THE LETTER
Author's note: This story was inspired by Amanda's wonderful "Mulberry Bush," currently available under "M" at this site. However, "The Letter" is intended as a sequel to my earlier story, "In Their Eyes," which is in itself an epilogue to "Matt's Love Story." "ITE" can be found right here if anyone needs a refresher.
THE LETTER
Matt Dillon blew a deep puff of air from his massive chest and threw one long arm, the one not clasping Kitty Russell close against his heart, over his head. His large hand hit the headboard of the big brass bed with a resounding clang.
Kitty stirred slightly and lifted her face from the warmth of his chest. "Can't sleep, Cowboy? You usually don't stay awake very long after we've, uh, been that active. Something wrong?"
"I'm sorry I woke you, Kit, and no, nothing's wrong. But I do need to talk to you and I guess it better be now."
"Can't it wait a couple hours 'til I'm awake?"
"Uh, not really. I'll be on the road in a couple hours."
"You're going away? You haven't said a word. Where...how long?"
"Arizona Territory."
"Arizo...Matt, that's over five hundred miles! Surely the government has a U.S. Marshal closer than you. What about your friend in Flagstaff...Clay Holbrook?"
He blew out another breath. "This isn't government business."
"Not government business...then what is it?" Kitty pushed herself up on both elbows and bunched her pillow under her chin so that she could peer into his face in the dark.
"It's...it's personal, Kit. Very personal."
"Matt, I don't mean to pry, but what kind of 'very personal' business could you possibly have in Arizona?"
In the silence that followed, her puzzled mind leapt back three years to the time Matt had been missing for eight weeks with no word, no sign, nothing. He had been in Arizona that time, too. Her voice suddenly uncertain, she whispered, "Matt...you're scaring me. Please tell me what's wrong."
Wrapping his arms tight around her, he turned them so that they were lying face to face, eye to eye, heart to heart, soul to soul.
"Kitty...remember the last time I was down there...and Mike, the rancher who took me in and saved my life?"
Deep blue eyes fixed on his, she nodded, but couldn't keep the sarcasm from her voice. "That's a little hard for me to forget. Go on."
"I got a letter from her...about two weeks ago. She, she thought I had the right to know that I have a...that I'm a father."
"That's ridiculous, Matt. It's been about three years since you were there. If she had a baby now, you're certainly not the father!"
"No, the baby...the little girl is two years old. I've worked out the math, Kitty." He ran his tongue across his lips, trying to gather enough moisture to form the next words. "It is possible. I could be the father."
Feeling as if she were going to be sick, Kitty couldn't decide whether to lash out at Matt or at Mike. At the moment she loathed them both, but she so wanted, so needed, the comfort of Matt's arms, the reassurance of his big body pressed against hers, his lips moving against her red curls.
So she chose Mike. "And so could every other man who crossed that valley. She took you in, Matt. Who knows how many other men she invited into her home and into her bed."
"Easy, Kitty. First of all, Mike's not like that. Maybe I wasn't exactly myself, might have lost my memory, but I didn't lose my judgment of people and character. Mike was...is...a good person. She did take me into her home and, eventually, into her bed, but it took her a long time to do that and, I'm not positive, but I think I was the first man she had been with since her husband died a couple a years before. No, I think Mike is an honest and honorable woman. If she says this child is mine, then I need to believe her unless I can prove otherwise."
It sure sounded as if he wanted to defend this Mike person, so Kitty changed her attack. "I just don't believe this is happening. After all the years we've been together...it just doesn't seem possible that you could be with her just one time...if that's all it was...and suddenly produce a child with her. If Mike is so honest and honorable, maybe you're the one who isn't. Maybe you weren't telling me the truth about your...your little love affair!"
Matt's mouth, hot and hard and demanding, was over hers in an instant, stopping the torrent of hurt and anger before she could do any more harm to either of them. "Kitty, please...calm down. Stop. Don't say things you're going to regret later. This is me...Matt. I didn't have any love affair, big or little, with Mike. That was Dan. I thought you...you said you understood."
