metal
on his chest. “That’s why – Kitty, I
know what you’ve sacrificed for me. I
won’t do this if you don’t want me to.”
Pain twisted his features just briefly before he conquered it, and she
wasn’t sure if it was emotional pain or physical pain – or both.
She started
to tell him it was no sacrifice, but realized it had been, of course. A sacrifice she had willingly made, but a
sacrifice, nonetheless.
“I thought
he’d be glad to see me finally step down.
I was once the youngest marshal; I figure now I’m probably the oldest.”
Kitty
raised an ironic brow. “Just because everyone else is dead.”
Smiling
ruefully, Matt agreed. “Most likely.”
He sounded
a little bewildered about the whole thing, but Kitty wasn’t surprised at
all. Whatever the offer was, it surely
involved him still working for the marshal’s service. Of course the Attorney General would want to
hang on to Matt Dillon tooth and nail if he could. She considered Lane’s description. To many people, he really was a legend. How could they let a legend go?
Warily, she
asked, “What’s the job?”
“We could
forget it all and just start that ranch,” he hedged.
“What’s the
job?”
He sucked
in a breath and finally told her. “The
War Department is starting a program to prepare new marshals, and he wants me
to – “
Thank
God. Relief coursed through her
body. “He wants you to help train them,”
she finished for him, her throat relaxing.
A training program. So other men could go out and get shot
instead of Matt. Well, he had paid his
dues. Thank God.
But Matt
was wincing. “Actually, it’s a little
more than that. He, uh, he wants me to –
“
“To what?”
she prompted, afraid again.
“To run
it,” he said simply.
Kitty
stared, wide-eyed, at him. “Run it? For the territory?”
His lips
pressed together hard for a second. Then
he cocked his jaw and shrugged. “For the country.”
For the country? For the entire
She felt
her mouth drop, amazed – even knowing how unique Matt was in his talent – that he would be in charge of a national program. “For the country,” she repeated, still
slightly bemused. Then, as the notion
rooted itself into her mind, she said it again, this time with confident
acceptance. “For the
country.”
But of course. Hell, who on earth would be
better to train marshals than the best of them all? With a firm nod, she asked, “When do you
start, Marshal Dillon?”
Swallowing,
he leaned forward to take both her hands in his. “Like I said, I told the Attorney General
I’d think on it – and I’d have to ask my wife.”
My wife.
Even though
they’d been married for almost a year, she still felt that thrill dash through
her heart when she heard him use those words, words she had never really believed
she would ever hear. Words that were now
almost as precious as the other words he whispered to her late at night when he
drew her to him and entwined their bodies in the most intimate of dances.
“Kitty?”
She lifted
her head, pushing the distracting vision to the back of her mind. If she let it take over now it would be quite
some time before the conversation was finished.
Here was a chance for Matt to remain a marshal, for him to do the job he
had devoted his life to – and at the same time a chance for her to live a
little more normally, not waiting for that dreadful moment she had feared so
many years. Could fate have dealt them
any better hand?
“When do
you start?” she asked again, her voice warm with pride and support.
His lips
turned up in a smile at the implication.
“Don’t you want to know more about the job?”
But she
shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. If it’s what you want – “
“Is it what
you want, Kitty? Because if it’s not – “
“If it’s
what you want, Matt, it’s what I want.”
She saw his
jaw muscles clench. “Kitty,” he
whispered, voice rough. “Are you sure? I
just want you to be happy. I just want –
“
Sliding her
hand to cup his cheek, she leaned forward to brush his lips with hers. “I am happy, Matt. I’ve never been happier than I am right now.”
His mouth
accepted her kiss, moving on her lips in a gesture that began lovingly and
sweetly, but that instantly exploded into a fire of desire, shooting to her
core. He had been gone for almost two
weeks, and she ached to be with him again.
She forgot about where they were, about their child playing innocently
in the next room. Her body took over as
his mouth pressed more firmly, opening her lips so that his tongue could ease
inside.
His muscles
tensed, as if he thought about pushing her away, but that ephemeral move gave
way to the sensations that quickly engulfed them. Lying back on the bed, he pulled her on top
of him, fitting their hips together. She
moaned his name.
His breath
came faster. She heard his heart
pounding beneath her ear as she laid her head on his chest. “Kitty, we need to stop,” he whispered
hoarsely, making no move whatsoever to do anything about it.
“Okay,” she
gasped, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, anxious to run her lips over
his bare skin.
He groaned,
his fingers wrapping around her arms as if to pull her off, but instead, he
held her firmly and arched his hips so that she could feel him swell against
her. “Kitty.”
“We
shouldn’t be – doing this – here,” she managed to choke out, even as his large
hands caressed her buttocks, pressed her harder into him.
“No,” he
agreed, tugging at the buttons down the back of her dress.
“Sam’s in
the next room,” she reminded him, her tongue trailing across the strong planes
of his chest while her hands pushed the shirt away from his body.
“Uh huh.” Smoothly, he turned her on the bed so that he
knelt between her thighs, hands pushing up her skirts, his earlier fatigue
apparently forgotten.
“And Doc
could come back any minute.” Her hands
slid down his stomach and beneath the waistband of his pants to close over the
burning shaft, sighing with pleasure when he pulsed hard in her grasp.
“Kitty,” he
groaned, thrusting into her grip. “D-don’t – I can’t – “
But she was
almost too far gone to listen, wanting nothing more than to open to him, to
feel him fill her again and again.
Nothing could stop them now.
Nothing could keep them from satisfying the overwhelming need that swept
them.
Nothing except the jarring squeal of their eleven-month-old child.
“Papa!”
Sam’s call from the other room cut through the heat of desire enough to bring
them back to semi-sanity.
With a
rare, but fierce, expletive, Matt rolled off her and fell back on the bed. Kitty sat up, gasping, her heart racing, her
body surging.
“Matt
Dillon!” she tried to scold, but in reality she had barely kept in her own snap
of profanity.
“Oh, God,”
he groaned, eyes closed tightly.
She winced
as her gaze ran down his body and saw the urgent need straining against his
pants. “That’s gotta
be uncomfortable,” she sympathized. “And hard to take care of now.”
Teeth
gritted, breath coming fast, he opened his eyes and looked down at himself
ruefully. “Hard is the operative word,” he muttered. “And I thought I was taking care of it.”
“I thought I was taking care of it,” she amended,
just as ruefully.
Dragging in
a gulp of air, Matt closed his eyes in an attempt to calm his body. Wincing in failure, he opened them again and
looked toward his child, who had toddled into the doorway. “Son,” he declared, “we’ve got to work on
your timing.”
“Nap,
Papa?” the boy observed, seeing his father on the bed.
Kitty
laughed. “That’s right. Papa’s taking a nap.”
“No nap,”
Sam frowned, then smiled again with innocent
glee. “Bocks, Papa. See bocks.”
Matt raised
his head and glance past the partially open door at the stacks of blocks
beyond. “He wants to show us the
blocks,” he declared sarcastically to Kitty.
“Yes.”
But after a
moment, he let a pained grin touch his lips.
“Yes, Sam. I saw the blocks. They look real fine. Maybe you’re gonna be an architect.”
Pleased at
that thought, Kitty smiled at her husband.
It was probably rare for an architect to be in a gun battle in the
middle of the street. Sam seemed
satisfied with the response, toddling back into the outer room to resume his
construction.
Resisting
the urge to place a hand on his chest, knowing that would counteract any
attempt at recovery, she said, “Is it too much to hope that there’s no shooting
at each other?”
“What?”
“When
you’re training people,” she clarified.
“There’s
shooting, but only at targets,” he assured her, rolling onto his side.
“Targets
don’t usually shoot back, do they?”
An
understanding smile curved his lips.
“No, Kitty, they don’t.”
“Matt,” she
asked, giving him another chance to get out of the decision. “Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”
“I’m sure,
Kitty. It’s time. It’s time for me, and it’s time for Newly.” His voice
fell almost to a whisper as he drew her close again, brushing his lips with
hers. “And it’s time for you.”
Reluctantly,
she sighed, feeling her body start to surge again against his unabated
arousal. “As much as I hate to say it,
you’d better stop that. It’s how we got started before.”
He kissed
her once more before pulling away.
“Kitty, there’s something else you need to know about the job. It means we’ll have to – “
“Well,
hello there, Sam!”
