The strongly built man with chiseled features who stood just inside the batwings and narrowed his keen dark eyes as he scoped the Long Branch was a stranger to Kitty, and his vigilant bold air aroused her curiosity. His eyes lingered on Kitty as he sighted her, his penetrating stare heightening her senses, and she felt a stirring within like a tickle.
The stranger's eyes held Kitty's as he moved to the end of the bar where she stood and took off his hat, uncovering thick, waving dark hair. His face was a clean shade of amber. "How do, ma'am," he said in a deep, mellow voice. Looking into his eyes was enlivening, and Kitty knew at once she could trust him, even if she encountered him alone on the prairie at night.
"Steele's the name, ma'am," he said. "Joshua Steele. May I buy you a drink?"
"Kitty Russell. This your first time here?"
"It is," said Steele. "I been setting up a new livery in town."
"Drink's on the house, first visit," said Kitty. "Beer?"
"Please."
"Two beers, Sam."
Joshua Steele was a conversationalist, and Kitty's thoughts flowed effortlessly as they talked. "Will you have lunch with me, tomorrow, Miss Kitty?" he said.
As he spoke, a sweet scent of lilacs wafted on a breeze through the Long Branch on the first warm night of spring. Kitty looked across the saloon over the batwings at the sky sparkling with stars as the lilac scent filled her head.
When Kitty met a suitor who pleased her, she reminded herself that her heart belonged to the marshal, inevitably wondered if Matt recollected her devotion, if he cared in the same way, and if he did, how deeply. She figured if Matt's love truly was "forsaking all others," the same questions wouldn't plague her every time an eligible man approached.
Kitty turned her gaze back to Joshua's eyes and smiled. He leaned patiently against the bar, watching her. He was not more than thirty-five years, yet had long creases which grew more defined at the corners of his eyes as he admiringly regarded her.
"Sure," said Kitty. "I'd like to have lunch with you, Joshua." His smile made him look unguarded and much younger.
Hearing Matt's measured steps, Kitty felt her heart give the usual light kick before settling into a quickened tempo. "Hello, Kitty," said the marshal, tipping his hat.
"Matt," said Kitty. "You met Joshua?"
"Joshua," said Matt. "The livery open for business?"
"It is, at long last," said Joshua. "I hired young Dave for my night man. He's only eighteen, but he's real capable."
"Dave's a good worker," said Matt. "He runs errands for me now and then; helps out chorin' sometimes at the jail."
Joshua gave a slow, serious nod, followed it up with a respectful pause, and said, "Kitty and I are going to lunch tomorrow."
"That so," said the marshal.
Joshua leaned back, resting his elbows on the bar as he looked from his six-foot height up at Matt. "Word around town is you have a beautiful woman," said Joshua. "A saloon proprietess. Not married, though. I like beautiful women, the unmarried kind especial, so I set my mind to meet her."
"Mm-hmm," said Matt. "See ya, Kitty." He tugged his hat brim.
"Matt, wait," said Kitty. "Don't you want a beer?"
"Later, maybe."
"Matt." Kitty went to him and took his arm. "I know you want a beer," she said. "Come talk to me awhile. I haven't seen you all day."
"It doesn't look like you've been lonely, Kitty."
"Don't let me keep you from your beer, Marshal," said Joshua. "It's Dave's first night workin' at the livery; I best check on him, make sure everything's alright." He put on his hat. "I'll see you tomorrow, lunchtime, Miss Kitty."
Matt watched him leave. "Let's sit down, Matt," said Kitty.
"Two beers, Miss Kitty?" Sam called.
"Just one, Sam. For Matt."
"You and that fella must've had a lot to say," said Matt, pulling out a chair for Kitty. "You drained your beer mug at the bar."
"He's an interesting talker," said Kitty.
"Ya like 'im?"
"Sure. I wouldn't be havin' lunch with him if I didn't."
Sam appeared at the table and thumped a beer in front of Matt, glancing somberly at him before hurrying back to the bar. "Why did Sam look at you like that?" said Kitty.
Matt looked amused and a bit flustered. "Kitty," he said, "I didn't see Sam's expression cuz I was lookin' at you. And I have no idea what he's thinkin'."
Kitty shrugged. "I just asked," she said.
Matt gulped from his beer mug and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "Seems to me you like Steele's company better than mine," he said.
Kitty hesitated, frowning a little and gazing intently at the marshal. "No, I don't," she said. "I had to think about it a minute, but no." She shook her head. "Every time I'm with a man I like, when you walk in, I like you so much more, Matt. I realize it, over and over again. Every time."
Matt's eyes softened from distant cool to warm, and he reached across the table, touching his palm to her face. "Kitty . . . . Sometimes I think I'm selfish, keepin' company with you," he said quietly.