"Then why'd she write to you? Why didn't she get in touch with Dan to tell him the happy news?"
"Kitty..."
"I know; I know I'm being irrational, but damn it, this is just such a shock and it hurts so much."
"I know, sweetheart; I know. I've had two weeks and I'm still not used to the idea. That's why I'm leaving for Arizona in the morning...to talk to Mike and to see Beth...that's the little girl's name...and try to sort out this whole mess. I'm sorry, Kitty. I'm so sorry. I love you, ya know." His big hand reached around her back and began tracing tender, soothing circles over her soft skin.
She stiffened at his touch, then remembered that three years before when he had returned from Arizona, memory restored, but spirit destroyed, she had forgiven him for his seeming indiscretion and had welcomed him back into her arms, into her heart and into her bed, promising then never to bring up the subject again. Unable to go back on her word now, she scooted closer into his embrace and pressed her body along the long, hard length of his. "I'm sorry, too, Matt. I didn't mean the things I said. I'm sorry I hurt you...that's something I don't ever want to do. But, Matt, if it is true...if she, if Beth is your daughter, what are you going to do?
"I'm not sure. The fact remains that I can't acknowledge her openly as my child...for all the same reasons I've never wanted a wife or a family. It's just as dangerous for her to be Matt Dillon's daughter in Arizona as it is in Dodge City or Santa Fe or Amarillo or St. Louis or anywhere else. My enemies are everywhere."
"Matt, why would Mike wait so long to tell you? What does she want from you? Are you sure she's not up to something?"
Matt eased Kitty out of his arms and threw his long legs over the side of the bed. He sat there for a minute, head in his hands, debating, and then reached for his shirt. "Here's the letter; maybe it'll make more sense to you if you read it for yourself."
She reached out her hand, but hesitated to take the folded paper from him.
"It's all right...take it. I have no secrets from you."
He handed her the letter and turned up the bedside lamp so that she could read, both of them oblivious to the small square of heavy stock paper that slid to the floor when she opened the fold.
April 23, 1889
Prescott Valley, Arizona Territory
My Dear Matt,
That salutation sounds so strange to my ears for I always think of you as "Dan," and in my dreams that's who you will forever be.
But what I am about to tell you is very real, and I call you by your real name to remind myself that this is no dream.
Who would have guessed that our one night together would leave me with a memory so sweet, so precious that I will be forever tied to you in a way I could never have imagined? The memory of that night is in itself most precious and sweet to me, but the little girl curled asleep in my lap as I write to you is even moreso.
Yes, Matt, I gave birth to a daughter, Elizabeth Ann--Beth--on January 1, 1887. What a way to welcome in the new year!
She's a beautiful, bright little girl with big blue eyes and a mass of dark curls. Please believe me when I say that she is your child. There was no one else, Matt--you are her father.
You're probably wondering why I've waited 2 years to contact you. I'm not sure I can answer that myself except to say that I've wrestled with this decision from the moment I realized I was pregnant. I still don't know if I'm doing the right thing, but I finally came to the conclusion that a man has a right to know that he is a father.
I ask nothing of you. The ranch is growing and we will be all right. Be assured that Beth is healthy, loved and well-cared for.
Do what you will with this information. I assume you are still with the woman you beat feet out of here to return to, and I have no desire to cause trouble between you, but if you're ever chasing another fugitive down this way, do stop in to meet your daughter and share a bowl of son of a gun stew.
Love, (and I say that because I did love you once...still do if truth be told)
Mike
Post Script: Beth and I were in town about a month ago and one of those traveling photographers said she was so pretty he'd make a second picture of her for free if I'd pay for the first one. Everyone says children grow so fast and then they're gone, so I thought I'd have this made to always remember her at this adorable stage in her little life. Look at those curls!
"Where's the photograph?" Kitty asked as she handed the letter back to him.
"It was there. I don't know." He looked in the envelope and then noticed the small square face down on the carpet by the side of the bed. "Here." Not turning it over, he handed it to Kitty.