Kitty felt
the unexpected greeting shoot through her, propel her from Matt’s grasp and off
the bed as if she had gunpowder under her.
She stood panting as Doc’s familiar shuffle stopped while he talked with
her little boy in the outer office.
Hastily,
she ran her hands over her body, checked her clothes, relieved that Matt hadn’t
succeeded in unbuttoning her. Satisfied
that she wasn’t too disheveled, she looked at her husband and grimaced. Disheveled didn’t even begin to describe
him. His hair curled wildly over his
eyes, his shirt hung half-off revealing a chest reddened from her fevered
caresses, his pants – well, his pants failed miserably to hide the very obvious
evidence of his continued excitement.
“You’d
better stay in here,” she told him. “At
least until you can comb your hair and tuck in your shirt, and until – “
He
nodded. “I’ll be out in a minute,” he
said, voice strained.
“A minute?” she asked skeptically as she
eyed the substantial bulge at his groin.
“I’ll think
about Mrs. Pry,” he told her.
“That oughta do it,” she agreed with a smirk.
Sam looked
up, handing her a block as she pushed open the door. She accepted with lavish thanks. He seemed satisfied and turned back to
building his metropolis.
Doc eyed
her suspiciously as she entered. “You
okay? You look a little flushed.”
“You
complained that I was pale before,” she reminded. “Isn’t this better?”
“Depends on
why,” he insisted.
“Well, I
feel just fine.”
“Matt go somewhere?”
“What?” she
asked, knowing her tone fell well short of convincing.
“Matt
Dillon. Big fellow. Hard to miss. He was in here when I left. I was wondering if he went somewhere.”
“He – uh –
he’s lying down. He was a little
shaky.” That was the truth, although not
all of it.
The
physician jerked. “Is he feelin’ bad? His arm bothering him?
I told you he lost a lot of blood.”
He reached for his bag, but Kitty stepped between him and the door.
“He’s okay,
Doc. Just tired.”
“But – “
“Why don’t
you check me out before we leave?” she suggested, knowing he’d be hard pressed
to deny an actual voluntary exam.
“Well,” he
hesitated. “If you’re sure he’s okay – “
“I can’t
imagine why I fainted earlier,” she began, effectively regaining his attention.
“What have
you eaten today?” Doc asked, his expression telling her he already knew.
From years
of experience, she realized it wouldn’t do any good to try to elude him. “A half a piece of toast and some coffee,”
she confirmed, almost defiantly.
“How much
coffee?” he pushed.
Frowning,
she admitted, “Four sips.”
“Uh huh. Kitty, you know you have to eat.”
“Doc – “
“I’m
serious. You’re eating for – “
“Two. I know.
Otherwise, am I okay?”
Reluctantly,
he nodded.
Glancing
over to the closed bedroom door and remembering how close she and Matt had come
to making love a few minutes before, she asked, a little shyly, “Does that mean
that – well – can I – we – that is, can Matt and I – “
“What?”
“Is it okay
for us to – “ She faltered, waiting for him to get it.
After a
moment, his eyes widened, and then quickly narrowed. “Oh, for Heaven’s sake. Is that all you think about – “
“Well, can
we?” she pushed, her eagerness trumping her embarrassment.
He sighed
and rubbed at his mustache. “Yes, I
suppose, but make sure it’s – “
“Nice and
easy,” she supplied sweetly.
He
grunted. “I seem to recall giving those
same instructions before without either of you payin’
any attention to them.”
“I
promise.”
He rolled
his eyes and grunted again. “I’ll leave
some salve.”
At that
moment, Matt emerged from the back, looking reasonably intact, although his
hair remained a little mussed, and he had missed the third button from the top
on his shirt, giving a nice view of his broad chest. Kitty let her eyes drop to his pants,
relieved to see no blatant display there.
One look at Doc, however, let her know they had not fooled him a bit.
The big
lawman blinked at the frown the older man plastered on him for no apparent
reason. “What?”
But the
physician just shook his head hopelessly.
“Don’t blame me if you end up with a passel of young’uns
by the time you’re fifty.”
Matt’s lips
pressed tightly together in confusion and consternation, but Kitty just smiled
and patted the older man’s arm.
“Don’t
worry.” Her eyes cut toward her
husband. “I’ll know who to blame.”
The big man
lifted his chin suspiciously. “Well, I’m
not sure what I did, but I have a feeling I should just keep my mouth shut.”
“And your
pants,” Doc added in a mumble that was remarkably clear.
“What?” He
looked down self-consciously, confirming Doc’s suspicions.
“Doc!”
Kitty exclaimed.
“I’m gonna
have to burn those sheets, now.”
Crimson
flushed across Matt’s face at the doctor’s pointed observation.
She placed
her hand on her hips. “We didn’t – “ But the truth was, they came damn close. “Oh, you can believe what you want. Come on, Matt, let’s go home.”
The smile
that crept to Doc’s lips softened his grumbling. “Oh, listen, I know you didn’t – well, at
least I figured you wouldn’t – for Pete’s sake, I’m kidding, Kitty.”
“Well – “
“You do
take it easy, though. Both of you.” He turned to deliver a pointed, accusing
glare at the marshal, who had the grace at least to blush and nod
obediently. “And I mean that.”
Swinging
Sam up into his arms, Matt rolled his eyes.
“Bye, bye, G’pa,” the child called out, waving toward his adopted
grandfather.
Kitty
watched the physician try to hide the sudden well of tears and noticed a telling
exchange between the older man and Matt.
“Doc?” she asked, perplexed.
Matt stared
at the doctor for a long minute. “Zeke?”
he asked simply.
Doc nodded,
a sad smile touching his lips.
The two men
regarded each other silently until Matt broke the moment and nodded once. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Doc,” he said, his
hand catching her elbow and guiding her toward the door.
Despite her
mounting anxiety, Kitty smiled at the old man’s teasing. Even Matt allowed himself an embarrassed smirk when
But she
realized in that moment that it didn’t matter.
Doc knew as much as she did, perhaps more. “No,” she said, placing a hand on Matt’s
chest. Before we – “
Her eyes darted to Doc. “Before –
you were going to tell me the rest of your news.”
Matt’s arm
slid around her waist, tugging a little harder.
“I’ll tell you on the way home,” he said.
Home. Shaking her head, she looked up into the
handsome face of her cowboy, knowing already what that news was. The distant sound of her mother’s voice
returned to her.
She thought
about all those times she had tried to leave
“Where?” she asked simply.
“Kitty, if
you want to stay here, if you want to stay home, I understand. I told you already that we can start that
ranch – “
“And I told
you, Cowboy, that home is where the heart is.”
Her hand pressed warmly against his chest, right over that big, generous
heart. “And this is where I’ll always
be.”
His jaw
muscles worked hard, clenching and unclenching in an attempt to keep his
emotions in check.
“Now,” she
smiled, “where?”
After a
long beat, he let a tender smile touch his lips. With a quick glance toward Doc, he sighed and
squared to look her straight in the eye.
“
“D.C.?”
“D.C.”
Doc’s
bittersweet smile made her heart ache.
She had meant what she said to Matt.
And she would follow him to
But this
time, she wouldn’t be alone.
Chapter Nineteen: Neglected
POV: Matt
Spoilers:
“Hostage!” (minor)
Rating: R
Disclaimer:
The original GS characters aren’t mine, of course, but I created Sam. (Well, Matt and Kitty created him in my
story.)
Matt Dillon
groaned and fell back hard, his muscles suddenly leaden and uncooperative, his
breath heaving from him, his energy exhausted.
He had hung on as long as he could, but the forces that pounded his body
proved too powerful to overcome, and now he lay, unmoving, arms flung out to
his side, legs stretched uselessly. If
one of his many enemies had chosen that instant to attack him, he doubted he
had the strength even to raise his head in acknowledgement of the assailant. At that moment, the formidable
And he had
gotten himself into that condition with perfect willingness – eagerness, even.
A soft moan
drifted from beside him, a gentle hand slid across his ribs to rest at the
center of his chest. He envisioned it
bouncing with the hard pounding of his heart.
Her body turned to press against his side, her breasts burning into his
skin, sparking the embers that still glowed despite the fire she had recently
allowed him to extinguish inside her.
“Nice and
easy,” Doc had said, and Matt had tried.
