Chapter One
I'm Deputy U.S. Marshal Rush Acton, assigned to Dodge City. Dillon wants me out of town. "Too bad, Matt," I say. "I'll leave when I'm ready, not before. You want me out cuz you ain't hired me; I ain't one of your pets."
"I don't waste time with men like you, Acton," says Matt. "I'm not playing your games." He turns his back to walk out on me. He does that little trick to show how much better he is than me.
"You blamed lawdog," I say to the back of Dillon's head. His dander's up from the look of him. "I have an honorable record with the Service," I say. "I stepped off the train friendly-like, civil to you first greeting. I'm good with my fists, a fast draw, and not too hard on the lawbreakers. You should appreciate that, bein' soft yourself. And I write up a good report, too. But no. You look at me like I'm dung stuck to your boot. You won't even call me by my first name."
"I'll call you Rush," says Matt. "You don't do chores. And other things you get paid for. Things you should think of without me askin' ."
"You're hard on me on account of you ain't chose me," I say. "You have to goad Chester to get him choring, and he thinks of almost nothing on his own. You gotta tell him what to do most every time."
I glance at Chester. He sits on the bed in the marshal's office, looking not the least riled and staring curiously at me. He watches like that whenever I quarrel at Dillon.
"This isn't about Chester," says Matt.
"Well, what of yourself then, you think you're the high and mighty marshal," I say. "You laze around sleeping at your desk, and set on your backside outside there doin' nothin'."
"I'm through bickering with you, Rush," Matt calmly says. "I've got other things to do." He leaves the office.
"What do you think of all this," I say to Chester.
"I don't cotton to chores, neither," says Chester. "Wisht we had a feller what likes tidyin' up." He yawns, stretching his arms. "I gotta sleep some," he mumbles. "I'm wore down."
"Wore down from what?" I say. "You just watched."
"Watchin' tires a body near the same if I was doin' it," he says, and flops down. He falls asleep faster than anyone I know.
I head to the Long Branch for a beer. Most folks I pass won't look at me, as Dillon set the lead for them to follow.
I heard tell of how a judge at the courthouse here acquitted a murderer on account of no witnesses. The man was a speculator who ruined some folks. He refused to leave town before he sold his profits, so Dodge City sent him to Coventry. He eventually gave up on selling the farms he'd cheated people out of and left town. He was found crushed to death under a tree branch.
Although the killer got what was coming to him, Dodge wallowed with him in the dung heap, and a lot of their hides still stink. I'm no murderer like that fellow, yet they shun me like I am a rotting carcass. They say folks went silent when this man stepped into a room, so he couldn't hear the sound of voices.
I'm as good a man as Matt Dillon, and if this blasted town tries sending me to Coventry, I will roar in their faces. They will see me, and talk when I'm in the room, if just to one another. And if Dillon roughs me up like he did that killer, I'll fight and hound him into talking to me. They'll never run me out until I decide to go.
At the batwings now, I feel mad hot like fever yet don't show it. Miss Kitty turns away when she sees me. She has coarse taste if she dislikes my face, as I'm a handsome man, with dark eyes and hair curling and fine brown color, an inch or two taller than most men and built strong. She takes to men even more growed up than me, except for Doc, who by the way looks at me like I've no right to wear a badge. Miss Kitty keeps company with Dillon and Chester, both taller than me, though Chester has a puny thin frame compared to mine.
Miss Kitty and Matt, Chester and Doc are a set, and all save Chester regard me as fodder. While watching his friends cut the new deputy out entertains him, I get the impression he means me no harm. Their un-neighborliness to me seems to puzzle Chester, and he gawks at my plight, too somnolent to care what becomes of me. Otherwise a kindly sort, had he the spirit to defend me, he'd not know how to begin.
I've no desire to court or befriend Kitty, lovely as she is. She chooses which men to oblige on snap judgment, and looks down her nose at the rest of us. Saloons roundabout Kansas know her past, and the gals here say Dillon visits her room regular, so she has nerve playing the lady.