She looked up at the big man towering over her as she sat on the bed. The dark curls streaked with gray; the piercing blue eyes, world weary and pained just now; the firm jaw; the determined--all right, the downright stubborn--chin. There was no smile on his face this morning, but she had seen it so often, knew it so well, full lips curving sweetly upward as his face relaxed in sleep.
She looked down at the photograph in her hand. Her heart literally skipped a beat, and then it broke. Until that moment, there had still been a ray of hope, but here in her right hand was all the proof she would ever need...the dark curls, the straightforward look in the wide, innocent eyes, the tiny mouth curling in a sweet half smile. As surely as she knew the sun rose in the east, Kitty knew that this little girl was Matt Dillon's child.
"Matt, you don't need to go to Arizona. Did you even look at this picture?"
"Yeah, I looked. She's a cute little girl."
"That's all you see? A cute little girl? Matt, this is you...there's no doubt that she is your child."
"Well, she does have dark hair..."
"It's not just the hair. Look at those eyes, the expression, so pure and innocent...just like yours must have been before the world made you guarded and wary. The chin's the same, and the jaw, too. But most of all, this child has your smile...that sweet half smile curving her tiny mouth. You're her father, Matt. You'll never know how it hurts me to tell you that, but I can't deny it. Beth is definitely your daughter."
She rose from the bed and wrapped her robe around her, carefully keeping her face turned away from him. She stood before the window watching the flickering gas lamp in the street below, fingering the lace curtains and fighting not to cry, not to sob out all the hurt and anger that was in her broken heart.
On the other side of the room Matt paced the floor, at a loss as to how he could comfort her, how he could help her. He moved behind her and wrapped his long arms around her trembling body, pressing his face into her soft neck.
"Kitty...please...I...what's wrong? What can I do?"
Not turning, she spoke to their reflection in the glass. "Nothing, absolutely nothing you can do will change this. All these years I've been so careful--done everything I knew to make sure I didn't get pregnant 'cause you didn't want children, didn't want a wife. And now, out of the blue, you have a daughter...and I'M NOT HER MOTHER! That's what's wrong, dammit! She should be our child, Matt, yours and mine."
"Kitty, it's not as if I, well, as if I planned this, and she's not something I especially wanted, but she's here now and if she is mine, then I need to assume responsibility."
"What's that mean?"
"It means I'm still going to Arizona to talk to Mike. You and she both say this is my child, so I have to believe it's true, and I need to do what's right."
Suddenly aware that the big lawman was naked and shivering in the early morning chill, she took his hand and led him back to the bed, slipping out of her robe, sliding in beside him and pulling the flowered coverlet over them both.
Terrified to ask her next question, even more terrified of the response, Kitty turned to face him and whispered, "Will you come back to Dodge? You and Mike share a bond now, a bond that can never be broken...and one that you and I don't have. She's the mother of your child, and I'm...I'm still just your woman."
He had her in his arms in an instant, his big hand brushing the tangled red hair back from her face. "Ah, Kitty. You could never be 'just' anything to me. Are you saying that twenty-two years of loving each other, trusting each other and sharing our lives, sharing each other, doesn't count as some kind of bond? Mike may have my child, but you have my heart. And it's true, Beth is a part of my life now. But you are my life, Kitty. 'Course I'm coming back to Dodge, coming back to you."
He held her close for several minutes, stroking her hair, kissing her brow, tracing her lips, murmuring reassurances.
Relaxing just a bit, she voiced another worry. "Matt, you said you needed to assume responsibility, do the right thing. Just what are you thinking about?"
"I don't know exactly, but I need to help out financially at the very least...send money, something. She can't have my name, but she can have whatever I can give...I can send something...maybe every month. It won't be easy, but I'll manage. I don't know, Kitty...this is all so new to me.
Kitty heard the resignation in his voice and pulled away just enough to look into those defeated blue eyes. "Matt, how much money is in your bank account?"