He really had tried, but the slow, sensuous burn that began their
lovemaking had exploded into a conflagration that consumed him. At least he was comforted to know – judging
from her heavy sigh and languid body – that Kitty had been just as consumed as
he was.
Now,
climbing up from the smoldering ruins, he mustered enough energy to twist his
body, prop on one hand, and peer down at her.
A contented smile curved her lips, and he couldn’t resist leaning over to
kiss them.
“Mmm,” she
murmured.
“Mmm? Is that all?”
“That’s all
you’re gonna get from me, Cowboy.”
“Yeah?”
“You wore
me out.”
His
satisfaction faltered with the alarm that shot through him, jolting him from
the haze of serenity. “Kitty, are you –
“
Shaking her
head, she opened her eyes long enough to roll them at him. “I’m fine, Matt. If you’re gonna become a
hovering mother hen until this baby is born – “
But he
couldn’t shake the seriousness of her health.
“I mean it, Kitty. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,
Doctor Dillon,” she scolded. “Better than fine. I
just had a very big, very handsome – and very
talented – man give me the most pleasure I’ve had since – “
She paused,
and he smiled, prompting, “Since?”
“Since the
last time that very big, very handsome, very talented man pleasured me.”
“And that,”
he declared in between nibbles on her smooth skin, “was much too long ago.”
Arching her
neck to allow him better access, she murmured, “Much too long.”
He clucked
his tongue against his teeth. “Very neglectful of him.”
“Very,” she
agreed. “How do you think he should make
up for that neglect?”
“Hmm. Give
me a few minutes to think.”
Her hand
strayed down his abdomen and lower, making him suck in a quick breath. “I do believe,” she purred,
”that you are already coming – up
– with something.”
He moaned
and grinned at the same time, nudging her onto her back so that he could lay
his head on her shoulder and let his eyes close, his thoughts drifting
pleasantly over the previous hour he had spent in her arms as her touch readied
him again.
XXXX
It had
taken him longer than he wanted to unhitch the horses and dutifully rub them
down, the frustrating ache in his arm slowing him. But he had managed to complete the task in
only a little more time than usual, while his redheaded incentive rocked their
child to sleep and waited impatiently for him inside their house, just as eager
for his touch as he was for hers.
Although
Festus had offered to accompany them home from Dodge, he had politely refused
the deputy’s good intentions, a wise decision, because the way Kitty greeted
him at the door was a sight meant for his gaze alone. Clothed only in a flimsy bit of black lace
that revealed more than it hid, she let her eyes pierce him, draw him to her with
not even a flick of a finger. His heart
jerked against his rib cage, desire he had only partly managed to suppress in
Doc’s office surging through him and settling with an ache at the pit of his
belly.
“Kathleen,”
he breathed, stepping toward her and letting his hands slide up her arms, his
fingers almost trembling with the need to touch her. It had been much too long.
Trying to
heed the physician’s instructions, he had clamped down on the urge to sweep her
into his embrace and take her right there, fast and hard – even though Kitty’s
steamy expression told him that would have been just fine with her. Instead, he bent to kiss her softly, his
tongue sliding over her lips and into her mouth with measured tenderness. His hands pressed against her back, pulling
her so that their bodies just grazed, the lace over her breasts brushing his
shirt. But, in spite of his efforts, his
arousal surged between them, pushing and pulsing against the slight roundness
of her stomach.
“You sure
are taking your time, Cowboy,” she scolded gently, her own trembling fingers
reaching up to unbutton his shirt and push inside, dancing over his bare chest.
“You keep
doing that, I won’t be for long,” he admitted, swallowing a gasp as she grazed
a flat nipple.
“Good.”
Her hands
made quick work of removing his shirt, then reached
lower, a heated smile lifting her mouth as she pressed into the insistent ridge
that strained against the material of his trousers. With a joint effort, they shucked the rest of
his clothes, and soon he stood before her, his strong body bare except for the
bandage Doc had wrapped around his arm.
She looked him up and down, her eyes sparkling, their blatant admiration
drawing a rare blush to his cheeks.
“My, my,”
she murmured, her gaze lingering at his groin.
His cheeks flushed deeper crimson.
He didn’t
know how he was going to keep control much longer. With a single touch of his hand, he swept the
bit of lace from her, bending his head to take the tip of a breast into his
mouth, to suckle gently, to caress.
Gasping,
she took his hand, urging him toward the bed.
“No more taking your time.”
Thank
God.
But he
tried anyway, still giving good faith effort to follow Doc’s instructions. It sure as hell wasn’t easy, though, not with
her hands shoving him onto the mattress and roaming boldly over his body,
rubbing and scratching, and squeezing, bringing him to the point of surrender
then easing him back down.
His entire
body was throbbing as he turned onto his side and nestled against her, then pressed forward almost hesitantly, aching for her,
yearning to surge ahead and be surrounded by her. She reached between them, her fingers
brushing over the satin-steel flesh, tearing the moan from his throat. With one leg wrapped over his hips, she guided
him so that he was in position. Her own
gasp followed his as he slid forward then paused to let her accommodate
him.
“You don’t
have to be so careful, Matt,” she assured him breathlessly.
Clenching
his jaw, he reminded, “But Doc said – “
“Okay, look,
Doc is about the last person I want to be talking about right now.”
He
smirked. “Don’t want to get fussed at
tomorrow.”
“Is that
worse than being fussed at tonight?”
He
considered it for a moment until she let her body open for him, and he felt himself
slide deeper into that delicious, overwhelming heat. “Oh, God,” he groaned.
“You still
worried about Doc?”
“Doc who?”
“Okay,
then, Cowboy, why don’t you remind me why I married you?”
“I thought
it was because you loved me.”
“Oh, yeah. That, too,” she teased, then gasped as he
moved again, letting his thickness slowly stretch her. “Oh, yeah,” she groaned, not teasing at all
anymore.
Sensation
erupted through him, and he squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth,
struggling not to surrender to the almost overwhelming need to move.
“Matt?”
Opening his
eyes, he saw Kitty watching him, concern darkening her lovely features. “You okay?”
If he
weren’t working so hard not to lose control right then, he would have laughed
ironically. He certainly was okay – more
than okay. “I’m fine, Kitty,” he assured
her hoarsely, then admitted, “Just trying to keep this
from being over in about a minute and a half.”
Her concern
curved into a grin. “I have faith in
you, Cowboy.” Slowly, she pulled back
until he slid from her body, a move that did little to help his situation.
“Kitty,” he
groaned.
Nudging him
onto his back, she straddled his hips, her slender fingers curving around him
and drawing him back to her.
“I’m ready,
Matt,” she breathed. “Please don’t make
me wait any longer.” Her hands braced on
his chest as she let her body sink onto him.
No
waiting? He could certainly accommodate
that request. Released by her appeal not
to hold back, he joined them completely, grunting as she closed tightly around
him. All thought of nice and easy melted
as they strained against each other, caught up in an irreversible plunge toward
the explosive culmination of their conflagration. Teeth gritted, he shook with the desperate
effort to wait for her, grunting in relief when her wild contractions finally
gripped him. His body let go then. The powerful surges pulled him deep into her
over and over, until the final waves ripped the last of his energy from him,
and he collapsed onto the bed as she collapsed into him.
XXXX
He lay in
her arms, his head pillowed on her breasts, completely content as only her
embrace allowed him to be. Her fingers
had moved from his lower body to play through his hair, tugging gently at the
wild curls.
After a few
more minutes, he heard Kitty shift in the bed.
“Matt?”
His chest
rose only enough to draw in a quick breath for his response. “Hmm?”
“What’s
“What?”
“
A frown of
consternation furrowed his brow. “Kitty,
you’re asking about
She grinned
playfully. “Well, you’ve stimulated my –
interest.”
“Your interest, huh?”
“Oh
yes.” But her light tone melted into
seriousness. “Really,
Matt.”
He sighed,
contemplating how to answer. In truth,
he had only visited the nation’s capital a few times himself. Even though it was the seat of government, it
had the reputation of being muddy and coarse.
In the summer it was so stifling and riddled with Yellow Fever that only
the poorest or most foolish of citizens remained.
“I guess it
has its good points and bad points.” He
looked down, his heart still uncertain about what all this meant for her. “Kitty, are you sure about this? Dodge has been your home for so long – “
Her fingers
caressed his cheek, the warmth of her touch sinking into his skin. “I told you, home is where the heart is. And you and Sam are my heart, Cowboy.” Her hand dropped to her stomach. “And this little one.”