Kitty took his hand in both of hers. "I don't want you to stop," she said, and the marshal smiled.
Kitty let go of his hand as one of her gals, Violet Darling, moved to their table. "What is it, Vi," said Kitty.
Vi laid her hands on Matt's shoulders, and he looked up into her large dark-blue eyes. "Violet," he said.
"Hello, Matt." Vi had a voice like warm silken sheets caressing skin. Her fingers with their long red-painted nails probed the marshal's shoulders. "You're tense," she said. Her fingertips kneaded Matt's neck.
"You know what a massage is, Kitty?" said Vi.
"No, I don't."
"It's the latest thing outa Paris," said Vi, her fingers working Matt's shoulders. "It's fine for makin' your man restful. For sleepin'. For lovin'."
"That feels good," said Matt. "I had some achy tightness in my muscles, there. It's gone, now."
"Course it is, honey." Vi brought her face close to his, her hands hot on his shoulders. She smelled of lavender soap.
"Your fingers must be gettin' tired, Vi," said Kitty.
"Mmm, a little." Vi put her arm around Matt, leaning her voluptuous body against his. He felt her breast move with her breathing, pillowed through the flimsy costume against his arm.
"Our patrons need tending to, Vi," said Kitty.
"Let 'em wait their turn," said Vi. She kissed Matt, her mouth full and moist, and he fought the impulse to take her in his arms and prolong the kiss.
"I'm here for you any time you want me," she purred, leaning over Matt, her pretty, sultry face filling the marshal's vision. She had a peachy complexion, and abundant gold hair dressed with blue combs and curled in ringlets. "All you want of me," said Vi. "And I don't expect no devotion in return." Matt took light hold of her satiny bare arms.
"I best get back to work." Vi sighed. "You remember what I said." Matt watched her sashay to the bar.
"Well," said Kitty. "I'd only be a little surprised if you took 'er right here on the table." Kitty's eyes sparked, her mouth tightened and her chin set.
"Now, wait just a minute, Kitty," said Matt. "You saw what she did. She was all over me. What'd you expect me to do?"
"Push her off."
"I'd never push a woman; you know that."
"You know what I mean, Matt. You didn't resist her at all."
Matt looked at Kitty, unable to think of an answer. It was true; he hadn't resisted the gal. And he wanted her. Still did.
"Don't let me stop you, Matt," said Kitty. "Go ahead and have a good time with her. Maybe I'll do the same with Joshua Steele."
"What you do is your business, Kitty. I'd appreciate it, though, if you'd spare me the sharing of it."
"You know, Matt, that is at the root of our problems." Kitty was raising her voice, and she struggled to keep it down. "You don't give a care if I have other beaus or not," she said through clenched teeth. "It's always my business; I have to deal with these suitors on my own, you could care less." Matt stared at her with a dazed look.
"Quit lookin' at me like I'm addled," said Kitty. "You know exactly what I mean."
"Kitty, I do care," said Matt. "I don't want you to have other beaus, but I have no right to interfere if you do."
Kitty sagged, seeming to shrink into herself as her anger dissolved. "I know," she said. She usually apologized when she tempered at Matt, but didn't this time, as she was sure he wanted to bed Vi.
"Kitty," said Matt. He took her hand resting on the table. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing," she said. "I started this, by accepting lunch with Joshua."
"Nothing wrong with that," said the marshal. "He seems a good man. Gives me no pleasure to say it, though, that's sure."
Kitty sighed, and Matt lightly squeezed her hand. "I'm fine, Matt," she said. "Just tired, now, is all."
"You wanna go upstairs?" he said.
Kitty nodded. "I'll say goodnight here," she said. "I really am tired, Matt." She felt depleted, although not ready for sleep. She wanted to go alone to her room, lock herself in, change into a nightgown, and while sitting in bed sipping tea, wonder about Joshua Steele and Matt, and whether Matt would bed Vi Darling.
"Alright, Kitty," said the marshal.
Kitty climbed the stairs, and looked down at the first floor. Matt habitually stood up to leave when she said goodnight, but tonight he'd kept his seat. He still sat there, looking up at her, and she almost beckoned him to come up and join her, as she had no doubt that he wanted Vi.
Vi was a lady of the night, and she'd seduced most every man who'd stepped inside the batwings, married or not. She drew men to the Long Branch, and Kitty had no intention of telling her to leave. Vi did her job, and she was good at it.
Kitty knew that Matt would rather share her bed than Vi's, that until Kitty shut herself in her room, he'd wait, hoping for her smile and welcoming gesture. Vi had put the craving in Matt, and he'd likely turn to her if Kitty didn't invite him upstairs.
