Last Ride
I own nothing but fond memories of this show.
AN: Just thought I'd offer a tissue alert for the end.
The old man walked stiffly down the street. He neither looked left nor right and only hesitated in his pace a fraction of a second when he passed a lady and paused to tip his hat politely. The lady, as most of the other people he passed, noticed him but only in the way you notice an oddity of some kind. Not because it attracts or interests you, but because it sticks out from the norm. His pronounced limp somehow was overlooked as the viewer took in the whole of him.
70 some odd years and he was still tall ramrod straight and tree tall. The seriousness of his face bespoke of a man who'd lived a life long and hard. And indeed he did. He'd held many jobs in his long life, but for much of it, he was a lawman. And even now, some 20 years after retiring from that position, he still carried himself as such.
Making eye contact with few, he continued on his way until he reached the telegraph office and stepped inside. The last few years he'd shied away from most towns and people. He'd spent most of his time traveling. Seldom did he stay in one place and he liked it that way.
There'd only been one place he'd ever thought of as home and that place had ceased to be home when she was no longer there. He couldn't think of staying for more than a day or two anywhere else.
But there were times when he needed more than what he could hunt for or make due with. He liked coffee and he occasionally liked a glass of whiskey. He occasionally liked a meal on a china plate that didn't have the tang of wildness to it. He liked salt for seasoning and though he wore a leather jacket, he never could stand to wear anything else made of that material so he would on the occasion need a new shirt or jeans.
But none of those were his reasons for coming to a town this day. This day he had much more important and personal reasons for coming to town. After leaving his horse at the stable to be fed and rubbed down, he'd already made a stop at the general store for some needed items and another one at the bank. That done, he only had the one stop left to make.
"Yes, sir." The telegrapher smiled at the rough looking old man in front of him. "Can I help you?"
"I need to send a wire." The man answered as he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper, handing it to the short, balding man in front of him.
The telegrapher took the letter, glancing at the address. "That'll be a dollar, Mister." He said as he looked up at his customer.
"A dollar, huh?" The old man grunted as he reached into another pocket and pulled out the appropriate sum. "I remember when it was a lot less than that."
"I bet ya did." The little man murmured, picking up the money and moving over to his machine. "You gonna wait for an answer?" He asked, unfolding the paper.
"No." The old man told him. "There won't be one." Before the telegrapher could respond, the old man turned and left the office.
Frowning, the telegrapher looked at the name and city on the wire and then shrugged. "Ummm. That's odd."
After leaving the telegraph office, the old man walked back down to the stable, where he'd left his horse. For several long moments, he stood with the animal, patting its neck and rubbing its nose. "Well, ol' son. This is it. We got one more ride then we're done. No matter what, we ain't going nowhere else after this."
The horse turned his head and nickered softly at his master, seemingly understanding what was said. The old man smiled warmly at the steed for a moment, then quietly saddled him, mounted up and rode out.
The ride was no longer or harder than many others he'd taken over the years but it seemed that way to his arthritic joints. Still, he didn't complain even had there been someone to complain to. He'd grown accustomed to the aches and pains of his age and adventurous life. They were merely inconveniences. Besides, he continued to remind himself, this ride was his last.
The town lay sprawled before him when he reached the ridge above it. It'd grown a lot in the years since he'd been gone. Hardly recognizable as the small cow town he remembered. But no matter the size, it was his final destination and he was happy to reach it. "Come on, boy, let's go." He urged his horse forward and down to the town, his home.
mmmmmmmmmm
"Matt? Oh, Matt! Over here!"
Matt turned at the sound of his name and saw Doc standing on the other side of the street, waving at him. With a slight frown, he turned and made his way over to the only physician within a hundred miles. "Doc? What's wrong?"
"Wrong?" It was Doc's turn to frown as he looked at the tall lawman. "Who said anything was wrong? I was just wondering if you wanted to have breakfast with me."
"Breakfast?" Matt folded his arms against his chest with a scowl. "You interrupted me from my important job as US Marshal to ask if I wanted breakfast?"
"Yeah." Doc answered matter of fact.
Matt pursed his lips for a moment and then nodded with a sly smile. "Okay. Let's go. I'm hungry. I assume you're buying since you invited me."
'What else?" Doc shook his head as they started walking.
Breakfast turned out to be a treat. The new cook they'd hired was better than expected and instead of tough leather and stone biscuits, the steak was tender and perfectly cooked and the bread soft, fresh and delicious. And to top off the excellent food, was the fact that no one interrupted Matt as he ate, as was usually the case.
"You know, Doc, I just might have to let you buy me breakfast every morning." Matt grinned as they walked out of the café.