He swallowed, his jaw hard with the effort to control his
emotions. “I love you, Kathleen Dillon,”
he whispered, pulling her to him again, holding her tightly against his body,
warm secure in his embrace.
“I love
you,” she returned, her voice trembling.
They lay
still for a long moment, their hearts beating almost in unison, the aching void
of the months apart now filled with that love.
Finally, he felt her body tense slightly as she braced to sit beside
him. That usually meant she wanted to
talk, and he prepared himself for just about anything.
Sure enough,
after a few seconds, she asked, “Matt?”
“Mmm?”
“What
really happened to Newly’s jaw?”
Damn.
He flinched
and swallowed hard before he sucked in a deeper breath. Slowly, his eyes opened and he stared up at
the ceiling for several long beats.
Newly’s
jaw? He fell off his horse. He got into a fight with a renegade
Indian. He tried to kiss a saloon girl
in Hays.
“I hit
him,” he admitted quietly, an uneasy, rueful smile curving his lips.
Shocked
into sitting all the way, she stared down at him, obviously not expecting that
answer. “You hit him?”
He nodded
regretfully.
“Why, what
on earth for?”
Matt
figured Kitty was wondering what unforeseeable event prompted him to haul off
and slug his deputy. She knew the young
man practically idolized Matt, a fact she sometimes liked to tease him about,
much to his chagrin.
“Well,” he
said, putting on his best marshal’s tone, “you know Newly’s
been askin’ for it, loud and rowdy. I finally just got tired of all his carrying
on.”
“Matt,” she
scolded, not letting him divert her.
He sighed,
and worked his jaw a second or two before he finally spoke. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, but figured his
eyes gave away enough to let her know it was more than just a random accident.
Softening
her voice, she asked, “What happened?”
His lips
pressed together tightly, then he mumbled, “He tried to wake me up and – “
Her eyes
widened in instant understanding. “Oh,
Matt,” she breathed, lying back down to rest her head on his shoulder.
Both
relieved and regretful, he drew her close, knowing that their intimacy for the
past twenty years had given her plenty of occasions to witness the nightmares
he fought. He couldn’t even begin to
describe how soothing and secure her arms felt once he had broken away from the
horrible, vivid dreams. Sometimes he
felt like sharing them with her; other times, he just lay in her arms until his
heart rate slowed enough to return to sleep.
And yet other times he allowed his thoughts to be diverted by her lips
and fingers, and they ended up loving the harsh memories away.
“Which one
was it this time?”
He had told
her enough in the past so that she knew that his worst dreams were filled with
those torturous seconds before he was forced to kill a man in a gunfight. In a moment of weakness, he had admitted to
her that after he killed his first man in a gunfight as Adam Kimbro’s deputy, he had been physically ill. He learned quickly that that was part of the
job, but it didn’t make the battle any less sickening to him. But she also knew that he dreamed about her.
He had confessed to it after Bonner, but later she told him that she had
known years before, when he called out her name in the middle of the night,
bolt upright in the bed and wide-eyed, sweat dripping off him, yelling for the
unseen villain to spare her, to take him instead.
“Matt?”
But he
shook his head, unable to share the torturous vision of her being ripped from
him in the midst of heated lovemaking by a gunman’s bullet. “Not yet, Kitty. Not yet.”
“It’s okay, Cowboy,” she assured him, letting her hand rub
across his bare chest. “You don’t have
to tell me, yet – or ever. Just know
that I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
I’ll always
be here. Thank God he could really
believe that, now. He took a quick
breath, struggling for control.
“I love
you, Kitty,” he told her again, knowing he hadn’t said it often enough over the
years. “I want you to be happy,
now. I want this to be what you want.”
“It’s what
I want, Matt.” Her eyes welled with
tears, and he brushed the moisture with a thumb.
“I can’t
make up for twenty years. I won’t
try. I had made that commitment a long
time ago, and I’m proud of what I’ve done.
But it’s time now for another commitment.” A gentle smile lifted his expression. “You’ve been very patient with me, Miss
Russell,” he teased.
“I’ll say,”
she mumbled through her tears.
“I figure
that patience ought to be rewarded.”
Tears gave
way to seduction. “Really? And just how do you plan on rewarding me,
Marshal Dillon?”
“Slowly,”
he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. “Very, very slowly.”
His mouth
closed on hers, the heat re-igniting the fire inside him, but this time his
body was ready for the nice and easy, ready for the slow burn. Even though pain shot through his wounded arm
as he braced on his elbows, he held the position that let him take things
gradually, teasing her, taunting her.
“Matt,
please,” she moaned, her fingernails clawing at his broad back. He wondered vaguely where they had put Doc’s
salve.
“Easy, Red,”
he soothed. “This time I’m following
orders. This time, you’ll just have to
wait.”
Her hips
arched upward, but he reached down and held her steady with one hand, still
supporting his weight with the other. He
let his teeth nibble at her smooth jaw, slipping down her neck and across her
breasts, pressing hot kisses onto the freckles she despised, but he
adored. His lips burned as they glided
over the generous swells.
Despite his
earlier release, he felt his body fighting him, challenging the patience he had
committed to. Pushing up with his arms,
he gritted his teeth to slow the rush of urgency. As gradually as he could, he joined them
again, jaw muscles working furiously to hold back the need to drive deep with a
single thrust.
“Matt!” His
name was wrenched from her throat in an agonized plea.
With a
gasp, he felt her legs squeeze around his back and her body thrust up,
completing their joining with a swift jerk that almost sent him over the
edge. He groaned her name, sweat
trailing down his face and chest with the effort to stem the imminent
flood. It wouldn’t be long now. He knew he couldn’t resist the overwhelming
pull. With just a few more –
“Kitty? Matt? You there?”
Something
deep in his brain registered the call from outside, but he couldn’t acknowledge
it, had no strength to stop his body from its dedicated course.
Fortunately
– or unfortunately – Kitty was able to respond.
“Damn it!” She swore as she
pulled away from him.
Trembling
with the abrupt and painful interruption, he took in gasping breaths, not
completely sure he could control the crushing need that gripped him. “Oh, God,” he moaned miserably.
“Who the
hell – “she snapped, scrambling off the bed.
“Somebody’s gonna pay for this.”
“It’s Doc!”
came another call, and even through his desire the marshal realized that the
older man was announcing his presence from a fair distance, no doubt giving
them time to make themselves presentable on the chance they weren’t
already. Doc knew them well.
“Doc? What is he doing here?” Kitty asked as she
grabbed a robe and shoved her arms into the sleeves. He figured she didn’t really need an answer –
or hoped she didn’t, since he wasn’t sure he was capable of coherent speech
just yet. “Tomorrow. I invited him to dinner tomorrow.” Then she paused
and looked back at him, suddenly unsure.
“Didn’t I?”
Pressed to
respond, he managed a nod, even though he really didn’t remember when she had
invited Doc to dinner. He’d had other
things on his mind.
“I thought
so,” she said with a satisfied nod. “Not
that I don’t want to see him, but his timing stinks.”
Still
aching from the sudden disruption, Matt couldn’t help but agree.
“Kitty! Matt!” Doc called again loudly. “Hello the house!”
Her hand on
the doorknob, Kitty turned to Matt and smirked.
“This is familiar.”
“Too
familiar,” he grunted.
“Come on
out,” she told him, then, getting a good look at him, winced and added, “when
you can.”
As the door
closed behind her, Matt sat on the side of the bed, steadying his
breathing. If Doc had driven out from
town, he would expect to visit a while at the least. A resigned sigh lifted his chest, and, with
concerted effort, he tugged on his pants and shirt, letting the tails hang down
over his waist, satisfied with remaining barefoot and vest-less. He found Doc and Kitty sitting at the table,
two cups of coffee in front of them. The
physician looked up when Matt appeared from the bedroom, his eyes squinting as he
studied the tall lawman.
“Doc,” Matt
greeted, not bothering too much to hide his irritation.
The
grayish-white head cocked wryly. “Well,
Matt. Kitty said you might be a
while. Said you were
still in some discomfort.”
Matt shot
an alarmed look toward his wife.
“From your arm,” she emphasized pointedly.
“Oh. Uh, yeah. That’s right.”
“Good thing
I came by then.”