"I'll have a beer, Sam," I say. Sam never greets me or asks "What'll it be." He acts like I'm not there until I speak. If he ever ignores me to the point of refusing to serve me, I'll draw my own beer or pour my own whiskey, and if he tries to stop me, I'll smash some bottles whether Dillon's here or not. I'll throw whiskey in Matt's eyes to slow him down, and smash more bottles.
I drink my beer, and feel I need a woman. I look at the gals to pick one out. Miss Kitty eyes me in shrewd disapproval. I'm too low to merit courtesy, yet she can't mind her business when it comes to me.
I choose a smiling gal called Frannie with a womanly form. I buy her a beer and we talk a short spell, then I hug her close whispering in her ear beneath her thick unruly hair, and she titters as we start for the stairs to the rooms above.
"Frannie," says Miss Kitty. "I need you down here during working hours. We don't have enough girls on the floor today as it is."
"Up yonder's the brothel, right, Miss Kitty?" I loudly say. The men and gals laugh. Frannie wiggles with laughter, her large bosom bouncing against my arm.
"Not today it isn't," says Kitty. "It's closed 'til later tonight."
"Unless Matt wants to take you up there?" I say. The Long Branch fills with noisy laughter.
"I own the place," says Kitty. "I'll go up there with whoever I want, whenever I want to."
"We all know you will, honey," a man hollers. More laughter.
I move near Kitty, my arm around Frannie. "See here, Miss Kitty," I say. "I'll pay for the room while Frannie shows me a good time. Two hours."
"Two hours?" says Kitty.
"I need a nap after," I say. " 'Specially with Frannie." I pat her round bottom and she jumps, squealing.
Kitty grins a little. "Well . . . alright," she says. "I don't charge for room visits. Go ahead and have a good time."
"Why, thank you, Miss Kitty." I smile wide. "That's the first neighborly thing you done for me since I come to Dodge."
"Don't get your hopes up," she says. "It might be the last."
"I'm fond of you, too, ma'am," I say, moving off with Frannie.
When I come down the stairs with Frannie two hours later, Dillon and Kitty are sitting at a table, and watch me descend as though waiting for me.
"Rush, where were you," says Matt.
"Don't bedevil me, Matt," I say. "You know where I was, cuz Miss Kitty told you soon as you come in. It ain't like you to be coy. And don't act like you needed me for anything. Far as you see it, I'm no deputy, just a stranger bunking at the marshal's office."
Dillon rose, looming over me. I was too riled and righteously indignant to be afraid, and I'm a fierce fighter. I might not beat him, but we'd end it even. "I needed you to take the prisoner to the courthouse and guard him while the judge sentenced him," Matt says. "A lawman has to witness the sentencing. Chester looked for you everywhere.
"I wired a general to arrange a meeting before he had to head out of Fort Dodge," says Matt. "He waited and I never showed, Rush. I had to take the prisoner to court because we couldn't find you to do it."
"So after looking through me like you see nothing since I got to town, you finally decide you need me, and expect me to bow and scrape at your heels," I say. "Well, it don't work that way, Matt. And no call looking like you got the power to give me the boot. The Department give me this appointment, and only they can reassign me. Write as many complaint letters as you want; I got a good record and they'll pay no heed," I say.
"I gave you a chance and you mucked it, Rush," Matt says. "See you, Kitty."
Dillon turns his back on me and heads for the batwings. I want to throw a beer mug at his head. "One of these days, you'll turn your back on me once too often, lawdog," I say.
Matt turns. He looks tired. "Alright," he says. "Get out in the street, Rush. I'm not gonna fight you in here."
"I don't wanna fight you, Matt," I say, feeling guilty. "I want your recognition. If you acknowledge my place as Deputy U.S. Marshal, this town will follow suit. Chester don't treat me like a dirt clod."