"Oh, really." Doc looked up at him with an arched brow. "Well, what if I don't want to have breakfast with you every morning? You think about that?"
"I did." Matt nodded. "But for your sake, I ignored it."
"Doc! Doc!"
Both men looked up to see Chester rushing down the street towards them.
"Well, there went my morning." Doc sighed with a shake of his head. "What's wrong, Chester?" He questioned when the younger man reached him.
"It's Mrs. Sawyer." Chester panted, out of breath after his rush to find Doc. "It's her time, Doc. Her mister's waiting at your office for ya."
"Oh, well, alright." Doc nodded. "Would you go get my buggy, Chester? I'll go on down to my office, get my bag and reassure Herman Sawyer. Matt, see ya later." Doc didn't wait for a reply as he hurried away towards his office while Chester rushed towards the stable.
Matt watched them go with a slight smirk as he tucked his thumbs in his vest pockets. He was glad it was Doc that was needed and not him. Now, if nothing else happened, he could sit down at his desk and get some work done. Walking on down to the jail, he entered to find a full pot of hot coffee and no one else around. 'Good', he thought to himself. Filling a cup full of coffee, he sat down at his desk and tackled the stack of envelopes waiting on him.
A half hour later, he laid the last of his paperwork aside with a satisfied smile. There had been a lot of envelopes but nothing too important and most importantly, nothing to pull him out of town. He liked that.
Getting up from his desk, he drained the last of the coffee from his pot, stretched and moved around towards the door, grabbing his hat. Time to take a stroll around town.
"Hey, Matt."
Matt looked up to see Quint riding up.
"I was just headed out to go fishing. Want to go?" Quint asked.
"Mighty tempting." Matt shrugged. "But I'm afraid I need to stay around here. There's a full treasure box expected on the afternoon stage."
"Well, we'll be back before that." Quint told him. "I know a spot just outside of town where the fish are biting big time. You could have a mess of catfish for a late lunch if you play your cards right."
"Hmmm. I sure do like that idea." Matt pursed his lips. "Alright, it's a deal." He finally nodded. "I'll get my horse."
A couple of hours later, Matt leaned back on one elbow, looking out over the creek in front of him. "Sure is nice out here." He sighed. "Man could get used to this."
"Why don't you?" Quint asked. "I mean, is there any law says you have to be a lawman? I bet if you were to give it up, Kitty wouldn't complain." He watched his friend's face when he said that, seeing what he expected to.
"She might not at first." Matt answered, uncharacteristically not trying to avoid the question. "But after a few months, she'd get tired of me hanging around all the time. Besides, I don't know how to do anything else. I'd never make it as a farmer or a store clerk or anything."
"How about ranching?" Quint asked. "You know more about horses than most people I know, aside from me."
"Well, I don't know." Matt shrugged as he moved to gain his feet. "Something to consider, I guess." He sighed. "Well, Quint, I'm headed back to town. Since I didn't catch anything, guess I'll have to buy my dinner.
"Betcha Kitty would join ya for dinner." Quint remarked.
"Well." Matt shrugged as he headed to his horse. "I might ask her."
When Matt made it back to town, he saw Festus walking down the street. "Howdy, Matthew." The hill man nodded at Matt as he came to a stop in front of the jail and dismounted. "Where ya been?"
"Ah, I was with Quint for a little while." Matt answered. "Anything going on around here?"
"Nah," Festus shook his head. "Truth is, I was headed down here to ask if'n ya might want to go huntin' or something."
"Well, I would." Matt told him. "But I need to meet the afternoon stage when it gets in. But I am headed over to get something to eat. You want to join me?"
"Well, I'd like to, Matthew, but I jes got through a eatin' over there at Delmonico's not a half hour ago. You might see if'n Miss Kitty might wanta join ya." Festus reached out and took the reins of Matt's horse. "I'll take care a Buck fer ya."
"Uh, yeah, I guess I will." Matt nodded. "Thanks, Festus." He stood for a moment as Festus walked off with his horse before finally heading down to the saloon. He didn't really want to ask Kitty to dinner but he had no real reason not to.
As he walked, he wondered at himself as to why he didn't want to ask Kitty to dinner with him. It had nothing to do with not enjoying her company. He more than enjoyed the time he spent with her. And it had nothing to do with any arguments or tiff's between them. There weren't any. It certainly had nothing to do with his feelings for her. If he admitted to no one else, he had to admit to himself he loved her with all his heart. But something…
"Marshal?" Thad interrupted his thoughts as he approached, calling his name.
"Oh, hello, Thad." Matt nodded at the blonde headed young man. "Something wrong?"