“Yeah,” he growled, the sarcasm heavy in his voice.
But Doc
seemed oblivious to his annoyance. “I
actually came to check on Kitty.”
“I’m fine,
Doc,” Kitty declared.
“Me, too,”
Matt offered quickly – a little too quickly, opening the outside door in eager
encouragement. “Well, guess that’s what
you needed to know, huh? So, see you
tomorrow for supper.”
“Matt!”
Kitty scolded.
Doc’s eyes
widened. “You just said the arm was
giving you trouble,” he protested, then frowned. “I told you you
weren’t just ‘winged’. You need to be in
bed.”
“Which is
exactly where I was,” Matt muttered
ruefully.
“Were
you? Well, good,
good.” Chuckling, he said, “I was afraid
maybe you and Kitty – “ But he stopped abruptly, glancing
at Kitty’s robe and then back to Matt’s bedraggled appearance. After a moment, he shook his head in
defeat. “Well, I should have known. I gave you three hours, for Pete’s sake. What have you been doing with it?” He held up a hand. “Nevermind. I don’t want to know.”
Matt felt
his own face tighten in exasperation.
“Doc, what a man and woman do in their own home – “
“Better your home,” he quipped, “than my office.”
Jaw cocked,
Matt asked curtly, “Was there something you needed besides messing up my
afternoon?”
“Matt – “ Kitty laid a hand on his arm.
But Doc
didn’t snap back. Instead, he smiled at
them, his countenance softening. “Yeah,
Matt, there was. Sit down here with
Kitty.” He gestured at the table.
Immediately
reading the change in Doc’s tone, the marshal lowered his long frame into the
chair, working to keep the grimace from his face as pain sliced through his
wounded arm. Now that he wasn’t
distracted by Kitty, the damn thing really was bothering him. One glimpse of the older man’s lifted brow
let him know he hadn’t quite succeeded in masking the discomfort.
“What can
we do for you, Doc?” he asked sincerely, all bantering and irritation aside.
The doctor
reached out with both hands, one resting on Kitty’s arm, the other on Matt’s. Surprised, the lawman exchanged glances with
his wife, who gave him a bemused smile.
“I’ve want
you to take that offer, Matt. I want you
to take it and get away from a job that makes you risk your life every single
day and makes those who love you risk their hearts.”
It wasn’t
at all what Matt had expected his old friend to say, and he found himself at a
complete loss for words. He suspected
his mouth probably hung open in shock, but he couldn’t register enough focus on
that to close it. Instead, he stared at
the physician and waited for him to continue.
“You owe it
to Kitty and your children, but you also owe it to yourself. My God, Matt, how many bullets have I dug out
of you over twenty-one years? How many
more has someone else dug out when I wasn’t around? There’s only so much a man should be expected
to give. You’ve given enough, Matt. Take this chance.”
“Doc – “ he began, but
His pale
eyes regarded them both with a depth of love that drew a lump to Matt’s
throat. “You two are like my own. More like you really are my own. I’ve watched you
for a long time now. You were just raw
kids at first. Two young people so full
of energy and hope and dreams – and so full of each other that you couldn’t see
straight.”
Matt opened
his mouth to dispute the observations.
He and Kitty had been discreet back then, hadn’t they? But Doc held up a staying hand.
“You were
careful, Matt, I know. But you can’t
hide that kind of love.”
The marshal
felt his face warm.
“I hate to
burst your bubble, but everybody knew it.”
Kitty
erupted in a hearty laugh. “I don’t
guess I really figured we fooled anybody.”
“Not with
all that eyeballin’,” Doc said, chuckling. “Anyway, like I was saying, I’ve watched you
two for a long time. There have been
lots of good times. There have been some
tough times, too.”
Matt
swallowed, his mind bringing up unbidden memories of the worst of those tough
times.
“But I
think the best of times are before you now.
Go after them, Matt.”
Reluctantly,
the marshal leaned back in the chair and smiled sadly at his very dear
friend. “We are going, Doc. Kitty wants
me to take the job, so – so we’re going.”
The
physician smiled and nodded, but his eyes were melancholy. “You’d better not even think about keeping
those grandchildren to yourselves. I’ll
be comin’ out from time to time to make sure you’re spoilin’ ‘em properly.”
“Oh, Doc,”
Kitty breathed, catching his hand in both of hers and kissing him on the
cheek. In seconds, they were clinging to
each other, her tears falling freely, his shedding carefully. Matt stood awkwardly, jaw clenched with the
effort not to join them.
“Too bad
that training center’s not in Dodge,” Kitty choked out between sobs. “That would be – just about perfect.”
“Just
about,” Doc agreed, patting her on the back.
Matt
watched them, the ubiquitous guilt pounding him again,
guilt over all Kitty had sacrificed for so long, over what he had asked of her
these twenty years. Would she be happy
in
But would
she be happy?
A strange
sensation played in his chest, tickling to life the beginnings of an idea.
Swiping at
his nose noisily, Doc turned red eyes on Matt.
“Well, that’s all I came to say.
Sorry if my – timing – was off.”
He swung a hand toward the marshal.
“At least let me re-dress that arm before I leave.”
“It’s all
right, Doc,” Matt started to protest.
After all, he had just bound the wound that morning. But a quick glance revealed a tell-tale fresh
splotch of red staining the sleeve of his new shirt. Acquiescing to the physician’s instructions
while Kitty wiped her eyes, Matt stripped to the waist and settled back into a
straight chair.
Clucking
his tongue, Doc set about checking the torn flesh and muscle. Matt occasionally flinched as he hit a
particularly tender spot. “How’d you get
this thing so unraveled?” the doctor complained, the old grouch in his
tone. “Looks like you’ve been wrestling
a wildc – “ He stopped and cocked an eyebrow
toward Kitty, then rolled his eyes and grunted.
“How is
he?” Kitty asked smoothly, face still splotched from crying.
“Well, he’s
just as stubborn as ever,” Doc answered, then fixed her with a point
glare. “And it seems no one in this
house understands the concept of ‘rest’.”
But she
just grinned back unapologetically.
With a
final tie on the new bandage, Doc replaced his instruments and turned toward
the door. “I’ll head back to town. I’ll re-dress it again tomorrow.” Throwing another accusatory glance at them
both, he admonished, “Try not to destroy it completely between now and then.”
“No
promises,” Kitty smirked.
Doc
grunted. “I’ll be back for dinner
tomorrow, and I don’t expect to be delayed because you two can’t keep your
hands off each other.”
Grinning,
and over any embarrassment, Matt called after him. “See you at five, Doc. And Doc?”
“Thanks.”
His face
kind and soft, their dear, old friend gave them his trademark blink and
closed-mouth smile that conveyed a much deeper message than just goodbye.
When they
were alone again, Matt laid his hands on Kitty’s shoulders. “Did you mean that, Kitty?” he asked softly.
“Mean
what?”
“That you’d rather stay here.”
“What are
you talking about?”
“You told
Doc it would be almost perfect if the training center was in Dodge.”
Leaning
into him, her hand pressing against his chest, she shook her head. “I was just trying to make Doc feel better. I’ve already told you, home is where – “
“I
know.” But would she be happy?
Glancing at
the mantle clock, he realized Sam would most certainly be waking soon. Not much time. “Let’s talk about it later,” he suggested,
gathering Kitty in his arms. “Now, where
were we?”
“Well,
let’s see” she breathed, sliding her hands up under his shirt to run her nails
over his broad back. “I seem to recall
something about neglect and trying to make up for it.”
Chills ran
over his flesh in anticipation. “Ah.”
“Matt?” One hand slipped lower, behind the waistband
of his trousers to rest against a firm hip.
“Hmm?” he
asked absently,
“I’m
feeling neglected again.”
His lips
brushed her ear, blowing gently across it.
“Really?”
“Umm hmm.”
“Well,” he
murmured, sweeping her into his arms and smiling at the sheer delight on her
face. “We can’t have you feeling neglected.
We’ll just have to see what we can do about that.”
And he was
true to his word. By the time Sam
awakened from his nap, Matt didn’t figure Kitty could have named one tiny spot
on her body that was the least bit neglected.
Chapter Twenty: He Who Hesitates
POV: Matt
Spoilers:
“Hostage!”
Rating:
PG-13 (Teen)
Disclaimer:
The original GS characters aren’t mine, of course, but I created Sam. (Well, Matt and Kitty created him in my
story.)