"That's Chester's way," says Miss Kitty, her stunning blue eyes warming and her face softening as she regarded me. I think of rose petals opening on account of her red hair. "He won't shut you out unless he thinks you've done something to deserve it. Then he won't give you the time of day."
"You have to earn recognition, Rush," Matt says defensively. "I gave you a chance."
"No, you didn't," I say. "You set that thing up with the prisoner to make me look bad."
"Rush, I had no way of knowing you'd be . . . ." Matt pauses, his eyes shifting to Kitty, "visiting . . . at midday."
"Don't see nothin' wrong in it," I say. "You do it."
Dillon shifts his boots and tugs his hat brim, and Miss Kitty tightens her mouth and lowers her gaze like she's trying not to laugh. Then Matt cups his hand protectively over Kitty's shoulder, his eyes warning me.
Matt hasn't invited me to dine with him and Chester, Doc and Miss Kitty at Delmonico's. I have to eat alone at a separate table, even when it's just Matt and Chester at the restaurant. Times Chester looks at me curious as if wondering why Dillon don't ask me to join them, but Chester doesn't tell me to come sit with them, I suppose on account of Matt pays for their meals. Chester won't do hardly one thing he thinks Dillon don't like.
The sleeping arrangements get me het up, too. Though unlike Chester I can afford a boarding room, I like to salt my dollars away, so I sleep in the jail if a cell is empty. If not, I bed down in my roll on the marshal's office floor. The office bed should go to me as Chester has no ranking, and I tell Dillon so.
"Get a room at Ma Smalley's, Acton, you don't like sleepin' on the floor," says Dillon. "That bed was Chester's long before you came." Chester listens close and quietly as he usually does, and when Matt heads out to his room at Ma's for the night, Chester smirks at me on the floor as he cozies under his blanket.
I sit up. "Matt ain't here," I say. "Look at me that way again and I'll smack you one."
Chester throws back his blanket and sits up scowling. "I ain't looked at you no kinda way," he says. "You commence to hittin' on me and I'll pound your head through the floor. I kin fight you Mr. Dillon's here or not. It's jest an almighty surprise he don't take to you."
"Oh, shut up," I say, and lay down.
"You shut up," says Chester.
"Lay down and git to sleep," I order.
"You don't tell me what to do," he says.
"Why're you still settin' up," I say. "I won't smack you. You'd tell Matt, and he'd bust my hide." Chester lays down and covers up.
"It's not the same with you, anyway, Chester," I say. "You and me's just two fellas quarreling back and forth. You don't act like I'm a night crawler."
"Mr. Dillon don't , neither," Chester sleepily mumbles. "He jest don't take to you. He has his own reasons for takin' to folks or no."
"I don't know how to make him accept me," I say. "Folks hate me on account of him. Don't say you haven't noticed."
Chester yawns. "He likes to do his own hirin'. He don't trust strangers to work for 'im, usual."
"I'm not a stranger anymore," I say. "Why can't he get over that."
"It's ways. To break through," Chester muttered. "Feller like you, you don't try to please. Some shock . . . maybe. Like a gunfight you win. Or fightin' long side 'im."
"I shouldn't have to do none of that for Matt to accept me," I argue.
"He don't mean no harm," says Chester. "You jest come at him hard from the first . . . like as you're your own boss. You don''t try to please none at all. I got to sleep now." He snores.
I invite myself to breakfast with Matt, Chester and Doc. "Mind if I come?" I say.
Doc frowns like I'm a chair in the marshal's office asking him, then shakes his head, tweaking his ear. "I don't mind if Matt don't," he says.
"I don't mind," says Matt.
"Chester?" I say.
"Huh?" says Chester.
"Never mind, let's just go," Doc says. "I'm hungry."
"Why're shaking your head, Doc?" I say, as Matt opens the door.
"My ear has an itch," says Doc.
"Sure it does," I say. "You're shaking your head at me."
Doc glares up at me. "Why in thunder would I shake my head at you," he says, as we walk to Delmonico's.
