A Thanksgiving to Remember
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and as usual, Matt is out of town. I've got to hand it to that man. If there's a reason to celebrate or just simply relax he'll have some excuse for why he can't. Instead, he says Doc and Chester are more than willing to fill in for him. Sometimes I don't know why I put up with the man. One of these days I won't come back from visiting a friend or a buying run in one of the larger towns. Maybe I'll even go on to St. Louis or in the other direction to San Francisco. I might even return to New Orleans. After all, I was only a girl when I left.
Who am I kidding? I may have been incredulous back during that first year when Matt and I were first getting to know one another, but I now understand how a woman can wait 20 years for her man to finally propose. At least my cowboy is more aware of my fondest desire than Nip Cullers was. We've argued about it way too many times for me to think he isn't. Still, I can either accept his explanation as to why we can't or sell the Long Branch and move on. I love him too much to do anything else. I only hope he lives long enough to realize there comes a time when he has to leave that badge he was married to when I met him behind so the man and his needs can come first. I know he's sworn an oath that he's duty bound to uphold. It's part of why I love him, but why can't he fulfill his duty to the man behind the badge?
Go on Kitty Russell; get a hold of yourself! Matt Dillon, United States Marshal, isn't about to change nor do you really want him to. The man is after Drake Kilgore who beat old Mrs. Markham to death for her money and brutally killed a widow and her small child on a farm 15 miles outside of town for the same reason. He has to be stopped and Matt's the one to do the stopping. It's just our luck that he slipped out of Matt's grasp yesterday. Somehow he managed to knock Chester on the head and lock him in the cell while Matt and I were eating supper at Delmonico's. By the time Matt got to Chester, Kilgore was long gone, but at least Quint saw which direction he rode off in.
Quint Asper had taken care of a loose shoe on Kilgore's horse, which he kept on at his blacksmith's shop. He didn't see Matt arrest the man or even know he was wanted. Mrs. Markham had managed to describe him as had the widow's hired hand, so Matt quietly arrested him as he left Quint's shop for my saloon. Matt was quick enough that when Kilgore started for his gun, Matt was able to knock him out with his own pistol and drag him to the jail for Chester to lock up.
I know I shouldn't worry. Doc's always reminding me Matt can take care of himself and deep down I know he can. I also know deep down that some day a bullet from one of those killers and spoilers he's always talking about will find its mark and Doc won't be able to pull him through. I dread that day, but even if he gave up the badge and bought a ranch or a share of the Long Branch, there would still be men after him – those he sent to prison and those who simply wanted to make a reputation by saying they killed the famous Matt Dillon.
I've got just about everything ready for tomorrow that I can prepare in advance. It will be a small gathering, just Doc, Chester, Quint, Festus, his girl April, Sam, me and Matt, if he ever gets here. I'll put the turkey Quint shot when he went hunting this morning in the oven here at the saloon with a Haggen family stuffing from Festus. Quint will be bringing corn cooked Comanche style, Doc is using the oven here to bake an Adams family pumpkin pie and Chester is providing not just the coffee, but the cranberry sauce as well. I expect them all by five.
It's now Thanksgiving Day and still no Matt. Doc's acting mighty mysterious. He keeps shooing me away from his office and Chester seems to be aiding him. Quint and Festus are as baffled as I am. Finally, I can't wait any longer. I send April, who'd been helping me with the cooking, to fetch the rest of my guests.
I opened the doors when April knocked and let everyone in, then closed them. There we all were at our usual table against the stairs. All the fixings were laid out before us. Doc carved the bird. We all began to say what we were thankful for. I had no idea what I'd say when it became my turn because everything was covered by the time it got to me. I lifted my wine glass, stared at it and at the people who'd become my family trying to hold back the tears while thinking of what I might say.
"Since you're having trouble, I'll say what I'm thankful for. I'm thankful to be home in time for a dinner cooked by the most beautiful woman in my world."
"Matt, you made it on time! Thank Heaven!"
Suddenly my appetite was back. We dug into that meal. I never enjoyed a meal more. Matt explained that he'd returned the night before. He'd caught up with his prisoner and after battling him without a chance of sleep finally ended up shooting him within five miles of Dodge. Moss was asleep when he brought his and Kilgore's horses to the stable where Chester, who was headed to bed at the jail saw him. They walked toward the jail, but Matt nearly collapsed against Chester, who brought him up to Doc thinking he was shot. He was just exhausted and fell asleep on the examining table. Doc kept it a secret just in case Matt didn't wake on time, but planned to bring me up to his office if he didn't.
"Doc, how could you and Chester do that to me?" I asked just as Matt put his arm around me and gave me a quick hug.
After that, everyone began to drift away from the table. Each of them helped to clean up what remained on the table and put the chairs up before leaving for their beds. Matt and I leaned against the bar and watched. Once Sam left by the back door, the same one Matt had used to come in through with his key, only Doc was left.
"Now Kitty, if you want to go on being thankful, I suggest you take that overgrown public servant of yours upstairs. Make sure he stays in bed well into the morning. Doctor's orders!"