Standard disclaimers apply. Consider this my early Valentine to all the Matt/Kitty lovers out there. Contains suggestive language and adult situations.

With a Little Luck

Chapter 1

Wednesday, February 12

Matt Dillon was quite pleased with himself. He was bone tired and saddle sore, but riding back into town this cold and sunny afternoon, it looked like his record would remain intact. It had been just over two weeks since he had left Dodge City to track a gang of outlaws, and at the time he had no way of knowing how long he would be gone. But after accomplishing his mission and delivering the surviving prisoner to Hays, he was safely home with two days to spare—enough time to recover from an exhausting trip so he could devote his full attention to the day and the woman he cherished.

The demands of his job frequently caused him to miss holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, and social events, and there had been more than a couple of arguments over that fact. But by some miracle, he had not missed a single Valentine's Day in seven years with Kitty Russell. Matt was not a superstitious man, but he figured this had to be some kind of omen. They were destined to be lovers.

He dismounted Buck and stretched his long, stiff legs. It felt like he had been gone much longer than fifteen days. He grabbed his saddle bag and gear and headed toward the office to let Chester know he was back. Chester could tend to Buck while he tended to more pressing matters.

Business at The Long Branch Saloon was typical for a weekday afternoon. A couple of men drank shots at the bar while a table of semi-rowdy cowboys worked on a round of beers. Kitty was chatting with Sam, her good friend and trusted employee, when the weary Marshal made his entrance.

He stopped just inside the doors and looked toward the bar. Blue eyes met bluer ones, and they could hardly contain their excitement. They did, of course, since doing otherwise was not an option with customers present.

He was still in the same ripe clothes he had worn on the trail. Taking a warm bath and a long nap were high on his list of priorities after the trip, but not as high as the beautiful redhead in the sapphire dress.

Matt walked over to the bar and tipped his hat. "Hello, Kitty," he said politely as a few customers showed mild interest in his presence. He looked like a vagabond and smelled like a horse, and she couldn't have been more attracted to him.

"Hi Matt," she returned, with a subtly flirtatious smile. "I didn't know you were back."

"Just got in few minutes ago," he replied. "I rode old Buck pretty hard to make it in today."

"Remind me to give that horse a treat," she said, with a barely perceptible wink.

For the past week, Kitty had wondered if this would be the year that broke their winning streak. He had been called away so suddenly, and the only consistent aspect of his job was its unpredictability. There was no telling how long he could be on the trail of those outlaws. She knew that disappointment would be a small price to pay as long as he returned safely to her, no matter what day it was. But oh, how she had hoped he would make it home in time. Valentine's Day had been a welcome constant in their uncertain world—a holiday for sweethearts that they had managed to celebrate together, without exception, every year of their now seasoned romance. And alas, it appeared that Cupid was ready to smile on them once again.

Matt enjoyed a beer on the house before heading off for that much needed bath and nap. He asked Miss Kitty if she might accompany him to dinner later that evening, and she accepted. Two friends making plans to have a meal together, to anyone listening in the saloon.

As Matt left The Long Branch, Kitty's mind was already wandering past dinner and onto post-dinner activities. He had to be tired and sore after that ride, she thought, and maybe they should wait until their special day to do anything too strenuous. Perhaps build the anticipation—now that would be different, and it sounded rather exciting. It would be a Valentine's Day to remember, for sure.

Kitty quickly came back to earth and rolled her eyes. There was fantasy, and then there was reality. It had been over two weeks, and that hadn't happened since…well, the last time he had been on the trail for over two weeks. And as she recalled, he had practically tackled her at the first opportunity after getting back that time. He may have just gotten out of a long haul in the saddle, but Matt Dillon was going to be ready for another ride tonight. And admittedly, so was she.

Then there was the matter of his gift. Should she wait or unveil it tonight? It seemed so perfectly suited to a man seeing his woman after a long absence. Besides, there was still a slight chance something would happen to keep them apart on the actual day. Yes, she decided with a smile, she would give it to him tonight.

GSGSGSGSGSGSGSGS

Matt rested his neck on the back of the tub. The warm water felt even better than he had imagined, and his aching muscles almost sighed in appreciation.

So much had happened, and he needed to tell her about it. As strong and stoic as any man, the burdens of being a lawman sometimes overwhelmed even Matt Dillon. Though he hated to worry her, she knew him too well and he couldn't hide his feelings from her. He had learned early in their relationship that he didn't have to. A man in his line of work was lucky to find a trusted confidante, a faithful friend, or a true lover. He had managed to find all three, and her name was Kitty Russell.

Matt smiled as he thought about the box that was still safely tucked in his saddle bag. The only bright spot in a fortnight of tribulation had been buying that gift for her in Hays. He was tempted to give it to her tonight but willed himself to wait two more days. They would have dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town, take a walk back to her place under the moonlight, and enjoy an intimate night by candlelight in her room. Was his gift really as perfect as it seemed? He could hardly wait to find out.