"If you don't wanna eat with me, why not just say so," I say.
"What's wrong with you," Doc says. "I just said I didn't mind, but I'll change my mind if you don't quit bein' contentious."
"You sure temper easy," I say. "I bet you'd like to spit on my boots."
"Well, I'm thinkin' about it," Doc snaps.
"Leave Doc be," says Chester. "You'll sour his belly off breakfast."
"It ain't your argument, Chester," I say. I know none of them want to eat with me now, but my tongue runs on of itself.
Dillon turns on his heel. "You better find somewhere else to eat, Rush," he says.
"I will not," I say. "I have as much right to eat at Delmonico's as any of you. I'll sit at a table alone like I always do. Even though the waiters won't hardly look me in the eye." I pick up my pace and walk ahead of them.
When two train robbers make off with ten bags of bills and coins at the Dodge station, I recollect what Chester said about fighting alongside Dillon to earn his acceptance. I'm getting my bedroll and saddlebags ready to track the thieves down with Matt, when I see Chester collecting his gear. "Who'll man the marshal's office if the three of us go?" I ask Matt.
"You will," Dillon says. "Chester's goin' with me."
"Matt . . . ." I whine. I close my mouth tight and look down at my boots in embarrassment, thinking on toughening my voice. I raise my eyes to Dillon's. He looks impatient. I glance at Chester watching me and can tell he has one thing on his mind, following Dillon's orders. Chester's eyes can change from placid to keen in a blink, and as I look at him a lunatic thought runs through my head. If Dillon tells his partner to raise that shotgun he's holding and shoot me through the belly, I wonder if he'd do it.
"Chester don't pack iron," I say. "I can draw and shoot a man before he can pull out that shotgun, and he's no good with his fists. I think faster than he does, too. Move faster."
Chester seems not to take offense. Were he a trained wildcat, he'd pounce on me if Dillon said the word.
"I'm not bickerin' with you, Rush," says Matt. "There's no time."
I calculate what else Chester told me about gaining Dillon's approval. "Some shock," Chester had said. "Like a gunfight you win." I don't like gunplay despite my skill. What I can do now is fight Dillon, and I'm riled enough to do it. Maybe that'll shock 'im.
As he starts to buckle his gunbelt, I snatch it from him and throw it on the floor. Chester startles. Dillon looks at me a moment, then bends down to pick up his belt. I kick it out of reach. Matt hits me, and the room rocks. I stumble around, then punch him a quick left in the gut, and a right to his face.
The blows would floor most men, but he barely reels. Chester backs up near the wall by the desk. Dillon swings at me and I dunk, then pound two more quick ones into his gut. I move in close, raising my arm up and back to hit him with all my strength, and his big fist rams into my jaw.
Pain stabs my neck as my head twists with the blow, my legs go weak and I fall on my side. Dillon leans over me and yanks me up by my vest. Chester hurries over and pulls out a chair from the table, and Matt slams me into it.
He grabs his gunbelt off the floor and buckles it on with jerky, mad motions, while Chester brings a dipper of water and sets it in front of me. "Don't trail us out of town," warns Matt, a little breathless. "You do and I find out, I'll hammer your face in."
I try to take hold of the dipper handle, but my hand shakes and I can't get a purchase. Chester puts the cup to my mouth, holding it until I slurp the last drops. "You need whiskey?" he says. "We got some." His eyes have turned open and mild again.
I pat his arm with an unsteady hand. "You're the only one in this town who'll do me a charitable turn, Chester," I say. "Miss Kitty warmed to me a little when I mentioned you."
Chester fetches the whiskey and a cup while the marshal waits with stoical patience. "Well, Miss Kitty, she's obliging," says Chester, pouring the whiskey.
I take a big swallow. "Matt, I only fought you cuz Chester told me to," I say. "He said I should shock you to earn your acceptance."