XXXX
Matt Dillon
watched as his wife stared glumly from the window of their hotel room out
across the muddy streets of
“Oh,
Kitty,” he breathed. “I am so sorry.”
“What?” She turned from the window, a sad,
questioning smile on her face.
“I said
that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bringing
you here. I’m sorry for making you leave
Dodge. I just wanted you to be happy –
and safe. I thought – “
Her smile
grew more knowing. “But I’m not, am
I? It’s just as dangerous in
His gut
tightened at her words. “Kitty, what can
I do to – “
But before
he could finish, the door of their room burst open, a sudden swirl of dust and
dirt that should not have been there surrounding the weather-beaten forms of
Jude and Virgil Bonner. Kitty screamed,
falling back against the wall.
“How the
hell can you be here?” Matt yelled, hand already on his gun, trying frantically
to drag the iron up to fire at the vicious dog soldiers, but he couldn’t move
his right arm, couldn’t flex his fingers at all. He looked down. The ugly scar that slashed across his forearm
glared at him, angry and red, as if the injury were newly made. Groaning, he tried to throw himself toward
them, but pain exploded in his bad knee, dropping him to the floor.
The
murderous brothers lunged forward, malevolent sneers on their faces, ignoring
Matt entirely and focusing on Kitty. She
called out his name, pleaded for him to help her. Grimacing fiercely against the searing pain,
he tried to claw across the floor, yelling out desperately as they dragged her
down and ravaged her again.
“Let her
go, you bastards!”
But they
continued, teeth bared in evil glee as they violated
her right in front of him, punching and biting and tearing, her swollen
stomach, ripe with his child, rippling as they brutalized the baby and
her. Amid the horror, Kitty’s eyes found
his, begged him to save her, but he could only watch helplessly, his heart torn
from his chest in sheer anguish.
“Kitty! I’m sorry!
Oh, God! I’m sorry!”
“Matt!” she
called out frantically.
“I’m
sorry!”
“Matt!”
“I’m
sorry!”
“Matt!”
His eyes
flew open, staring into the blackness of the room, the sounds of her screams
still echoing in his ears. “Kitty!” he
choked.
“I’m here,
Matt,” came the answer, calm and soothing, not frantic
or desperate at all.
Her hands
caressed his shoulders and neck, reaching up to run gently across his
face. Slowly, he became aware that he
sat in their bed, trembling and gasping for breath, the covers wrapped around his
legs, his right knee throbbing, his union suit drenched with sweat.
Thank God.
In the dim
light provided by the approaching dawn, he could see her face, unmarred and
lovely as always. Unable to keep himself
from the action, he twisted and pulled her to him. She let him hold her as long as he needed to,
let him press kisses along her jaw and over her lips, let him bend to lay his
ear over her heart, to convince himself she was alive and well, let him spread
his hand over the slight swell of her stomach.
Finally, the keen pain from the nightmare began to dull, leaving only a
deep ache in his chest. As his embrace
loosened, she sat back and looked at him.
“You okay?”
she asked quietly, her palm cradling his cheek, her thumb brushing his lips.
He managed
a nod, flexing the fingers of his right hand, relieved to find that they worked
just fine.
“That was a
good one, huh?”
Another nod, curt and silent.
“Bonner?”
she guessed.
His face
darkened as it always did with the vile name.
He wanted to tell her she never had to say that name again, wanted to
make it so she didn’t even need to think it.
She caught
his face in both her hands, turned it to look directly at her. “Listen to me, Matt Dillon. It was just a dream. What happened then is long behind us. Bonner is dead. He can’t hurt me – us – anymore.”
There’s
where she was wrong, though. Jude Bonner
hurt Matt Dillon every time he thought about not only his miserable failure to
protect Kitty, but also his role in causing the attack in the first place. And no assurances from his wife could ever
fully absolve him of the guilt he would take to his grave.
But it
wouldn’t do her any good to know that, so he nodded again and forced a weak
smile to his lips. “Yeah,” he breathed,
lifting a shaking hand to wipe the perspiration from his eyes.
“I mean it,
Matt.” Her eyes held his with intensity,
and he was again struck by the power of her love for him.
“I know,”
he whispered. “I’m okay.”
Although
her expression remained doubtful, she let him by with the ruse. “It’s way too early to be awake,” she noted,
even though her face was becoming more visible with the sunrise. “Is there something I can do to – help you go
back to sleep?”
Her hands
brushed over his chest; her lips followed.
Although still shaken, he couldn’t refuse such an offer and followed her
down, her arms cradling him first with comfort, then with a passion that
eventually wiped out the torturous thoughts – at least for the rest of the
night.
XXXX
Morning
brought cleansing freshness to the air, drifting across his face and stirring
his hair until he woke. A leisurely
glance out the window drew a quick double-take as he realized the sun had risen
hours before, and there he was sleeping half the day away. It was the first time in months he had
awakened after dawn.
Throwing
his legs over the side of the bed, he winced at the pain that clenched his
knee, and pushed the covers from his bare body, remembering that Kitty had
disposed of his union suit in the midst of their passion. His first item for the day was to get into
town and finish the paperwork that would complete Newly’s
appointment. The next item – He laughed
ironically. His next item was to find a
new job.
He pushed
up from the bed, irritated with the stiff knee, but pleased that there was only
a twinge of pain in his bicep now. It
had been one week since Butcher Cole tried to kill him, one week since his
decision to resign became common knowledge, and one week since he had sent a
personal letter – not a telegram – to the Attorney General refusing the offer.
One week
with no answer to that letter. One week
to ponder over what exactly he was going to do.
One week of wondering how to tell Kitty that he was unemployed. As much as she had always wanted him to give
up the badge, he figured she might not be so keen on having a loafer of a
husband
He smiled
at the thought, knowing she’d rather have him loafing than serving as target
practice for every outlaw that came around.
He didn’t regret the decision.
Dreams like the one that had haunted him a few hours before had
convinced him it was the right decision.
In fact, there had been few things in his life Matt Dillon
regretted. Hadn’t he told Newly O’Brien
only a week before that if a man lived by regrets, he wouldn’t ever risk
anything?
Still,
there was one regret.
One overwhelming regret.
He
regretted
And he was damned if he was going to make the same mistake again. He would just do what he’d planned in the
first place and get that ranch Kitty never thought he’d get. Surely she would be happy about that, after
all those years of wanting him to give up the badge. But that wasn’t it. The fact that he’d made the decision without
her was the point – and a point of contention it would most certainly be. Perhaps that was why he had put off telling
her.
The
delighted giggles of his son broke through the musings and enticed a smile to
his lips. Beyond the close door of the
bedroom, muted clangs of pots and pans danced with the uplifted, happy voices
of his family. Chest rising in
satisfaction, he drew on his trousers, not worrying about the sweat-stained
union suit that lay crumpled in the corner.
Shrugging into a worn, blue shirt, he stepped into the warmth of the
next room, smiling as he saw Sam, now much more secure with his walking talent,
toddling as quickly as his legs could carry him from chair to table to chair to
china cabinet and back, Kitty’s encouragement following him with each leg of his
journey.
“I think
he’s ready for the hundred yard dash at the spring fair,” Matt declared.
He was
rewarded with a sudden smile from his wife, who abandoned her cooking to greet
him with a deep, loving kiss. “Morning,
Cowboy,” she murmured against his lips.
His answer
was simply to kiss her back.
“Papa! Cheepyhed!”
Matt
laughed and swung the child up into his arms, enjoying the belly laugh that
action provoked. “Yes, your Papa’s a
sleepyhead, Sam. Why did you let Mama
keep me up so late last night?”
But the
child wasn’t paying any attention anymore.
Instead, he squirmed in his father’s strong arms, wanting to resume his
game with the furniture. Obligingly,
Matt bent to return him to the floor, barely letting him go before the boy was
off and running.
“Are you sorry that Mama kept you up so late
last night?” Kitty asked, eyebrow arched.
“Did I say
I was sorry?”
“Well – “
His arms
slid around her, tugged her against him.
Her hands rubbed down his back and over his hips. He felt her linger at his rear, then grinned
as she pulled back and looked up at him in surprise.
“Missing
something?” she asked slyly.
“My union
suit wasn’t exactly clean,” he explained, trying to give her that innocent look
that very rarely worked.