"Oh, no, Sir." Thad shook his head. "It's just, well, I was wondering if you were going to need me today. I thought I'd take a ride but if…"
"You still seeing the Jenkins' girl?" Matt grinned as he watched his sometimes Deputy blush. Thad had taken a fancy to Wilfred Jenkins' youngest daughter and spent as much time with her as he could.
"Well, yes, sir and we… well, I thought I'd take her on a picnic but if…" Thad's blush deepened.
"No," Matt quickly shook his head. "I don't need you. You go on and have a good time."
"Thanks, Matt." Thad grinned as he turned and headed for the stable.
Matt chuckled as he watched the young man hurrying off, wondering if he'd ever blushed like that when it came to a girl. But a second later, he sobered as he realized, he had.
And that girl had been Kitty. He'd known many girls and women before her, but none of them had evoked feelings from him that she had. Most of the time he wanted to run to her and away from her at the same moment. She consumed him in ways he couldn't describe and at the same time she gave him more freedom to be himself than any woman he'd ever known. Shaking his head at the incongruity of it all, he continued on his way to the saloon.
Kitty met him at the end of the bar and happily agreed to dinner as well as supper. Dinner was good and long and with no interruptions and Matt was glad for it. As he sat across from the beautiful woman he loved, he tried hard to think of why he'd not wanted to have dinner with her. But he couldn't come up with any sane reason. Kitty Russell was everything he wanted in a dinner companion as well as a woman, a lover and a companion.
"Penny for your thoughts, Cowboy." Kitty watched him speculatively, obviously aware that he'd zoned out on their conversation.
Matt looked down a little guiltily. "Sorry." He sighed. "Just thinking about how much a dang fool I am sometimes."
Kitty chuckled. "You been talking to Doc, have you?"
Matt chuckled self-consciously. "No, but he'd agree with me." He stopped considering his words before finally looking back up at her questioning gaze. "Kitty, I've been thinking about some things that I want to talk to you about. I think…"
Just then, Newly came running into the restaurant. "Marshal!" He yelled as he raced to the table. "You'd better come. They're tearing up the Long Branch."
Instantly, Matt shot a Kitty an apologetically grim look before grabbing his hat and getting up. "Stay here, Kitty."
But Kitty hesitated only a moment, before grabbing her reticule and getting up to follow him to her saloon.
Matt raced to the saloon, halting only when he reached the doors. Stopping for just a moment, he looked over the doors to see two men inside, throwing chairs, shooting bottles and threatening anyone who came near them. Sam lay slumped on the floor next to the bar, a thin stream of blood running down his face. Matt stepped inside. "Alright, hold it!" He demanded.
Both men froze in their actions, but only for a moment. Too quickly, the one nearest the entry aimed his gun and fired at Matt. Matt easily, swiftly and literally dodged the bullet as he pulled his own and returned fire. In a matter of seconds two men and one woman lay dead around him.
The bullet that Matt had evaded found its mark instead in Kitty, who had come in behind Matt just as the fatal bullet was fired. She was gone before she hit the ground.
The next few weeks were a blur for the soul weary marshal of Dodge City. He wandered around town like a ghost, barely eating or sleeping and often finding himself, late at night, standing by her graveside alone and heartsick. He continued to fulfill his duties but his heart and mind weren't in it any longer. Finally, he knew he had to leave. Dodge was filled with Kitty. He could see her in every nook and cranny and it hurt beyond words to know he'd never be able to hold her again, hear her laugh or see her smile.
And aside from that, he'd grown beyond tired of the pitying looks given to him by the town's people and the whispered words of condemnation behind hands of how he'd let her get killed. Intellectually, he knew he'd not been guilty of her murder. He knew it had been a horrible twist of fate and her own stubborn independence that had put her in that doorway, in the bullet's path. But that knowledge didn't find its way to his heart.
Three months after her death, Matt sent in a resignation, climbed on his horse and left Dodge.
mmmmmmmmmmmm
"Well, what do you think, Doc?" The young lawman of Dodge asked the gray haired physician as they stared down at the old man, lying unconscious on the examining table. "He gonna make it?"
The physician shook his head. "I doubt it. He's in pretty bad shape. Not sure who he is and what he's been through, but it must have been something bad. He's been moaning a lot, calling some cat or something. I think he's dreaming or hallucinating or something but it's hard to tell. He's called out several names like he was talking to them. At least I think they're names. I'm sure he's dreaming or something but about what, I have no idea. You find any identification in his belongings?"
The newly elected, blonde haired Sherriff shook his head. "No. Nothing. I saw a brand on that ol' buckskin he was riding though and remembered seeing it from a ranch around here. I sent someone out there to see if anybody might know him." He sighed and scratched his head. "You know, he looks awfully familiar but for the life of me, I can't remember where I might have seen him."