"Why, I did not, any sech thing," says Chester. "Mr. Dillon, he—"
"Never mind, Chester," the marshal says, opening the door. "Get some rest, Rush. Have your head on straight when we get back."
Chester closes the door behind them, and I watch through the window as Matt and his partner unhitch their horses. Chester's voice drifts faintly through the door. "He done storied you, Mr. Dillon," he says. I can't hear Matt's answer.
I lie down and link my fingers behind my head. The mattress ticking, stuffed with crackly straw and husks, is more comfortable than the floorboards with only my bedroll for padding. I'm done being tolerable with this town. They will quit looking through me, and turning from me like I'm a shameful sight. I'm good-looking and well groomed, not a rough sort, and I wear fine suits and silk shirts and vests and ties. Since Dillon dresses like a cowpuncher, he oughta help Chester with the chores, not me. And the townsfolk will pass the time of day with me, if I have to jolt them into talking.
Returning to the marshal's office from the Long Branch late that night, I see Matt and Chester ride in, and wonder why they didn't stable their horses at Grimmick's. Then I see Chester holding Buck's reins. Matt sways in the saddle, nearly resting on Buck's neck.
"Is Matt shot?" I say.
"He got hit through the side," says Chester. "And a bullet in the shoulder. We need help gettin' 'im up to Doc's."
"The robbers?" I say, walking beside Chester's horse.
"They're dead," says Chester. "Mr. Dillon shot one and me t'other. We got the bank money back in our saddlebags." He sounds sad and weary.
So I am in charge of Dodge, and Chester follows my lead and my orders, as Doc says Matt will be laid up at Doc's place a spell. Miss Kitty spends every day into the night nursing the marshal.
Chester bunks in the jail now. I would've let him keep sleeping in the office bed, but he moves on his own. I ask him to fix us breakfast, and he fries eggs and spuds in fatback. The eggs and spuds are crispy, the fatback burnt, and all of it greasy. He makes good coffee, though.
We're drinking a second cup to cut the grease when Moss Grimmick walks in. "Moss," says Chester.
"Chester. Rush," says Moss.
"What can I do you for?" I say.
"I don't know if anything," says Moss. "Didn't know what to do, so I come here. Fella's got a nice mustang down to the livery; won't pay for his keep. Man by the name of Jess Hammond. Every time I tell 'im to pay up, he says he will when he comes into some money. Says he's a gambler. It's been a fortnight since he rode into town, and he ain't paid one dime."
"You know whereabouts he does his playin'?" I say.
"All the saloons, from what I heard," says Moss. "Long Branch, usually. Be hard to give you a likeness, Rush. Hammond looks like most men. He starts his gambling early in the day; I know that. Like a real job."
"How much he owe ya?" I say.
"Three dollars, fifty cent," says Grimmick.
"You wanna come find 'im with me and Chester, Moss, I'll lighten his pockets and put the money in your hand direct," I say. Moss gives me a forceful nod, and we head to the Long Branch.
"That's him," says Moss, pointing, when we push through the batwings.
Wearing a brown skirt and white cotton blouse, suited I suppose for tending the marshal, Miss Kitty gives instructions to Sam at the bar. The clothing differs from her customary fine weaves, color and lace, yet I notice a purposeful vigor in her bearing that enlivens her face and enhances her beauty, whereas before she seemed at times a mite sulky.
I move to the table where Jess Hammond sits with two men at cards. I'm not a careful strider like Dillon, nor a swaggerer. I take my time walking, easy like. Moss stays by Chester, who stops a few paces behind me.
I step close to Hammond's chair, and wait until the men look up at me. Moss is right about Hammond's looks. I've seen his form and features so much in other men, his face escapes description.
His mouth twists in disdain when he sees me. I've seen that look too much in this town, and my hand itches to smack him a good one. Though I tend like the marshal to go a touch easy on the lawbreakers, these townsfolk are crawling up under my skin like pinworms. My dander rises hot, my heart thumping, and I feel the faint trembling that strengthens rather than weakens. I could punch Hammond's head clean off and enjoy it.