"About $450. Why?"
"Because that won't last very long. And, if you send money every month it can be traced right back to you. How 'bout I give you some cash to take with you..."
"I can't take your money, Kit, especially not for this."
"...and Mike can deposit it in a separate account down there where it will draw interest. No one needs to know where it came from or how she got it. I'd write you a draft, but that can be traced, too."
"Why, Kitty? Why would you do this for me...for them?"
"Guess you got to me with that twenty-two years of loving and sharing talk. I love you so much, Matt, and this is something I can do for you. That doesn't happen often 'cause your wants and your needs are so few. This is one time I can help you out, and I want to do it. Honest, Matt, I'm glad to do it."
"Kitty..."
"Subject closed, Cowboy. Now I want you do something for me."
"Yeah?"
"You've been awake all night thinking, talking, planning," she smiled slightly, "pacifying." "Make love to me...slow and sweet...and then sleep for a couple hours before you head out."
At last the full, warm lips curved upward and the sweet, little boy grin appeared. "It'd be my pleasure, ma'am."
He laid her gently on her back and his hand moved tenderly over her soft breasts, taking the nipple of the nearer one into his mouth...nipping, teasing, licking, sucking, tugging until it stood hard and firm in the early morning light. A soft moan escaped her own lips as his mouth moved to the other breast to repeat the ritual, and his free hand moved with tantalizing slowness down her flat stomach, long blunt fingers reaching, searching...
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The morning sun was high in the prairie sky when Matt Dillon opened his eyes to find Kitty leaning against the headboard, watching him sleep. "You shoulda woke me."
"Not a chance. It's not often I get to watch you sleep in the morning, and I'm sure not going to wake you up to send you off under these circumstances. Matt, I swear I understand and it's all right, but are you sure you have to go?"
He was already pulling on his socks and stepping into his pants. "I'm sure, Kitty. I'm sure."
"Yeah, you wouldn't be Matt Dillon if you didn't have to do it your way."
He grinned slightly. "Is that good or bad?"
"Darned if I know for sure." She buttoned him into a clean shirt, pressing tiny kisses against the warm flesh beneath each button. "But I wouldn't have you any other way."
"Well, I guess I'm ready. Thanks again for the money. I...I don't know what to say, but I really do appreciate it. I just need to stop by the office and pick up my saddlebag and bedroll. You stay here, Kitty; don't come down to the stable to say good-bye."
He widened his stance so that he could look into her deep blue eyes and pulled her against his chest. His voice soft and low, he added, "And no tears, all right?"
Not trusting her voice, she nodded against that magnificent chest, clutching at his shoulders as if they were a life line, which in fact they were, just as he was...her life line.
"It's all right, Kitty. I'll send messages whenever I can, and I'll be back before you even have a chance to miss me."
"Too late for that; I miss you already. Oh, Matt...please be careful."
"I always am, sweetheart. I have an awful lot to come home to."
One long, last searing kiss. "I hate this, Kitty, really I do. I hate leaving you here like this. Are you sure we're all right...sure you understand?"
She nodded again. "We're fine...really. I do understand."
Another last kiss, deeper, more scorching than the one before it, and the one before that. "Then, I guess...I guess this is it. I'll see you later, Kitty."
One last soft kiss and the door closed behind him. As if in a dream, she picked up his old, worn shirt from the bed and buried her face in the coarse folds. She listened to his footsteps on the rickety back steps, then watched from the window as he crossed Front Street and walked into the jail house. He emerged a few minutes later, saddlebag slung over one broad shoulder, bedroll under his arm, and walked down the boardwalk to the stable.
Secure in the knowledge that he was on his way, Kitty walked into the adjacent bathing room and quietly vomited into the china wash basin, spewing out all the hurt, all the anger, all the frustration, all the fear, especially the fear.
Dear God, suppose he didn't come back? She trusted him totally, completely, but suppose... When she thought her trembling legs would hold her no longer, she sank to the cold, hard floor and sobbed.