Kitty gazed down at Matt's uplifted face a moment, then decided against it. She needed time to herself. If he took Vi, he'd only be doing what came natural, anyway. It was nothing to fret over, practically just trifling. Kitty went in her room and closed the door.
Matt watched Vi at the bar while he finished his beer. She smiled and walked slowly to him, swaying her hips. "Can I show you a good time, Matt?" she said.
He stared into her dark-blue eyes. "I have a nice room upstairs," said Vi. "Nice as Kitty's. My gown's fancy as hers, too. All blue silk and lots of lace. Clings on me like it grew there." Matt swallowed hard and said nothing.
Vi took his hand. "Come on, honey," she said. When Matt didn't move, she kissed him, and tugged his hand. He rose, and Vi led him up the stairs to her room. She opened the door, and Matt followed her in.
When the sun rose in a cloudless sky the next morning, the warm rays shone through a curtained window in Ma Smalley's bathing room, where Matt scrubbed himself in a tub of steaming water. He'd left Violet's room before dawn, spending the rest of the night in his bed at Ma's boarding house.
A young woman who boarded at Ma's was up early as well, as Doc had invited her to go fishing. Her name was Penelope Pierson, and folks called her Penny. Doc had removed her appendix that winter, and tended her through her convalescence with his usual diligent care, especially gentle and attentive to her, as Penny was pretty, petite and delicate, and just twenty-eight years old.
She'd turned sweet on Doc, although she had a suitor, a coal mine owner who paid for her living and had promised to ask her to marry him, when he found the time. He was too immersed in his business to pay her special attentions, so Penny turned to other men.
While confined to bed, she told Doc all about herself and her beau, and how she'd never worked a lick in her life, although her father had died and she had no other relatives to pay her keep, as the Piersons did not live long. Even so, suitors were always willing to take care of Penny, particularly if she favored them in return.
"A woman in my position can only afford to be a pristine lady if she's a drudge, Doc," Penny explained. "And with my constitution, I'd soon die as a drudge. I haven't a lot of book-learning, and I'm not smart enough to be a schoolteacher. So I became a kept woman to survive."
Doc was not judgmental of Penny, and expected no commitment from her. He knew she'd likely accept the coal mine owner—who was rich and not yet forty years of age—when the man got around to proposing. Doc had grown attached to Penny while he treated her, and decided to make the most of her company while it lasted.
Doc didn't know that Penny had turned sweet on Chester as well, and invited him to go fishing with them. She and Chester figured together that as she and Doc were small and Chester slim, the three of them would fit snugly on Doc's buggy seat.
Arriving early at the marshal's office as he always did, Matt told Chester he could take the day off. "You goin' fishin' with Doc?" said Matt.
"Yessir. Doc and Miss Penny Pierson."
"Whose idea was that?" said the marshal, grinning a little. "Not Doc's, I take it."
"Miss Penny invited me," said Chester. "Doc'll find out when we meet up ta Ma's."
"I'd like to see Doc's reaction to that," said Matt.
"Well, if Doc don't like it, Mr. Dillon, he don't haveta come with us," said Chester. He put on his hat, took up his fishing pole and a pail packed with damp dirt and live worms, and set out.
Penny sat waiting in Ma Smalley's parlor, a picnic basket at her feet. Ma had fried chicken, baked cornbread and sugar cookies with walnuts, fixed potato salad and mixed a bottle of cold tea for their lunch.
Chester opened the door and smiled when he saw Penny sitting with her little gloved hands folded and her ankles crossed, wearing a bright green gingham dress with white ruffles, a matching shawl and sunbonnet in her lap.
"Mornin', Miss Penny," said Chester. "My, you're pretty. Jest like a picture."
Penny's bright black eyes were a bit big for her face, which made her look endearing and younger than she was. She had silky yellow-orange hair, a small nose and bow mouth, and creamy complexion.
"Thank you, Chester," she said, beaming at him. She stood, reached her gloved hands up to his shoulders, lifted her face and pursed her mouth for a kiss.
Chester put down his pole and pail, gingerly touched his hands to her back, bent his head over hers, and kissed her, the wavy tendrils around her face brushing his. Her bones were like a bird's, he thought, and she was so slender he feared hurting her without of course meaning to.
He kissed Penny with an easy conscience, as Doc couldn't fairly lay claim to her. Chester knew the mine owner Mr. Theodore Calvert paid for her keep, and was expected to ask for her hand in marriage.
Chester looked into her eyes shining into his, and kissed her again without thinking on it, just as Doc walked in, fishing pole and bait pail in hand. Absorbed in their kiss, Chester and Penny took no notice of him.
Doc was surprised to feel a stab of real anger at Chester, as their frequent bickering usually elicited only mild irritation on Doc's part. "Chester," he said, and Chester and Penny both startled.