But first there was tonight. After two weeks of beans over a campfire and the cold, hard ground, his reward would be a tender steak and a night of passion in the warm bed of the woman he loved. Matt took a deep breath and closed his eyes, almost able to taste the steak and feel her body against him. It was sensory heaven, until a sudden noise jolted him out of paradise.

"Mister Dillon? Mister Dillon? Are you in there?" The knock was quick and urgent.

Matt immediately recognized his assistant's unmistakable voice. He had no idea why Chester was there, but he already knew one thing for sure—there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that he was going to finish this bath.

"Just a minute, Chester," he said none too eagerly. He stepped out of the tub, quickly drying off and throwing on the fresh clothes he had laid out before opening the door. "What is it?" he asked.

"I sure hate to bother you, Mister Dillon," Chester began, "but old Grady Fisher's got hisself into a heap of trouble over at The Lady Gay. I think you'd better come.

Matt didn't ask what kind of trouble. He just grabbed his gun belt and badge and headed to The Lady Gay.

Grady Fisher had made the innocent mistake of talking to the wrong man's girl. The wrong man turned out to be a stranger in town with a bottle of whiskey and an explosive temper. It was a dangerous combination. The girl later claimed she barely knew him, but that hadn't stopped him from attacking poor Grady after he offered to buy her a drink. Matt had been able to break up the fight fairly quickly despite the crazed man's determination to keep it going. It often came in handy to be more than a half foot taller than most men in town.

Chester took Grady up to Doc's to get checked out while Matt hauled the resistant offender off to jail. Maybe after he sobered up he would be more cooperative. He'd had his fill of uncooperative prisoners for one week. Matt decided he would send a wire tomorrow to see if the man was wanted for any other crimes.

He looked at the clock and pondered his options. He had to fit that nap in, even if it meant pushing dinner off until later. He definitely wanted to give tonight his best shot, so to speak.

GSGSGSGSGSGSGSGS

The late dinner crowd at Delmonico's was sparse. As they worked on their steaks and wine, Matt and Kitty chatted about all the town news Matt had missed while he was away. It was nothing too exciting, but it was still news. He filled her in on the stranger in jail who had caused their date to be delayed. How they had missed talking about the little things.

It wasn't easy, but Matt finally brought up his two weeks on the trail. He had been involved in a harrowing gunfight with four gang members and had killed three of them. The remaining outlaw had given himself up but had tried to escape during the ride to Hays. Kitty shuddered at the image of a four-against-one gunfight, grateful that she hadn't known about it at the time. But she wanted to know about it now—she would not let him relive that experience alone.

He finished his story and they looked at each other silently. "I'm so glad you're home," she said in a soft voice, putting her hand on his.

"Me too," he replied. "I missed you, Kitty."

Under the conveniently long tablecloth, she reached out her foot and started gently sliding it up and down his leg. He felt a little flutter of excitement rush through his body. How does she do that? Seven years later, through a lace up boot, her touch still made him feel like a teenager.

Matt leaned in a little closer. "Are you ready to get out of here?" he asked quietly. Kitty smiled—she was indeed. Matt began to look around for their waiter when something caught his eye just outside the restaurant.

"Oh no," he said, a sense of dread in his voice.

"What?" Kitty asked, turning her head toward the front window. Chester Goode was peeking inside, scanning the room. He saw them and quickly hobbled into the restaurant.

"Mister Dillon!" he called excitedly, rushing over to their table. He took his hat off apologetically. "I sure am sorry to interrupt your dinner, Miss Kitty, but this is important."

"What is it, Chester?" Matt asked, already sure he didn't want to know.

"He gone, Mister Dillon!" Chester fretted.

"Who's gone?" Matt asked.

"The prisoner that beat up old Grady. He escaped from jail!" Chester exclaimed.

"How in the world did that happen?" Matt asked. "Weren't you there with him?"

"Oh yes Sir," Chester said nervously. "He…well, uh, he yelled for me and I seen him all bent over holdin' his stomach, and he said he was real sick and I had to help him. So I went in there…"

"You went in there?" Matt interrupted. "Chester, you don't just walk into a jail cell with a prisoner, you know that!"

"I do, Mister Dillon," he said meekly. "I don't know what happened, I guess I just panicked. I thought he was dyin' or somethin'. And then when I got close to him, he elbowed me right in the face and ran off." Chester's swollen nose backed up his story. Not that Matt doubted it—Chester was as honest as the day was long.

"Well, are you all right?" Kitty asked, noticing his injury.

"Oh, I'm fine," he replied sheepishly. "I just feel bad about it's all."

Matt grimaced as he saw his plans evolving from a hot night on top of a goddess to a cold night on top of a horse.

"Well, he might not be that dangerous," Matt said weakly, gazing longingly at his dinner partner.

"Oh Matt!" she scolded. "Go find him."

Matt glared at Chester as he stood up from the table. "Which way did he go?" he sighed.

TBC