"You got nothin' else to do 'cept show off that badge," says Hammond, "Why don't you set and play a hand 'stead of standin' there like a dub."
"Moss," I say. Grimmick moves next to me.
"You owe Moss here three dollars and fifty cents livery board for your mustang, Jess," I say. My voice goes low and quiet when I'm mad. "Pay up. Now."
"I told him I was busted," Jess says. "I'll give 'im the money soon as I win it, so move your worthless hide outa my face."
"He ain't broke," says one of the players. "He just won twelve dollar offen me."
"Hand it over, Jess," I order.
"You got no authority far as I see it," Hammond sneers. "Marshal Dillon is gunshot bedrid at Doc's. You gotta lot a guts, standin' there playin' lawman in your fine getup."
"Chester," I say, and gesture at the bar.
"Come on, Moss," Chester says. Miss Kitty and Sam have gone quiet watching us, and Chester and Moss join them at the bar.
The other two men ease out of their chairs and back away. Jess tenses but keeps his seat. I know if I put all my anger behind the punch, I'll shatter his jaw and break his neck. I hold most of it in, and hit hard enough to stun him while I get Grimmick's money.
Hammond falls over backward in his chair, and I swiftly search his pockets, my fingers closing around a roll. I peel off four one-dollar bills and stuff the roll back in his pocket.
"You paid up today and tomorrow, too, Jess," I say. I grab his arms and jerk him upright. "You boys pick up his chair?" I say. One of the players quickly pick up the chair and set it behind Hammond's legs, and I push him down hard on the seat.
"From now on you pay Moss once a week, all you owe and don't be late," I say. "You miss another payment, he'll tell me, I'll look you up and hit you again." Jess nods, rubbing his jaw as he warily regards me.
"Rush," Miss Kitty calls. I move to the bar. "That deserves a drink on the house," she says. "Beer?"
"Thank you, Miss Kitty," I say. Her expressive eyes admire me, and I imagine she's sizing me up from a new angle. I'm liking her now as a woman. Dillon likes her too, and I relish the thrill of risking his displeasure.
"Here's your money, Moss," I say, handing him the bills. "Let me know if Jess holds out on you again. I'll see to it."
"Thanks," says Moss. "I will." He studies me a moment as though seeing me for the first time, then shakes my hand and leaves.
Chester and I walk with Miss Kitty to Doc's. "Don't you trouble Mr. Dillon none, Rush," says Chester as we climb the stairs. "Him on the mend and all. He's been through a lot."
Chester says the same thing whenever we visit Matt. Same words even.
"You always say that, Chester," I say. "I never once troubled Matt since he got shot."
Looking well despite two bullet wounds, Matt sat in bed. "I know Jess Hammond," he says, grinning a little and leaning back against the pillows when Chester told him what happened with Moss. "Jess is blustery, but he's easy to cow."
"Meaning," I say, "You come up here braggin' about nothin' at all, Rush."
"I didn't hear you braggin," says Matt.
"If Rush Acton does the job, it's all still fool's work to you," I say to Dillon.
"Nobody's makin' you wear that badge at gunpoint, Acton," says Matt.
"Matt, I was assigned to this post. I can't just ride out of Dodge any more than you could. Not if I want to keep my job."
"You could put in for a transfer," says Dillon.
I heave a sigh. "Alright," I say. "You refuse to accept me here, you will take me dead serious, if I have to rip this town apart to make you do it." The look I saw as somewhat mocking faded from Dillon's face. "You see," I say. "Already you quit jeering at me."
"Matt's not jeering at you," says Doc. "Now, don't you start makin' trouble and get him all het up, you understand?"
"I told 'im don't trouble Mr. Dillon on the way upstairs, Doc," says Chester, scowling at me. "He don't pay no heed."
"Shut up, Chester," I say.