“Oh. And you don’t have any other underwear?”
“Well, if
you really want me to – “
“No!” she
said, a little too quickly, then smiled
seductively. “Not at
all. This suits me just
fine.” She pinched him.
“Ouch!” he
protested.
“Less in
the way,” she noted, her hands moving from back to front, pressing against the
sensitive area that was now protected by only a single layer of clothing.
“Kitty,
you’d better not start something unless you are prepared to finish it.”
“Ooo. Mighty bold
words, Marshal. What makes you think I can’t finish it?”
Twenty
years of experience gave him the instant answer, and he smiled. “Absolutely nothing.”
As her
fingers played over the tightening material, he caught his breath, wondering if
he was going to accomplish anything at all that day besides taking her back to
bed. He decided that wasn’t such a bad
goal.
“You are a
wicked one, Kathleen Dillon.”
“And?”
“And I’m
awful glad about that.” He bent to press his mouth to hers, pulling her against
him. But the conscience that had nagged
at him all week prodded once more, and he decided he had been a coward long
enough. Reluctantly, he lifted his lips
from hers. “Kitty, there’s something I
need to tell you.”
Her arms
tightened around his neck, and she pressed her breasts into him. “Tell me later,” she murmured, reaching up on
tiptoes so that her mouth met his again.
For just a
moment, he allowed himself to surrender to her touch, to her heat, and to her
taste. But she quickly overwhelmed him,
shattering his resolve. Clutching her to
him, he lifted her from the ground so that her body rested completely against
his, groaning as her weight pushed heavily into his swollen need.
“Later,” he
gasped, his surrender now unconditional.
“Much later,” Kitty amended, hanging on.
A sudden
jingle of horses and wagons from outside shattered their negotiations, the
sound close enough to mean they were coming to their house and not just passing
by. Matt grunted in irritation, his hope
for a little after-breakfast loving scattering with the growing noise.
“For
Heaven’s sake,” Kitty breathed, her own frustration
audible.
Matt’s mind
conjured up a stronger comment, but he kept it to himself, mindful of Sam
playing around them. Sighing, he stepped
to the window and eased the curtain aside to look out. To his astonishment, he saw that a large
group of at least two dozen citizens was gathered in his front yard, including
some of the most prominent: Doc Adams, Bodkin from the bank, Dobie from the
hotel, Jonas from the general store, Percy Crump, Moss Grimmick,
Hannah, Burke, even sour old Edsel
Pry.
“Who is
it?” Kitty asked, rescuing their breakfast before it
burned.
“Half of
Dodge,” he mused.
“What?” She put the pan down again and hurried over
to him. “My goodness!” she exclaimed at
the sight.
“Yeah.” Realizing abruptly that he was in his bare
feet, he said, “Can you meet them while I get on my boots?”
“Just your
boots?” she teased, but he just smirked at her.
A few
seconds later, Matt sat on the side of their bed, tugging his left boot on,
stomping firmly on the floor to shove his foot all the way in. Beyond the bedroom door Kitty greeted their
unexpected visitors.
“Well,
hello,” he heard her say, surprise clear in her tone.
The
cultured voice of Mr. Bodkin, the bank owner, answered. “Miss – I mean, Mrs. Dillon,” Bodkin greeted.
“Mister
Bodkin,” she returned courteously, but Matt sensed the underlying curiosity.
“Is the
Marshal here, as well?” Bodkin asked, the frown
evident even through his tone.
“He is, but
he’s – uh – “
“If he’s
still recovering from his wound, I understand, but we had an issue we wished to
discuss with him. With
both of you.”
“Well,”
Kitty allowed, “he is recovering.”
A chuckle
shook Matt’s shoulders. He was
recovering, all right, but not necessarily from his wound. Knowing he still looked suspiciously
disheveled, the marshal decided he’d better save Kitty the trouble of making up
something ridiculous. Running a hand
through his uncooperative waves, he emerged from the bedroom to see the
prominent citizens gathered in his parlor, their eyes widening at his
entrance.
Hannah’s knowing smirk brought a flush to his cheeks.
“Sorry to – interrupt, Marshal,” she said, not really sounding sorry at
all.
“Hannah.” He quickly pulled his gaze from her. “Mister Bodkin,” he greeted as casually as he
could, as if they were at the bank.
“Mister Dobie. Mister Jonas.”
He smiled
slightly as he saw Festus crouched in the corner, helping Sam stack
blocks. It was quite possible that Sam
recognized the colorful ABCs that decorated them better than his overgrown
playmate.
“What can I
do for you?” he asked, more than a little wary about their purpose. The last time half the town had shown up at
his door they had thrown Kitty and him a belated shivery – and he had ended up
half frozen in Silver Creek, wearing only his trousers. Of course, when he finally managed to
shiver his way back home, Kitty had warmed him up right fast –
Swallowing,
he forced his thoughts back to the present, his body still too sensitive from
her earlier touch to risk tempting it with heated memories.
Clearing
his throat, Mr. Dobie nodded toward him.
“Marshal, we’re terribly sorry to rouse you from your sick bed. I had thought your wound was not so dire as
to keep you invalided for – “
“No,
no. I’m fine. Just winged.”
Doc grunted
loudly, and Matt swung a glare at him, but the physician merely returned the
glare, plainly refusing to take back his grunt.
Allowing
Dobie
looked mildly scandalized. “Marshal, I
assure you, we aren’t – “
“He’s
joking, for land’s sakes,” Hannah interrupted, rolling her eyes.
Resuming
his duty as group spokesman, Bodkin stepped forward. “I’ll get right to the point.”
Matt almost
commented that it was too late for that.
“Marshal,
we have been considering the issue of your reassignment to
That didn’t
really surprise him. Even though he had
no ego to feed – not much of one, anyway – he thought perhaps there would be
some distress on the part of the citizens, if only because it meant a change,
and most people feared change. He
mentally kicked himself for not going ahead and telling Kitty he had turned
down the job, and wondered if he could get her alone for just a minute before
the news came out in front of everyone.
“Mister Bodkin, that’s an issue that involves the War Department, not –
“
Festus
stood and clanged forward a step.
“Fiddle, Matthew. We ain’t grudgin’ ya’, that’s fer shore. Ain’t one leddle biddie person in Dodge
what’d say you didn’t deserve it ten times over long ago. ‘Sides, we figger
it’s ‘bout time you an’ Miss Kitty – well, it’s only right you an’ her finally
– “ The deputy stumbled over his words a bit. “Well, anyway, we figger
it’s only right, and we figger Newly’ll do a rite fine job. ‘Course we all know there ain’t
never gonna be another Matthew Dillon – “
A flush of
consternation and embarrassment colored Matt’s face. “Festus – “ he began,
shaking his head.
“Festus’s speakin’ the truth, Marshal,” Hannah interrupted, then threw an irritated glare at the deputy. “In his own way.”
Stepping in
to reassert his leadership, Bodkin interrupted.
“What we are trying to say, Marshal, is that you are a valued citizen of
Matt felt
the flush deepen. “Mister Bodkin,
really, I don’t – “
“And,
although we despair over seeing you move on, we cannot deny that you are
overwhelmingly deserving of it.”
Completely
uncomfortable now, Matt resigned himself to the moment and braced to get
through it. From the corner of his eye,
he saw Kitty smiling with both pride and amusement.
Bodkin
cleared his throat importantly and held out an envelope. “Therefore, we, as citizens of
Taking the
bulging paper, Matt nodded, hoping that his expression could relay his feelings
better than his words would. “I thank
you, Mister Bodkin, and everybody. I’m –
we’re – truly grateful.” He swallowed.
“Twenty years – more, really – is a long time, especially in the life of
a lawman. And Dodge – you people – you
friends – have meant a great deal to me – and to Kitty.”
He paused
briefly, realizing that he had probably just confirmed the years of speculation
about the true nature of his relationship with Kitty since the beginning. Catching another glimpse of Sam playing
happily with Festus, he decided that was a moot point.
“But
there’s no need to give me anything. It
was my job.”
Mister
Dobie leaned in, his hound dog face sincere.
Matt smiled kindly, having always appreciated what the hotel owner did
for him after Kitty left. “Maybe no need
for you, Marshal, but there is need for us.”
“Well, I
thank you,” Matt told them simply.
“Open it!”
Hannah said.