The doctor shrugged. "Well, you've been here longer than I have so maybe you have seen him. But I can tell you I sure haven't."
"Well, sorta." Sherriff Brady shrugged. "I lived here as a kid and then we moved away. I've only been back in town about 5 years which is only about 2 years longer than you." Brady stopped as a memory tugged at the corner of his mind. There was something… "That's it!" He suddenly exclaimed excitedly. "That's who he is!" He pointed at the dying old man on the table.
"Care to elaborate?" Doctor Murphy arched a brow in question.
"Matt Dillon!" Brady smiled. "He was the Marshal when I lived here as a kid. Damn, he was something. I'll tell ya. He was tall and strong and brave and honest. No body but nobody messed with him or with anybody else who was in the right. You know, he's the reason I wanted to be a law man."
Murphy looked skeptically at him. "Him?"
"Yeah, Him." Brady nodded. "Tell ya what, there wasn't a better law man anywhere anytime than Matt Dillon."
"Hmm." Murphy studied his patient then looked back at the Sherriff. "What happened to him?"
"Well, I don't know about after he left town, but I remember some old timers told me that about two or three months before he left town, his lady friend got killed. Seems some cowboy shot at the Marshal and he moved out of the way of the bullet, not knowing she was right behind him. From what I heard, it bout destroyed him. He stayed on a for a while but his heart just wasn't in it no more so he quit, packed up and left. Don't guess anyone heard anything from him after that."
The physician frowned. "His lady friend?"
"Yeah. That's what most of the older folks in town called her, I mean besides her name." Brady answered. "She owned the same saloon she was shot in. The Long Branch. Everybody called her his friend, but from what I know, she was a lot more than that to him. A whole lot more."
"Yes… she was." The old man's voice was weak and full of woe but warm when he spoke of her. "She… she was my life. I… I loved Ki…tty."
Dr. Murphy reached over and gently placed his hands on Matt's shoulder's. "Now just take it easy there. Don't go trying to make things worse for yourself."
But with a will made of iron, Matt pushed him away and sat up, looking seriously at the two men in front of him before fixing his eyes on the badge the younger man wore. Finally, he raised his eyes to Brady. "You… you married?"
"No." Brady asked warily, not sure what Dillon was getting at.
"You got someone?" Matt persisted.
"I'm seeing someone, yeah." Brady nodded. "Why?"
"Do you love her?" When Brady nodded, Matt continued with urgency in his voice. "Marry her. Don't put it off. Marry her. If I'd married Kitty, and taken her away from here, she'd be alive. I'd have had a family instead of a grave. Marry her, boy. You hear me? Marry her." Matt's voice and strength failed him at last and he collapsed back onto the table.
Quickly, the doctor moved forward to check him but Matt put a hand on his arm to stop him. "When I'm gone, put me beside her. There's money in my pocket for it. I want to be beside her. Promise… me?"
Dr. Murphy nodded sadly. "I will."
Matt smiled then before closing his eyes and breathing his last.
Murphy and Brady stood sad and silent for a moment before Murphy finally reached into Matt's pocket and pulled out an envelope. Handing it to Brady, he then pulled the sheet up over his face.
Brady regarded the envelope with a sort of reverence before finally opening it. Inside, he found a picture of a stalwart young lawman standing tall and proud. Beside him, her arms around him, right hand resting solemnly against his heart, was a breathtakingly beautiful young woman. Looking at her, he could see why Matt Dillon had loved her so much.
Staring at her face for a moment, another distant memory came to him. That of a beautiful red headed woman, older than the one in the picture but still gorgeous. She'd bought him a piece of candy at the general store, not long before his parents and he had moved away. If he concentrated, he could still smell her perfume and he realized this was his first crush. The first female he'd ever admired besides his mother.
Behind the picture was more than enough money to buy a coffin and hire a grave dug. "Say, Doc." He put the envelope and picture into his pocket. "I'll go on over to the undertaker's and get things arranged for Mr. Dillon." He took one more look at the sheet covered idol of his and then hurried out of the office.
But when he got to the undertaker's office, Howard Crump, Percy's son, told him all arrangements had been made already. It seemed he received a wire from the former Marshal just a week prior. All that was needed was the money, which Brady handed to him from the envelope. "I'll take care of everything else." Howard told the Sherriff.
Two days later, Matt Dillon, former US Marshal, idol of many and lover of one, was buried beside the woman he'd loved most of his life. The coffin was simple but the carved headstone was not. To Matt's specification, Kitty's simple, single headstone was removed and a double one was put in its place. The inscription was plain, honest and beautiful.
Matt and Kitty. Together forever.
END