"Well, you're jest the rudest Deputy U.S. Marshal I ever met," says Chester. "You're a disgrace to the badge."
"And you're an idiot," I say.
"Oh, leave Chester alone," says Miss Kitty. "He didn't do anything to you." I throw my arms around her, kiss her hard and let her go before she can push me off.
"Miss Kitty and I've been busy while you're layin' here, Marshal," I say, smiling at Matt.
"Don't pay him any mind, Matt," says Kitty. "You know I'm up here with you every minute I get."
"That's alright, Kitty," says Matt.
"Acton, if I could get out of this bed without passin' out, I'd chop you one for putting your hands on Kitty that way. You stay in this room one more second, I might try it anyway," the marshal threatened.
"Alright, easy," I say. "I'm leavin'."
I scarce reach the marshal's office when a child whose mother boards at Ma Smalley's shows with a note for me from Ma. "Ma said please come straightaway," says little Eddie.
"You wait here while I read Ma's note," I say. Eddie jumps on the hitching rail and commences acrobatics like he's in the circus.
"Get down or you'll bust your head," I say, reading Ma's book-learned cursive. Eddie cares nothing for me, and keeps twirling round the rail. Not even the younguns in this town respect me.
I pick him up off the rail and set him on his feet. "You run tell Ma I'll be by in a spell," I say. "Tell her I need to see Miss Kitty and Miss Jade Hunt at the Long Branch first. Can you remember that?" Eddie nods and frowns up at me, his big round eyes sparking in the sun.
"Go on then," I say. "Off with you."
"You got any money?" he demands.
I laugh, pull a nickel from my pocket, and hand it to him. "Smart boy," I say. "You don't let no man order you 'less you get paid." He snatches the nickel from my fingers and runs off to give Ma my message.
Saloon gal Jade Hunt is named after the gemstone, for her bewitching green eyes. She has a soft womanly form and sultry face which make men want her. Arriving before noon, I find the Long Branch empty except for Miss Kitty standing at the end of the bar, Sam, and Jade leaning on the bar talking to him.
I move to Miss Kitty and tip my hat. "Miss Kitty," I say. "I'd expect you'd still be at Doc's. Tired of tending Matt, are you?"
"I have to show my face here once in a while," Kitty says. "Matt understands." She's shed her plain nursing garments, and wears a blue silk blouse and matching skirt.
"I need to talk to you and Jade," I say. "Can I buy you two a drink?"
"Drinks are on the house if it's a law matter," says Miss Kitty.
"Well, at least you acknowledge I'm a lawman," I say.
She shrugs. "You're wearin' a badge.
"Jade. Come talk to Rush.
"Can we get three beers, Sam?" Kitty says.
Jade turns, leans back on the bar and fixes her green eyes on me, then steps slowly toward me, swaying her hips. She moves closer until her bosom almost touches my chest.
"Jade," I say, touching my hat brim. "Ma Smalley sent me a note about you and Rufus Mangrove. "Fella what owns the Back Street Saloon. He was your beau, right?"
"Way I see it, Rufus is still mine." She has a low satiny voice.
"Ma says Mangrove broke it off with you and you're hounding him," I say. "She wants either you or Rufus to move out of her place, or both of you. She wants me to ask you to move."
Jade feigns a pout. "Do I have to?"
"I've no right to force you," I say. "You houndin' Mangrove from love, are you?"
"I don't know anything about love, honey," she says. "I'm real sweet on him, though. I want him."
"I can't imagine why," I say. I've seen Mangrove around town. He looks like a wolf."
"Some men just creep up inside you and you can't pull 'em out," Jade says. She and Miss Kitty look at each other and laugh.
"He's a dog for markin' you," I say. "He cast his spell on your heart so you can't shake 'im loose."
"That's it exact," says Jade, breathy with excitement, her face shiny aglow. She looks a bit mad, her eyes wide and hot. I glance at the part of her bosom rising and falling with her breathing and showing above the low-cut costume.