Nodding
again in gratitude, Matt slid a long finger down the sealed edge. Noting that there were several thickly folded
sheets of paper stuffed inside of what he suspected was some sort of
proclamation, perhaps the ubiquitous key to the city, he pulled them out.
“What – “ he began, scanning the contents quickly
“I’m not
sure what kind of pension a U.S. Marshal draws,” Bodkin said. “Certainly not enough to merit the risks you
have taken for us through the years.”
“We’ll be
fine,” Matt assured him absently, still reading.
But Bodkin
continued. “There’s no telling how many
bank robberies you either stopped or recovered money from these past twenty
years.”
“What does
that have to do with – “
He
interrupted as if Matt hadn’t said anything.
“There were rewards on a number of those robberies. They add up to quite a bit of money. Money nobody ever collected.”
Matt
frowned. “The government doesn’t collect
rewards, Mister Bodkin. You know
that. And I was the government in those
situations so you don’t have to worry about – “
“But
there’s no law against a regular citizen collecting the money, is there?”
“I’m not
sure what you mean.”
“As soon as
your resignation is final, they’ll be five thousand dollars in reward monies
deposited in your name at the bank.”
The usually
unflappable marshal blinked once, then twice, vaguely aware that he stood
there, mouth open. He felt Kitty’s hand
press into his forearm, and he tried to turn to look at her, but found himself
unable to do even that. What had Bodkin
said? Five thousand
dollars? Last time he checked he
barely had five hundred in the bank.
Finding one
gasp of breath, he asked, “What? “
“There
should be more, really, but many of the rewards have been withdrawn past a
certain time limit.”
“Mister
Bodkin, I can’t accept – “
Dobie
nodded, pride touching his voice.
“That’s not all. Along with that
there’s ten thousand more that the good people of Dodge collected as a – well,
I guess as a retirement present.”
Fifteen-thousand dollars?
“And a
thank you,” Bodkin added, “for – “ He
stopped, looking directly at Matt, his expression, for once, free of the
banker’s façade, full of the warmth of genuineness. “—for so much that we don’t even know where
to begin.”
Hannah
smiled at them, her eyes proud and kind.
“Marshal, one thing I’ve discovered since I’ve been here, the people of
Dodge take care of our own – and you’re one of our own. You and Miss Kitty and your
boy.” She nodded pointedly toward
Kitty’s abdomen. “And
the one on the way.”
“Oh, Matt,”
Kitty breathed, looking up at him.
The older
woman glanced at her fellow citizens for a moment. Then, she shrugged. “I’m just gonna say it right out. We don’t want you ta’
go ta’
Matt
swallowed again, overwhelmed by the generosity and
love they were showing them. “I – I’m –
grateful,“ he managed, wincing toward Kitty, who would
be finding out with everyone else – and probably not happy about it,
either. “But, I – we – can’t accept it.”
The
disappointment on their faces struck him hard.
Through the years his relationship with the citizens of Dodge had
undergone several evolutions. In the
beginning they had been resentful of the limits the brash, young
He glanced
down at Kitty and saw the same feelings in her eyes. Patting his arm, she smiled warmly at the
group. “You are all so – so generous,”
she said, her voice sincere. “Matt and I
will miss – ”
Matt slid
his arm around Kitty’s waist, a rare show of intimacy in front of other
people. Leaning down, he whispered in
her ear. “Uh, Kitty, there’s something I
need to tell you.”
“Now?” she
whispered back.
“Yeah.”
“I think
maybe you should know, Marshal,” Hannah continued quickly, “that
there’s something else we, uh, have for you.”
“Hannah – “
“We’ve been
tryin’ ta’ figure out how ta’ keep ya’ here, but not stand
in your way for that job.”
“There’s
really no need – “
“So we had
this idea. It was Edsel’s
really.”
“You see,
I’ve already – “ He stopped, his ears running back
over what Hannah had just said. “Edsel?”
Edsel Pry
stepped from the crowd, her haughty expression somehow more subdued, although
not completely masked. “It seemed a
particular waste, Marshal, to devote all those years to training you,” she
said, “only to have you leave us.”
Surely that
wasn’t a glint of humor in those beady eyes.
Matt blinked twice to clear his own faulty vision.
“What have
you done?” he asked, suddenly more than a little uneasy.
Clearing
his throat, Doc Adams looked up at the towering lawman. “Well, Matt, we got to thinking
that maybe it didn’t matter where that training facility was located. We figured maybe – well, we all got together
and decided the city could donate those two hundred acres out toward Cimarron
that Widow Hanlin left the town in her will.”
“There’s
not much to it,” Jones acknowledged, “not very good farm land, that’s for
sure. But the
“You what?”
“You know,
of course, that the Attorney General is a friend of mine,” Mrs. Pry reminded
primly.
“Yes,
ma’am,” Matt said in a long-suffering tone.
“You’ve mentioned it before. Several times.”
“I wired
him about Mrs. Hanlin’s land.”
“Mrs. Pry,
you shouldn’t have – “
“That’s
right. And we figger
on hearing from him any day now,” Jonas volunteered.
Matt
pressed his lips together, a little irritated at their audacity, but also
touched at their generosity and sorry for their inevitable disappointment. If they even heard back from the Attorney
General at all, it would be to decline their offer. Taking a heavy breath, he regarded the people
he had known so long. “Folks, I’m –
well, I’m grateful for the thought. But
the Attorney General’s not going to change the entire plan for this program
just for – “
“Don’t you
think you should let the Attorney General make that decision, Matt?”
The marshal
jerked up his head, his height letting him see past the crowd to the door that
stood open, framing a rather stocky man, his dark hair streaked with gray, his
face rounded, his body thick with the evidence of fine
living.
He would
have greeted the visitor – if he’d been able to find even one gasp of breath to
form a word. As it was, he could only
stare, along with the rest of the crowd, as the United States Attorney General
Augustus Garland himself strode into the room.
“Good
morning, Marshal Dillon,” he greeted, and although his face was pleasant
enough, his tone was guarded. “Pardon my
intrusion.”
After
several long moments, Matt managed, “Uh, yeah – “
“Have I
interrupted something?”
No one
provided the obvious answer.
A rather
breathless Newly O’Brien hustled in behind the cabinet member. “He came to the jailhouse looking for you,”
he explained, his voice revealing more than a little awe.
“It’s been
a few years, Matt,”
“You, too,
General,” Matt agreed, memory flickering back three years to his first meeting
with Garland in Washington. A meeting
that had brought him a commendation and personal letter of thanks from the
Attorney General himself – to go along with the two broken ribs and knife wound
he had managed to acquire in the process that earned him recognition he had
certainly not sought.
The older
man stopped close to Matt and squinted up at the marshal. “Have you gotten taller?”
“Not that I know of. Uh,
General?” Matt asked tentatively, not at all sure he wanted to know the
answer, “what brings you to Dodge?”
“Ah.”
“What is
it?” Kitty asked, confusion drawing down her brow.
Instead of
answering,
“Oh.” Grateful for the reprieve, he grasped Kitty’s
elbow and nodded toward
A grin of
true delight spread over the full face.
“Indeed? Well, I am honored to
meet you Mrs. Dillon. I had heard, of
course, that Matt had finally come to his senses. I’m happy for you both,” he said gallantly,
his lips lingering over her hand – lingering a bit too long, as far as Matt was
concerned.
Her tone a
bit bemused, but pleased, Kitty answered graciously, “Thank you, General
Garland. I’m rather happy for us,
too.” But she was not to be distracted. “Now, what is that you are holding?”
Matt
winced, his moment of reprieve over.
For a
moment,
Pursing his
lips, Matt blew out hard, almost wishing there might be a sudden eruption of
pugilism among them so that he could wade in and break it up and distract the
Attorney General from his appointed path.
Unfortunately,
no fisticuffs ensued.
Kitty shook
her head, bemused. “I thought he’d
already sent his answer.” Turning to
Matt, she asked, “Didn’t you?”
“Kitty – “
“Wael,” Festus prodded, his
curiosity merely a vocalization of what everyone else was feeling. “What’s it say?”
The crowd
turned as one to plaster their gazes directly on Matt. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, pressing his lips together in an expression that was
part grimace, part flinch. Every eye in
the room bore in to him, but there was one set of eyes that skewered him
straight through.
One set of
very blue, and very beautiful – and very mad
– eyes.
TBC