Epiphany
A Sequel to "The Letter"
Part One
May 25, 1889
Matt Dillon sat easily, expertly in the saddle. He tugged on the reins and pointed his mount southwest, out of Kansas and toward that distant Arizona valley where his life had changed forever.
The trail at this point was still familiar and Buck knew the way, allowing his rider's troubled mind to turn elsewhere.
Kitty. The woman he loved with all his heart. His woman. The only woman he had so much as touched in the last 22 years. Except once. He pressed his lips tight as he saw her standing there in the early morning light, auburn curls tumbling across her shoulders, eyes dry, but brimming with pain and fear...and love, always the love...as she clung to his words of promise, " 'Course I'm coming back to Dodge, coming back to you."
Mike. The woman who had saved his life. The mother of his child. Had it been gratitude? Had it been love? Had it been merely the need to connect with another human being? It didn't matter that he hadn't been himself at the time. What mattered was that one lonely, sleepless night he had gone to her, seeking comfort and solace in the warmth of her body.
Beth. The child who was the innocent fruit of that night. His daughter. No matter what it cost him, he had to see his child, had to do what was right by her.
Whatever "right" meant.
He groaned aloud. No matter how inadvertent that moment had been, the fact remained that he had wronged and hurt two women--three if he included the child still too young to be aware of her father's indiscretion.
Too tired, too weary, too heartsick to go any farther, the big lawman climbed from the saddle and spread his bedroll on the ground. He slept fitfully, yearning for Kitty's soft bed rather than the unforgiving earth under his scarred and battered body. He wanted Kitty's warm body draped across his own instead of the scratchy woolen blanket. He wanted the comfort of a down pillow beneath his tired and aching head, not the hard leather saddle. Like a petulant child, he wanted what he couldn't have...at least not right now. He wanted Kitty.
You could lose her this time, Dillon, and you have no one to blame but yourself.
August 5, 1889
Kitty Russell smiled in her sleep as snippets of dream fluttered through her subconscious. A large hand stroked the tangled red hair from her face, and warm lips lightly brushed the tops of her full breasts where they peeked from beneath the sheet. Suddenly realizing that her dream was very real, she turned onto her side and reached her arms out to the man who lived deep within her heart, the man she hadn't been positive she ever would see again. As her mouth sought his in the dark, she lifted her eyes to the heavens and sent up a fervent "Thank you, God."
"Don't wake up yet, honey. I just stopped by to tell you I'm back. Buck's downstairs, and I need to take him on down to the stable. I'll be back directly...that is, if it's okay."
" 'Course it's okay. I've been waitin' for you forever."
As Matt unsaddled the big buckskin and settled him for the night, his mind couldn't help but reflect on that other return, the one three years ago when he was so consumed with guilt that he couldn't bring himself to touch her, to make love to her until he had confessed the entire story of what had happened in that Arizona valley.
This time he had no sordid confession to make, but how could he possibly tell Kitty the truth? How could he break her heart yet again by telling her that he had hopelessly and completely lost his own heart to someone whose curly dark head barely reached to his boot tops?
Wearily, he climbed the rickety back stairs and again let himself into Kitty's rooms. Moving silently in case she had gone back to sleep, he left his hat and gunbelt on the table by the door and began shucking vest and shirt as he moved into the dark bedroom. He sank gingerly onto the edge of the bed to remove his boots and socks and she rolled against him, one arm sliding around his waist as she pressed her face against his broad back.
"You all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, just tired."
He stood to strip off his trousers and underwear and then sank back down into the comforting softness of the big brass bed...and Kitty's arms.
"Are you gonna tell me about your trip?"
"In the morning. Right now I need to hold you and get some sleep," he mumbled as he burrowed his face into the soft hollow of her neck.
Kitty smiled to herself in the dark. Apparently even legendary lawmen needed comfort and rest sometimes. "Sweet dreams, Cowboy," she whispered into his shaggy curls.