Chester could not recollect Doc ever looking at him like that, not even the time Doc realized his horse was missing, and Chester confessed he'd shot the horse, boiled the meat and fed it to Doc to keep him alive after Chester dug a bullet out of Doc on the prairie.
"Doc?" said Chester. "What's wrong?"
Doc's anger faded as he met Chester's soulful, artless gaze. Enchanting as a fragile spring flower, Penny was also known about town as a player. Fond of women as Chester was, and more so even than most men susceptible to pretty young women, Chester naturally couldn't help but kiss Penny.
"Well, you . . . ." Doc said. "Oh, never mind, Chester."
Penny moved to Doc and took his arm. "Doc," she said sweetly, "I invited Chester to come fishing with us. He told me how much he loves to go."
"He did, did he," said Doc, glaring at Chester.
"Yes," said Penny. "You're not mad, are you, Doc?"
"Well, I'm not happy about it," said Doc.
"I best not go, then, maybe," said Chester. Woeful reproach filled his brown eyes as he looked at Doc. "I thought you an' me was fishin' partners, Doc."
"Wha— Why in thunder should I feel guilty about this," said Doc. "I invited Penny on an outing, and you—you hounded in, Chester."
"Oh, no," said Penny. "Oh, Doc, please don't blame Chester. This is all my fault. Everyone says you two are friends. If I set you against each other, why, I'd feel terrible. I'd never forgive myself."
"Now, don't fret, Penny." Doc set his pole and pail on the floor, and put his arm around her. "You can't possibly bear blame. Sweet little woman like you? That's ridiculous."
"It most certainly is," said Chester. "Heavens, Miss Penny, we wouldn't think on findin' fault with you."
"You're both such gentlemen," said Penny. "I love you both; I simply can't help it." She lightly kissed Doc's face and giggled, and Doc's dander heated up at Chester again. She'd kissed Chester on the mouth, and there'd been nothing light about it. Chester was young, and more affectionate than Doc, which made Doc sour.
"You're still mad at me, Doc. I shouldn't oughter 'ave come." Chester thought Miss Penny's attentions were not worth having Doc truly riled at him, unlike Doc's habitual fussing and joshing.
"I didn't say I was mad at you," said Doc.
"But you are."
"No, I'm not," said Doc. "I can't take the luxury of tempering at you, Chester. I'd worry you'd . . . be stricken with melancholy."
"Ma Smalley told me about the creative things you do, Chester. Artistic people do tend to be quite sensitive," said Penny soberly.
"Artistic," said Doc.
"Well, yes," said Penny. "Anyone who plays the guitar and harmonica, makes up songs and sings, whittles carvings and braids lariats must be very artistic, Doc."
Doc frowned quizzically at Chester, who blushed and smiled. "Ar-tis-tic," he said, in wonder, and gave a soft little laugh. "I ain't much good at any of that."
"A lot of folks can't do any of it," said Penny.
"Well, Chester," said Doc, "I'm looking at you in a whole new light."
"Then you won't mind too much, maybe, if I come along fishin', Doc?" said Chester.
"No, I don't mind," said Doc. "So long as you don't get amorous."
"Waal, I'll try not to," said Chester, picking up his fishing pole, pail of worms, and the picnic basket, "but I jest might not help maself. You know how I feel 'bout you, Doc."
Penny laughed. "You're funny, Chester."
"Chester's my reason for gettin' out of bed in the morning," said Doc, as they headed out into the sunshine. "I'd have very little to laugh about, if not for him."
"Yeah, I love you, too, Doc," said Chester.
As Doc, Chester and Penny rode in Doc's buggy to Rattlesnake Creek, Kitty fumed over whether the marshal had bedded Violet Darling the night before. An almost bodily painful jealousy battered her like debris in a whirlpool, and her heart knocked in her chest.
Unable to shed the tormenting thoughts and feelings, Kitty grew impatient with herself. She had since Matt first befriended her occasionally accepted another man's invitation to share a bed, or invited a man to her room.
Kitty's room visits with other men were no secret in Dodge. She mentioned them to Matt at times, or he let her know he knew about them, when the uncertain nature of her friendship with the marshal incited a quarrel.
Kitty was fairly sure that Matt rarely slept with other women, and when he did, it was only to satisfy his need if he was away from Kitty. As he'd often said, Matt preferred her to any woman.
Still, Kitty had to find out from Matt about Vi Darling, to whom few men could say no. Before she met Joshua Steele for lunch, Kitty would ask Matt if he'd bedded Vi last night, and if he wanted her again, more than he wanted Kitty. Whether she accepted a courtship with Joshua would depend on what—and how—Matt answered.