"You want I should throw Rufe-rufe Doggrove out of Ma's place so you can keep your room there, honey?" I say.
"Sounds like a good idea, Jade," says Miss Kitty. "It'll serve Mangrove right. He captured your heart so he could break it. I know the breed." Kitty takes a big swallow of beer and gulps it down without a cough or shoulder hitch. I watch her admiringly. She's some woman.
"Would you do that for me, Rush?" says Jade. "I like my little room at Ma's. Her place is clean and pleasing, and she's a good cook. And I like Ma. She'd never want you to ask me to leave, only Rufus charmed her into mama feelings for him."
"Wanna come so you can watch me kick him out?" I say. "You can slap his face some if you get the hankerin'. I won't let 'im hit you."
"Let me run upstairs and change out of my outfit?" says Jade.
Ma Smalley is fixing rabbit fricassee for lunch when we walk through the parlor and dining room into the kitchen. "Hello, Ma," I say, taking off my hat.
"Deputy Rush," says Ma. "My, you were a time getting here. You'll have lunch before you pack your things, Jade?"
"Oh, please don't make me leave, Ma," says Jade. "Rush says he'll kick Rufus out."
Ma frowns. "Why would you do that, Deputy," she says. "Jade's the one hounding Rufus, not the other way."
"He made Jade latch onto him and she can't let go," I say. "You'll let her keep boarding here if he leaves, won't you, Ma?"
"Well, I . . . ." Looking worried and disapproving, Ma rubs her hands on a towel.
"Oh, thank you," says Jade, hugging Ma. "You are sweet."
"Rufus in?" I say.
"He's in his room," says Ma. "Rufus said he's not going to the saloon today. He wants to make sure Jade leaves."
"Well, he's in for a surprise," I say.
"Come on, honey," I say to Jade.
"Come in," Rufus calls in answer to my knock. He jumps up when he sees Jade. "She leavin'?" he says.
"Nope. You are," I say. "I cleared it with Ma."
"That ain't fair," says Rufus. "I did nothing to her. She won't leave me alone!"
"Calm down, darling," says Jade. "We can still see each other."
"I don't wanna see you. Not anymore. How many durn ways can I tell you!" says Rufus.
"You don't want to see Jade anymore, get out of town," I say.
"You cold-blood dirty ass," Rufus says to me. "All you're thinkin' about is takin' her."
"You can eat lunch if you want," I calmly answer. "Then get out."
"Forget the blasted lunch," he says. He opens a dresser drawer and starts pulling out his clothes. "I'll bunk in my saloon," says Rufus. "Git on outa here so I can pack." He slams and locks the door behind us.
"Show me your room, Jade," I order.
"Do we dare?" she whispers. "All this'll be for nothing if Ma finds out, 'cause she'll throw me out sure. She'll wonder what we're doing back here after Rufus leaves."
I wrap my arms around her and kiss her. "We'll do it fast," I say.
"That was wrong, Rush," says Matt, when I visit him at Doc's and tell him about Rufus and Jade. "Ma explained the situation to me before the shooting laid me up. You should've made Jade move like Ma asked you to at first, and let Mangrove stay."
"Sure don't sound fair to me," says Doc.
"You would take Mangrove's side, Matt," I say. "It's a little like you and Miss Kitty, isn't it. Only you haven't broken it off with her, and she's not hounding you. I guess I can calculate why."
"Leave Kitty out of this," says Matt.
"She agreed with me throwin' Rufus out, and she and Jade laughed about it," I say. Matt looked at me a moment, then turned his gaze straight ahead without answering.
"Rush, you start troublin' Matt, you're gonna have to leave," says Doc.
"That's alright, Doc," says the marshal. "When I'm up and about in a few days, Rush won't be doin' anything but chorin'."
"I ain't doin no blasted chorin'," I say. "That's Chester's job."
"That's enough," Doc says. "You go on out of here now and let Matt rest."